 
Tâ Oandimn

Prophecy of the Amber Eye: Book Two

By N.T. Bergeron

Copyright 2016 NT Bergeron

Published at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1

The pain searing through Ehcim's legs had long since passed his tolerance limit and couldn't take the exertion anymore. With a final lurch he came to rest, succumbing to their protestations. Bent over, hands on knees, his gasping breaths were the only noise to be heard as silence descended on him like someone throwing a blanket over the scene. A quiet so pervasive it was like a dome had been placed over him, cutting him off from the world as if he were some sort of admired collectors piece. Even so, Ehcim looked behind him for signs of pursuit. All he could see was his own path, cleaved through the knee-deep white with all the care of a wild animal. Each footfall was an outward explosion of snow, like some panicked beast had rampaged through. If anyone was following him, he should be able to see them without difficulty but he squinted anyway, craning his neck, as his eyes swept the panoramic with piercing scrutiny. He had to. He had been bidden to ensure he return with his prize or... The 'or' had never been filled in but that didn't stop his imagination from filling in the blanks. Ehcim's master was powerful and the punishment for failure would be severe. Within his boots, Ehcim's feet burned. A strange juxtaposition from the icy cold they were currently plunged in. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to assuage the feeling, but that just made his feet throb on top of the burning. A sharp pinch in the ribs reminded him of his fall.

He had been high up in the tree, precariously perched, holding on for dear life to the branch like a constrictor squeezing its prey. Ehcim was retrieving the exact section of branch he had been commanded to procure. Why this exact part of the tree was different from any other, Ehcim didn't know. He only knew he had to have that section and he willed himself to scale the heights of the tree, inching his way out onto the spindly branch. He sawed with the care of a surgeon through the soft wood, each stroke making delicate dust of the branch as it worked its way through. The sawdust dropped in small waves into the air below, most drifting off on the wind with a few particles landing on the branch below, accumulating in a tiny pile. A sad reminder of what he was doing that watched him as he worked. He was nearing the completion of his cut when it happened. Ehcim had been so engrossed in his work the grip he had on his perch had relaxed little by little. He was so elated as his blade severed the few remaining tendons of bark he let go altogether to grab the piece he was after lest it fall into the snow below. As he grasped it, he slipped from his branch, his eyes shooting wide with shock as the realization of what was happening ploughed into his brain with the bedside manner of a freight train. Flailing like a baby bird that had been pushed from its nest, Ehcim reached for anything he could grab, his saw twirling in the air for a fraction of a second before disappearing into the tangle of branches below. He maintained enough awareness to not drop the branch he had been after but that only left him with one free hand as he landed back first on the bough beneath him. He bounced off it like a ball, flipping sideways before crashing through three more tiers of wooden pain. The branches scrabbled at him as he burst through them as if they were alive and seeking retribution for the piece of the tree he had removed. The cracking of the branches like screams in his ears. Ehcim was certain he was taking the express route all the way to the bottom and was as shocked as anyone when his hand found a home around a slender but strong and wiry branch. His hand slid along its length, the bark acting like a calliper to the brake shoe of his hand, burning with each agonizing inch before he came to a complete stop. He swayed for a time, back and forth like some sort of live Christmas tree ornament, straining his ears as he listed for the guards he had thus far been able to elude. His heart was pounding in his years, deafening him to any other sound and he gulped as he tried to calm himself. The adrenaline faded, allowing him to tune into his surroundings. There was no noise or commotion that would indicate the Lefirte's guards had been alerted to his unplanned descent. Ehcim let a slow breath out as he took stock of his situation. He hadn't dropped the branch he was after but he had lost his saw. He was about ten feet from the surface of the snow at the moment and blood was oozing from between the fingers of the hand that had stopped him. He bobbed on the branch as he looked around, struggling to accomplish something. He tried to swing his legs up but the branch only bobbed more, threatening to free itself from his grip. Ehcim tried to get his other hand onto the same branch but he couldn't fit his hand around the prize he had come for and his lifeline at the same time. He thought for a brief moment of dropping the retrieved part of the tree but was worried he would not be able to find it again under all the snow. Dropping it was not an option, which only left one more course of action. Ehcim closed his eyes as the realization of what he needed to do set in. He surveyed directly beneath himself. There was one last layer of branches to make it through before the ground level. The branch directly beneath him was particularly thick and menacing. Ehcim was pretty sure the branch knew what he was thinking and was summoning all the strength it could muster to be as painful as possible. If Ehcim could get some swinging action going he might be able to clear it altogether which, sadly, would increase the force he landed with. If there was one redeeming factor, he was landing in snow so that should take the sting out of the fall. Ehcim sighed and started working to get his body swinging. Starting with his feet, he swung them out in front of him and then back behind him. On the forward swing, he put his hips into it, pumping his legs as hard as he could before he swung them back. On the next forward kick, Ehcim was going to let go and he steeled his nerves. His legs swung back far behind him and Ehcim closed his eyes, whipping them forward as hard as he could, putting every ounce of energy he could into trying to make sure he launched himself as far clear of the tree as possible. About a quarter way through the return trajectory, the blood soaking Ehcim's hand came back to haunt him and his hand slipped altogether, throwing his momentum off. His eyes flew open as he realized what was happening but there was nothing he could do but hope for the best. Ehcim's feet continued moving forward even as the rest of his body sort of hung motionless as he watched the branch snap away from his hand like an arrow that had been released. Time seemed to stand still as Ehcim fell backwards once more. In a last-ditch effort, Ehcim tried to spin around, thinking he could get his arms in front of him to take the brunt of the impending impact. It was useless, only his head making it around in time for the crunch of his ribs to have a visual added to it. Ehcim spun on the branch like a rope winding itself around before the branch finally flung him unceremoniously to the ground, glad to be done with him. Ehcim landed face first with a solid flump, light, powdery snow shooting out from the impact site like someone had sneezed. Ehcim shot to his knees, trying to get his breath, the shock of his cold landing taking it away. He sucked in a breath. And then another. His panic fading, Ehcim was able to reach up and wipe the snow out of his eyes with the back of his bloody hand. He could feel the hard branch he had come for still clutched in his other hand and was relieved. At least one thing was going right. He sat back on his heels and looked up at the tree. It was dark and dour, his passage through its boughs marked only by the absence of snow, wiped from the tree where he had passed. He could feel a cold chill emanating from it. Yes, it was cold outside but the tree was adding a chill of its own to the immediate surroundings. It was if it had been wounded and was shunning Ehcim, its trust betrayed, as it tried to regroup. I'm sorry Ehcim thought as he looked solemnly up and down the tree. He knew the Lefirte and hadn't wanted to harm it but he was bound to the service of his master and had to do his bidding. He would pay for his sin against the Lefirte with karma. If he let his master down, he would pay with his life.

Ehcim removed his glove and slid his good hand under his shirt, wincing as his cold fingers touched the skin of his stomach, but he kept going until it found the lumpy source of the pain. A rib, possibly broken, was bulging below the skin, perhaps a hand width below his armpit. He tensed but moaned softly as he rested his icy appendage on his throbbing ribs. A little relief washed over him and Ehcim slumped and exhaled, savouring the coolness on his aching ribs.

"Don't move." A voice hissed as the hard edge of a blade slid along his neck like the cold hand of death itself.

Chapter 2

The world came to a stop. Not a grinding or gradual halt but more as if someone hit pause and everything Tagan had come to know changed forever in a flash. Poof. As if a magician waived his wand casting a spell of disappearance and a brother he had barely gotten to know was lost to him. Erased from existence. It took a second or two for Tagan to even register they were gone. His eyes were still processing the residue of Braulor and Kyriu's struggling forms fighting over the staff, wrenching it back and forth, neither of them giving quarter. Then the black cloud that was the Shadowkeeper descended on them, enveloping them in gleeful darkness, like a snake forcing prey into its greedy maw. In much the same way, their fighting visage faded in his mind, like a lonely cloud that happened along in front of the blazing sun and was obliterated. All that met Tagan's eyes now was an empty space which had once housed Braulor and Kyriu. In the fraction of a second it took to blink, they were gone. Tagan dropped the shield he was holding and raced to the spot where Braulor was last, falling to his knees as he arrived. He scattered about frantically in the loose dirt, leaves and a twig, hoping it was some magic trick. That there was a hidden door they had fallen through where he would find Braulor below and be able to come to his aid. But there was nothing. His fingers only found dirt. Tagan was calling out, screaming Braulor's name in a vain attempt to reach him but there was nobody to reach. Braulor was really gone.

Tagan stopped his search and slumped down, sitting on the heels of feet, arms hanging at his sides as if he had lost control of them. He didn't know if he could deal with the feeling of loss welling up inside him. A sickening feeling was building in his stomach, making it lurch, and he wondered if he was going to throw up. His head was spinning and there was a pain in his heart, making it feel as if it had been pierced by an arrow. It hadn't but he wondered if this was what it would feel like. He would rather have the arrow piercing his heart he realized. At least a physical wound was something he could deal with. Something tangible that made sense to his brain and he could reconcile in this world, even if it meant his death. Hot tears streamed freely down his face, through the mud and dirt and grime, leaving tiny streaks of clean, pink skin in their wake. What am I supposed to do now? It was Braulor who had gotten them this far. It was Braulor who fought the guards at the Citadel before their escape into the waterfall. It was Braulor who saved Tagan from drowning in the Jaswulder River. It was Braulor who led him through the mountains to elude the pursuing citadel guards. It was Braulor who got them through the mountain tunnels from Vjeinka Rise and led them here. How could Braulor leave him now? They had found Rean Le and the quest poised to go to the next level. And now? Tagan had no idea where to go from here. How could Braulor leave him to find his own way now when Braulor was responsible for everything to this point?

Tagan reflected on this turn of fate and felt selfish, bemoaning his childish attitude. His brother was gone. Gone to who knows where or maybe not anywhere at all. Just gone. And here he was worrying about what he was going to do like some toddler that lost his mommy and daddy. Braulor would be ashamed if he could see him now.

A slender, gentle hand grasped his shoulder and squeezed. A reassuring touch filled with sympathy for him. Tagan didn't have to look to realize the hand belonged to Rean Le and his flagging heart buoyed the tiniest amount. A ray of hope shone through the dark that was threatening to consume him as he remembered why they had come here in the first place. It was the quest. The quest to find the Amber Eye as Meyu Kwi had instructed. Find it and return it to the Lefirte. With or without Braulor, they had to try. Keep pushing as far as they could. It wasn't much, tenuous at best, but it was something to lean on; solid ground on which Tagan could plant his feet and look forward. It steeled his resolve and Tagan was grateful. He would honour his brother in the best way possible. They would find the Amber Eye and return it to Lefirte.

"We have to get out of here, Tagan." Rean Le's voice was soft and melodious. She didn't know Tagan or any of the men with him but she felt remorse for him. Pity, they had come so far only to suffer such an egregious loss. Perhaps it was because they were against Kyriu. Fighting side by side with them had bonded them, even if only in a small way. Perhaps it was because there was part of her found Tagan attractive. Rean Le didn't know but wanted to assuage Tagan's feelings.

Rean Le was right of course. Braulor was gone and nothing Tagan could do was going to bring him back. He could sit there until the end of time. Until the dirt he was so sure Braulor was beneath consumed him as well but it would change nothing. Still, Tagan didn't want to leave. The resolve he had found was already being tested and he wanted to run to his pack, get his shovel out and start digging. And dig and dig until he found Braulor.

"Braulor is gone Tagan. There's nothing we can do for him now." Rean Le was firm now but she could feel Tagan's pain. It was throbbing through him in waves of increasing intensity like a volcano about to erupt but she was certain there would be more men on the way.

Rean Le's voice cut through Tagan's thoughts and soothed his heartache. A heartache he didn't think could be balmed or salved in any way. He wasn't surprised. Nothing would surprise him at this point after everything he had seen and learned. He wondered if anything would be able to surprise him ever again.

With great reluctance, Tagan stood; bristling as Rean Le's hand slipped away from his shoulder and breaking the glorious physical connection he was clinging to for support. How long have I been here? He knew it was mere moments but his knees complained at the strain of standing. Tagan's head swooned as he reached his full height. Embarrassed he had been crying, he couldn't bring himself to look at Rean Le and looked around for Crenoah, Drebos and Stonjsin, hastily wiping his face with the backs of his hands when he was turned away from her.

Crenoah marched up to Tagan, right to the same spot Braulor had last been and stood there staring at the ground, not saying a word. Crenoah's clothes were glistening with patches of blood. Some was his own, flowing freely from some unseen wound on his shoulder. The rest had to be from the unmoving guard he had been battling.

Stonjsin appeared at Crenoah's side within seconds. "What happened, Tagan? Where is Braulor?" Stonjsin gestured at the ground as if Tagan didn't know what he was talking about.

All Tagan could do was shrug his shoulders in response. He didn't know what to tell them. Being absorbed in the fight, they hadn't seen the dramatic disappearance of Braulor and Kyriu with the Shadowkeeper.

They all stood staring at the non-descript patch of ground for what seemed an eternity, as if by staring hard enough and long enough, it would be enough to bring Braulor back. Draw him back from wherever he had gone with nothing but the power of their thoughts.

"What happened to Drebos?" Crenoah asked, his neck creaking as he glanced around, disturbing the silence.

All other thoughts went out of their minds and everybody tensed at the question.

Rean Le stepped away from Tagan and with a flick of her arm had her bow at the ready, arrow nocked. Her eyes scanned the area as she stepped gingerly in a small circle.

"He was near me, fighting that burly guard but then I lost track of him." Stonjsin's head was bobbing back and forth as he tried to spy Drebos through the foliage.

Tagan was amazed that Stonjsin was able to see what was going on with Drebos even as he fought for his own life.

"Spread out, we have to find him." Crenoah grimaced as he stepped away from the group, walking with measured steps toward where the bulk of the fighting had taken place.

It didn't take much urging as each of them was glad to have something to do. A task to take their minds off what happened to Braulor and put their focus and attention on something they could control.

Crenoah and Stonjsin went in opposite directions and were soon consumed by the brush. The faint rustle of tree branches swaying as they moved among them was the only indication they were there at all.

Tagan felt naked without a weapon and lost without Braulor so he tried to stay close to Rean Le as she set out in a third direction. It was difficult though. Rean Le moved quick and lithe through the trees and brush as though they were nothing but air. Tagan stumbled along behind her trying his best to not make any noise.

Rean Le stopped at a few points along the way, crouching down low to the ground, scouring the bush ahead of her with an intense gaze, unmoving. Without saying a word, she would stand again and move on. More than once she gave Tagan a fierce look that reminded him to keep quiet.

Tagan and Rean Le completed a sweep of the area in a large circle but did not find any sign of Drebos. They made their way back to Crenoah and Stonjsin who were standing among the carnage of the recent battle.

"He's not among any of these guys." Stonjsin flicked the leg of the closest body with his foot. The leg flopped out at an odd angle and stayed there.

"We didn't find anything either." Tagan was slightly concerned that the bodies in the immediate area were not bothering him in any way. Was he too overcome with grief? Or was he hardened already from the carnage he had witnessed at Vjeinka Rise? Either way, it was disconcerting to him and he forced himself to look anywhere else.

"There were tracks leading away from here," Rean Le announced, contradicting Tagan's report, "heading off in that direction." she said, pointing toward one of the paths she had scrutinized during her and Tagan's search.

"Who's tracks are they? Can you tell?" Crenoah's gaze was fixed firmly in the direction Rean Le had indicated.

"They weren't made by the boots of your clan." Rean Le cast a quick glance at Stonjsin's and Crenoah's mud caked boots. "The tracks were deep and ill formed. If I had to guess, I would say they belong to one of these guards." she finished, nodding her head toward the heap of bodies.

Crenoah's head whipped around and he quickly counted the bodies once again. "There are only three guards here," he announced, stunned he had missed this vital fact earlier.

"One of the guards must have carried off Drebos." Stonjsin added gruffly. "Where are these tracks?" he asked, turning to Rean Le.

Rean Le led them to where she had found the tracks and they gathered around to investigate.

Stonjsin and Crenoah crouched down and were silent as they stared at the deep-set prints, each of them running a finger gently around the perimeter of the depression.

The tracks were short lived and only carried on down the trail for maybe four or five steps before they disappeared.

"What do we do now?" Tagan was genuinely confused as to what course of action they should follow. Braulor being gone was hard enough to deal with and now this. All he wanted to do was curl up into the fetal position and hope everything would go away. Hope everything would take care of itself and he could go back to being a simple farm boy. But he knew that wouldn't happen. Couldn't happen. He was in too deep now. He had to see this through.

"We go after them." Stonjsin stood up as he said this, the authority in his voice making his intentions crystal clear.

"I agree." Crenoah continued to crouch and search the immediate area with a slow, steady gaze. "Drebos would come looking for us. It's the least we can do."

Tagan agreed, even though he had little idea what else he was supposed to do. He didn't like the idea of leaving anyone behind if they could help it. He knew if it was himself out there he would be praying for someone to come to his aid. For someone to come find him. "Ok. We go after them." he finally said out loud.

"I won't be going with you." Rean Le shifted, taking on a majestic and defiant stance, bracing for the arguments she was certain would be coming.

Tagan's mouth fell open while his brain scrambled trying to find the words that would relay his shock and disappointment. Rean Le was the reason he was here in the first place. She was who Meyu Kwi had told him he needed to find because Rean Le could help them recover the Amber Eye. After all they had gone through to find her and now this? He was flabbergasted. When he spoke, his throat was tight and it felt like he had to force his words out. "What do you mean you're not coming?"

"I don't belong in your world." Rean Le shook her head as she said this as if to punctuate what she was saying. She could see the stunned look on their faces, especially Tagan's, and understood their dismay. Part of her couldn't believe what she was saying either. But the brief glory she felt as she fought by their sides had faded with her adrenaline and she could only remember the worst parts of the quest which brought her here. Of all she gave up. It was a wound she was reticent to re-open.

Stonjsin shifted as he looked at Rean Le. She looked him in the eye before turning her head and averting her gaze. Stonjsin understood her. Understood what she must be feeling. Their intrusion on her world had been like a time bomb from the past, blowing her peace into smithereens. But without her, this was all for naught. The slaughter of the Greejon clan. Braulor's disappearance. It would all mean nothing if she didn't help them. "Like it or not, you are a part of this world too, Rean Le."

"No." It came out in a scream, raw and throaty. Rean Le reigned in her emotions before continuing. "I came here to be away from your world. To shut myself off from its goings on." Rean Le hated to admit it but the mention of the Amber Eye had rekindled a fire inside her she had thought was long snuffed. Even now her mind was racing through the possibilities of what finding the eye would mean. But there were also the hard memories. The fights and battles she had had along the way. The close calls and denials that had demoralized her to the point where she had decided to abandon the quest and live out her life. The two sides were seesawing back and forth in her mind.

"But what about the Amber Eye? We need you to help us find it." Tagan's voice was rising and he was sure he had yelled this last statement louder than he intended to but he was scared all over again. Scared, this beautiful woman that stirred feelings in him he didn't even realize he had, would leave his life forever. Leave him on his own to find his way to the Amber Eye. He still wasn't even sure the Amber Eye existed in the first place, let alone have a clue as to where it may be now. Tagan's acceptance of this quest was based on a world that, up to now, only he could experience and that world told him the Amber Eye existed. That was it. No proof. No direction. He had to buy in and go on faith but doubt was starting to form in his mind. With the loss of Braulor and now Rean Le wanting to abandon them, it sent a cloud of uncertainty swirling around his head. He wished he could go home and forget about the whole thing altogether but he knew there was no way he could leave this quest. As daunting as everything seemed at the moment, he knew that he couldn't turn tail and hide now. Not after all the things he had seen. Not after all the experiences. Deep down, a part of him felt that if he could restore the Amber Eye to the Lefirte, that he could bring Braulor back; which, more than anything, was spurring him to see this through to the end.

"That's too bad. We could use a skilled fighter like you with us, especially one who knows these parts well." Crenoah was stone faced and solemn. He too wanted Rean Le to go with them. He had seen her in action and had to admit she was better than most with a blade but he was also a veteran of many battles and quests. He knew that a person's heart had to be in it or they would just be wasting everybody's time. If he were being totally honest with himself, he would admit he was glad to be going after Drebos and not chasing Tagan's quest. Crenoah's heart was drifting to the clan and he yearned to be back among them.

Rean Le acknowledged Crenoah's compliment with a small nod of her head. She gave Tagan a deep look as if to apologize and then turned and left the area, marching straight to where she had fought with the guard and picked up what she could of her weapons. Without looking back, she melted into the trees like she was one of them.

Tagan tried to engage his mouth to say something that would make her stay and help them but he knew he couldn't change her mind. He took a few feeble steps in Rean Le's direction as if he was going to chase after her and Stonjsin grabbed his arm. Tagan turned to look at him and Stonjsin only shook his head in an 'it's not worth it' way and Tagan sagged in his steely grip.

"We better get moving. It's going to start getting dark soon." Crenoah was taking note of where the sun was in the sky and wanted to get moving while there was still light.

"Let's get what we can from this lot first." Stonjsin released Tagan's arm and moved to the nearest guard's body and knelt beside him, rummaging through the man's pack and armour.

Crenoah followed suit and started to search another of the guard's bodies.

The clearing was shrouded in silence. Tagan's head was slowly pivoting back and forth from the scavenging going on to the last place he had seen Rean Le before she had walked out of his life. He still had half a mind to chase after her which was probably not a good idea. He might end up on the receiving end of one of Rean Le's arrows. In a span of moments, the two most important people in his life had vanished. With a huge, resigned sigh, Tagan turned his back to where Rean Le might be and joined Crenoah and Stonjsin as they rifled through the deads belongings, making a little pile that they would later share.

Chapter 3

"Let's move out." Stonjsin, Crenoah and Tagan had relieved the guards of what they felt was valuable and could be of use. The Citadel guards had travelled light, evidently not expecting to be away for a long period of time, each of them carrying only meager rations and water. They did find some gold and silver but mainly they found weapons and shields. Crenoah took the armor from one guard who appeared to be the same size and whose armor was in much better condition than his own. The armor was a tight fit though, leaving parts of Crenoah bulging out from the armor wherever there was a gap, much to Stonjsin's delight who used the opportunity to make some playful jests at Crenoah's expense. They all joined in on the joke, finding the laughter to be healing and also lightened the mood. But Crenoah was comfortable and he took some obligatory swipes with his sword to make sure that his movement wasn't restricted.

Tagan, however, scowled at Stonjsin's command. He had been happy to dawdle and drag his feet while they helped themselves to the guard's items and it was his idea to give the Citadel guards at least some sort of recognition by way of funeral, arguing that even they deserve better than to rot out here in the forest. He wasn't concerned about the guards though. Tagan was being selfish and hoped if he could delay long enough, Rean Le would emerge triumphantly from the forest, having reconsidered her choice and wanting to rejoin them with their quest. It was a fool's hope but it was all the hope he had but he couldn't delay any longer. Even he knew it was time for them to move on. With one last longing glance at the shrouded woods that Rean Le had disappeared into, Tagan fell in step between Stonjsin and Crenoah as they headed out in search of Drebos.

The three of them stopped where the tracks Rean Le had found ended and tried to find where they picked up again. Stonjsin and Crenoah were skilled at tracking and methodically examined the prints and the immediate area. Tagan felt like a fifth wheel, looking on the ground for what, he didn't even know but tried anyway in an attempt not to look completely useless.

It was Stonjsin who found new clues. While Tagan and Crenoah performed a perfunctory search of the immediate area around the tracks, Stonjsin got low into a crouch and stayed there, without moving, for a long time. He didn't say anything or make any indication that he was doing anything besides crouching but he suddenly arose, apparently satisfied, and walked into the thin line of trees that lined the trail. With bloodhound like determination he turned his piercing gaze toward the ground and walked slowly, slipping through the trees like a ghost.

Tagan and Crenoah exchanged glances with one another and then returned their gaze to the trees, finding the vague form of Stonjsin still wandering slowly along some invisible line only he could see. Tagan sighed and chanced a glance back to where he had last seen Rean Le but was interrupted when Crenoah barked "He's found something." and marched stiffly into the trees.

Tagan swivelled his head back around and could see Stonjsin, waving his arms frantically at Crenoah and himself to come and join him. Tagan took a few quick steps and caught up to Crenoah, wondering what Stonjsin had found.

Stonjsin waited patiently for them, crouching once again as they arrived at his side and pointed at a single track he had managed to find among the loose needles that carpeted the ground.

Crenoah sank to one knee, wincing at a pinch from his new armor, and looked at the track. "Still no clearer," he said before casting his squinting gaze to the forest beyond.

"I agree. Something isn't right about these tracks. They look like they could be Drebos' but it's too hard to tell." Stonjsin was puzzled but he had an idea that was starting to take shape. An idea, which if true, shattered his image of the man he thought he knew.

"You think these are Drebos' tracks?" Crenoah wasn't sure he agreed and didn't bother to hide it, his voice tainted with the doubt he was feeling and he shook his head in disbelief.

"I think they very well may be." Stonjsin nodded his head slowly and pursed his lips as if he found the idea disheartening.

"Why would Drebos leave us?" Tagan's curiosity got the better of him as he listened to Stonjsin and Crenoah's exchange and couldn't help but interject.

"That I don't have an answer for." Stonjsin looked Tagan straight in the eye.

"It just doesn't make sense," Crenoah added, taking up Tagan's line of thought. "Drebos has been with the clan since birth. Why would he abandon us now? Especially out here by himself?" He finished, gesturing to the immediate area.

"I don't know, Crenoah, but Drebos has been acting strange ever since Vjeinka Rise."

"His dad was killed. How did you expect him to act?" Crenoah's incredulous voice was probably louder than he intended.

"Exactly, Crenoah. His dad was killed so I didn't pay close attention. I cut him some slack because I thought he was grieving and needed time to process."

"So what, you think he is running away from us? Running away from the clan?" Crenoah would never entertain such a thought and he couldn't fathom how anybody would. Leaving the clan would be like going from a mansion to live in some hovel. It made no sense to him.

"It's happened before, Crenoah." Stonjsin was growing stern, unable to hide his agitation at Crenoah's line of questioning. "Grief makes people do strange things. If this is something that Drebos has been thinking about, this would be the perfect way out don't you think? He disappears in the middle of a battle and nobody would really think anything of it."

"But you said you thought these tracks could be Drebos'. If they aren't his tracks, then whose tracks are they?"

Stonjsin was stymied by this question and shut his mouth, looking hard at the ground as if the answer would spring up from the earth itself.

"We buried three bodies." Tagan said, performing the math out loud that his brain had been working on, "and there were six altogether when we first encountered them."

"Yes, so?" Stonjsin was curious what Tagan was getting at.

"Where are you going with this Tagan?" Crenoah said.

"Well, if three of the guards are buried and Kyriu disappeared with Braulor." Tagan gulped as he said it, as if speaking it aloud closed the book on the matter, a book which he was determinedly keeping open. The thought was too painful to accept and he stopped for a moment to compose himself. The wound of losing Braulor was still too fresh, the mere mention of his name enough to hurt him like a kick to the ribs. "Then that would mean there is one person missing."

Stonjsin and Crenoah looked at each other, racking their brains to try and remember the chain of events that started this entire mess. "The whole battle began when Rean Le's arrow felled Lozan." Crenoah remembered the aching silence that followed as everyone hurried to assess the situation, sizing each other up as they knew the fight was going to be on. The calm before the storm as it were.

"It did and I don't remember seeing Lozan among the bodies." Stonjsin trailed off as the possibilities of what could have happened played in his imagination. How could he have not realized this before?

"So you think these tracks are Lozan's?" Crenoah wanted answers right now, to know who the tracks belonged to. After that was explained they could move on to the next question.

The fragments of the idea that had been swirling around Stonjsin's brain were gaining traction, finding one another as if they were magnetized and clumping together in a neat little package. "Possibly, but what if they are Drebos' tracks and he was carrying Lozan? That would explain why they are so deep and unreadable."

"That would make sense." Crenoah nodded his head absentmindedly as he weighed all the evidence available. Even if it did make sense, Crenoah still had trouble accepting it. "But why would Drebos take Lozan with him if he was trying to get away from the Clan? That would slow him down, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose it would." Stonjsin sighed and shook his head. This mystery seemed to be going in circles and was nowhere nearer to being solved.

"We need to go back and have another look around." Crenoah said. "Perhaps we missed Lozan. Maybe he crawled away during the battle and found some place to hide out."

"I agree." Tagan couldn't contain his enthusiasm and was all for going back if it meant there was a chance they could reconnect with Rean Le, but tried to hide his elation behind wanting to make sure they explored every avenue in an attempt to get to the bottom of what happened.

Stonjsin grumbled at the thought but conceded they would have to rule out everything they could and with nightfall coming on they couldn't mount any kind of pursuit anyway.

They found their way back to the main trail, leaving a marker so they wouldn't have to search for this spot again, and returned to the scene of the battle.

The three of them searched exhaustively in a wide circle around the burial mound, looking under every shrub and tree branches for Lozan's body but found nothing. Standing once again at the burial mound they each thought about what to do next.

"We should return to the last track we have before it gets too dark. See what we can find before night." Stonjsin concluded this was their best option.

Crenoah only nodded.

Tagan also agreed and gestured toward the path as his way of acknowledgement and fell in step behind Stonjsin and Crenoah as they trudged away from the clearing.

Drebos watched Tagan, Stonjsin and Crenoah walk away once more, equally sad and happy at the same time. He couldn't believe how close they had come to finding him. If they had come forward another dozen or so yards they would have been of top of him. He should have known Stonjsin and Crenoah wouldn't let him get away from them so easily. Drebos reflected on how much he had been through with the Stonjsin, Crenoah and the clan. He didn't regret any of it. On the contrary, he was proud to have been side by side with them through the highest of highs and lowest of lows. Their experiences together were at the base of who he had become. After the death of his father in the attack on the Vjeinka Rise, everything changed. It felt like his ties to the clan had been severed and he was flying solo. He hadn't come up with a concrete plan on the spot but he knew in his heart he would be leaving the clan. The opportunity presented itself when he dispatched the guard he had been fighting and stood over the injured leader of Brankin Huoh. As they locked eyes, Lozan pleaded with Drebos not to kill him. To spare his life and he would give Drebos anything he wished. It took only a heartbeat for Drebos to decide. He scooped up Lozan and trudged away as quickly as he could, leaving the sound of fighting raging behind him.

He pulled his hand away from Lozan's mouth, having placed it there to make sure his moaning didn't give them away when he spotted the Tagan and the others returning. "Anything I want, right?"

Lozan looked at Drebos, his half open eyes filled with weariness. With a mighty effort, he nodded to Drebos before his eyes closed fully and he slumped.

Chapter 4

Ehcim didn't move. He didn't have to. He knew the wielder of the blade was one of Lefirte's tenders, the Odign and not some random patrol he could take to task. The Odign were charged with keeping the Lefirte free from harm. They were mostly docile and peace loving but all of them were highly trained and skilled in the art of combat. Rarely had they needed violence to defend the tree but as the world was changing, so were the Odign.

Ehcim had seen them as he made his way to the Lefirte but was pretty sure he had eluded them. He knew their tactics and had been watching his objective for some time, planning his assault on the tree when he knew there would be very few Odign around. He even made sure to follow their own tracks in the snow so as not to alert them to his presence. He had been lucky so far he supposed but now Ehcim knew he was in trouble. He didn't know how much the Odign knew or perhaps witnessed but he had to buy himself some time. Ehcim took a deep breath and raised his head with agonizing slowness. Not that he was incapable of moving faster, he was. Nor was he paralysed by fear. Yes, he was concerned about the situation but he had to keep his wits about him. Ehcim was using this tactic to buy time as he slid his hand away from his ribs and toward the dagger he kept concealed under his shirt. His other hand took a tighter grip on the branch he had come to retrieve, pushing it deeper into the snow in the hopes that nobody had seen it and he was being stopped as some sort of transient. With any luck, his ruse would work and he could double back to retrieve the branch later when he would have a much better chance of keeping his head on his shoulders. Looking up, he could see two Odign in front of him, weapons drawn, hoods pulled over their heads, concealing their faces. Not that their faces mattered any, but a person's features did give away subtle clues about them and Ehcim needed any advantage he could get at the moment. With one behind him holding the anxious blade to his neck and another two in front of him, Ehcim concluded there were three altogether. From his reconnaissance, he had learned the Odign generally worked in groups of three. Sometimes more if they were doing drills and of course, in the current situation, there could easily be more. Most likely this was the first attack on the Lefirte in many an age and that would be enough to draw out the whole squad of them. But Ehcim had to hope for any chance of escape that three was all there was.

"What brings you here my friend?" The voice was as cold as the snow and the blade shifted uneasily on Ehcim's neck as its owner delivered the question as if it didn't want to wait for answer, it wanted vengeance right now. Spill his blood. It was vibrating with a lusty giddiness.

It felt to Ehcim as if the sword had a life force of its own. A sentience able to see right through his deception and take control of the situation, making its bearer bend to its will. It knew what he had done and had no time to wait for niceties. Ehcim swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and summoned the humblest voice he could muster, hoping it would be enough to placate the Odign. "My deepest apologies, sirs. I have lost my way in the snow. Forgive me if I have wandered on your land."

In keeping with his ploy Ehcim bowed his head again, committing the Odign's locations to memory, trying to estimate how far away they were while he gathered his nerve to mount some kind of attack.

"Where were you heading?" The blade bearer asked.

A tough question to answer. Phemma Eilod was the only territory out here. Most of it was uninhabited, its people choosing to live in its main city farther to the west. The Lefirte was given a wide swath of land to inhabit so the Odign were garrisoned here and would serve, tending and protecting the tree for months at a time. There was no real reason to be out here, unless he was going to the tree. Ehcim knew it. As did the owner of the steel hovering on his neck. "I was trying to get to Phemma Eilod to conduct trade." Ehcim knew it was a terrible lie as soon as it spewed from his lips but he couldn't think of anything else to say. He needed to keep them talking. Get their guard down enough so he could make some sort of escape attempt.

"You travel light for a salesman."

Ehcim's pack bobbed gently on his back as if someone were weighing it by hand.

"What were you planning on trading with, air?"

A light chuckle issued from the two Odign in front of him and Ehcim clenched his teeth, holding back the nasty diatribe he was longing to throw at them. He still had his head down in mock respect so his flaring anger remained secret for the moment but something strange happened to the piece of branch he was attempting to conceal under the snow. A slight tingling sensation encompassed his hand like a swarm of angry bees. It caught Ehcim off guard and he stuttered, his attention divided. "A wise observation. Phemma Eilod is rich with antiquities and delights that are in high demand by those that do not dwell here. It is these treasures I seek to take back to my storefront and sell with pride. As such I have only come with precious metals as my tender." Ehcim wasn't worried about being robbed. It wasn't the Odign's way. He tried to focus more intently on the sensation now surrounding his hand. It had faded almost as fast as it was there but Ehcim was certain it wasn't his imagination or the cold of the snow that had produced the effect. It was something different entirely.

A firmer rustling of Ehcim's pack followed by a stony silence. A quiet so thick it felt like it was going to swallow the whole lot of them. He was sure the silence was going to last forever and the cold seeping into Ehcim's knees through his clothes was concerning. If his legs grew too cold they wouldn't be as effective if the time came to fight. The blade at Ehcim's throat didn't budge but a delicate, trembling hand grasped his chin and raised his head so that he was looking into its owner's face. Ehcim hadn't even heard anyone move. "A nice story but it doesn't explain why you were in our tree." The words were delivered cold and menacing and an already tense situation plunged even deeper. The Odign's face was delicate and smooth, a rosy glow on his skin even in the sub-zero temperatures. Ehcim would always remember the eyes though. Blue as sapphires but crackling with an intensity that didn't have words. Electricity so alive they were hypnotic as you gazed into their aged wisdom.

"I was trying to get a better look around. See the lay of the land." Ehcim managed to blunder under the Odigns' piercing gaze.

Without saying a word one of the two Odign behind the leader sheathed his weapon and shimmied up the tree as easily as if he were walking on the ground. The cold and snow didn't seem to make a difference and in seconds the man disappeared into Lefirte's plentiful boughs. Ehcim tried desperately to turn his head and see what was happening but the grip on his chin was strong and fierce, housing a strength that didn't seem possible from such a graceful appendage. His eyes were free to move and he kept them on the Odign climbing the tree as long as he could, making them bulge out of their sockets and then returning them to the steely gaze of his captor, who hadn't moved an iota. It didn't even seem as if he blinked. The Odign's head tilted slightly to the side, as if he were listening to some unseen voice and Ehcim's eyes darted side to side to see if something was happening out of his sight line. The Odign's eyes snapped right to the area where Ehcim was trying to conceal the branch he had cut from the tree like he had some sort of radar for it. He couldn't have spotted it easier if it were coloured red.

"And what, is this?" The Odign reached out with a long, lanky leg and hooked the branch with his foot, pulling it above the snow line. A gasp escaped the mouths of the Odign and the sentry behind Ehcim's questioner dropped his weapon, and openly wailed, falling to his knees in the snow.

Ehcim looked toward the now exposed tree branch. It didn't look any different but the flecks of snow adorning its sides glistened in the meek light that was available, making it seem as if it were shot through with diamonds. It was so beautiful; he didn't want to look away. A huge well of peace and harmony swelled in his heart. It was like drinking liquid contentment and it flowed through his veins in warm pulses in tune with his heartbeat. It made his head swim and Ehcim could think of nothing that he would like to do more at the moment than cradle the branch to his chest as if it were one of his own limbs that had been severed. Love it like a lost child and find a way to return it to its source. As if it could feel his remorse the branch glowed beneath his hand. A dull tinge of pink at first that blossomed into a luscious shade of red, spreading out from his hand and along the branch in veins of joy that were as thin as spider strands but full of love so deep and touching that tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill out.

"Ehcim."

The voice echoed in Ehcim's head with the frankness of a slap across the face. It was filled with dread and a menace as cold as the snow he was kneeling in, wrenching him from the warm embrace he was descending into.

"What are you doing?"

Ehcim sputtered for a second, not wanting to let go of the glorious feeling tied to the branch but the voice, his masters voice, commanded him to do otherwise and he knew he had no choice but to obey. The red veins along the branch stopped their spreading encompassment and the branch returned to its original shade, the spark of love that was trying to form, snuffed out like a match in a cold winter breeze. Ehcim allowed the feeling to linger as long as he dared before pushing it aside, shoving it away like some unwanted busker he encountered at the market. "I have the branch as you requested, master."

"Then why do you delay?"

"I have run into an unforeseen difficulty, my lord." Ehcim braced himself. He knew what was coming next and he hated it. His eyes blurred for a moment as his master's consciousness forced his way inside his body, taking control of his vision. He felt like he was a child being admonished, scolded for not getting home from school quick enough. Ehcim's head turned from side to side, taking in the situation, as if someone had their hand on top of it and was forcing it left and then right in a slow vigil.

"There are only two of them." His master's voice pointed out.

Ehcim could feel the disdain, the scorn at his not having already dispatched these trained Odign. "There is a third in the tree, master."

"No matter. Be done with them and get moving. My window is approaching and without the branch the whole ritual is for not. Or is that what you are doing, Ehcim? You have changed your mind on what I am about to do?"

It was Ehcim's turn to return the sentiment. "Of course not, my lord, you know I am committed to your vision."

"Then stop wasting time and kill them. It will do much to convince me you were the right choice as my assistant."

The words stung Ehcim more than he cared to let on. He thought he had demonstrated his loyalty to his master several times over at this point. His desire to see his Lords vision come to life shouldn't still be in question. "Of course, my lord. I will deal with them at once."

Ehcim returned his gaze to the Odign standing before him. He looked so young to Ehcim. A boy barely become a man. And now the Odign would not live a full life. Ehcim could have barged his way to the tree, killing everybody along the way, if he so desired. But he didn't lust for blood. or for power. He didn't want to kill these boys but there was no way around it now.

"Do you have an answer for this atrocity?" The Odign didn't flinch as the third member of their squad landed on the snowy ground below Lefirte with nary a sound.

It was the break in energy Ehcim needed though and a flood of rage poured through him like water released from a broken dam. He didn't know where it came from but it burned at his soul, the synapses of his brain engulfed with rage. It roared through his body with a shimmer, bouncing around the enclosure of his skin like some crazed animal longing to escape. He grasped the hilt of his concealed dagger with one hand and sprang to his feet, swinging the branch around and parrying the sword at his neck aside before the Odign knew what was happening. He spun around, revealing and releasing the knife in one blur of motion. The Odign from the tree stood to his full height as the knife buried itself deep into his forehead. The Odign stumbled backward a step from the force of the blow. And then another. He looked around, confused, unsure of what was happening and in the next instant, fell back. He lay motionless against the tree in an awkward, twisted position, discarded like a piece of trash.

The Odign in front of him shrieked as he watched his friend die and whipped his sword around once more looking to lop off Ehcim's head in one go.

With nothing else to defend himself, Ehcim wielded his tree branch as he would any other weapon, bringing it up to meet the Odign sword with a dull thunk, but the blade didn't pierce the bark. It had gone black. A dark, murky black that looked like it had been smeared with the coal of a fire pit. It was giddy and alive in his hand as it had been with love only a few moments ago but now it was filled with rage. His rage somehow had transferred into the branch. Ehcim was so shocked, he almost dropped it. A punch to the ribs brought him back to his senses and he was back in fight mode. He gasped, the wind knocked out him, his thoughts scattered. A second punch to the ribs. The Odign was fast. Sword pulled away from the branch as another punch, this time to his cheekbone, landed flush, sending Ehcim tumbling to the ground, his head swimming in a sea of stars. His anger increased tenfold, burning through the veil of blurred vision. It hadn't helped that his master had taken control of his faculties. It left him feeling like his senses were dulled in some way, not as keen as he needed them to be. Ehcim tried to use any of his other senses to track his attacker but the Odign were so well trained it was like trying to hear a breeze in a hurricane. The tremor of a foot planting beside him and Ehcim latched onto it, spinning toward it with all his weight. The knee crumpled and the Odign landed heavily on Ehcim, delivering a sharp elbow to the ribs at the same time. Ehcim lashed out, he still hadn't let go of the tree branch and his strike was feeble at best but it found the Odign's nose. It didn't break but judging by the scream, it was no glancing blow. The Odign turned the tables and rolled again, Ehcim's centre of gravity flipped once more but he grabbed around the Odign's midsection like it was a life preserver to a drowning man. They tumbled and rolled, perhaps three or maybe four revolutions. Ehcim didn't care, he made sure to hang on and when they came to a stop he had managed to land on top. Like a strong man bracing for a lift he planted his knees and reared up. He wanted to swing the branch like a baseball bat but they were in too close quarters and he had to settle for crosschecking the Odign in the face with it instead. Two hard shots but the Odign didn't look fazed. As Ehcim launched a third strike the Odign got one arm free and grabbed the branch, pushing it to the side as he spun his body the opposite way. So consumed with rage, the move was enough to throw Ehcim's equilibrium off and his attack sailed wide, harmlessly striking the snow. The Odign pushed his knees under Ehcim's crotch, shoving hard and scurried out the bottom as fast a squirrel. Ehcim emphasized the forward roll and went right over onto his feet again and jumped around. The Odign was looking at his hand, the same hand he had grabbed the branch with, as if it had caused him pain. Ehcim didn't care and roared to the attack again. A savage blow to the side of the skull and the Odign hadn't had time to mount a defence. Bones collapsed from the force and the light in his eyes went dark as he flopped to the snowy ground and after a few involuntary twitches, didn't move again.

Ehcim staggered back, away from the Odign, gasping and clutching at his side. His ribs were searing with pain. He wanted to scream from the agony but didn't. Exhausted as he was, the image of the third Odign popped into his mind. He spun around looking for him, like a drunk, lurching his way out of the pub after one too many but everywhere he cast his eyes there was no sign of the third. For a moment, he was glad. He didn't have the energy for another fight but with the clarity of a lightning strike, it hit him. The third had gone for reinforcements.

Chapter 5

"It's mine." Braulor hollered, wrenching on the staff once again. His words died on his lips, not even making it out of his mouth as if the ability to make sound had never been invented. Shocked as he was, he was undeterred and summoned all the strength he could, closed his eyes, and yanked on the staff with every ounce of his might. As he shut his eyes, everything went dark, abnormally dark, and he snapped his eyes open. It was still dark. Dark beyond anything he had ever experienced before and he had been in some deep, dark caves in the mountain. He swivelled his head in all directions and the darkness followed. At jagged intervals, like branches of an unseen tree, Braulor could see strands of light pointing outward in all sorts of strange angles. It seemed like they were an eternity of distance away from him, yet they were there. Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands or even millions but they were not reachable. Only teasers of better places than the darkness he was in. It was a different type of darkness though. Not like anything he had experienced before. This darkness felt sentient, like it had a motive all its own for being there. It was darker even than the Shadowkeeper. Shadowkeeper. A visage jarred his memory and Braulor turned his senses to the onslaught the Shadowkeeper had been waging on his brain only to find it receding. If onslaught was the proper word for it, but Braulor didn't know how else to describe the feeling. The sensation, like sinews of anger, fingers of relentless probing, were ebbing from his body, from his person, in slow waves like shadows running before a lamp as you walked down a dark path. Like the waves of the ocean, drifting away from the purchase of land they held in tiny increments as the tide went out. Braulor looked down at his hands. The skin was stretched so tight across them; you could almost see the veins beneath, knuckles sticking out like ice bergs. They clasped the staff as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. He briefly wondered what would happen if he were to let go but knew that he couldn't. His hands were fixed to the staff like it had become a part of him and he of it. He let his gaze drift along the staff's length the other end. Kyriu was still there, eyes closed tight, holding on to the end he fought to retain as his lips continued in a continuous stream of unheard dialogue. Around them the Shadowkeeper swirled, like some primordial fog of hatred, but his attack had been stalled. Stymied for the moment by Kyriu's incantation but both knew the fight was far from over. If either the Shadowkeeper or Kyriu were in shock about where they were, neither showed it.

"All the powerful spells at your disposal and this is the best you could do Kyriu?" The Shadowkeeper mocked Kyriu. If he had a form anyone recognized, the Shadowkeeper would be shaking his head in disappointment. He had sifted through Kyriu's brain and knew he was capable of so much more. He knew where they were but there was nothing for him here. His power was being rendered null in this space and he had to withdraw his attack to preserve what he could of his potency. At the very least he could get out of here. But it would be without either of them or the staff. Anger flared in him as he realized that he was no longer in Brankin Huoh's realm. No longer able to exact revenge as he had hoped.

Kyriu's eyelid flipped open and his eyes swivelled around in a slow circle, taking stock of the situation but his lips didn't stop moving. He didn't know why the Shadowkeeper stopped his attack but he was taking the opportunity while his mind was free and clear to work the spell that he hoped would return him to his reality. Without the proper time to prepare and the usual components available, it was a patchwork guess at best but it was all he had. Would it even work out here, where sound had no substance? He didn't know but it was the only shot he had. He had to take it.

"What are you up to now, old friend?" The Shadowkeeper's interest in what Kyriu was doing spiked and for the moment he forgot all about Braulor. He could feel a wave building around Kyriu, in slow pulses that were growing in intensity.

Kyriu's lips stopped and his eyes locked on Braulor.

Braulor could feel the enmity Kyriu harboured toward him. Cold and un-abating like ice covered tundra, it knew no bounds and it made Braulor shudder. Even out here, where ever here was and where everything felt neutral, there was an unmistakable wall of hatred.

The Shadowkeeper drifted toward Kyriu, looking, studying, and feeling the building wave of energy emanating from Kyriu. It was almost at a crescendo when he realized what was happening and he had a fraction of a second to decide and make his own move. The Shadowkeeper summoned all his remaining power and rammed it the staff. It launched into the wood like water into desert sand, wicking away in a flash.

Braulor felt a surge in energy along the staff but it wasn't trying to repel him. His grip remained firm as the energy rang from end to end like an echo looking for a direction. His eyes found Kyriu, who was starting to dissipate. As if he were being slowly erased, Kyriu was fading before Braulor's eyes into a rift of some sort. Like water going down a drain, bit by bit Kyriu was flying away.

Happy with how the spell was working, the Shadowkeeper wrapped his form around Kyriu's hands, oozing and transmuting through flesh and under bone with ease.

Kyriu's grip on the staff loosened and his hand slid down the shaft an inch, maybe two, before stopping. His eyes filled with rage and he fought to try and hang on, to reaffirm his grip but the Shadowkeeper only slid under his hands even more. Kyriu slipped once more, struggling hand over hand but the Shadowkeeper was like oil on his hands and each time he let go, his grip worsened. He was hanging on with the fingertips of one hand now. Like a spider perched on the end of the staff his fingers flexed and wriggled for anything they could grasp, but he was like a ghost now. Opaque to the point where even the darkness was more visible than he. He couldn't see any part of himself. The nails of his fingers, his last vestige for possible freedom, were the only solid part of him left. He could only hope his spell had worked and wasn't being erased.

Braulor could feel the staff was delighted, humming with an intensity that seemed to be of another world. It was almost all his and his alone. Braulor didn't stop to wonder what that would mean, out here in the nothingness. He didn't care. The staff would be his for all eternity.

Kyriu's tenuous grip broke from the staff, his hand flapping and flailing as it tried to find firmament as if he was trying to do some strange finger puppet's play but the Shadowkeeper filled the void between Kyriu's fingertips and the oasis they were seeking.

The Shadowkeeper looked to Braulor. "You can't stay here."

And then Kyriu was gone, the Shadowkeeper with him.

Braulor didn't know what to even think. He was elated to have the staff to himself but the glory of his victory began to fade at once. Flagging and crashing under the reality of where he was and the nothing he could do about it. He didn't have long to think about it though as the energy in the staff flared, coming out from the staff like a giant bubble and enveloped him. He looked around the strange encasement he found himself in. It was a marvel of, of. Of what, he couldn't place. It reminded him of a spider's web or a patchwork quilt but made of ether. From nothingness. He reached a hand out to touch it and see what it felt like but before he could make contact, it shrank down to nothing.

Chapter 6

Braulor was wrapped tightly in his blanket. Warmth surrounded him. Warmth like he was in the womb. A warmth like he was being cradled in his mother's arms and there was nothing in the world that was better than this moment and he sighed, savouring it. Looking around he could see the familiar confines of his tent. Everything was much the same, yet it wasn't. The blankets were different. His tent opening was on the wrong side. His once oaken trunk now a sturdy metal, showing hints of rust along the metal straps and hinges. Even though it was his, the trunk kept pulling his gaze to it, like it held some unseen magnet his eyes found irresistible. He inventoried the contents of the trunk in his mind and couldn't identify what would need his attention at the moment, yet he couldn't stop looking at it. As if in a trance he slowly pulled the blankets away from himself and sat upright. The blankets were cold to his touch. Shimmery and elusive like there were made of silk. Not like my blankets at all and Braulor looked at them, curled and tossed beside him in a haphazard way. They looked like snakes and indeed acted like them in the corner of his eyes as he returned his gaze to the trunk. He spun his feet out of the bed, not relaxing for a second where he was looking. The floor was also cold, the bottoms of his feet feeling like they had been plunged into ice water, but it was also spongy, like a grassy knoll after heavy rainfall. The oddities of the floor still weren't enough to make him look away from the metal chest at the end of his bed. The trunk was all he could think about now. It was his lone thought. A singular focus in the vast empty world that was suddenly his tent. Braulor stood his legs quivering and unsure on the floor beneath him. He paused for a second, getting himself oriented before taking a cautious step toward the trunk. His eyes opened wide as he realized he was still holding the blanket. It was clutched in his left hand like it was a life line. As if without he would be lost and swallowed into the void. But what void. This was his tent, wasn't it? His heart began to race. He didn't know what was going on anymore. He tried to throw the blanket from his hand but it only flailed away from the bed, up and down, up and down, like he was trying to shake dirt from it. The chest seemed to be pulsating now. It was a strange, low, thumping keeping time with his heartbeat and was getting faster. It reminded him of someone beating a drum. He took a deep breath in through his nose to try and calm himself. A tangy, sanguine tinge surged up his nose and trachea, into his lungs. It didn't burn, but it was unpleasant. He had to know what was in the chest. It was calling to him so urgently. His legs felt like they had turned to stone and he had to work hard, forcing them to move. One lurching step, followed by another. The blanket trailed behind him, falling off the bed in slippery waves to the floor. Braulor didn't care about it anymore. Let it come. He stumped his way around the trunk, falling to his knees in front of it. With a trembling hand, he pulled the silver chain up and let it drop to the front of his shirt. The key on the end bumped gently into his chest. He fumbled for a moment with his right hand, getting the key into position and pushing it forward toward the lock. It slid into the keyhole without a problem and a gentle snick issued from the mechanism as it unlocked. He pulled the key out and let it drop once more. His left hand was humming slightly, the blanket seeming to take on a life of its own. What was going on? The chest would have the answer. He knew it in his gut. Felt it instinctively like a truism straight from creation itself. Braulor gulped and pushed the trunk lid back with a forceful shove of his hand and fell back expecting some fanciful release of the energy within. But there was nothing. No genie came flying out of the bottle. Braulor remained motionless, bated breath caught somewhere in his throat, still expectant.

"Who are you?" A strange voice said. Like the quirks of his tent, the voice sounded near at hand yet at the same time, disembodied. As if it was part of the makeup of the room and not external from it. It wasn't loud or startling. It didn't frighten him.

Not wanting to take his eyes off the trunk if he could help it, Braulor shifted his eyes from side to side so fast that the whites of his eyes were a blur, like the trail of a shooting star. He still didn't see a source for the voice. As far as he could tell he was all alone and despair was setting in. The trunk was open and nothing was happening. Maybe the voice was coming from the trunk he wondered. He shook his head. That was absurd. It was his trunk. He packed it and knew what was in it. Or did he? The strangeness of where he was taking on a new light as a spark of awareness came to life in his mind.

"You don't know your name, eh? That's ok. I've been getting that a lot since I got here."

Braulor tried to analyze the voice. It had a tone that he seemed to recognize but at the same time it had a childlike quality to it that wasn't familiar to him, a wonderment that hadn't been pushed aside by adulthood. An innocence that reminded him of the kids around camp. Were they playing some sort of trick on him?

"Do you want to know my name?"

A hand landed on Braulor's shoulder and the trunk slammed shut, disappearing into ghostly mist right before his eyes, his bed with it. The tent lit at the seams like a fire had sprung to life outside of it before dissolving from the roof down in an even burn that consumed all four walls with the same determined pace.

"No." The secret in the trunk was lost. Braulor awoke with the sound of his anguished wail filling his ears before cutting off completely. His mouth didn't close but sound stopped issuing from it like he had used all the air in his lungs and couldn't force even another squeak out. Am I dead?

Braulor was lying on his back looking straight up. A round face hovered above his, blotting out what looked like infinite darkness beyond. If it was a face, it was hard to tell as the face seemed to keep shifting back and forth from grown man to child and back again. It was almost if it couldn't make up its mind and was switching between the two trying to find the one most comfortable, much the way one tries to find a cozy position while falling asleep. It was disconcerting.

"Oh good. Your dream is over."

The face contorted into what looked like a smile. Braulor made to sit up and the face didn't move. The smiling face stayed right where it was, shimmering like a reflection on a wavy pond.

"What you got there, mister?" The face made a pointing gesture with its chin, while the eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed.

Braulor closed his mouth. It was such a slow process; it was like he was afraid if he moved too fast he would crack his jaw. With his mouth shut he glanced toward his left. Clutched in his hand was the staff. The staff he, Kyriu and the Shadowkeeper had fought over. He looked back at the face above him as realizations began to wash over him. The staff had somehow brought him here, wherever here was. Not of its own bidding, rather at the bidding of the Shadowkeeper. The Shadowkeeper reminded him of the face hovering above his own and he looked again to the staff, tightening the grip on it with a sickly white hand. He couldn't explain why, but Braulor knew the staff was his lifeline, his sustenance. Like a man overboard in an ocean clinging to a buoy, the staff was the only thing keeping him alive in this place. Without it he would drown. Braulor sat up, not waiting for the face to move any longer, cradling the staff in both arms, close to his chest. He was surprised when the face didn't move but even more shocked when he realized he had passed right through it. Childhood memories sprang to life as he did so. Not his but rather this person who was hovering over him. They were in and out so fast they barely registered but Braulor could feel them like warmth among the chill, a tiny fire battling against icy tides. The face didn't seem bothered by what had happened and now Braulor could see the person's full body. It was the body of a man but it too had the same shimmery quality to it. In and out of adulthood. Not shrinking in size or stature but only in appearance.

"It looks familiar to me. I don't know why?" The person's hand moved toward the staff as if it were hypnotized.

Braulor shifted away from the person, not wanting them to touch it. The ground here was like the floor had been in his dream and he wondered for a moment if he had left one dream and entered another.

The hand stopped its forward progression, a puzzled look spreading over the face. It was as if the person were struggling with some sort of confliction. "I'm sorry, mister. I know I shouldn't touch what's not mine without permission." He hung his head like a child being scolded for taking an extra cookie.

"It's ok." Braulor was startled by the sound of his own voice. He hadn't been sure it would even work. It felt like a cloud came out of his mouth, each word its own balloon. "You startled me is all."

The person looked up, a cheerful smile replacing the puzzlement that he been there moments before. "It looks really cool, mister. Can I play with it?"

"Maybe, but not right now." Braulor didn't want to try to explain his thoughts about the staff keeping him alive and thought it would be best to diffuse the situation instead of outright denying him until he could get a better handle on the situation.

"That sound's neat, mister. Thanks." And he sat back, the smile, his smile still beaming at Braulor.

"Can you tell me your name?" Braulor asked.

Blankness swept over the person's face, the smile fading into a formless thin line, eyes wide as if Braulor had asked him the secret of the universe. "My name?" and he brought a hand up, scratching the top of his head.

Braulor backed away a little further, unsure where this was going to go. This, person, or entity, was an unknown commodity. For all he knew the person didn't want to share his name and was going to lash out.

The person's face broke into surprised happiness, hands flinging up in an obvious 'aha' moment. "My name is, Draax." he pronounced., The words tumbled out of his mouth in an excited jumble and finished by hooking a thumb toward himself, nodding in relief he had remembered.

Now it was Braulor's turn to be surprised. He had felt that he knew the person in some way and he had been silently trying to put a name to the face but Draax never even entered into his mind. Images of Draax's body exploding from the force of the Shadowkeeper forcing his way out of it was still fresh on his mind even thought if felt like it happened aeons ago. He swallowed hard as flashes of the scene from the clearing popped into his mind like some sort of gruesome firework display. "Draax?" It came out as a whisper, intended more for his own ears than anyone else's. As if saying the name would bring it all home for him and help to make sense of everything.

"Yes, mister?" Draax asked, happy to answer to his name now he had remembered it.

"Draax." Braulor repeated the name once more, this time a little louder, out of a sense of disbelief but also as a means to buy himself time to think.

"Yes?" Draax looked to Braulor, his inquisitive smile back, bright and wide across his lips.

Braulor shook his head, trying to dispel the confusion. He looked at Draax's face, the smile locked in place. He was sure Draax would be more than happy to sit here and answer to his name all day long. "How did you get here?"

Draax was stymied. He understood the question but his only recollections were of here. Of this place. "I don't know what you mean, mister."

"How did you get here? To this place?" Braulor gestured around them, using the staff as a pointer.

"I've always been here." Draax's head tic tocked from side to side as he spoke as if it were reacting to an internal beat. He had found himself here as if he had appeared out of thin air into this dark place which, as far as he was concerned, was when time began.

"But, don't you remember Brankin Huoh? Don't you remember the band of men you used to command?"

Draax didn't understand what Braulor was talking about and continued to look at him, smiling the entire time, but not unable to deliver any answer.

Braulor was out of ideas and all he could do was stare back at Draax. He didn't know what had happened to him but the Draax he knew was no longer there. To Braulor it was like trying to talk to a child. He decided to change his approach. "Do you know where we are, Draax?"

"We are here." Draax was starting to feel uncomfortable. He didn't have an answer to this question either and he didn't see how it was important. He could see beings drifting here and there around him but none seemed to take notice of him. If he tried to get their attention, they would cast baleful glances in his direction, their eyes filled with a dread and sorrow that was profound even for this place. From that time, he had taken to wandering the land, keeping to himself as much as possible. Until he had met Braulor, he had no meaningful interaction with anyone else. He had accepted that was how it was going to be. All he knew was that he was here and now he had somebody to talk to. Somebody that could see him and interact with him.

"Where is here?"

Draax screwed up his face as if it physically hurt to think so deeply but he really wanted to come up with an answer this time. He tried to recall the few encounters he had with the beings here. One episode came to mind. He had been walking along when he noticed a clot of entities swarming something and he had stopped to watch. The beings were writhing like a den of vipers, vying for control. Unable to resist he approached the throng and after watching silently a little longer, he spoke to them. They flew apart like an explosion but hung in the air as if they were amoebas squished between plates for a microscope slide. A few drifted closer to him but immediately withdrew. Draax could see the object of their attention now. It was a particularly dark being, so black as to be almost invisible in this place. It looked at him, not in a pleading way but more of a gratified way, as if he were getting his just deserts. A wicked smile twitched on his lips but he drew no closer to Draax or made any motion to leave. Draax started to back away and with each step the beings in suspended animation broke their formation and drew tighter to the one they were savaging. Draax turned and ran as the dark being screamed, loud and raw, like there was no worse pain in the world to feel. On tides of the scream, Draax heard only, "Welcome to Tâ Oandimn."

Chapter 7

Ehcim shook his head and winced once more as a sharp jab shot through his ribcage. Though the memories were still so fresh, loaded with the adrenaline of escape, he had to shunt them aside. Put them back in the recesses of his mind and focus on staying alive. He had been running, slogging his way through the snow for hours now. Dawn was long past and the thin layer of wispy cloud, almost a perfect replica of the snowy ground, diffused the sun, turning it into a translucent yellow-orange smear, like a dab of colour the artist was unhappy with and deposited it at the edge of his palette. Ehcim squinted up into the sky anyway, trying to get a read on the sun's location so he could approximate the time. His master had arranged a time for them to meet, giving Ehcim a limited window of opportunity in which to retrieve the branch and have it in his master's possession. There was a grander time scale involved in the entire matter but Ehcim was never made privy to all the details. Get the branch and return it to his master had been his only mantra.

Through squinted eyes, Ehcim deduced it was shortly past noon, leaving him only the rest of this day and the next to get to his meeting spot. Ehcim returned his gaze downward, closing his eyes and rubbing them gently with the forefinger and thumb of one hand, making the sun spots flare up and dance as he tried to massage the weariness from them. He shook his head at his own folly. Had he not spent that extra time watching the Odign he would still have plenty at his disposal to meet with his master.

I better get moving then. It was more of a command than a thought. A way to cut through the chaotic thoughts Ehcim was fighting hard to keep at bay in order to focus. Keep moving forward. It was all he could do right now and he urged his stiff and cold muscles to listen to his thoughts. It took some effort to lift a burning foot out of the knee-deep snow and step forward. A lurching step he hoped would turn into an avalanche of more.

A whistle of wind, so fast he wasn't even sure he heard it, sounded in his left ear. He planted his foot and turned to look, sure of what it may be but hoping against hope that it was a trick of the wind. That it was only a tired mind playing tricks on him. Surveying the tree line behind him, his leg quivered, unsure what to prepare for. Fight or flight? He didn't know. Ehcim still couldn't see any activity behind him and after a tense moment concluded his imagination had gotten the better of him. He spun around and stepped forward again. Another whistle of wind only this time it didn't die into nothingness. The air was rent by his scream and he fell forward into the snow. Spinning onto his side he looked down to see a small dart sticking from his thigh muscle. It was tiny, barely bigger than a June bug and it shook gleefully as his leg spasmed with fear. He reached down with trembling hand and snatched it from his leg. It felt like he had torn a chunk of skin away and screamed anew. It didn't matter now. He knew the Odign were within striking distance anyway. His screams weren't giving anything away. Ehcim took a closer look at the dart and could see a dab of orangish yellow liquid clinging to its tip. A leftover from the dose invading his system. He dabbed the drop from the dart with a finger and touched it to his tongue. A warm feeling at first and then that part of his tongue started to go numb, as if a section of it had disappeared altogether. He tried to scrape his tongue with his teeth but it had already dissolved and he spat as he cursed the dart and threw it away. At least he knew the Odign hadn't wanted to kill him. From the range they had hit him with this dart, they could as easily have slain him with arrows. Ehcim knew the dart was only to bring him down. They wanted to get him back to their homeland where they could question him more deeply into why and what he had been doing. Remembering why he was there lit a fire under him and he shoved his way back to standing. The leg the dart had been in was dead from the hip down. Not much longer and he wouldn't be able to move. With a guttural yell, he forced his way forward, mind overcoming matter. He tucked the branch beneath his arm and used his arms to physically lift his leg and move it forward, bellowing with each step as the poison crept out of the affected limb looking for more muscle to conquer. Teasing him, like a spider sitting in its web watching the death those and machinations of his next meal as it flailed about, expending its energy.

Ehcim risked a look behind him. He could see them now. Odign. Seeping from the tree line like a wave in a pond, rippling outward. They weren't running. Not even walking fast. If it were any other time, it would seem to an onlooker they were out for a walk in the snow. But Ehcim knew better. He knew he didn't have much time before the poison stole over his entire body. He turned and threw the branch as far as he could in a futile attempt to get it closer to his master, if only by several feet. Ehcim's leg buckled, completely numb and he fell sideways and rolled onto his back. His breathing coming in ragged gasps once again, this time out of fear. He reached out with his mind. Master, I am caught. It was all he could do as a cluster of faces appeared over him in the circle of his vision. There was pity in those eyes. Remorse. Somewhere it was there, buried beneath a blazing anger. Ehcim tried to lash out with his good leg only to find it too was numb too. Useless. He tried to sit up. Strike at them with a dagger, his fist. Anything. But everything below his ribcage had no feeling and didn't respond. He feebly tried to throw something but his arms were heavy and felt like he was trying to drag a bucket through water. He let his head slump back down, the cold of the snow on his skull the last thing he felt. The pitiful eyes watching him as his own eyes drifted shut as if he were taking an afternoon nap.

'I will find you.' Echoed in his mind and Ehcim smiled, or at least tried to. As his eyes were coming fully closed he could see the Odign sheath their weapons and step toward him. One tall one stayed back, a piece of branch in his hand, watching the proceedings as everything went dark.

Chapter 8

It was with grudging steps that Tagan followed Crenoah and Stonjsin. Under the cover of the descending darkness, he frowned to himself. What had happened? Their plan was all for naught. Braulor was gone. Maybe even dead, perhaps, but Tagan didn't want to believe that. Everything he had been through and seen convinced him otherwise. Braulor may not be in this world, but he was somewhere, and Tagan would search until the end of his days to find him if that's what it took.

And what of Rean Le? Perhaps it was Tagan's youth showing but he had been so sure that Rean Le would be on board to find the Amber Eye; he never even gave it a second thought. To him it was a done deal. They merely had to find Rean Le, present their case, and they would be off. The fact that she flat out refused to help them and then disappeared into the trees without a second look had hurt Tagan. More than the reality of their quest coming to a spectacular halt, it was much like a door slamming in his face. It took him a while to sort out why he had been so hurt but he could admit it now. Rean Le was so beautiful and alluring. He only had to picture her in his mind and his heart would skip a beat. Tagan had been so attracted to her, from the second he saw her all he could do was imagine what it would be like if they had travelled together and he had gotten to know her better. Now he would never have that chance.

Tagan stopped short, almost walking in to Crenoah as he had come to a stop. Tagan's vision, his oasis, disappeared in an instant and he was shunted back into a reality he didn't want to accept. He sighed as he bent under the branch that Stonjsin was holding up and stepped into the darkness of the trail beyond.

They walked with a slow gait, their heads pivoting back and forth, probing the trail in an attempt to draw clues from it. Wrest from it the flimsiest of affirmations they were on the right path. That they were going in the right direction. Tagan was squinting hard, as if the very act itself would squeeze more light out of the gloomy darkness and allow him to see. If only the trees could talk. They had seen everything that had happened. They knew who had come this way and which way they had continued on. But like observers from another planet they were bound to keep quiet. To not interfere with the goings on of mankind. As beautiful as they were, Tagan found their ominous silence frustrating.

They found their way back to where they had left the marker and on Stonjsin's urging, gave another cursory look around for any more evidence but there was none to be found in the dark. Even Stonjsin finally had to admit that whatever clues there were left to find, would have to wait until morning.

They found a comfortable clearing in which to lay out their bedrolls and promptly tucked into them. They enjoyed long moments of silence, each of them absorbed in their own assessment of events, broken intermittently by the hoot of an owl or creaking of branches as unseen animals scurried among and along them.

"Do you really think Drebos abandoned the clan, Stonjsin?" Crenoah was still having a tough time swallowing such a line of action. It's something he would never even entertain in his darkest moments.

"I don't like to think that he did, Crenoah." Stonjsin would also rather die than leave the clan. He had fought alongside Drebos. Had been there with him through many tough moments and not once did Stonjsin have the feeling that Drebos' heart was anywhere else. "I guess we will have to see what the morning brings. New light and new hope."

"I suppose your right." Crenoah sighed and the clearing fell silent again.

Rolled tightly in his blankets, his back to them, Tagan listened to their brief chat, and continued to listen as the clearing went silent. He didn't want to say it but he was beginning to understand how Drebos could leave them. He could empathize with Drebos' loss of his father and how that would put things into a different perspective. A loss such as that would redefine what you wanted out of life. Perhaps without his father, Drebos couldn't see any more point to the running. The drifting. The constant shifting of living areas and scenery. Perhaps without his father, a life with such freedom wouldn't be worth living and he would be happy to toil the rest of days living in the confines and rule of a city such as Brankin Huoh, or someplace else. Maybe he wanted to disappear altogether. Find his way to deep, dark part of the mountains and forest and ride his days out in solitude where he never had to share his feelings and love with anybody, wallowing in the bitterness of loss until death came to claim him. Tagan could understand because it's how he felt at this very moment. As the weariness of the day washed over him and pulled him to sleep, he sobbed quietly to himself, the pity of losing Braulor and Rean Le too much to contain any longer. Crenoah and Stonjsin's snores, ratcheting up as each of them fell deeper into slumber, took over the sounds of the night. After many stops and starts, Tagan drifted off as well.

Once more it was as if he was looking into a different world but this was not the world of Quanna Eresse. It was dark here, yet everything was visible somehow. Whatever light source there was, it was weak and dim as if shadow had found a way to illuminate. Tagan found himself standing on a precipice, high above a plain. It spread out before him, as far as the eye could see, rolling along into never. Possibly it met up with some mountain range far in the distance, but from here it was wide open. Along the plain were pockets of activity. Each seemed unrelated to the other but somehow there was a connectedness, like everything was tied together in a way that he couldn't see. He took a step forward and fell. He flailed with his arms, his heart pounding in alarm but it wasn't necessary. Tagan drifted like a leaf and touched down easily on the ground below him. It felt squishy and alive. Sentient in a sinister way. He had only taken a few steps when it appeared in front of him, like a dream. It was Braulor. His heart swelled with hope and anticipation. He called out "Braulor." But Braulor didn't respond. Braulor was sitting on the edge of a bed, looking about. The look of bewilderment on his face matched Tagan's exactly. It was an odd picture playing out. Tagan could see Braulor sitting on the bed but there appeared to be a tent around him. But Tagan could see through the tent as if were only a thin veil. He could see the other pieces of furniture dotting the scene. It was like he had x-ray vision or something.

"Braulor." Tagan called again, this time with as much force as he could muster. Braulor still didn't respond and Tagan decided to run to him. To help him. But no matter how much he ran, Tagan didn't move, didn't draw any closer. Braulor grew no closer. Tagan was confined to only being able to watch. And he watched as Braulor scooted off the bed, falling to his knees in front of a large chest. As Braulor threw open the trunk, Tagan could see the light flaring from inside it. Then Tagan couldn't breathe. He fell to his own knees fighting for air and then everything vanished.

Tagan's eyes flew open. He was in the little clearing once more. Dawn had scarcely broken, the trees still shrouded in shadow and a hand was clamped over his mouth. Tagan tried to move, tried to wrestle the hand off but it was futile.

"Lay still." A throaty voice commanded and redoubled the grip on Tagan's mouth, slapping a hand to the back of his head for good measure. It felt like it was going to crush his jaw but he obeyed and went still. Casting around with eyes he was able to see Crenoah and Stonjsin already hogtied and gagged, not far away. From the look of surprise on their faces, they had been sleeping as well when they were caught.

Their captors weren't looking through their stuff like bandits would. They were rolling everything into the sheets and carrying it away. The insignias on their armor gave them away as official but belonging to whom, Tagan wondered. Then he was flipped over onto his own stomach and tied in the same way as Crenoah and Stonjsin, a dirty gag shoved in his mouth and bound tightly behind his head. Tagan didn't even try to resist. He knew it was useless. He tried in vain to capture the thread of the dream he was having, but it was gone. Washed away with the coming of dawn. He let his face fall into the dirt and stayed that way.

Chapter 9

"Sequil." Kenok was shaking all over, the adrenaline surge from attacking Tyhreb was fading but his heart was still thumping wildly into his ribs as if it were a wild animal trying to break out of its pen. He took another breath. "Sequil." he shouted.

Sequil's heart was also pounding, like she had sprinted full tilt for a mile but unlike Kenok, she was also paralysed with fright. The beast of a man Kenok had attacked was slumped across her legs, unconscious. She looked to Kenok. "Who is this, Kenok? What is going on?" Sequil dropped the container she had used to deliver the lamp oil, the smashing of glass making them both jump.

Kenok didn't answer. He had no answer to give. He didn't know who this man was and why he had made his way into his home as stealthy as a ninja. It was obvious the man was no simple thief. If that had been the case, he would have grabbed what he wanted from the main living area and been gone. No, this man had a purpose. A mission. A reason to sneak into his and Sequil's bedroom in the dead of night, casing and sizing everything up with eye of a seasoned mercenary. Taking in every detail like a machine, tabulating, collating and reassessing. Kenok had watched the man enter the room from his hiding spot in the coat rack. A needle in the haystack of as many coats and sweaters as they could hang on it without if falling over, as Sequil lay under their bed covers, terrified, quivering. He had to resist the urge to attack the man straight away with every fibre of being he possessed. He had assured Sequil she would be ok. That he would be no more than ten feet away and would let nothing happen to her. She only had to throw the lamp oil on the man and her part would be over with. He had drilled it into her, practising as much as they could with the limited time available to them. That Sequil had managed to get the oil in the man's face as he had hoped was as much luck as anything else. Kenok was amazed that Sequil had even been able to pull it off. She had been so frightened when he told her that someone was coming for them. Coming to do them harm? "How do you know such things, Kenok?"

Kenok didn't know himself. He had been tending the fields and was finishing up for the day when it happened. A sharp, baleful howl echoed in the air, snuffed out as sharply as it had begun. A picture flashed into Kenok's mind of man, putting an end to the unlucky animal. Was it a wolf? A coyote? It didn't matter. In his vision the man looked around as the animal passed, a glint in his eye revealing evil intent and sending goose bumps straight to Kenok's heart, like it had been pierced with an icicle. A cold chill pronouncing this man was looking for him. He tried to shake it off and get back to work. Tried to shrug it off as nonsensical, a conjuring crafted by a tired mind, but even as he continued his task he found he couldn't stop looking to the mountains where the howl had come from and every time he did, Kenok became acutely aware of how dark it was becoming. He had been so wrapped up in his work he didn't pay attention to the time and now he was on autopilot, putting his tools and such away but Kenok realized when it was dark enough, this man was coming for him. He didn't question how he knew. He only knew it to be true. As true as the love he felt for Sequil. He thought about making a break for it. Gather up Sequil and whatever they could carry, take the horse and run but with the daylight almost gone he wasn't so sure he would have time to make a getaway. He dropped his tool right there and returned to the house. As he went, Kenok was already forming the plans for defence.

He and Sequil had readied the horse anyway. Kenok wanted to be prepared for all eventualities. Then they set about the elaborate ruse they had managed to pull off with precision, as if it were something they had been practising it for months. Now they had to figure out their next move.

"Get up, Sequil."

"I can't. I'm stuck under this man." Sequil squirmed and wriggled but it was no good. The man weighed too much. She was fighting hard to keep the panic she was feeling at bay. "Kenok, help me." she shrieked.

Kenok snapped out of his trance, the last traces of adrenaline clearing from his mind, allowing him to think straight. He tossed the fire poker aside and it clattered across the floor to his right. He stepped around the bed to Sequil's side and after sweeping the broken glass under the bed with his foot, heaved on the man's shoulder, wrenching on his armour, attempting to pull him away from Sequil. It took all his strength but he managed to get the man rolled enough so Sequil could scoot out and she stood beside him on the floor, staring down at the man. He was grotesque to her. All muscle and scars and menace. She turned away and looked to Kenok. "Now what?"

"Get your cloak and riding clothes on and bring the horse around."

Sequil walked around Kenok, toward the door, stopping at its threshold. "What about him?"

Kenok hadn't thought that far ahead. In his haste to get their defence arranged he had not stopped to think about what he would do if he actually was successful. He sighed. "I'll deal with him. You go, get the horse. I'll be right there."

Sequil looked at him, her eyes full of sorrow and pity. Not because this man had come to harm them. It was because she understood what Kenok meant. She knew that he was going to have to do something horrible. Something he didn't want to do. Something no man should have to do. She could only hope it wouldn't change Kenok into someone she didn't recognize.

Kenok waited for Sequil to leave the house altogether before he set to work, listening to her delicate gait as she padded across the living room floor and out the front door. He then turned to the unconscious form on his bed. The man, if Kenok could call him that, was gruesome. And that was being generous. There were numerous scars and welts on the patches of skin that were visible. The parts not covered with light armour or patches of thick hair. He looked to Kenok like someone who had been through many battles. And judging from his size, he had been victorious more often than not. The man was massive compared to himself, at least a foot and half, maybe two, taller than he. Kenok could see muscle bound calves and thighs. His hands were probably twice the size of Kenok's; his chest looked like it was built around a wine cask. A large head rested on such a short neck it looked as if the man were constantly shrugging. Kenok was amazed that he had been able to subdue him and he didn't see any evidence of his attack to the man's skull. With the savagery Kenok had attacked the man with, there should have been something. A lump? Blood? The skull misshapen perhaps. But there was nothing obvious.

Kenok could see the pommel of a sword sticking out of a sheath strapped to the man's leg and grabbed it. The handle was thicker than he was accustomed to and he could barely close his hand around it. Using both hands to pull it free from its scabbard, Kenok removed it as gently as he could. The man seemed to be completely out but Kenok didn't want to do anything that would wake him. The sword was heavy to Kenok, the tip dipping to the floor of the room, making a dull clunk as it came to rest. Flexing his arms, he found the strength to wield it and raised to eye level. It was cruel and menacing. He took a deep breath, his stomach already roiling in revulsion at what he was about to do. Killing an unconscious man, any man in any condition for that matter, had never even crossed the horizon of something he would have to do. Yet here he was sword in trembling hand as he summoned the will to do it. Kenok could leave. Turn tail and run as fast as his horse would carry him. The man was unconscious and most likely would be for a while. Kenok and Sequil could be leagues away, in any direction by the time he came to. He knew that was an option. But he also knew it was an option he couldn't take. He knew deep down, maybe from the same place the vision had come to him, this man wouldn't stop hunting for him. This man wouldn't leave it be and chalk Kenok's escape up to luck and leave it at that. Many men would leave, give up, but Kenok could sense this man would keep hunting him until he had his prize. But why was the man hunting him? It dawned on Kenok that he didn't know this man at all. But the man knew him and was here to. To. To what? Kill him? No, the man came in armed but his weapons were not drawn. If killing was on his mind, he would have come in and started swinging. This man was here to take him. But why, and on whose orders?

A glimpse of rope from the man's pocked changed Kenok's mind in a hurry and he tossed the sword aside. Not that his mind wasn't easily swayed. In a way, he was looking for a way out of killing him. Kenok wanted answers and if he killed this man, then what? He would have no answers and would have to run anyway. Whoever sent this man wanted Kenok bad enough to use a hired gun to track him down. If Kenok did kill this assassin, more would be sent and next time he might not be lucky enough to subdue his attacker or attackers. Kenok took the rope from the man's pocket and tested it with a few tugs between his hands. The rope was good and strong and Kenok left the man lying across the bed and went about tying the man's feet together, winding the rope as tight as he could around the man's legs, right above the boots. He then drew the rope up repeated the same process around the man's massive wrists so his limbs were all tied together.

"What are you doing, Kenok? We need to go. I have the horse ready." Sequil's soft voice was ragged and strained. The screams from the earlier encounter having taken their toll.

Kenok started a little at the interruption but finished what he was doing without looking at her. "We need to get answers from him, Sequil."

"Why do we need answers? He came here to do us harm. You said so yourself. We need to get out of here before he wakes up and finishes the job." Sequil was eyeing the rope. Kenok was good with rope and knots but looking at the size of the man tied up, Sequil wasn't so sure the rope would contain his strength. The man looked as if he could rip the rope in half with a mere flex of his muscles.

"I think I was wrong. Look at him." Kenok gestured to the bound mass lying across the bed. "He's huge. If he were here to kill us, we wouldn't be having this discussion right now. Preparations or not, he would have stormed in here and slaughtered us without even breaking a sweat."

Sequil gulped at the thought but decided Kenok was right and she nodded in affirmation. "But now what? You're going to question him?"

"Yes. I may still have to kill him, but for now, I want some answers." Kenok looked to the man once again. The man still looked completely out and Kenok leaned in for a closer look.

The man's body convulsed as his eyes flew open and his head turned to Kenok.

Sequil screamed. A long, loud and painful shriek making Kenok's skin crawl.

A guttural growl escaped Tyhreb's lopsided mouth and he made to grab Kenok but was stymied by the rope binding his arms and legs. He reached once again but the ropes held fast. Tyhreb was confused, the effects of being hammered over the head leaving him unable to think clearly. He cast his eyes down and could see his hands were bound to his legs. Rage superseded logic and he struggled against the rope. Pulling, twisting, wrenching, but the knots held fast.

"Who are you?" Kenok stepped back as he bellowed at the man. Watching the man's powerful body contorts against the rope, he wasn't so sure they were going to hold either. "Who sent you here?" he yelled even louder above the man's snorts and snarls.

Tyhreb turned his head to Kenok and roared back at him. It was loud and bestial, echoing off of the walls of the room like some sort of savage amplifier.

Kenok stared at the man, almost thrown back by the force of his voice alone. The full force of his decision not to slay the man when he had him at his mercy, hit home. Like a projectile hurled from a trebuchet, it slammed into Kenok, almost buckling him at the knee. A sense of dread descended on him like a swarm, like a smell that permeated his every sense. Time slowed to a crawl. Kenok watched Tyhreb thrashing at the ropes like some sort of wild animal, his face red and contorted in wretched faces as he flailed. At that moment, Kenok was certain he was going to die. Right here in his own house. It was a futile feeling. Hopeless. But he couldn't feel any other way. Tyhreb was so strong; it was only a matter of time before he broke the ropes and snapped Kenok's neck.

"Kenok." Sequil was bracing herself in the doorway, holding both sides of the frame as if she were the only thing keeping it from falling apart, her voice reduced to a whisper from her screams. The same feeling was upon her but she was still fighting. Still doing anything she could to not give in to it. They could still make an escape, if only Kenok would respond.

Sequil's voice was the tonic Kenok needed. Her sweet voice swept into his senses with the verve of a spring day, revitalizing him, drawing him back to the moment. As if a shaft of sunlight swept in and chased the shadows back, Kenok's flagging hope flared to life. He looked to Sequil; her form in the door frame reminded him of a picture. A picture of the strength he was having trouble finding at the moment. He looked back to Tyhreb.

Tyhreb had stopped thrashing, his round chest pumping up and down as he sucked in giant lungsful of the air his exhausted muscles were screaming for. He took a moment to calm his racing thoughts. Soothe them. Find a comfortable zone for them while he worked on a solution to his predicament. He had been in worse situations. He would get out of this one. He wondered briefly why Kenok hadn't killed him or escaped while he was unconscious. Both were better options than what he had done. But that wasn't Tyhreb's concern. He needed to get out of these ropes. He lifted his hands to assess the ropes binding them and as his eyes drifted downward he spotted it, good fortune smiling on him once again. He jerked his hands and legs up as one and grabbed it.

As if it were the only thing in the room Kenok spotted it at the same time as Tyhreb. A knife, hanging pommel down from its sheath on Tyhreb's chest. Before he could even process another thought, Tyhreb reached up and grabbed it.

Kenok didn't even think, he reacted, and jumped onto Tyhreb, trying to wrestle the knife from him.

Tyhreb desperately wanted to hang on to both the knife and Kenok but knew he had to give up one, for now, to keep the other. With a mighty shove, he threw Kenok off and Kenok sailed away from him like discarded garbage before slamming hard into the wall. Tyhreb didn't even watch to see what happened. He immediately began slashing at the ropes with the knife.

Kenok sat up, his head spinning and put his hands down for support. One fell upon something cold and metal. The sword he had discarded earlier. He found the handle and jumped up, adrenaline flowing anew, allowing him to wield the sword with more conviction this time. With a yell, he ran toward Tyhreb brandishing the sword high overhead.

Tyhreb stopped his sawing of the ropes and pulled his legs up in an attempt to stop the onrushing man and kicked them hard into Kenok's chest.

Kenok buckled around Tyhreb's feet like a blacksmith bending metal, the air rushing from his lungs in hoofing gasp. The sudden stop only applied to his body. His arms kept going forward with the same speed and the sword swung down as his arms reached the end of range.

Tyhreb could only watch as his own sword drifted toward him in a slow arc, like a pendulum completing part of its path, it was coming right for him. Instinctively he swung his hand up to protect himself and twisted to his right. The sword was so sharp it sliced through the rope connecting his feet to his hands. Tyhreb felt the pressure release and immediately kicked his legs out hard again, slamming them into an already dazed Kenok. Tyhreb continued his twist and was almost all the way off the bed when he felt the bite. The blade had been slowed by the rope and further more by his leather but he could still feel the pinching slice as it lodged into his side. The momentum of his twist carried him off the bed and he landed hard on the floor, his knife coming within inches of stabbing into his neck. Spinning, he could see the sword, standing perpendicular to his body, his flesh and armour holding it in place.

Kenok was on his knees once again but he knew his chance had come. His window of opportunity was here and jumped into it. "Run, Sequil." He hollered as he pushed himself to his feet.

Sequil turned and ran. She didn't know what else to do and her every sense was already screaming it out anyway. If she hadn't feared for her husband, she would have been long gone by now.

Kenok saw Sequil disappear into the room beyond and was running behind her as fast as his wobbly legs would go. He reached the doorway as a random thought strayed into his head. He longed to look back. Look back and see the situation. Try and assess how much escape time they had but he didn't want to stop. He chanced a quick look over his shoulder and saw Tyhreb's arm snapping out in his direction. He staggered. A flash of pain shot through his abdomen. Still he kept running. Across the room and out the door. There was Sequil, the horse ready, their small wagon attached.

Sequil was so happy to see her husband, her hands twitched on the reins but something was wrong. She couldn't see it as much as sense it. He wasn't running right. His feet were almost stumbling around. But he made it to her and heaved himself onto the horse behind her and grabbed around her waist. Sequil didn't wait for any commands or instructions and snapped the reins repeatedly, urging the horse into a run. As they rolled away she looked back and saw the beastly man emerge from the doorway, rope still dangling from his hands.

Chapter 10

Clhla Luth stood up straight from the basin, breaking visual contact with it as he did so, his hands still clenched to its sides. His jaw was clenched forcing his exhale to sound more like a low hiss than the mere sigh it started as. Clhla Luth wasn't angry with Ehcim. In fact, as much as he had hoped to avoid it, Clhla Luth had been expecting this little eventuality. One simply didn't walk into somewhere and lop off branches from the Lefirte and expect to walk away like a ghost. He had to give Ehcim credit if he were being really honest. Ehcim had actually procured the piece of the tree he required for the ritual, which was almost unbelievable. But now Ehcim was captured, the branch back in the possession of the Odign. He wondered for a moment if they would be able to reattach it to the Lefirte. To the best of Clhla Luth's knowledge, the Lefirte had never been assaulted in such a manner. He couldn't remember anything even remotely similar to this having happened before. It was new territory for everybody involved. It wasn't even Ehcim being caught he found bothersome. It was because Clhla Luth hadn't wanted to reveal himself quite yet. He wasn't ready to step out of the shadows he found so comforting. Further down the road would have been a more opportune time but perhaps he had been hiding to long; sitting on his hands when he should have been out getting them dirty for his own cause. Sometimes the universe had other plans and it would unleash them when it was ready, which might not be the timing you had hoped for, and all you could do was pick up pieces and find your way as best you could.

"Clhla Luth."

Clhla Luth's eyes opened wide and he took a deep breath. He leaned over the basin anew. The liquid inside which had previously housed Ehcim's form was pitch black. Black as night. Black as soot. As if he was looking onto a stage with curtains drawn and house lights out. But there was sentience to the blackness as if it was alive or something was alive in its depths. Clhla Luth didn't know what and he wasn't concerned. All he knew was the blackness had delivered him power. Teasing power. Only enough to whet his appetite, but power none the less. A way to divinate the future and control it for his ends. He had always wanted power and control. Two idioms shunned by his people but he wanted it. How could a world thrive without control? His home land was a perfect example. People wasting countless hours on art and music that was useless. People spent a lifetime chasing the perfect painting or the most beautiful music. Where was the value in that? It was so ethereal and elusive. Belonging to everyone, yet no one. Clhla Luth wanted something he could hold in his hand. Something tangible he could see and touch. Something he could have faith and trust in that it was always there when he wanted to wield it. And the more tangible power he could gather would elicit the control he so desired to have over other people.

"Yes, Masters."

"How are our plans coming together?"

"My lords," Clhla Luth bowed his head over the basin. Though he was alone, he knew they could see his actions and movements. Even when he wasn't using the basin they seemed to have an uncanny knowing of what was going on in his world, and more so, what it was that he was up to. He wasn't surprised by it any more, however, even growing accustomed to it so much so that he was always on form. Always ready to heed the call to do their work. It had been that way since he first encountered them. It had been quite by accident, back when he was an Odign. "My Lords, we have hit a small snag." Clhla Luth winced as he said it as if he were a dog expecting to be disciplined for disobeying its master.

An ominous silence filled the room, emanating from the basin like a foul stench consuming everything pleasant in its path. The silence hung in the air like fog that wouldn't dissipate before finally, "We don't think your servant being captured is a small snag, Clhla Luth."

"My lords, it is only a temporary setback." Clhla Luth held his breath. His masters on the other side of the basin were temperamental. He was never sure how they were going to react to the news he gave them. They couldn't physically harm him but they could withdraw their help. Without which, Clhla Luth's evil hopes and dreams would never grow to fruition.

After a prolonged silence. "Temporary?"

Clhla Luth was relieved they were allowing him to expand on his thought. He had worked so hard on his plan and he was terrified they would abandon him altogether and find some other inhabitant of Quanna Eresse to assist them. He couldn't have that. Clhla Luth had been promised power and riches beyond anything he could ever imagine and then some in exchange for his help. He wasn't going to give it up without a fight. "Yes, my lords, temporary. I knew there was a possibility Ehcim was going to be captured and have been prepared for it."

"How are you going to correct this setback, Clhla Luth? Our window of opportunity is fast approaching. If you don't have everything in place and ready to perform the ritual at the precise time." Another pause, the silence even more terrible and threatening than the last. "There won't be another configuration so benevolent to our desires. Have we not made this clear?"

"Yes, Yes. Perfectly clear." Clhla Luth closed his eyes and nodded to the basin, like a teenager being admonished for not taking out the garbage. The movements of the skies and stars it contained were closely watched by the Draepkos. They had been teaching him their ways for months. It was all so confusing but he was starting to understand it more. Starting to connect the dots. It helped when events took place as divinated by the Draepkos, at the times they were supposed to. It piqued his interest and kept him thirsting for more. More would come when they performed the ritual allowing them to enter his world. It was the best way for them to continue the tutoring and they could help him assert this power over Quanna Eresse.

"Then we don't need to remind you of the urgency you should be placing on retrieving the branch. Everything else is for naught without it. We will still be here at the next opportune alignment but you will not."

The force of life housed in the basin vanished without any visible trace. It was always eerie to Clhla Luth when his communication with the Draepkos ended. When he had first discovered them and was still green in the ways of their dealings, he would stand at the basin for many long minutes waiting for another communication. Another directive. Back then they were only able to have the briefest of exchanges; such was the weak state of his power.

Clhla Luth stood from the basin. He knew there would be no more communications on this day with the Draepkos. He made his way out of the basin room, making sure to lock the door behind him. He turned and walked toward his room, thoughts weighing heavy on his mind. Thinking of his first encounter with the Draepkos had awoken a surge of memories from when he lived among the Ameuralian's. His people. Clhla Luth recalled his childhood. It was no different from any of his friends. They were allowed the run of the land. From the time he had been old enough to walk, he could remember running free among the woods, the hills, the mountains. There was never any worry of his safety. He and his people lived off the land, sustained by it and they nourished the land in return. It was a symbiosis that had been enjoyed for ages long forgotten. Everything changed when They came. Those horrid man beasts. They swarmed from the deepest depths of the mountains, attacking and rampaging across Quanna Eresse like kids in a candy store. As the Ameuralian's were a peaceful race they had little need for weapons, only needing spears and bows for the hunting of game. They were ill prepared for the onslaught that ensued.

It was a fast and furious lesson but the beast men came and went, disappearing from history almost as fast as they had appeared. They were never seen again but their rampage had been enough and the Ameuralians began to train in the event of another attack. Building weapons of steel and infusing them with the life-force of the Lefirte. It was there, as a child of Ameuralia, where the seeds of who Clhla Luth would become were planted. His outlook changed from that point forward. Clhla Luth developed a dark side. The side that craved power and lusted for control of others. He had found this cave and the basin and began the slow process of reaching out to the darkness in the world. He knew it existed. He had seen it with his own eyes. Friends and family alike, killed by the beast men he associated with the darkness. It started as a way for him to try to contact them. Seek them out and avenge himself upon them for his people but as his eyes opened wider and his mind ran wild with the possibilities, it consumed him. He had to fake his own death among his people to be able to get away and follow his dark studies wherever they were going to take him. Now he was heading home. He would have to reveal himself to them to get Ehcim and the branch out, but he supposed he would have had to sooner or later anyway. Best to get it over with now.

Once in his room he removed the robe he used for the basin ceremonies and laid it gently on his bed. He looked at it with the same eyes a mother reserves for children she has birthed. In a way, he had birthed the robe. A manifestation from the dark recesses of thought he was pursuing. Hand stitched, he laboured over the robe for months, sewing, basting and piecing it together like a master sculptor would chisel his work from stone. Every thread, every bead, every pattern was thought out and first drawn out to make certain it was what his mind's eye saw before Clhla Luth would think about putting needle to fabric. When he first donned the robe, Clhla Luth was amazed at how well the robe had come together. How when he put it on he could feel the change in energy he desired. It was like throwing a dark veil over a bright light, leaving him in the shadowy dark he loved so much. He traced a finger down its length before turning away.

Clhla Luth donned a regular shirt, green tunic and leggings. It was the garb of his kin and he sighed as he looked at himself. He didn't miss these clothes. They were a hard reminder of all he was leaving behind. But, it would be easier for him to get into their lands unchecked if he were dressed like them. Plus, he didn't want to take the chance of his robe getting ruined. It was his only one. Something he made a mental note he would have to remedy later.

Clhla Luth made his way from his private quarters, through the maze of corridors and passages that networked his lair. He was heading out to the courtyard that lay behind his sanctuary. It was here a large bird, large enough it should be able to carry him and Ehcim, was tethered. Opening the door to the courtyard, Clhla Luth stood looking at the bird, if you could call it that. It was a creation of his own engineering, with a heavy reliance on the Draepkos' esoteric knowledge of course. Standing stock still in the corner of the open courtyard, it didn't budge an iota as Clhla Luth approached. Blinkers covered its opalescent eyes so Clhla Luth couldn't tell if it was sleeping or not at the moment. It didn't matter really. It had a keen sense of smell and Clhla Luth was sure it was aware of his presence. He strode to the bird, stopping at its head, and extended a hand, placing it gingerly on its strong jawbone. Enthralled, he walked its length, feeling it's leathery, scaly feathers drift under his fingertips. So powerful. So terrible. As an envisioning of how the Draepkos described their preferred means of transport, he wondered if he did it justice. Of course, he could only use the ingredients he had access to here and cobble them together under the Draepkos' direction with a tricky spell. It was Clhla Luth's first attempt at manipulating such a large amount of physical matter. He had done small experiments with some success but nothing on this scale. It wasn't perfect but Clhla Luth admired his handiwork. He climbed astride the bird and removed the blinders. It turned its head to Clhla Luth, cocking an eye as it did so, waiting for direction. Clhla Luth engaged it's stare as he locked minds with it. As you are new to this world, we need to give you a name. You are Mnaiowk. Clhla Luth took the blink of the lone eye he could see as acceptance of the designation. Fly. The Mnaiowk took off at once and Clhla Luth held on until it reached altitude and levelled off, using the crude rigging he had fashioned from a horse bridle to steer it toward Ameuralia.

Chapter 11

Tagan struggled momentarily against his bindings. Not in a manner of escape, he knew escape would be impossible with how tight the cords were wrapped about his wrists and ankles. Tagan only wanted relief from the numbness. It had already claimed his hands and his feet were almost to the point of losing feeling as well. He shifted and rolled onto his side at a slight angle. It took a little of the pressure off his limbs and he was grateful for the small bit of feeling creeping back into his fingers, although they burned like they were full of angry bees. He couldn't do anything about the gag in his mouth but he forced it as far away from the back of his throat as best he could. Feeling a little better, Tagan took a look around. Of their captors, there was only one sentry still in the area. He stood stoic and firm, jaw set, shield and weapon at the ready. Tagan noted the sentry's body language and decided it best to not draw his attention and stopped the fidgeting he was using to maintain his precarious balance, rolling once more onto his belly. As he did, he managed to get his knees wedged into the dirt, and made his position somewhat easier to tolerate.

Tagan craned his neck to one side and he could see Crenoah close to him, tied in the same manner as himself. Crenoah's eyes were bugged out and beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead. Beyond Crenoah, Tagan could make out a tiny sliver of Stonjsin's form. The visible parts of Stonjsin were undulating and contorting and Tagan could tell he was trying to break the bonds holding him. The sound of stomping boots made Tagan turn his head back to neutral, eyes downward looking closer at the earth than he cared to. The stomping boots stopped at the sentry.

"Any trouble with these three?" The voice was commanding and powerful.

"No sir, no trouble at all."

The sentry's voice was squeaky and high. Tagan wondered how old the sentry was. From the sound of his voice, he was not much older than himself.

"Good. Good. All their gear is loaded. Gather them up and get them back to the carriage."

More boots walked away, back from where they came but a number were now marching toward Tagan, Crenoah and Stonjsin. Grunts and groans broke out beside him, ending with harsh thuds. Tagan could picture Crenoah and Stonjsin resisting despite the beating but Tagan didn't even think about trying to mount some sort of attack. It was futile in his mind. Save his energy for another time. He felt the rope on his legs tighten and release. His legs flumped to the ground like jelly dropped from on high.

"Time to get up, you."

Rough hands grabbed his arms and hoisted him to his feet. Tagan immediately fell and the hands grabbed him once again, this time holding him in place. Tagan could see Stonjsin wasn't getting the same treatment and was still hogtied. Crenoah was on his feet but there was a bloody gash on his forehead, oozing among the caked-on dirt.

"Walk."

The sentry closest to Crenoah gave him a shove and Crenoah stumbled forward but didn't fall. Without the use of his hands he walked with care and precision, even with two enraged sentries breathing down his neck.

A sentry appeared, running up the trail to join them, carrying a long, stout pole. Tagan wondered for a moment if this was it. If they were going to get beaten right here and now, but the sentry gave the pole to the two men nearest Stonjsin. With little care or concern, they rammed it between Stonjsin's bound legs and hands. Crouching beneath each end, the rear sentry counted to three and they hoisted Stonjsin off the ground and marched away. Stonjsin was grimacing from the pressure and strain as he swung underneath the pole like a piñata at a child's birthday party. Stonjsin's chest and stomach were scraped along the ground as it rose and fell beneath the sentry's feet. Stonjsin tried to keep his face from doing the same but wasn't having an easy go of it.

"Let's go." Tagan obeyed the voice and fell in step behind one sentry but was relieved to hear the same squeaky voice he had heard earlier, behind him. It didn't improve his situation any but Tagan had a feeling this sentry wasn't as harsh as the others were.

They wound along the little path back to the main trail and turned away from the burial site. Tagan craned his head around, trying to get a look at the spot he last saw Braulor, and his heart raced like a flare in the night. He wasn't sure but he could have sworn he saw someone moving among the trees. His eyes bugged out and he wanted to run back there and investigate. He turned his head forward again, not wanting to give anything away to his captors. Besides, it was probably on a trick of the light and wishful thinking.

Their forced march stopped for no reason. If they fell, they were yanked up and shoved ahead. Tagan was wondering how Stonjsin was holding up. Stonjsin had abandoned trying to keep himself from scraping along the ground and was hanging from the pole like fresh kill. It was hard to tell if he was even breathing. Tagan could only see the back of Crenoah's head but to his credit, Crenoah didn't try anything. He plodded along quietly like the rest of them.

The path levelled out and they came to a convoy of horses and carriages with perhaps fifteen or so men gathered. They all wore the same official badge Tagan had noticed earlier but he didn't know who it belonged to so it wasn't much help. As they approached, a number of men hurried over to help with the prisoners. They were marched right up to the nearest carriage where Tagan and Crenoah were forced to their knees. No one told them as much but they both knew there was an armed man behind each of them. Stonjsin was dropped to unceremoniously to the ground and the long, loud groan he let out was welcome to Tagan's ears. At least he knew Stonjsin was alive. Tagan lowered his head and tried to relax. He could hear the same powerful voice from earlier, quick and to the point.

"What did you find up there?"

"Not much to report captain. It looks like some sort of fight went on. We found a few burial mounds and a pile of discarded items but that was all."

"Did you recognize any of the gear?"

"Had the same emblems as the one inside."

Tagan snapped his head up in time to see a skinny sentry point with his head to the second carriage. He craned his head, hoping for a better look but could see nothing more.

"The same emblem, eh. It's obvious they're from Brankin Huoh."

"It's strange captain. Brankin Huoh is many days' ride from here. And why come from this direction? The main road is easier and more direct."

"That it is. No telling how they came to be here and why but I wonder." The captain paused, squinting off in the direction they had come as if he were to scrutinize hard enough he would be able to see into the past and find what he was looking for. "In any event, we should have been told if they were going to be in the area. No sign of her then?"

Tagan's eyes flared open and his heart skipped a beat. They had to be talking about Rean Le. What other she could be out in this wooded area? How was she known to these men? Did she turn them in? A storm of questions without answer came to life in Tagan's head.

"Get the tied one in this carriage." The captain pointed to the carriage nearest Tagan. "And the other two can go on those horses we found."

"Yes sir." The skinny sentry turned on his heel and came toward Tagan. Tagan lowered his head. It was still swimming with what ifs. He turned to Crenoah, who only nodded. Tagan didn't know if that meant Crenoah had heard everything he did but he assumed it did. The captain wasn't trying to make it a secret. Tagan was pulled to his feet once more and marched past the carriages. As he passed the second one, he tried to get a look at who was inside but the curtains were drawn and the door closed so it was futile. If his hunch was correct, then the carriage possibly housed the guy from Brankin Huoh. That idea only added more voices to the choir of confusion that was singing loud and clear in his head.

They stopped near a train of five horses at the very rear of the vanguard. Each horse was regally dressed in the colours of Brankin Huoh and they stood nervously chomping their bits, peering around balefully as if they too felt like they were captive. The young sentry held out a stirrup and Tagan put his foot in and with a shove on his backside for assistance, was able to get his other leg over the horse and find the other stirrup. It was an uncomfortable few moments as he fought to maintain his balance but managed. He looked to the others and winced as he watched Crenoah fall from his steed, landing with a dull thud. Several sentries hurried to his side and hoisted him back onto the horse. Crenoah slumped over the horn of the saddle, resting his head on the horse's long neck as he breathed heavily.

Tagan looked back in time to see them cut the ropes binding Stonjsin's feet and roll him over on his back. It was a gruesome visage. Stonjsin's face a mix of dirt, blood and sweat. His mouth lolled open as much as it could around his gag, trying to suck in breaths and he groaned every time he so much as moved his head. Stonjsin looked beaten and broken but he put up a little resistance as he was hoisted onto his feet, trying to swing a feeble kick in the direction of the closest sentry. It didn't help his balance any and his legs dragged as a sentry went on either side of him to prevent him from falling, marching him to the carriage he was to be loaded in. A third had gone ahead and opened the door, the other two marched, pulling and dragging the limp Stonjsin into the carriage and leaving him there. Tagan tried to get a look in the carriage but with so many bodies in the way, he could see nothing. The sentries marched smartly out, picked the stairs up and loaded them into the carriage as well and latched the door shut.

The captain was nowhere to be seen but the men were rushing about, gathering stray items and packing up supplies, lading them onto horses or carriages or in rucksacks. A group of men fell in line behind the horses Tagan and Crenoah were on and from somewhere ahead a cry came, every letter enunciated for maximum effect. "Move out." In slow stages, groups of men and horses pulled ahead and fell in line, carriages creaking as they came to life. Tagan almost fell off his horse as it started walking but he squeezed his legs tight and leaned forward a bit until he could find his centre of balance again. He fell in sync with his steed, bobbing and moving in tune with its stride. It was almost comforting, reminding him of home and his trips with Kenok.

A streak of green caught his eye. It was so quick he almost missed it but he was sure it was there to his right, skirting and flitting along the tree line. He tried to spy what it was but it was moving so fast. He knew it wasn't an animal. As their procession rounded a bend in the road he caught a glimpse of blond hair as a face appeared beside the trunk of a tree. A sliver of a face, like a young moon, with a single wispy lock of hair swinging out from beside the ear. The face disappeared again so fast it was almost if it had spotted him watching and thought if it moved fast enough it would be like it was never there in the first place. But that glimpse was all he needed. Rean Le's face was unmistakable.

Chapter 12

Tagan sat bolt upright in his saddle, forgetting for the moment he was clenching his legs around the barrel ribs of the horse he was riding. He remembered at the last moment, flexing his legs and squeezing every muscle in his body in an attempt to stop his backward momentum but it was too late. Tagan's legs flipped up and he rolled back onto the hind quarters of his ride. He stopped there for a moment, as if someone watching the scene unfold had hit pause. His eyes rolled back and caught a glimpse of Crenoah, whose bugging eyes were wide with astonishment. In a breath, Tagan's horse took another step, throwing off his balance. Tagan had run out of options. There was nothing to stop as him as he toppled off his horses back. Instinct took over but he realized a nano-second later his bound hands weren't going to be available to break his fall. He stiffened and tried to twist his body around so his shoulder would take the brunt of his fall. Not the best decision he realized as it came to fruition with crunching reality, pain ripping through his shoulder and across his neck and back. He tried to scream out but the gag in his mouth absorbed his painful shrieks. As he writhed on the ground he was unaware of the chaos unfolding around him. Tagan's fall set off a chain reaction. Crenoah's horse was spooked and bucked and bucked until Crenoah had also been sent tumbling. He took the fall much better than Tagan though and rolled sideways off his horse and continued the roll ending up in a sitting position. The men that had been marching behind them were confused. No one knew what was happening or what to do. Some took up defensive positions thinking that they were under attack. Others came to their senses and surrounded the fallen prisoners while the horses were tamed.

It took a while for the front of the vanguard to realize what had happened and come to a stop, leaving a large gap in between the front and rear flanks. The scene continued in this fashion until the captain of the squad came running up, several junior officers in tow. The captain stopped in front of Tagan and screamed and hollered until his face was deep shade of crimson in an attempt to restore order. It worked though. Everybody had come to a stop and a hush fell on them. Even Tagan had stopped moving. The captain glared at everybody within eyeshot for what felt like an eternity. "What," and he stopped here for full effect, "In blazes is going on back here?"

The din started up once more, everybody trying to relay their version of they had seen. The captain took a calmer approach this time and raised both his hands to quieten them once again. He sighed loudly before speaking. "One at a time. Ok. One at a time." He snapped his head to one of his junior officers, pointing a long, stern finger at him. "Go and tell those men we are not under attack and to get back in formation."

"Yes sir." The officer darted off, forcing a path through the wall of people in his way.

"You." The captain swung his finger around to the closest of the rear guard. "Tell me what happened back here?"

"Well, sir." The sentry quailed under the captain's question. He was a year, perhaps two, older than Tagan and was visibly distraught at having to speak to the captain. "I didn't exactly see what happened."

"How could you not see what happened, son? Weren't you right here?" The captain's voice changed tone in mid-sentence going from a stern question to a mocking disbelief in the space of a few words. His already stretched patience was about to break once more.

"Yes sir." The young sentry gulped as he steeled his courage enough to continue speaking. "As best I can tell the prisoner," and he pointed at Tagan with his sword, "fell off his horse and that caused the other prisoner to be bucked from his as well." The sentry's voice was a little louder than necessary but wavered with still unconquered fear.

The captain glanced from Tagan to Crenoah and back again but seemed satisfied with the answer and turned stiffly to the young sentry, speaking slowly but with unmistakable aggravated intensity. "Get their hands tied in front of them and get them up and back on their horses. When everybody is ready, send a runner up so we can move out."

The captain stomped off without so much as a backward glance, his two lieutenants racing to keep up to his rage fuelled pace. Tagan looked around as a group of soldiers surrounded him. One stepped up behind him and he felt the rope binding his hands tighten and then release. The brief moment of respite was welcome as blood flowed back into his hands. He made to whip them in front of him so he could rub them together but a sentry grabbed each hand gruffly and held them steady. He let them take control and they brought his arms in front of him, holding them straight out and another sentry stepped up and lashed them together again with dizzying speed and precision. As fast as he had been free, Tagan was bound anew. The surrounding sentries marched him back to the horse he had been riding and hoisted him on board. Tagan was grateful for the little movement he did have and grasped the horn of the saddle as he situated himself, finding his balance. He looked back and Crenoah was once again in his saddle. Crenoah's jaw and neck muscles flexed as if he were trying to speak but his gag was preventing any sound from coming out. He moved his head in odd angles, jutting his chin in and out.

Tagan frowned but realized Crenoah was gesturing at something and he whipped his head around in time to the door to Stonjsin's carriage coming to as if someone had gone inside.

A sentry went whipping past him, running at full speed, disappearing out of site up ahead. In slow lurches the vanguard started off once more.

Chapter 13

Cold wind raced through Clhla Luth's hair, dragging it out behind him in long wavy wisps. It fluttered behind him, whipping up and down in the wind in tempo with the mnaiowk's powerful wing strokes. He should have dressed better than he had but his mind had been preoccupied with the Draepkos and how he was going to get the branch and Ehcim from the clutches of the Ameuralian's. Ehcim was secondary to his rescue plan really. It was more important he retrieve the branch for use in the ritual. The piece of Lefirte, Ehcim had been able to collect was above everything else. Even himself if it came down to that. If he were able to save Ehcim also, he would. Ehcim was, after all, a good assistant. He had been indispensable so far if Clhla Luth were being totally honest. As Clhla Luth's plan had begun to take shape, he had come to rely on Ehcim more and more. Once he had begun to contact the Draepkos, Clhla Luth felt tainted. It became a cyclical thing. The more he came in contact with the Draepkos, the more tarnished he became. He felt like there was a mark or swath on him other people could detect and Clhla Luth had started to loathe being around other persons, preferring instead to take up residence in the mountain dwelling where he first discovered the Draepkos. His thoughts drifted back to when he had discovered the place he now called home. He had been on a reconnaissance mission and found himself caught in a severe storm. The river beside him was raging and swollen with the added volume of water and he feared crossing it in search of a safe respite. The mountains to his other side were tall and foreboding but something was pulling his attention toward them. With a last look at the frothing river, he ran to the mountains base and walked along the tree line, marvelling at the old growth of the trees. Tall and majestic they formed a green blanket that stretched high up into the dark clouds that were pouring out their contents onto the land. He came across a trail and took it, at first because the trees provided great cover from the rain but he didn't hunker down once he was safe inside their canopy. He stopped only for a moment to shake the rain from his pack and cloak, and without thinking about it, took up the trail once more. It switched back and forth up the steep incline, weaving in a continuous switchback pattern in and among the trees. It was as if he were walking along the back of a giant snake as it wound its way up the mountainside. Clhla Luth looked closer at the trail as he walked. It seemed to be worn of time and bore the telltale marks of animals' passage. Scat here and there, claw marks in the dirt. But it didn't feel like a regular game trail. Clhla Luth had the distinct feeling the path had been deliberately made and had come into disuse, to be overtaken by the local wildlife as a convenient route for their travels.

As the trail started to level off and take a more or less straight path, the tree line thinned, becoming more and more sporadic. Clhla Luth could spy copses of wild flowers and grasses dotting the landscape. He would have liked to stop right here and revel in the beauty of nature surrounding him but the pelting rain was showing no signs of letting up and his main focus was to find somewhere dry to ride out the storm. As if some omnipotent being were watching and granting wishes, as Clhla Luth rounded the next bend strange mounds appeared on the landscape. A few at first but the mounds grew in frequency as he walked on until there were more than he cared to count. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. More than once, Clhla Luth stopped in his tracks and rubbed his eyes, concerned he was over tired and was imagining everything. When he would look up once again the mounds were still there. Clhla Luth walked with slow steps as his head swivelled back and forth, taking in as much detail as he could. The mounds were made with the elements of the land. Branch and stone, packed together and mortared with dirt and mud. Most had tiny trees growing from them, taking root in the dirt holding them together. All were covered to varying degrees with moss and lichen. Each had a little doorway, about half of which had been dug down below the level ground. He studied them as close as his eyes would allow but longed to go to each one and search it. The absence of doors on many of the mounds indicated others had been through here and had the same idea. He puzzled over why each of the mounds doorways seemed to be pointing to the east and was devouring every detail, committing them to memory for the report he would give when he returned to Ameuralia. But the trail kept calling him to move forward. As he did, the feeling he was chasing grew stronger. Whatever was calling to him was drawing closer.

The mounds grew less and less frequent as Clhla Luth walked on. They had disappeared altogether as he neared a small hill. He was starting to wonder if had been imagining the attraction to this area, that the pull of something on his intuition was merely wishful thinking. He stopped and did a slow circle, looking for cave entrance, a thick batch of bramble, or a growth of trees. Anywhere nearby where he could take shelter but there appeared to be nowhere to escape the rain. He was hesitant to venture any farther as the trail behind him already seemed to be disappearing in the haze of rain and mud. He turned again to assess the hill he was ascending. The hill's peak disappeared into the low cloud. There was no telling how much higher it went. As he was reticent to climb any further, Clhla Luth debated going back and hiding out in one of the mounds, when something caught his eye. He lifted his head and pulled his hood back, squinting against the rain. He still didn't know what he was looking for. Maybe it was his people's skill with working the earth but something pinged in his subconscious and he realized this was more than a hill. It had a geometrical shape to it and was not some random natural formation of earth. It was blocky and bulbous but it had a definite man made aura to it.

Heartened by the thought, Clhla Luth started ascending the hill once again and the feeling was alive in him once again. The feeling which had drawn him away from his reconnaissance and brought him here in the first place. The feeling that his destiny was here. That the path he was meant to walk was alive and waiting for him inside this odd shaped hill. It felt like a tickling sensation in the pit of his stomach and it radiated out from that point in spirals of glee. In tendrils of happiness that fired from his stomach, reaching into areas he didn't realize he had been ignoring. It made him feel so happy and alive it was almost impossible to contain. He wanted to drop his gear and run, leaping and shrieking in happiness as if a long-lost relative had come home. But Clhla Luth kept himself together. He had always been good at controlling his emotions. For all he knew he was having some delusion brought on by the rain and the cold. He didn't believe so but he had to find out.

Clhla Luth scrabbled up the craggy face of the hill like a child chasing his escaped ball, slipping more often than not on the moss and foliage shrouded rock. He skinned his knees and elbows on almost every fall but he kept going anyway, the pain not registering, drawn on by some unseen prize. About three quarters of the way up the hill he came across a ledge. It was wide enough he could walk along it easily and it went in either direction from where he was. The way to the right felt like the best choice and he started off. It reminded him of the pathway he had followed from the lowlands. Looking down to his right, he could see the mounds he had encountered earlier. From up here they looked like nothing more than bumps. Tiny imperfections in the earth were not of much concern. He dared not watch too long lest he slip but when he did risk taking a glimpse; it appeared the mounds were arrayed in some sort of pattern. A pattern he couldn't make out.

The ledge took a sharp turn to the left, revealing another facet of the hill. It was darker over here but there was less rain so it was a fair trade. Halfway along the ledge, a dark recess appeared to his left. It was set into the hill and Clhla Luth slowed as he neared it, even as his heart began to race. It looked like it could be an entrance of some sort. He stopped right on its lip and peered in but couldn't see anything. It was so dark he had to retrieve a torch from his pack. It took some work to get it lit as it had been dampened from the rain. With the torch finally going, Clhla Luth stood, holding it out in front of him and stepped over the threshold of the opening without hesitation.

The rain stopped immediately, like someone turning off a tap. He thought later about the brashness of entering the opening without any precautions but his heart told him he was safe. He shook his head like a dog that had come out of water, his hair flinging around in wild patterns. Now inside the recess, a closer inspection showed he was standing in a small vestibule. It was scarcely bigger than the large door looming in front of him, swathed in shadow and flickering light. The door looked to be sealed, a large rope stretched across the door, issued from the small piece of wall on one side to the wall on the door's other side. Wax coated the rope and aside from a scratch or two, most likely caused by animals, it was intact. Lifting his torch up he could see the door and wall surrounding it were covered in strange pictures. The drawings were of nothing he recognized but he was immediately drawn to their intricacy and detail. They seemed to tell some sort of story but it was lost on Clhla Luth. Whoever drew them was highly skilled and he was duly impressed by their ability.

Clhla Luth was breathless. He didn't know why but his heart was pounding wildly. He licked his lips and swallowed hard. He pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt and stepped forward. He was so close to the door now he could feel the cold emanating from it. In pulsating waves, the chill washed over him like the heartbeat of a snowstorm. He felt like he was trapped in place, the cold crashing over him. Burying him. Consuming him. Clhla Luth shook his head. He had never felt anything like this before. Never felt this exhilarated. Never felt this terrified. He definitely never felt both emotions so intensely at the same time. He raised his hand to cut the rope and paused once again. It felt like he was at a crossroads. He stood in front of two worlds and each had their reasons. Each had their attributes. But one was the world he knew. The world he lived in now, drowning in mediocrity. Mired in a happy existence with no real plan to move forward. The other path was dark and mysterious. Shrouded in veils of doubt and trials of morality. It was this path that was calling to him. Reaching out for him like an infant would reach for his mother. This was what Clhla Luth wanted. What he craved. With new-found resolve, he brought his knife down on the ropes. The wax, hardened by untold years of vigil, cracked and flaked off in large chunks, falling to the floor with audible thumps. Again, and again, Clhla Luth hacked at the rope with wild abandon. Slicing it with malice and hate, and with fervour and delight. To him the rope represented everything about this world and everything he had grown to hate about it. With each hack and slash, a little repressed rage came out. Like drops of gas on an open flame, his rage flared and he dropped the torch and continued to attack the rope, screaming and yelling, louder and more guttural with each stroke as if he were birthing a monster. With a final tremendous swipe, the rope fell free and the door Clhla Luth wanted to gain entrance to ease away from the frame it rested in. Not all the way. Only a sliver. A fraction. A dark crescent of the new moon he would become. He stood, gaping at the opening, chest heaving as he inhaled deeply, anger and rage subsiding. His hand was trembling as stooped and picked up the torch. The pictures on the wall seemed to glow in response. Clhla Luth stepped forward for the final time and pushed the door open to its full. Pausing as he stepped over the threshold, he turned and looked back. The world was different in some way. A way he couldn't quite put his finger on but something had changed. Whether it was he or the world he looked on, Clhla Luth didn't know. He only knew that he was in control of what it was to become. An evil smile, too long suppressed, sprang to life on his lips and he shut the door behind him.

Chapter 14

Sequil's hands were clenched onto the reins of the horse in equal measure of force to the grip Kenok had around her waist, like she was some kind of tension coupler. The reins were her lifeline to escape, her tether. As long as she had those reins in her hand, Sequil felt everything was going to be ok. The horse probably needed to stop but she couldn't care about that. There was no time for it. To its credit the horse responded to her repeated snapping of the reins, squeezing out every last erg of energy it could from its powerful legs but even the most powerful horse in the world could only keep up that pace for so long and it was starting to fade, to labour, it's muscles beyond exhausted. How long they had been running Sequil didn't know but she couldn't bring herself to slow down. She couldn't face what it meant. It meant having to see her husband viciously wounded. It meant that she could lose him at any time and she couldn't face that. She didn't want to have to deal with it. Even through her anger at him, she couldn't face what losing him would mean. Why did she listen to him? Why did he want to stay and question that beast of a man? It was ludicrous. It didn't take hindsight to see it was a bad idea. Her woman's intuition was screaming at her the second Kenok announced his plan to question the intruder. Tears streamed down her cheeks, pouring hot and free from her tear ducts but she couldn't feel them for the wind in her face. If they made it as far down as her nose, they were ice cold at that point.

"Stop, Sequil. I can't hang on any longer." Kenok's voice was raspy and strangled. He could feel swaths of warmth washing across his one hand but he dared not look. The other he had wrapped around Sequil's waist like a constrictor snake, clinging for dear life, but he was losing strength. "Please, Sequil, stop." The last word came out as a whisper. A plea.

Kenok's weak voice cut through Sequil's emotion and she tensed as if frightened. As if she was alone and he had come barging in. But she had to stop. They couldn't run any more for the time being. She shoved her anger down and reined in the horse. It was running so fast it took hundreds of feet for it to come to a full stop. When they did, Sequil was sure if the horse could have, it would have flopped on its side. As it was, it had to stand there, foam frothing at the corners of its mouth around the bit, nostrils flaring with each giant lungful of air it pulled in. Its giant chest was expanding and contracting like the bellows of a forge at full capacity.

In a heartbeat, everything changed. The wind whistling in Sequil's ears ceased. The shod footfalls of the horse at high speed died away with the rattling of the carriage. There was a moment of pointed silence as her worlds teetered. A rift in space, like she was trapped in a bubble, before the enormity of the situation descended on her. As if the bubble could no longer maintain cohesion, it burst, releasing a mudslide of feelings. Her shoulders slumped, the horse's reins falling from her hands and Sequil wept. Sobbed. Wailed. The rawness of the anger and fear she was feeling consumed her, smothered her, threatening to drag her down into a nightmare she wasn't sure she could escape.

A warm hand grasped her shoulder and squeezed as if it were trying to hug her. Sequil's crying stuttered as Kenok touched her. His hand was soothing and reassuring. They had been through so much together; they would get through this too.

"Sequil." Kenok's voice was soft but firm. "Sequil, I need your help to get down from the horse. I can't do it on my own."

Sequil only nodded, still sobbing, still fighting to keep herself in check. The reality was she wasn't sure she could take any more. She didn't want to see Kenok's injury but there was no choice. They had to attend to his wounds before they could go on. "Ok, Kenok. Ok." Her voice quivered as she spoke but the act of talking was a tonic in itself. In a small way, it took her out of the situation. Stopped her from thinking all the terrible thoughts she was having. "Let me get down first and I can help you."

Kenok didn't respond verbally but withdrew his hand from Sequil's shoulder and leaned back, bracing himself.

Sequil lifted her right leg up and over the horse's neck and spun in the saddle, letting herself drop to the ground with nary a noise. She paused, bracing herself and then lifted her eyes to Kenok and gasped, her hands flying to her face.

Sequil looked up at Kenok, her face wretched with emotion, red from windburn. Her lovely hair a knotted mess of fly-aways, now peppered with leaves and branches from the foliage hanging over the road. But it was her eyes he noticed most. They were red and puffy from crying but looking deeper revealed a heart breaking. A soul longing to escape this horrible situation as if it were trapped in some purgatorial test and knew there was no escape. Not yet. Kenok winced as he tried to sit up straight but managed to anyway despite the renewal of pain lancing through his midsection. He smiled in spite of the pain. He didn't want to. He had to. Seeing Sequil like this was more disturbing than he thought possible. He would gladly take a dozen more knives in his back if it would make everything ok.

Sequil swayed on the spot as she looked at Kenok. He was pale like a clean sheet and a liberal stripe of red was visible down the lower part of his back, across his buttock and down the horse's wide haunch. He smiled at her but it looked as if Kenok was on the verge of passing out. She had to do something, and fast. You can get through this. You can do this. Be strong for Kenok. She curled her hands into fists that covered her mouth as she took a deep breath and as she exhaled, pulled them away from her mouth and flexed, squeezing every muscle from her hands up to her chest. It was her way of setting herself. Steeling her resolve to the situation, as best she could, so she could be of use. "We need to look at your wound. "

Kenok nodded, grimacing once more from the effort.

Sequil extended a hand to Kenok and he took it. The connection steeled her will even more. "Ok, Kenok. Can you get your leg over the horse?"

"I think I can. Let me try." Kenok leaned toward Sequil slightly, using her for support and pulled his leg toward himself and lifted. He was glad to see his leg responding. He was even gladder he wasn't putting all the work on Sequil. He felt Sequil shift a little behind him, setting her feet, but she was strong and sturdy for him. As his leg came up and over the saddle, Kenok's head started to swim. Spots and blurriness took turns dancing before his eyes and he slipped backward.

Sequil was ready for it. She felt Kenok's strength fade as if he had used up all the energy he had left. It started with his grip on her hand loosening the tiniest amount. From there it travelled up his arm like a pulse. The muscles in Kenok's arm faltered and Sequil stepped her feet wide apart, bracing herself. It was another second, perhaps two and Kenok tumbled off the horse toward her. She whipped up her other arm, catching her forearm under Kenok's armpit. His legs slid off the horse, lank and limp like overcooked spaghetti and plopped to the ground. Sequil groaned under his full weight. She could feel the butt of something sticking into her down near her waist. It was the end of whatever was sticking out of Kenok. She didn't want to lay Kenok on the ground. She glanced around and spotted their small carriage. With tremendous effort, Sequil dragged Kenok's listless body over to the wagon. She didn't have the strength to lift him onto it and was so tired from the effort, she had to sit down. Sitting on the edge the carriage, Kenok cradled in front of her, Sequil could feel Kenok's blood on her leg, creating a warm spot. She knew she had to get a look at the wound and summoned all the strength she could and stood back up. Spinning her torso around and pushing, she wrestled Kenok's upper body onto the carriage. Her hands were pinned under Kenok and it was another feat of strength to remove them. When she did, she stepped back; breathing deeply as if she had run for miles. She picked up Kenok's feet, one on either side like she was managing a wheelbarrow and walked them counter clockwise toward the carriage. Kenok's upper body resisted, trying to stay right where it was but Sequil pushed and pushed and finally it relented, twisting and sliding around. As she walked around the end of the carriage she twisted Kenok's legs, one over the other forcing his upper body to twist over to one side so he was mostly lying on his stomach. She dropped one leg and pushed the foot of the top leg toward Kenok's face. It bent to ninety degrees and she dropped it, leaving it as a brace so he couldn't roll all the way over. She made her way back around the carriage so she was at Kenok's back and stopped for a rest. Sequil could see the handle of a knife sticking out of Kenok's mid back area. She wrenched it out and glared at it for a moment, blaming it for the predicament she found herself in. With great force, she threw it aside and pulled up Kenok's shirt to assess the damage.

Tyhreb stood still and solemn as if he had become petrified as he watched his prize race away into the dark. All he could do was shake his head. He should be happy he supposed. If the tables were turned, and he were the one Kenok was trying to capture. He stopped and chuckled to himself. There was no way in the world he would have let Kenok live. But, Tyhreb was still alive. A burning feeling from his side drew his attention and he glanced down to where the sword had nipped his skin. There was a healthy amount of blood around the area, dribbling down his armor and onto his legs but it was too much of a mess to really see what was going on. He looked again in the direction he had watched Kenok escape and made a mental note. Let them run. I will get my prize. Next time though, it was going to be his way and it didn't matter who got in his way. Women or man, it didn't matter. He was catching his prize.

Tyhreb turned his attention to the sky. It was getting lighter. Not by much, but he could see it. Dawn wasn't far off. He turned and went back into the house, straight to the kitchen area and after a bit of rummaging around, found a towel. A pot of water hung in the fireplace and he took the towel there. Feeling inside the pot with his free hand, he found the water to be cold which was fine for his purposes. He pulled his leathers over his head, sneaking a glance at the slice in it. Laying it on the ground, he pulled off his undershirt to get a better look at the wound on his side. As far as slashes go, it looked pretty good he thought. It was quite long but not very deep and the edges were sliced straight like someone cutting Sunday's roast, so no jagged edges or missing flesh. But there was quite a bit of blood and every time he moved, the slice opened a little, releasing more gurgles of red. Tyhreb picked up the towel and ripped it in half, putting half aside. He dipped the other half into the pot of water, and then lifted it out, squeezing out the excess water. He took his time cleaning the slash, wiping away the blood while trying not to disturb the gash any more than he had to. When he had the area clean to his liking, he could see the cut was deeper than he thought. Looking over the patchwork of other scars on his exposed body, Tyhreb shrugged another one for the collection. He tossed aside the soiled towel and picked up the clean half. He was going to use this one as a makeshift bandage but he needed something to secure it in place. He returned to the kitchen and rummaged around some more, finding a section of twine that would work quite well. He folded the towel up so it was long enough to cover the slice without overlapping too much and secured it in place with the twine. Not my best work he admitted but it would suffice for now.

Tyhreb went back to where he had left his garments and pulled on the shirt, careful to not disturb his bandage. Then the leather went over. He fingered the gaping hole in it but there was nothing he could do now. It was probably time for new armor anyway. He would remedy the situation after this mission was complete.

The first shafts of daylight were coming over the mountain, giving Tyhreb illumination to look around Kenok's dwelling. It was twilight-like but plenty light enough for him to inventory the house and see what he could find. With his knife gone, hanging out of Kenok's back, Tyhreb needed some other weapons. As much as he wanted to wring Kenok by the neck, something told Tyhreb the next time they met, there would be more people for him to contend with. He went straight to the bedroom. The fireplace poker was on the floor, bent from the force Kenok used it with to pummel his skull. Tyhreb moved a meaty hand to his head and felt around. It was a little lumpy and sore in spots but he had taken worse beatings. In his line of work, it was inevitable. His mind drifted back even further but he stopped himself, shuddering. Yes, that had been the worst beating he took ever and he didn't want to relive it now. Tyhreb's sword was there as well, lying on the floor, comfortable and smug, like it had enjoyed its little adventure. The ribbon of red along its blade looked like a wicked smile and Tyhreb could feel anger starting to course through his veins as if the sword had done it on purpose. But he remembered it was only a piece of metal. Metal that could feel nothing and was doing what it had been created to do. He picked it up and wiped the blood off on his pant leg. A quick inspection showed it was none the worse for the wear and he sheathed it but still felt lacking.

He rummaged around the room some more, much like a large animal would. Yanking out dresser drawers and dumping them on the ground and when they were all emptied, tipping the dresser over onto the pile to make sure nothing was behind it. When that was done, Tyhreb stopped. He had turned out all the drawers. With great gusto, he had wrenched the coat rack Kenok had hid behind while waiting in ambush off the floor and snapped it in half over his large leg, throwing either half away from him in disgust. He still couldn't believe he had been caught unawares so easily. He shook his head and sighed, then turned and looked at the bedroom. The floor was littered with clothes and linens but there was nothing he could use as a weapon. He supposed they were a modest family and had little so he shouldn't have expected much, but there was something. His instincts were telling him loud and clear there was something more to be found. Something worthy enough that Kenok had risked both his and his wife's lives staying to defend. Tyhreb had hoped it was a weapon but perhaps he was mistaken. Maybe he was imagining things from the blows to the head. He didn't know but his instincts had always been spot on before he was not about to start second guessing them now so he continued to search. Lifting and throwing over the bed. Dumping the side tables. Rampaging through the closet but finding nothing. He looked out the window and could see the morning was getting long. He estimated that Kenok had perhaps three hours' head start on him and decided he better abandon his search. He wasn't worried about Kenok getting away completely. There was no way Tyhreb was going to allow that to happen. The memory of the knife he had thrown into Kenok's back had Tyhreb concerned Kenok wouldn't be alive when he found him. If that happened, it would be his first fail in many, many missions. On top of that, he wouldn't get paid. He snapped up, standing to his full height. I better get moving.

Tyhreb waded across the floor, walking over the discarded items of his search, through the main part of the house and out the front door, not bothering to close it behind him. Standing at the front, he looked again in the direction Kenok had gone and nodded. He made sure his equipment was secure and was about to take off when he heard it. A whinnying noise and he whipped his head around, reaching for his sword. A horse would allow him to catch up with Kenok much faster. He withdrew his hand from his sword and marched swiftly to the stable. The door was open and even with Kenok gone, he entered cautiously out of habit. He knew he was the only one there but being stealthy was engrained in him. Encoded into his DNA. It was the way he lived his life. He walked past two empty paddocks, coming to a third. A lone horse was there, looking at him solemnly, before going back to nuzzling at hay. The horse was stout and strong; making Tyhreb confident it would be able to handle a person of his size. Tyhreb looked behind him and figured the saddles and such would be kept in the small room he could see. He didn't need a whole saddle; the bridle and reins would be enough. Entering the room, he could see a saddle on the table on the right side of the room. Along the back wall was a row of cupboards. Tyhreb opened the first of these to find it empty. The next one contained many oils and supplies for tanning and maintaining the leather saddles. The last cabinet was locked. Tyhreb wasn't in the mood to be delicate and wrenched the door with one hand, ripping it right off its hinges making a splintery crunching sound, and tossed it aside. The reins he was looking for were hanging inside. He didn't understand why it needed to be locked. The chance of thievery out here was slim and besides, the saddle was left out in the open and was much more valuable. Tyhreb pulled a handful of bridles toward him, sifting through them for one that suited his purposes. When he found it, he let the rest drop and they swung back, hitting the rear wall with a dull, hollow clunk. Tyhreb's head snapped from the bridle he was arranging to the interior of the cupboard. Something was back there. The hair on his neck stood up and his heart came to life, pounding hard in his ribs as if he had sprinted hundreds of yards. Perhaps this is what had been drawing him. Without taking his eyes from the cupboard, he reached back and dropped the bridle on the table. He stood still, appraising the cupboard. If Kenok was hiding something out here, it meant it was important to Kenok. Important enough Kenok felt it necessary to keep it hidden from his wife as well, which only increased Tyhreb's interest. He grabbed the remaining items in the cupboard and threw them to the floor at his feet. The light was so dim he couldn't see inside as clearly as he would have liked. He wondered if Kenok had put some kind of trap in there. He shook his head. A trap was how he would have done it and he remembered his thinking was different from most. He reached inside the cupboard to the back wall, his arms disappearing up to the elbow, and felt around. There was no handle or latch but he could feel the outline of a false wall. He increased the search area but could not find any handle or release mechanism. He was about to give up and go back to his old standard of brute force when his hand found a tiny, slender piece of rope. His excitement spiked again and he grasped the rope and pulled it straight out toward himself. Nothing happened. He moved it back in, closer to the back wall, and pulled it up. He heard the snick of a catch being released and the door fell outward, onto his arm. Tyhreb threw it aside with his other hand and hesitated for a moment before plunging his hand deep into the darkness, his excitement at uncovering the secret tantalizing. A bit of feeling around before his hand came across a wooden box. It was probably of medium size but a man his size could grab it with one hand. In one motion, he swept it from the hiding spot, wincing as he did, hoping there was no trap. Once the box was pulled from its hiding spot he looked at it lovingly for a moment, like a child would a new toy, before wandering over and placing it on the table to take a closer look. It was well crafted, smooth all around, with rounded corners. A thin line, about a third of the way from the top demarcated the lid, which was attached with golden hinges, barely visible. There was no lock and Tyhreb sighed, his hand hovering above the lid. Quick as a striking snake he reached down and flipped open the lid, then froze, looking sidelong at the contents which glinted and gleamed at him.

Chapter 15

Tâ Oandimn? It made no sense to Braulor. Where is Tâ Oandimn? What is Tâ Oandimn? He had never heard of such a place. Looking around at the darkness, he found it hard to believe this place even had a name at all. It looked more like a diorama of what he would find in the shade of a rock and not somewhere where there was any type of existence to be found. He had no idea what to do or where to go so he turned his attention back to Draax. In the aftermath of the dream and then meeting Draax, Braulor hadn't taken the time analyze his situation. Draax wasn't looking at Braulor at the moment, preferring to stare dreamily into the distance, a lopsided smile on his face as if he found everything about this place to be of the keenest interest. As if there were nothing more worthwhile seeing anywhere. Draax looked so complacent and full of wonder that Braulor felt bad for interrupting him but if he got here, there had to be a way to get out of here and he had to find out what it was. "Draax."

Draax started and turned to look at Braulor, his eyes full of wonder. It looked to Braulor as if Draax were seeing him for the first time. "Draax?"

"Yes mister." Draax was having trouble keeping his focus on Braulor. Invariably something would draw his attention away.

"What were you doing before you found me?" Braulor didn't know where to start and thought this would be as good a place as any. With the way Draax was behaving, it was going to take some work to get the information he wanted out of him.

Draax's face lit up for a brief moment and he opened his mouth as if he were about to say something profound. Then the confused look stole back over his face and he closed his mouth.

Braulor raised his eyebrows in surprise, not wanting to say anything. He was hoping Draax was formulating an answer and didn't want to interrupt his train of thought.

"I was walking." Even as he said it, Draax wasn't so sure. It came out more like a question than a statement.

Braulor nodded, happy to have something to work with. "Do you remember where you were walking from? Or where you were walking to?

Draax was silent once more, screwing up his face in thought. "I don't know." He pronounced as if he were reading a verdict at a trial.

"What don't you know?"

"I don't know where I was walking from."

"Was it nearby?" Braulor gestured into the darkness even though there weren't any visible destinations.

"I'm not sure."

Braulor was getting frustrated. This conversation was going nowhere fast. He sighed, his shoulder sagging as if he were defeated. "Ok. You were walking. That you're sure of?" Braulor was trying to maintain calm. Draax was his only source of information so far and he needed him. Getting angry and forcing Draax away wasn't going to improve his situation.

"Yes." Draax nodded once, happy to have an affirmative answer.

"Were you walking to somewhere? Or away from something?" It was the same question he already asked but Braulor was hopeful phrasing it differently was going to blossom into something useful.

"Both. I think." Draax wasn't so sure but he didn't really know. All he really knew was he was in Tâ Oandimn.

Braulor sighed. He was starting to despair. He was beginning to wonder if he really was dead and this was some sort of purgatorial test he had to endure.

"I can show you if you like." Draax was happy again. There were many things he didn't know in this place but all he could remember was the walking. Walking and walking, like a lab rat on a wheel. Walking was all he could do, but it was fun, so he liked it he decided.

Braulor wasn't so sure he wanted to leave this spot. This was where he awoke in this realm or world or whatever it was and he was worried if he left it, he wouldn't be able to find any other way out. Or worse, he would discover this was the only way out and he wouldn't be able to find it again. Everywhere he looked; it all appeared the same murky darkness. There would be no way for him to demarcate this was where he started. But Braulor also knew there was really no other choice. His only connection in this world was Draax. And from what Braulor knew, Draax had been here for some time. Braulor had to hope in Draax's travels he had discovered somewhere or someone that could get him out of here. "Ok, Draax. Show me." he finally agreed.

Draax sprang up and clapped his hands, doing a little dance on the spot. He wasn't able to contain his feelings. He was starting to get bored of the sitting and the conversation. Since he had been here, he hadn't really stopped moving. Ever since that man left him alone, Draax had started walking. Something compelled him to walk. He didn't know why but he didn't really give it much thought. He enjoyed the walking and the others, as he referred to them, left him alone. He associated his safety with walking so he didn't want to sit here any longer than he had to. And now he had company. What could be better?

Braulor watched Draax do his little dance and wished he could share in his sense of joy but he was still not sure about leaving this place behind him. But he had to do something. Nobody was coming to rescue him, which he knew. He had to find his own way out. He stood up with some reticence, not letting go of the staff. His body was stiff as if he had been working hard so he was glad for the support the staff provided. "Ok. Let's go Draax."

Draax was elated and nodded before bounding off.

Braulor took a last look around, hoping against hope for some sort of beacon or talisman that would lead him back here, but there was nothing and he fell in step behind Draax.

So much had happened in rapid succession, Grawton's head was spinning trying to make sense of it all. First, there was the removal of the barrier to Tâ Oandimn. How it happened, he didn't know. Grawton only knew the barrier was no longer there which allowed Karuuk Ul to return to earth, albeit only for brief moments of time. The barrier being removed had been the starter's pistol. The tipping point of the debaucherous avalanche that had followed. Once Karuuk' Ul discovered he could leave Tâ Oandimn, plans for what to do with this newfound freedom had come together so quickly, it was is if Karuuk Ul's prayers had been answered. Up to that point, life in Tâ Oandimn had been descending into a routine of same old, same old. New souls would arrive; surprised as always they had ended up here. Even more surprised to find out there was penance to be paid for their earthly transgressions. Whatever treacherous deceit they were capable of in the material realms meant nothing to Karuuk Ul or Grawton. Toughness was not an issue. So, they killed, maimed, tortured victims on Earth without second thought; it didn't impress either of them one iota. One would think they would be better prepared to handle the consequences of their actions. But they weren't. No matter their strength or tenacity Earth side, as Grawton had come to refer to it, they would be broken. A few resisted. Feeble attempts to fight their way out or prove they weren't going to kowtow to anyone but they ended up getting it worse than those that gave in and accepted their fate. Not much but worse. Maybe there was some small part of them that held onto that resistance, that spark of defiance because it was the only light they would ever see again. It gave them courage or hope. But there was none. They weren't getting out of Tâ Oandimn. No one ever did. They would assume their spot in the pecking order and ride out eternity in this place.

Now Tâ Oandimn was brimming with an infusion of new souls, new sources of diabolical pleasure for Grawton to enjoy. It was the attack on Vjeinka Rise. It had been pulled off with amazing precision. Karuuk Ul's spell work was rusty and it had taken some time but he managed to work a spell which allowed them to leave Tâ Oandimn but only for the tiniest fractions of time. It was all he could manage at the moment. But it was all they needed. Grawton had selected those whom accompanied him personally. They were as equally evil as he and it didn't take much convincing. Given the chance to leave this place and assuage their blood lust with real flesh and blood, Grawton could have easily found tens of thousands willing to do it but a few hundred had been enough. And how they enjoyed themselves. The confusion. The screaming. The mayhem, which filled those blinks of savagery. Thinking about it now was almost enough to make him smile. If he knew how it had been so long since he smiled in enjoyment he wasn't sure if he knew how anymore. The attack had awoken something in him. A memory was lurking, trying to sneak its way into his reverie. He recognized it at once and suppressed it with as much hate as he could. It was the last thing he remembered as a young boy, days perhaps before the event that changed him into the monster he had become. He hated the memory and wished he knew how Karuuk Ul extracted them so he could rid himself of it forever.

Grawton had been thinking long and hard about how this memory had been released from the prison he had stuffed it into. Stuffed it into, locked the door and destroyed the key. Or so he thought. It was the staff. It had been a part of the spell Karuuk Ul had cast and Grawton had felt its vibration every time he returned to Vjeinka Rise. Its essence was unmistakable and now he could feel it here in Tâ Oandimn. How? Where? Its signal was weak as if it were being blocked in some way but it was there, calling to him. Teasing him. It wasn't lost on Grawton that he detected the staff's presence in Tâ Oandimn around the same time Karuuk Ul had gone missing.

Grawton puzzled over Karuuk Ul's absence. They had worked so closely together, Grawton almost felt lonely without him. Karuuk Ul had returned in brief stints after the attack on Vjeinka Rise to enjoy in the suffering of those souls they had claimed there. Karuuk Ul didn't participate directly, rather he let those that had taken part in the attack, including Grawton, continue to apply pain and suffering. During one of these visits Karuuk Ul had taken Grawton aside and told him an event was developing and he was going look in and see what he could learn. Karuuk' Ul didn't elaborate in any way as to what the event was and he hadn't been back since. Grawton wasn't concerned, per se, more he felt like he was stuck. His goal had always been to usurp Karuuk Ul but he assumed he would have to do it surreptitiously. On the sly. With the breadth of Karuuk' Ul's power and vision, there would be no other way to do it. With Karuuk Ul inexplicably absent, now seemed the best time for Grawton to stake his claim. There was always the chance Grawton could put his foot forward only to have Karuuk Ul appear once more. Grawton had grown powerful but he knew he was still no match for Karuuk Ul and he wasn't ready to pay the price Karuuk Ul would extract for such a betrayal. No, the time wasn't right yet. A whimper drew his attention to the soul he had been torturing when this bout of reflection had come upon him. Grawton had continued his attack but it was in a distracted way. With his attention turned Grawton's evil began to flow freely once more, building in intensity like trying to contain a shock wave. He renewed his grip on the soul, raising his free hand, readying for another blow. And there it was again. A little pulse of difference in the static. The vibration of the staff, tapping into his thoughts with a little nudge. Not obtrusively or bluntly but more like a poke to announce its presence. His rage quelled, deflating like a balloon and he lowered his hand, letting go of the soul. It fell to ground at his feet and stayed there, not moving, afraid to draw attention to itself once again. Grawton looked down at the soul, feeling remorse. Not for it but for himself because he didn't have the desire to hurt it any longer. He nodded to the group of his minions that had been watching and they swooped in with glee, dragging the shrieking soul with them, off to where they could have their fun with it. Grawton closed his eyes and tried to tune in to the staff, aching to find that feeling, that tinge of power. The power he would need to topple Karuuk Ul and allow him to rule over Tâ Oandimn. Grawton reached out with his every sense, feeling for it, begging for it to reveal itself to him. He felt a tiny ripple tickle his senses and Grawton took off toward it.

Chapter 16

Clhla Luth leaned over the neck of his flying steed to get his bearing. From up here the land looked like a giant patchwork of color of and texture. Tall mountains, capped with snow were jutting up at him as if they were spears ready to launch at him in defence for what he wanted to do. Waves of green trees blended into brown and green lowlands, laced with blue rivers which looked like snakes writhing through terra, terminating in pools of green and blue that varied in size from small blobs to vast expanses. In the distance, ahead, Clhla Luth could see the tree. The dratted tree. Lefirte. Though it was quite young, it drew your attention, dominating the landscape. Even from here he could see flashes of gold and silver shimmer up and down its trunk, reflecting and absorbing the light at the same time. Around Lefirte's canopy, colours of every shade imaginable swirled like a discordant symphony. A continuous surge of hue and tint, that pulsed to some unseen force as if it were breathing. Kaleidoscopic as if a painter were spinning his palette in search of the perfect shade. Clhla Luth was happy to see a small part of the canopy was showing no light. No nothing of any sort. Only a gap where there should be light. He knew why it was dark.

It wasn't necessary for Clhla Luth to look; he knew he was getting close to Ameuralia. He could feel it. He could the feel the change in energy which surrounded his homeland. In truth, he looked because deep down where he pretended the feelings didn't exist, he missed this place. It had been many decades since he last set foot in Ameuralia and there was some part of him that wanted to take it all in this one last time. It was a small part of Clhla Luth, but it was there none the less and if his plan came to fruition, Ameuralia would be no more. A pang of pain at the thought surprised him but also reminded him of whom he was and what he was trying accomplish, so he pushed that part of him down. Suppressed it back to recesses of times past, to hopefully stay. He had to look forward, keeping his focus on his plan.

Clhla Luth could have used stealth to approach Ameuralia but due to the constraints of time, it wasn't feasible and he opted to forgo a sneak attack. His plan was to land his Mnaiowk down where he was sure the Ameuralian's would be holding Ehcim captive and free him. Bold and brazen, yes, but if it was time for him to announce himself to the world, he wanted to do it loud and proud. He was sure the branch would be in the same place. The Lefirte being attacked would have caused the Ameuralian's considerable distress as it had never happened before. They would bring Ehcim and the branch back here and hold them while they debated how to repair the tree.

Clhla Luth smiled at the thought. The disarray humored him. The angst the Ameuralian's would be feeling was so enjoyable to Clhla Luth, he laughed out loud. It was strange and throaty as he hadn't laughed in such a long time but it wasn't mirth. It was pleasure at their suffering. Pleasure at how it was his plan which caused their pain. How surprised they would be to see him. Clhla Luth's return was going to be the point in which the old history came to an end and the new era began. His era. Of course, there would be 'her' to deal with. Clhla Luth's smile disappeared so fast when he thought of her it was as if someone had wrenched it from his face in one pull like they were removing a Band-Aid. It was replaced with a setting of his jaw, finishing in a menacing scowl. Her. He hadn't forgotten about her. He wasn't scared of her either. Not anymore. Clhla Luth had grown powerful in his time away from Ameuralia. He was confident she would be no match for his skills. Clhla Luth urged his steed on, pulling on the makeshift reigns, directing it down in a steep and steady dive. He wanted to get there and get this over with now.

Clhla Luth was maybe a hundred feet or so above ground when he finally relented and pulled back on the reins, his steed flapping hard to get out of the dive they were in. The Mnaiowk hung in the air for a moment as if gravity couldn't decide what was going to happen next. The steed struggled, its long wings bowed with upward thrust, stretching and straining. A battle of muscle and sinew, versus g-force. The steed won the battle, screeching a long, pained howl in its victory as if trumpeting their arrival. Clhla Luth looked below once more. As he had hoped, the scene was chaotic and filled with mayhem. People were scurrying in every direction; unsure what was going on and what they should be doing. The guard were forming ranks with bowmen making lines of archer's several deep, all of them sinking to one knee and notching arrows in unison. They looked like a machine getting ready for use but Clhla Luth knew they wouldn't fire on him. Not yet anyway. It wasn't their mandate. Clhla Luth was still an unknown. They didn't know if he was friend or foe and they wouldn't attack unless they were provoked. They would try to mediate first. Weave a spell with their words and lure you into surrender. Spill no blood unless they had to. It would be their undoing.

Clhla Luth dug his heels into the mnaiowk and pulled on the reins. The steed responded and they descended with agonizing slowness. Clhla Luth did this for effect but also to give himself time to fully assess the situation. As they dropped from the sky he was noting as much as he could about the amount of men assembled, type of armor and weapons they possessed. He buckled slightly as his steed touched down and stood still like a statue. Clhla Luth turned his head from side to side. For a moment, nobody moved, each of them sizing the other up. Finally, one stepped forward from behind the assembled infantry. "Hail traveller. What brings you our land?"

Clhla Luth fixed his gaze on the boy. He was young but had grown since Clhla Luth had last seen him. He didn't need anyone to tell him, the family resemblance was strong in this one. One of the queens own.

Clhla Luth slipped his leg over the mnaiowk's neck and slid out of the saddle, landing on the ground without a noise. He stood for a second, getting his legs under him. He reached up and unwound the scarf he was using to conceal his face from the cold altitude, revealing his face in slow unwinds, letting the scarf drape down under his chin. A collective gasp went up from the assembly as they recognized him.

"It is I, Meyu Kwi. I come for my servant."

Chapter 17

It had been so long since Tagan had seen Meyu Kwi; he forgot what it was like to converse with him. He had forgotten the feeling of being in Quanna Eresse. The warmth. The love. The enveloping sense of safety that would encompass him when he was here. But something wasn't right. Meyu Kwi wasn't responding to him. Wasn't reacting at all. In every other encounter with Meyu Kwi, he had always approached Tagan shortly after appearing in Quanna Eresse as if he had been expecting him all along. Meyu Kwi always welcomed Tagan as if he were a long lost relative popping by for a visit. Now, Meyu Kwi was looking in Tagan's direction but wasn't speaking. Wasn't moving toward him or welcoming him in any way. It was like there was a barrier between them, stopping them from connecting.

"Meyu Kwi." Tagan called out to him, hoping to draw his attention but Meyu Kwi still did not react in any way. It was as if Tagan were invisible to him. Tagan called out again, louder this time, screaming as hard as his lungs would allow. It didn't sound any louder to his ears and it didn't have the desired effect either. Meyu Kwi didn't react. Tagan abandoned trying to catch Meyu Kwi's attention verbally and decided to go to him. He started walking but Meyu Kwi grew no closer, always staying the same distance away. Tagan started to run. A slow trot at first, little faster than his walking pace but as Meyu Kwi didn't draw nearer, Tagan began to sprint, running as fast as he could. Still nothing. Meyu Kwi stood there, out of reach, speaking words Tagan couldn't hear and making gestures that had no meaning to Tagan. It was as if Tagan was looking in on Meyu Kwi having a conversation with someone Tagan couldn't see. Tagan gave up and stopped running. Even that was different. When he stopped, Tagan wasn't breathing hard. His muscles weren't laboured like they would be had he actually been running hard. Tagan looked around. It certainly appeared like he was in Quanna Eresse and Tagan tried to connect with the land, looking for the sentient feeling the land of Quanna Eresse normally exuded but could feel nothing. Tagan looked again to Meyu Kwi and he was still standing the same way, locked in conversation with some unknown person. As a last feeble attempt Tagan waved his hands fiercely, jumping up and down. Nothing. It was if Tagan was chasing a shadow. The thought was dying on the synapse which had borne it when the scene dissolved and Tagan was once more in the dark world he had been dreaming of when he was captured.

Not so rushed this time, Tagan took the time to survey the area around him. It was dark here. Not pitch black but more like twilight. That thick and pervasive darkness that comes when the sun has set for the night but night has not yet come fully on. Now that he thought about it, the last time he was here it was the same way and Tagan wondered if it ever changed. Tagan began to walk. He didn't know where he was going but for some reason he was drawn in a certain direction. Tagan could sense he was actually moving this time and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. As he walked, he could see the darkness swirl around him. Not that the darkness was swirling. Rather there were things darker than the twilight, swirling around him, leaving murky traces in their wake like a duck swimming across a pond and kicking up the mud from below. As he walked, more and more swirling began to take place around him. He felt like he was being watched by something, and it was those some things that were leaving the dark wakes as they stalked him. More and more of them kept appearing as if he was some sideshow which had become a major attraction and everybody was rushing to get a look for themselves.

There was no sense of time here so Tagan had no idea how long he had been walking. It didn't seem very long when up ahead he could see someone walking along the same path as he. He stopped for a moment, trying to ascertain who or what it was. The gait. The stride. It all looked so familiar to Tagan and he stopped, every muscle clenching as if he could bodily hold the scene in place. The mere act of him squeezing enough to make it become a reality. Braulor. It was Braulor. For the second time, Tagan took off at a run, his heart bursting at the seams with happiness. His clenched muscles released like a sprinter. The swirling beings backed off as if a lamp had been lit and the light was burning their eyes. Many disappeared altogether, back to wherever they had come from. The rest hung around, keeping a fairer distance but wanting to see what was going to happen next.

Tagan ran as fast as his legs would allow and was happy to see that he was actually gaining ground on Braulor. "Braulor." His breath felt heavy and forced as he called out to his brother. Not because he was panting for breath from running but rather it was the environment making it so. It was like he was at high altitude and his lungs couldn't pull in enough air to make his vocal chords vibrate properly. Braulor didn't respond and Tagan was about to call out once more but changed his mind, deciding to save his breath. He was so close now, he could see Braulor's hair bobbing to and fro as he walked, staff held firmly in hand. The staff. Tagan had forgotten about the staff. All the misgivings Tagan had started to harbour about it flooded back into his mind. The scene in the clearing repeated itself in Tagan's mind. Braulor and Alrei Yqu fighting over the staff before the Shadowkeeper descended on them like smog. A small flash like a spark from a fire and they had all disappeared. Tagan wondered if this is where they had come to. He couldn't explain why Alrei Yqu wasn't here but this world sure looked like where the Shadowkeeper would be from. But that would mean that Braulor had come to the world of the Shadowkeeper. The world Braulor had told him about where souls go when they have led a life of dark deeds. Tagan shook his head. There had to be some other explanation. There was no way Braulor would be coming here. Braulor was the bravest, most honest, heroic person he had ever met. It didn't make sense. If Braulor was to go anywhere, he would be where good souls go and are heralded for their earthly accomplishments.

Tagan hadn't noticed but his run had slowed to a fast walk and he was a mere twenty or so feet behind Braulor. Focussing in again, Tagan could see Braulor wasn't alone. There appeared to be someone with him, walking a little way ahead of Braulor as if he were leading him somewhere. Tagan didn't know why but this person looked familiar to him as well. The person turned to Braulor as if about to say something but his eyes skipped past Braulor and fell on Tagan, making him stop cold in his tracks.

Tagan couldn't be sure but it looked like the body the Shadowkeeper had been using on earth. It was the same shape and height but something was different about the face. Braulor had stopped and the person spoke to him, pointing a hand in Tagan's direction. Braulor turned his head to look. Tagan was hadn't stopped walking and was so close now behind him, another step or maybe two and he would be able to hug his brother.

Like a storm formed when weather systems collide, darkness swept up. It was as if someone snuffed out a candle and the whole scene was plunged into darkness accompanied with an icy chill.

"Braulor." Tagan screamed with every ounce of breath he could force from his lungs, but he knew it was for naught. Braulor wouldn't hear him. Not in this place. Tagan lunged forward, sweeping his arms into a hug, hoping against hope to grab onto something solid.

"Tagan."

The voice was weak and ragged, registering as little more than a whisper. Tagan's flagging hope was renewed. He could feel something in his arms. His heart skipped.

"Tagan. It's me."

A hand tugged his clothes. The voice was clearer this time. A voice he recognized. Yes. It had to be. He opened his eyes expecting exaltation but only found Crenoah looking up at him, a group of sentry's flanking him. Tagan turned his head and found his arms wrapped around his horse's thick neck. He pulled himself away, disappointed but confused at the same time.

"You were dreaming, Tagan." Crenoah was as confused as Tagan looked. They had stopped several minutes ago to rest and the sentry's had helped Crenoah get down. He had watched Tagan nod off earlier and the sentries let him be. It wasn't until Tagan started talking in his sleep that Crenoah felt compelled to wake him. Tagan was talking about Braulor and the Shadowkeeper and who knows where the talk was going to go if he left it. Crenoah wasn't sure who these sentries were or who they served but he didn't want to give them any ideas about keeping them to squeeze for more information. As far as they were concerned, Tagan, Stonjsin and himself were travellers. Nothing more, nothing less. Crenoah was hoping to get out of their clutches as soon as they could to continue their journey.

Tagan looked around. The entire caravan had come to a stop. He wondered how long he had been asleep. "Why did we stop?"

"The horses needed tending." Crenoah kept his answer to the bare minimum and was hoping Tagan would take the hint.

"How long have we been here?" Tagan made to swing his leg over the horse's neck and found he wasn't as completely awake as he thought.

A sentry popped to his side and assisted him down.

Tagan's legs were wobbly and he wondered if his butt would ever not feel like he was in a saddle ever again.

The sentries led Tagan and Crenoah over to a small group of trees and had them sit down. They brought over a little water and some hard bread and left them with it, a pair of sentries taking up watch some ways away, their solemn faces turning back and forth in unison like they were both on some kind of internal timer.

Tagan took a long drink of water, savoring every drop. It was cool and refreshing as it washed down his parched throat. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "So, how long have we been stopped?"

"Not sure. Ten maybe fifteen minutes."

"How long was I asleep?" Tagan couldn't believe he had slept through all the ruckus of the procession coming to a stop.

"I think you drifted off a few minutes before we stopped but I'm not really sure. At first I thought you had grown tired of the ride and were only resting." Crenoah craned his neck around. In part, due to stiffness but he was also trying to gauge if it was safe for he and Tagan to talk.

"I saw, Braulor." Tagan said it flatly as he stared off into the distance as if by looking hard enough he could recreate the scene.

Crenoah, who was about to open his mouth and broach a different subject, was stymied. Stunned. "You saw, Braulor? What do you mean you saw, Braulor?"

"Well." Tagan was still staring out into space, this time trying to remember all the details he could. "I suppose now I was dreaming but at the time it seemed so real."

"What did you see?" Crenoah's planned discussion would have to wait. Any news of Braulor was welcome news to his ears.

"At first I could see, Meyu Kwi. He seemed to be talking to someone but I couldn't see who it was, if anyone. I tried to get his attention but he wouldn't look. When I tried to get closer to him, the scene changed and everything was dark." Tagan shuddered as he remembered the chilling twilight.

"Everything was dark? Were you trapped in a room or cave or something?" Crenoah's brow was wrinkled as he threw out suggestions. He was hoping that given Tagan's ability, he had found Braulor alive and well somewhere and it was a matter of getting to him to set him free.

"No. It was an open area but it was shrouded in mist. Like a dark fog. And there were some kind of beings in the fog. I could see them moving through it. They would leave these odd trails through the fog."

Crenoah frowned. It was sounding less and less like the story was going to go anywhere good.

"Then I spied Braulor. He was off in the distance, walking away from me."

"So, what did you do?"

"I ran after him. I didn't know what else to do. My voice didn't seem to work right and it was the only thing I could think of. I ran right up behind him and when I got close, I could see someone was with him, walking ahead like he was leading him somewhere."

"Who was with him?"

"It was someone Braulor had told me was called Draax." The name clicked as Tagan recalled the scene.

"Draax." Crenoah said it louder than he had intended but he had been surprised. One of the posted guards turned his head a little toward them but only for second and then returned to his ceaseless vigil. Crenoah let out the breath he was holding as silent as a ghost. He was familiar with Draax but Tagan and Braulor had told them at Vjeinka Rise that the Shadowkeeper had used Draax's body and Draax was as good as dead. It didn't make any sense to him but he left it for now, eager to know how the dream ended. "What happened then?"

"I had stopped running but was still right behind him and then it got even darker. As if someone threw a sheet over us. I tried to grab onto Braulor but..." Tagan trailed off remembering how close he had come. "Next thing I knew; you were waking me up."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Crenoah didn't like any part of the story. The darkness. It sounded like a nightmare to Crenoah. If Draax was leading Braulor somewhere, when both of them were either dead or had disappeared, was the stuff a bad dream was made of, not reality. None of it boded well as far as he was concerned but he could tell Tagan still had hope of getting Braulor back alive and he didn't want to tread on that if he could help it. "As you said, Tagan, it was only a dream."

"It seemed so real though." Tagan was sure if the dark blanket hadn't shown up when he was trying to grab Braulor, he would have been able to.

"We have other things we need to talk about, Tagan." Crenoah was trying to get the conversation back to his original topic. Talking of Braulor being still alive was an interesting sidebar but there was little hope in it.

Tagan turned to Crenoah. Crenoah's face was stern and serious. "What?"

Crenoah looked around once more, making sure the sentries were still absorbed in their watch. They seemed far enough away they couldn't easily listen in to what he was about to say. "These guards are with the Dwenar Gliv command."

Tagan looked to the sentry's as if seeing them for the first time. It didn't mean a lot to him if they were from Dwenar Gliv but he could tell from Crenoah's manner this was a serious situation. He turned back to Crenoah and nodded, not knowing what to say.

"They're taking us to the capital city."

Tagan's innocence was showing as he didn't react to this news. "What does that mean?"

"It means, Tagan, they are going to throw us into the prison there. If you thought the jail in Brankin Huoh was bad, from the stories I have heard, it has nothing on the capital city's jail. We likely won't even get a trial. They will execute us for trespassing and that will be that.

With everything that was happening, Tagan hadn't even thought of that possibility. He remembered his time working in the Brankin Huoh prison and couldn't imagine anywhere worse. And he wasn't even a prisoner. He had only toured through delivering food, but that was enough. "What are we going to do? We can't go to prison. What about the Amber Eye?"

"Shshhsshh." Crenoah was urging Tagan to clam up with only his eyes. "We have to figure out how to get out away from this group."

Tagan wrinkled his nose at the thought. Yes, he wanted to get away but with his hands tied and the amount of men with them, it would be impossible. Not to mention that Stonjsin was locked in a carriage with several infantry men between them. And who knew what condition Stonjsin was in. Last time they had seen Stonjsin, he was barely conscious. Tagan turned his head to look at the carriage now housing Stonjsin. The door was wide open. It took a moment for Tagan to register what he was seeing and was about to tell Crenoah when the alarm sounded and sentries ran to the open door. The closest sentry leaned in the open door and then pulled back, shouting for all to hear. "The prisoner is gone."

Chapter 18

Sequil took a step away from Kenok and stood staring at his back. A knife was stuck there, buried up to the hilt. It quivered with every labored breath Kenok took as if it were smug and proud of its accomplishment. Every time Kenok's ribs moved, a trickle of blood found its way through the already coagulated red. His side was awash in it. So much blood, Sequil was amazed Kenok was even still alive. She had never seen such a thing. Two things seemed to happening inside her. Her first thought was she wanted to run. She wanted to hide. She wanted to scream and yell, rant and rave. Sequil was feeling sorry for herself. Her life, everything that had gotten her to this point. Where did it all go wrong? Like her husband's back, a part of her was pierced by the same blade. Not physically of course but mentally. The blade was killing a part of her. The old Sequil washing away like the swath of blood on her husband's side and as it did, the other side of the equation was being revealed. A new Sequil. Tough and strong. Reliable under pressure. The new Sequil was calming her down and frowning at those feelings of helplessness. New Sequil shoved her fears aside like ferns and bramble that were in the way on a trail she was traversing. It was an odd feeling but Sequil could feel her fear abating. She was motivated. Urged on by her newfound bravery she stepped up to Kenok and assessed the wound with a new eye. She wrapped her fingers around the handle and pulled on it very gently. She wasn't trying to remove it; rather she was only trying to ascertain if she could. It seemed to wiggle without restriction so, in all likelihood, it wasn't buried into bone. Sequil's next concern was the knife had buried itself into a vital organ. She could feel the old Sequil trying to come back. Old Sequil was peering over top of the wave of heroism she had ridden to get her to this point. Old Sequil had never been more inviting. Comfortable and already formed it would have easy enough to go back to her. Out here alone with a critically wounded husband, none would have blamed her for failing. But empowered Sequil had gotten a taste of courage and found she liked it. She had been raised like any other woman in Brankin Huoh and felt her role was to defer to her man. To honor him with service and follow his word, no matter how much she disagreed. For some time, this change had been coming. Sequil didn't recognize it before and had chalked it up to being married for so long that she was growing placid in her role and only needed to bear down on her day to day life. But now she could see she wanted more than to be a servant. She wanted more than to wait on Kenok. She wanted to be an equal to Kenok and here was a chance to wipe the slate clean. To step into whom, she wanted to be without any one there to dissuade her or chastise her. Sequil turned her back on those old feelings and took the handle of the knife in her hand once more. Eventually it had to come out. It couldn't stay there forever. She took a breath and pulled the knife. Slick with Kenok's blood, it released from his back with the ease of someone getting into a bath. She looked at the blade and more importantly, the blood on it. It was all same hue of rouge, which in her mind, indicated it was only blood. She had helped slaughter enough cows and chickens to know when internal organs were pierced, their issuance was a different shade from regular blood and there was nothing on this blade to denote anything more than regular blood. Sequil sighed, nodding her head at her apparent good luck. She was about to throw the knife away but stopped, looked at it. This could come in handy, and she placed it on the carriage beside Kenok. She would clean it later. She went to the items they had packed and found the water she and Kenok had put in the wagon earlier. She took one of Kenok's shirts from another bag and ripped a large section of it off, dropping the remainder. She doused the cloth with water and returned to Kenok, wiping the blood from his side in gentle, loving strokes. When she wiped the wound itself, Kenok groaned. It was a mix of pain and relief and it made Sequil feel good, bolstering her new-found confidence. She quickly wiped the blood from the blade she had removed and looked closer at the knife. It was nondescript, gleaming brightly as the sun glanced of its silver surface. It was sharpened on both sides, indicating its main function was for assassination and not kitchen work. Well made, it seemed to balance easily, even in her small hand. She slashed at the air with it in mock defence and attack movements and it still felt comfortable to her. Aside from the fact that she had pulled it from her husband's back, she felt the knife was meant for her hand, which struck her as odd. She had handled many knives and axes in her life but none ever gave her the same feeling as this one. None had given her any feeling to be honest. But this one did. She performed a few more complex moves with the knife against her imaginary attacker before sliding into her belt. The act made her stand up straight and tall, shoulders back. Yes, she could handle this. She bandaged the wound as best she could, made more difficult by the wounds location. It was hard to get a bandage to stay in place. After making Kenok secure on the wagon, she then climbed aboard the horses back. It had waited patiently while she had dealt with Kenok. Cooled down now, it was ready to go again. Sequil snapped the reins and the wagon lurched forward, leaving old Sequil behind her.

Tyhreb furrowed his brow. He didn't recognize what was glinting at him. He had seen much in the way of treasure and gems. Those things he was familiar with and even coveted. He accepted payment in gold when he didn't have anywhere to spend it. He was lured to it by its gleam. It's glitter. It spoke to him on some level he didn't understand but he adored gold nonetheless. And here was this... this... thing. It was glinting at him as well but he had no idea what it was. It wasn't made of gold. He was about to throw it aside, angered that he had wasted precious time dragging this thing out of hiding. He was about to toss it aside and leave but it spoke to him. On par with gold, there was something about this thing that intrigued him and he couldn't bring himself to toss it aside. Tyhreb stared at, trying to figure out what it was and why he felt compelled to keep it. It was pointless he finally decided. He would take it with him and figure the why out later. He couldn't waste any more time. Every second he stood here, Kenok was getting farther and farther away. With a lingering look, Tyhreb reached out a large hand and closed the lid to the box. As it shut, it snapped him out of his spell and he realized he had to get moving if he was going to catch up to Kenok. He scooped up the box and tucked it into his shirt. Looking around he grabbed the first weapon his eyes fell on. It was a small hand axe but it would suit his purposes. Feeling properly armed, Tyhreb was about to ready the horse he found and decided against it. He was sure he could go fast enough on foot and the horse would become a problem later on. He navigated his way out of the stable and back to the front of Kenok's house. It wasn't hard to pick up the trail. The wagon they had taken in their escape left unmistakable marks on the ground. Tyhreb sank to one knee and ran his fingers gently around and inside the ruts as if he could discern all he needed to know from them. He followed the direction they went with his eyes, stopping to focus on the horizon for a minute. He stood up straight and inhaled deeply before taking off like a shot.

Chapter 19

Meyu Kwi stood up straight, his lips compressed in a tight line, drawing a breath through his nose as he did so. They had been watching the mysterious bird approach for many miles. It showed no signs of aggression and Meyu Kwi was curious as soon as it was spotted winging its way toward Ameuralia. In his wildest imaginings, he would've never thought it was Clhla Luth. He never thought Clhla Luth would ever be seen alive again, let alone climbing down from this strange flying beast. It made his blood boil. It made his skin crawl. He wanted to rant and rave. Charge Clhla Luth and tear him apart. But he couldn't. Meyu Kwi was Odign and the Odign had a strict moral code they adhered to. He had to keep his emotions in check. Even for this traitor. "How nice to see you again, Clhla Luth." Meyu Kwi bowed his head in the way of the Odign while giving hand signals behind his back for those under his command to stand firm.

Clhla Luth wasn't surprised at Meyu Kwi's reaction. He knew the ways of the Odign and their tendencies. He had trained to be an Odign himself many, many moons ago so he knew he wouldn't be attacked outright. In a way, it might expedite his mission if he were to have flown in here and openly attacked. But taking such an approach had too many variables. Variables, which could skew his mission in many directions. Clhla Luth was confident but didn't want to play too closely with fire. Not with so much at stake. So, he had to play this cordial game for now while being mindful of the time he was running out of. "Meyu Kwi." He began and returned the bowed head as a gesture of respect. "It has been a long time. I am glad that you remember me."

"You are one who is not easily forgotten, Clhla Luth."

"Too kind, Meyu Kwi. Too kind." Clhla Luth chuckled to himself. He knew not a word uttered so far had been in welcome. He took a step toward the assembled throng in an attempt to gauge the volatility of the situation. Not a single person flinched or changed position. Impressive. The feeling in the area however, took a turn upward. A tic toward open hostility. Clhla Luth could feel it even if no one else could.

It was Meyu Kwi's turn. "You're very brave to return here."

"And why would that be, Meyu Kwi?"

"Are you going to try and tell me that you are not aware of your crimes against Ameuralia?"

"I am not aware of breaking any laws."

Meyu Kwi was beside himself, seething with anger. He was about to open his mouth to remind Clhla Luth of his sins when a young man came running up behind him. The thudding of the young man's feet broke through the iciness of the scene, putting a halt to Meyu Kwi's tirade before it began.

The addition of the young man to the situation made everybody in the clearing grow even more tense as if the young man were a detonator. Clhla Luth's hand twitched as he thought of going for his weapon.

The young man ran up behind Meyu Kwi and leaned in close whispering into his ear. Meyu Kwi hardly moved his head and his eye did not leave Clhla Luth for even a nanosecond.

Clhla Luth studied the messenger. He had never seen the young man before but Clhla Luth could sense the relation between the young man and Meyu Kwi. A brother perhaps? A cousin? Clhla Luth didn't know but the harder he focussed on the young man, the more it became clear to him the boy possessed power. Much in the same way that all Ameuralian's had power, but this young man was different. Ameuralian's all were born of power which they used for good. They had no choice or say in the matter. It was how the power manifested. Every once in awhile though, one was born among them who had the power, but also the choice of how they wanted to wield it. Most didn't know this and those who did, never spoke of it openly. It was a taboo subject and was never addressed. If a person felt different, there was no environment to support it so they reverted to good by default and learned to hide the dark side of themselves. This boy had the choice and wanted to exercise it. Clhla Luth could sense it in his bones. Could see it flecked in the young man's aura like tiger stripes.

"Are you sure?" Meyu Kwi continued to watch Clhla Luth intently but spoke to the runner out of the corner of his mouth.

The young man looked to Clhla Luth, a glitter of inquisitiveness in his eyes. "Yes. I am sure."

Meyu Kwi took another breath, letting it out in a sigh as he squared his jaw before speaking. "It seems you are being requested to meet with the queen."

Clhla Luth smiled, amazed at how sometimes things worked themselves out. In this case, to his benefit. Even though he told the Draepkos otherwise, Clhla Luth came to Ameuralia with nothing in the way of a concrete plan. No advanced ideas of how things would pan out. There was little time for him to draw up a plan and even if he had, so much of his history was entwined with the land here and its people, he was certain that it would all go out the window once he arrived. That didn't mean he wasn't prepared. On the contrary, Clhla Luth had thought it prudent to arm himself as best he could. Not as much with weapons as with the powers he had been growing in working with the Draepkos. Clhla Luth had been developing his magic. He had been exposed to the good side of magic while he had been a citizen in Ameuralia, studying to a high degree but found their approach to be lacking in power. Once he had had a taste of the magic the Draepkos offered he knew it was what he sought. Oppressive and brutal, the dark side of magic the Draepkos wielded was potent and addictive to those who craved dominance over others as Clhla Luth did.

Clhla Luth's only plan to this point was to get here, to Ameuralia, and see how things would unfold. He was ready for anything. A bloodbath if necessary. Only that would cost him time and energy, both of which were in short supply. The queen requesting a meeting with him was almost the best thing that could have happened. If his memory from his days as an Odign were accurate, they would be holding Ehcim in the queen's palace. There was no real dungeon but there was an area where people who broke the few laws Ameuralian's observed. That is where he would find Ehcim as well as the branch. Clhla Luth turned to his steed, placing a hand on the underside of its snout and drawing its eyes to meet his fixed gaze. He could hear the assembly behind shift, a moment of tension as they thought he was up to something. He was, but they would never know. Not yet anyway. He locked minds with the steed and relayed the information he wanted to. Even though he had done this many, many times, Clhla Luth was still not used to it. It felt to him like the steed's soul became a part of his body and he too it's. He could feel the beast breathing. Could feel its heart beating. The simplistic signals to and from its brain. All running concurrent with his own body rhythms'. Although he was getting used to it, he found in unnerving.

The steed gave no impression it understood Clhla Luth or acknowledged him in any way. Once Clhla Luth broke the connection, the mnaiowk continued to stare at him balefully for a moment before dropping its hind end to the ground, followed by its front, curling its legs underneath much in the way a cat would. It laid its long head over his folded forelegs, the bottom of its snout touching the dirt. Satisfied the steed had received his intentions, Clhla Luth turned back to the crowd, addressing Alrei Yqu. "I would be delighted to see, Queen Amhain. It has been long since her exquisite beauty has graced these eyes." Clhla Luth was happy to see the look on Meyu Kwi's face. It was cross a between revulsion and aghast as if someone had startled him right when he was about to vomit. It was not proper etiquette to speak so of the Queen and Clhla Luth had done it on purpose. A little barb to keep Alrei Yqu's resentment up. He was hoping to be able to use that emotion later to his advantage.

"Then let's not keep, Queen Amhain, waiting any longer." Meyu Kwi managed to keep his voice civil and he turned to the assembled guard, giving quick orders to a half-dozen of them who were to stay and guard Clhla Luth's steed. Everybody else he commanded to attention. The onlookers, he bade to return to their activities. There was nothing more to see. He spun on his heel to face Clhla Luth once again and gestured to the path behind him. "You still know the way, I assume?"

"One could not forget, Alrei Yqu." Clhla Luth stepped forward, tentative at first but after a few steps, strode with the same air of confidence he always had. As much as he portrayed otherwise, Clhla Luth was nervous. He tried to deny it to himself but being back in Ameuralia had awoken memories of the good times he enjoyed growing up here. So many of the sights were the same. Although he ignored them, he recognized many a face. As he walked, the bulk of the remaining guard resumed formation and started walking ahead of him, keeping the path clear as if Clhla Luth were royalty.

Alrei Yqu glared at Clhla Luth as he walked past. If his eyes had been able to, they would have burned right through him. He was teeming inside with rage but he knew had to keep it under control. He fell in behind Clhla Luth three steps behind. The runner who had brought the message from the queen at his side. The rest of the guard fell in behind them with quiet precision.

"Why do you think the queen requested to see him?" the runner asked. "Shouldn't we have captured him and been done with it?"

Alrei Yqu continued to stare at Clhla Luth's back. He was walking with such ease and grace, head turning side to side casually as if he belonged here and were welcome. It incited his fury even more. "Queen Amhain knows what she is doing and we shouldn't question her judgment."

"I'm not questioning her judgement, brother. I only find it odd. Clhla Luth has been outlawed for so long and here he strolls right into our hands. An opportunity from the gods, I would say."

"You would say but Queen Amhain has a wider vision than you or I. All we can do is trust that she has a way to deal with Clhla Luth in the appropriate manner, Alrei Yqu."

Chapter 20

Braulor stopped in midstride. His skin was tingling, crawling with anxious energy, while the hair on the back of his neck was teasing itself to full height. He wasn't sure if he was afraid or elated but he knew he hadn't had this feeling since he awoke in Tâ Oandimn. Braulor had the unmistakable feeling he was being followed. He had grown used to the beings in Tâ Oandimn and the way they would approach him but turn away before getting too close as is they were moths afraid of burning their wings. The beings didn't bother him anymore or the feeling of dread emanating from them. This was different. Braulor felt like someone he knew was close at hand. He looked to Draax, who hadn't noticed Braulor had stopped walking and was still merrily charging ahead. Braulor stood still, absorbing the feeling, letting it find its way deep into his core. He was hoping he would find a familiarity with it that he could identify. Something to give away who or what it was, but it only teased at his senses. Maybe this was really all a dream and this was his way of waking up. Braulor felt like it was drawing closer and spun on his heels, holding the staff out in front of him like a shield, hoping if it were an entity meaning to do him harm, the staff would deflect it. Would turn it away but there was nothing to see. He turned his head side to side but could still see only the same inky blackness he and Draax had been navigating for some time now. He couldn't see anything approaching which should make him wary but the feeling was still there. Braulor's heart began to pound wildly like he was in a fight for his life and the feeling intensified to a crescendo. Then everything went another shade darker. How that was possible in this place Braulor didn't understand but the mood changed with it. Where before Braulor felt somewhat comforted in the way having a loved one near would feel, it was replaced with dread in a flash. A menace so powerful it made him cringe and he tightened his grip on the staff, thrusting it out as far as his arm would allow. The dread abated. It hung in the air like a noxious cloud above the ground, hovering like some murderous fog. Braulor knew whatever it was, it was sentient and while it harboured no ill will toward him, it also wouldn't hesitate to do him harm for no reason at all. Rather it would enjoy it like a child enjoys a new toy. But something was holding it at bay. Something was stopping it out of reach, on the fringes of attack, as close as it dared to be.

Braulor looked back and forth and up and down, trying to find an end to the dark but he couldn't find one and settled for looking at its middle. The other entities which had been present were nowhere to be found. Slunk back to whatever recess or fissure they came from but Braulor could sense them not so far off they couldn't see what was happening. They watched from a distance, wishing to flee but like passersby at the scene of an accident couldn't bring themselves to leave, no matter how afraid they were. This unnerving thought caught Braulor's attention. If these other entities felt fear at the arrival of it, this cloud he referred to it as, was a terrifying warning. This being was powerful. Maybe it was his naiveté but Braulor didn't feel scared. Nervous, yes, but he was not scared. If this being was going to cause him harm and it was that powerful, everything Braulor was thinking and feeling at the moment wouldn't be happening. He would already be gone. He was still here so in his mind, he had a chance.

Braulor took a step toward the being and the feeling of dread increased. Doubling in intensity so fast it was like he jumped from one cold pool into another even colder pool. The entity didn't move. It was as if they were in some metaphysical game of chicken and neither side wanted to back down.

Grawton had little difficulty in finding the staff. Its presence stuck out in Tâ Oandimn like rabbit would at an eagle convention. And its signature grew more pronounced the closer he got to it. As he had arrived at the scene though, he could sense something else. Something he hadn't expected and it had thrown him off. A presence full of good and it didn't belong here. It wasn't from this realm, yet somehow it was here and it was advancing on Braulor. Afraid this presence of unknown good was here to take the staff from Tâ Oandimn and out of his reach, Grawton barged his way in front of it and it had disappeared. He had never experienced such a thing in Tâ Oandimn and would have to give his attention to figuring what it was another time. Right now, Grawton was busy sizing up the staff bearer. He wasn't like the usual souls he encountered in Tâ Oandimn. He had solidity to him. But that shouldn't be possible here either. Twice in the last few minutes' anomalies never seen before in Tâ Oandimn occurred and it was causing Grawton no end of consternation.

As he had been observing the being, deciding what to do, it had advanced on him. How brave. If only it knew how terrible his wrath could be, it would have run for its puny little life. He had an inkling of respect for this one. He was so used to the grovelling and snivelling souls in Tâ Oandimn that Grawton was loathe to snuff this being out so quickly. He wasn't even sure if he could, as long as it bore the staff. The staff. It all made sense to Grawton. The staff was the heart of everything happening. Somehow the staff was what brought this being here and was keeping him alive. Grawton was almost giddy. His time here had become routine. Mundane. Souls arrive. He and Karuuk Ul would judge them. Not that there was much judging to do. More so, it was an exercise in the level of punishment they would hand out. From there Grawton would take them and put them to work, such as there was, or get right to business with the punishment. But even that had become boring of late. Run of the mill. Now, here was a challenge. A mouse for the cat to play with and Grawton was ready to play. Grawton stood his ground, not moving. Not budging.

Braulor was still unsure how to proceed. What did this being want? If it could hurt him so badly, why didn't it strike? What was it waiting for? Braulor turned his head again, wondering what had become of Draax. Perhaps Draax had encountered this being before and would know how to deal with it but Draax was nowhere in sight. He spun his back. Even with his attention elsewhere the being hadn't struck. It still hung there, pervasive and dark. Braulor took another step toward the being. He was hoping it would frighten off but all he got in return was a ramping up of dread. Not a doubling as it had been before. This time the feeling went off the charts exponentially and Braulor's legs started to shake. His hands were trembling too but he kept his resolve and stood steadfast.

Grawton was impressed. This puny human showed so much heart. So much bravery. He couldn't help it but as this was a game for him he decided it was time to set some rules. Draw some limits and show this person exactly who he was dealing with. Grawton expanded his presence, surrounding Braulor as if someone had dropped a bowl of darkness over him.

In the span of a millisecond, it happened. Braulor was surrounded, over and around three hundred and sixty degrees. His trembling hands started shaking to join his knees as if he was no longer controlling them. A pall of dread was washing over him, so deep and penetrating he wasn't sure if he would ever be the same. He wanted to run and hide but where would he go? He wanted to crawl under the nearest rock and stay there forever until this feeling passed. Braulor could understand now why those other entities had fled. Unlike himself, they were very aware of the danger this one presented.

Grawton could feel the fear. He could feel the panic welling up inside the staff bearer like a child whose toy had been snatched away. It was taking time for the reaction to build but it was coming. Like the wailing of that same child wanting someone to correct the wrong, so too would the feelings build in this one. The staff bearer was so different from the others here that Grawton could hardly believe how delightful it was. He felt like he was born again. Like he was new to Tâ Oandimn and Karuuk Ul had introduced him to the ways of torturing those being who came to be here. Grawton wanted to lash out. Strike. Release the emotion into the air where he could drink it in. Drink it in and savour it the way an alcoholic enjoys that first drink of the day. But he shouldn't. He remembered the game. If he ended this now, he would have to go back to the humdrum ways of before and he wanted to play with this toy as long as he could. He wanted to know more about the staff bearer Grawton realized. He focussed his energy on the being. He had watched Karuuk Ul draw memories out from those here but had never been taught. Grawton knew it was the only way he could get the information he desperately wanted. He mimicked the movements he watched Karuuk Ul perform. Focussing his presence so hard on the person forcing his way in. Pushing and shoving like he was at some unruly event and had to fight for every square inch. He could feel something. A bonding of their energies. A fusing. Grawton was almost beside himself but forced himself to focus and push harder. He needed to know something he could use against this being. Like weeds being pulled from a garden, memories began to draw up. Silly ones at first. Nothing he cared to see for it reminded him of his own time on earth, which was something he coldly tried to avoid at all costs.

Braulor screamed. Hollered. Cried out in agony, but was frozen with fear. What was happening to him? He couldn't explain what but he knew it was bad. The being had connected with him in some way. Merged with him. To Braulor it felt like a bad headache but deep down somewhere he knew it was much worse. He tried to fight, to resist, but it was useless. He was at this beings' mercy. He waved the staff around in a feeble attempt to break the unseen connection but it didn't seem to be doing much of anything. His head felt like there were two people inside and one was trying to wreck the place. Braulor fell to his knees, his hands clenched to the sides of his head trying to keep it from splitting apart. He could feel the staff digging into the left side of his skull. His mouth opened to scream but he wasn't even sure if anything came out. He fell flat on the ground and was writhing around like a wounded snake. He opened his eyes; sure this was the end and could see Draax. It was hazy and dark but Braulor was sure Draax was running toward him. He had never been so happy to see someone in a long time. Elation shot through him and the being backed off as if Braulor had given him a forceful shove. Only a small reprieve but it was enough. Braulor stormed to his feet. Draax was back now, dancing around the scene, either unable to help or too afraid to help. It looked like Draax was mouthing something but Braulor couldn't hear a thing above the ringing in his ears. Draax stuck his hands out, extending them toward Braulor and then he understood. Braulor gripped the staff with both hands and shoved it toward Draax's hands. A momentary pause as it touched the attacking being and Draax was able to grab it. A bolt shot through the staff, almost shooting Braulor back but he held on with everything he could. The bolt absorbed into Braulor's attacker and in a blink, it was gone, a subtle shriek was left ringing in Braulor's ears and he fell to his knees once more.

Chapter 21

Tagan and Crenoah turned and looked at one another, both thinking the same thing. The prisoner was gone? How could that have happened? The carriage housing Stonjsin had been locked and it had its own contingent of sentries watching it. And the last time Tagan had seen Stonjsin, Stonjsin was in no condition to pull off an escape of any kind, let alone right under the noses of the squad which had captured them. Tagan was dumbfounded. "Stonjsin is gone?"

Crenoah couldn't believe it either and could only shrug back at Tagan, an empty look his reply.

"But how? Stonjsin looked half dead when they loaded him in there."

"I don't know, Tagan." Crenoah was baffled and was sure his face showed it. He felt like he had witnessed something out of this world first hand. Crenoah had known Stonjsin for a long time. Had travelled with him. Fought side by side with him. Drank with him. They confided many of their deepest secrets to one another. Crenoah had witnessed Stonjsin get out of some tricky spots before but this; this was a different story all together. Crenoah couldn't recall a single time they had been in a situation this tough before and even he doubted they would ever see the Greejon clan again. To think Stonjsin had escaped was beyond belief. Stonjsin escaping and leaving him and Tagan behind was unfathomable. There was no way Stonjsin would escape without them.

The second guard charged up the stairs and thrust his head inside the carriage. His shoulders swivelled side to side in a slight fashion, a minor echo of what his head was doing and then he charged back down the stairs, bellowing for all to hear. "The prisoner has escaped."

It was as if everyone had been waiting for confirmation before reacting. After the first guard announced the escaped prisoner, nobody moved. Nobody flinched. Perhaps those closest had been caught in the same web of disbelief as Tagan and Crenoah but the second sentry's announcement was the bucket of cold water everyone seemed to be waiting for. The closest of the sentries sprang into action. Being the highest ranking of them, he called for attention and the grunts formed ranks with lightening precision. Only the sentry guarding Tagan and Crenoah remained steadfast. The rest dropped what they were doing and scurried to position while smoothing uniforms and stowing weapons. Once they were all present the superior barked at one of them. "Fahlir."

A young man stepped forward from the line, chin held high, chest out. "Yes sir."

"Fahlir, report to the captain the prisoner has escaped."

"Yes sir." With a quick nod Fahlir turned and took off like he had been fired from a gun. He ran at full speed, holding down his equipment as best he could lest it fall off, until he disappeared into the distance. The commanding officer watched Fahlir go and then turned to the rest of the assembly. "Everyone's heard, Hweig. The prisoner has escaped. He was in pretty bad condition so he shouldn't have been able to get far. Break off into pairs and do a full sweep." The sentries didn't wait to be dismissed. They had drilled this so many times it was like second nature to them. They found their pair and sped off in different directions like bloodhounds on the scent of rabbit.

Tagan watched the sentry standing guard over them. It seemed he was having some sort of internal struggle. He was following the command to stand fast but he really wanted to join in the search. Tagan could tell it was eating at the young man.

The captain did a small circle where he stood, surveying the directions the pairs had gone, making sure they had all the angles covered. Satisfied, the captain himself charged over to the open carriage and after pausing at the top of the stairs went right inside. For a moment, nothing happened. There was no noise. No sounds of a search being conducted. A strangled cry came from the carriage and pair of hands appeared on either side of the door, knuckles white with strain as he was pulling with all his strength to get away.

Tagan's hope flared. Perhaps Stonjsin had recovered enough to put up fight.

The hands disappeared inside once again, wrenched from doorway as if the body they were connected to had been sucked into some kind of vortex, and this time there was an indication of something going on inside. The carriage shuddered and rocked slightly back and forth. The crunching of wood was easily heard along with the grunts and groans of a fight.

Tagan and Crenoah were still baffled, hoping against hope Stonjsin had miraculously come to life but neither could see how.

Their sentry was pacing on the spot, clenching his jaw and hands in unison. The sounds coming from inside the trailer were hammering into his brain but even still he stood fast. He had been ordered to stay. He couldn't disobey.

A final resounding smack split the air, like someone had dropped a sack of wet cement onto a floor stories below, and the carriage issued one more loud crash before everything went silent.

Tagan, Crenoah and the sentry all watched the entrance to the carriage like it was the birthplace of a god, watching and waiting to see who would emerge. But nobody did. Seconds, maybe minutes ticked by and nobody emerged from the carriage.

The sentry was beside himself with indecision. His superior officer had entered the carriage and after what sounded like two bears fighting inside, had not come back out. He was turning his head so fast from Tagan and Crenoah to the carriage and back his face was almost a blur, like it was in two different places at once. Something clicked in his mind. With no one around to issue orders, he had to take matters into his own hands and as far as he knew, his superior was down and needed assistance. He couldn't disobey coming to his commanding officers aid and it overrode his previous order. He turned and stomped over to Tagan and Crenoah, pushed them to the ground and made sure their bindings were good and tight. With one final glare at them as he found his resolve he barked. "You stay put." His voice was high and squeaky, whether with fear or youth, it didn't matter, he meant business. He then crossed the distance to the trailer at a run, stopping at the bottom of the steps. He had his weapon drawn and stood there, statuesque, as he craned his neck like a baby bird looking for its mother, trying to get a look inside. With timid movements, he climbed the step to the carriage and stuck his head inside.

Tagan was watching intently, wondering what was going to happen. The young man called out. "Captain?"

No answer was returned. No motion came from inside.

The sentry stood still like a statue, one ear toward the carriage, tilting his head in different directions as he tried to pick up the slightest sound. A pain filled groan issued from the carriage. The sentry snapped up straight and cried out. "Captain." and plunged ahead through the door.

The same fighting commotion began anew, the carriage rocking back and forth, as if it were alive. It was like the carriage had become an entity unto itself and was luring in victims. The fighting didn't last nearly as long but ended in nearly the same fashion, with an emphatic crash.

The glade went silent. Tagan and Crenoah felt like were stuck in limbo. They lay still, waiting for something, anything, to happen. It was as if they were trapped in the eye of a storm. The leading edge had gone by, stirring up trouble and they had a short reprieve to gather their wits before the trailing edge came along to finish the job.

Tagan struggled to sit up straight, wanting to get a better look at the carriage the two sentries had entered and not returned. He could hear Crenoah beside him groaning as he did the same. There was nothing more to see sitting up than there was from flat on his back. The carriage stood motionless, the rocking and crashing having ceased as if it were satisfied with what had transpired within. Tagan squinted hard at the carriage. So hard it was like if he looked hard enough he would be able to see right through its sides to reveal what was happening inside.

Crenoah also looked to the carriage but he was savvy enough to know they had a window of opportunity here. A very small window. How it had been granted to him, he didn't really care, he only knew it wasn't going to last forever and he was going to take full advantage of it. "C'mon Tagan. Now is our chance to get out of here." He rolled forward onto his knees and got his feet underneath him and pushed up with his bound hands.

Tagan sat without moving as Crenoah lurched to his feet. So hard and fast were rules engrained in him, he didn't realize what Crenoah was doing. When he did, a part of him felt guilty. Like he was being disobedient for trying to escape. It took a nano second for a higher part of himself to figure out how silly he was being. He copied Crenoah and rolled to his knees, pushing himself to standing position, looking to Crenoah for direction.

Crenoah's first instinct was to get his hands free. Without the use of their hands, escape would be substantially more difficult. He loped to groups of horses nearby, looking among them for a knife or a sword. Anything he could use to get his hands free.

Tagan followed Crenoah at first, but found he couldn't take his mind off of the carriage. As Crenoah went among the horses searching, Tagan wandered toward the carriage. He was still amazed no one had come out. What happened inside? And by whose hand? If it was Stonjsin, why wasn't he coming out to join them in escape? Tagan gulped at the only answer he could think of to that question. Perhaps, already injured, Stonjsin had put up his final fight in dispatching the captain and the sentry. He had bought Tagan and Crenoah escape time with his own life. It wouldn't surprise Tagan at all. In the short time he had come to know Stonjsin, it seemed like the type of thing he would do.

Tagan was at the steps now. At this distance, he could see the carriage was moving. Subtly and quietly, it was shifting in response to persons moving about inside. He looked back to Crenoah. Crenoah had found a sword and was on his knees, with it wedged between his legs sawing at his ropes.

Tagan looked back to the inside of the carriage. It was dark inside but he could feel a presence. Calming and soothing, he knew it was nothing to fear. He moved to place his foot on the lowest step when a head appeared out of the dark recess of the carriage.

Chapter 22

The path from Clhla Luth's landing site in the middle of town to the queen's palace wasn't difficult. In all actuality, it was a very pleasant stroll. It meandered through the city, never for long in a straight line, sweeping past beautiful gardens and wistful ponds. As it was the official way to the queen's palace, it was afforded exquisite detail and landscaping and was designed so as not to present too much of an incline, even though the palace itself was high on a hill. It was in all likelihood the nicest trail in Ameuralia.

Clhla Luth strolled along, head held high, as if he were out for an afternoon walk and nothing more. Several times the men at the front of his escort had to stop and wait for him to catch up. After an entrance such as his, word had spread with the speed of a wildfire as to who had flown into town and the few passersby there were at first had soon swelled to large throngs. They lined the sides of the walkway, craning their necks and ogling Clhla Luth like he was some sort of royalty.

Clhla Luth didn't mind at all. In fact, he was hoping his appearance would cause such a commotion. He wanted to make sure when he made his escape, it would in such a grand fashion it would never be forgotten. It would be written in books and glyphs for aeon to come that it had been he who showed them what was what in this world. That it was he, Clhla Luth, who made them all realize what real power was. Clhla Luth needed to sever his ties once and for all with Ameuralia. Not just sever, but annihilate them. He didn't want his legacy tarnished in any way by being association with Ameuralia.

Clhla Luth slowed many times, without warning, to get a look at some one he hadn't seen in many years, scrutinizing them shrewdly, before moving on. He didn't converse with them. They were curiosities to him now. Sideshows on their way to the big tent. They seemed neutral to him and he to them but he was roiling on the inside with hatred and loathing. He smiled with smug intentions as he went. They didn't know what to make of him. He could see it in their eyes. They looked at him with the same care and compassion they showed any other living thing but they had no idea what he had become. Perhaps they had heard stories of his past but you couldn't tell and it didn't change their feelings. They loved him, cared for him. It was what galled him about his race. They had no idea of the power they possessed or if they did, they chose to squander it on healing and being one with the land. To him, it was weak. Life was meant for conquest and power. For pushing as hard and far as you could for yourself and no-one else's benefit. Clhla Luth stopped once more like a shade trapped by light. He had seen her out of the corner of his eye and before he could stop himself, his head whipped around. At the back of the crowd, standing on a small rise, a woman was standing, watching him. She was hunched over a wooden staff, grasped in a gnarled hand. Her knuckles were knobbly and swollen. A perfect match for the wood of her leaning post. With her other hand, she reached up and pulled the hood of her cloak. She moved in a slow, spastic fashion, struggling to make her hand grip the hem of her hood and pull it back. Her hair fell about her face in long, graceful, swaths. It was white as snow, but not the dull white of the elderly. It was bright with life and vitality, the sun gleaming off of it. She dropped the hood down her back and her face lit up, a smile stretching across her lips, blue eyes dazzling and twinkling. Of all the people Clhla Luth had suspected he might see in Ameuralia, he hadn't once given thought to his mother.

"Clhla Luth." Her voice was croaky from emotion at seeing her son.

A flood of memories poured into Clhla Luth. All the training he had taken from his mother. All the hugs she gave and wounds she'd kissed better. They were forcing themselves upon him and for a moment he wavered. He had thought she may have died. It had been so long since he had seen her but here she was, her presence cutting through the evil persona he had adopted, straight to the little boy she had birthed and loved. For a moment, Clhla Luth thought it would be ok. Ok, if he were to beg for forgiveness and mercy and return to Ameuralia as a citizen. That moment came and went in the time it takes to turn the page of a book. What he wanted for himself was bigger than any of this and he had come too far to stop now.

She tottered toward him, her eyes brimming with tears. The buzzing of the crowd had come to a dead silence. No one was saying anything. Even the breeze seemed to stop, sensing this could be a pivotal moment. The crowd parted, making way for his mother. She walked with surprising spryness. Perhaps she was buoyed by seeing her one and only son. She stopped right at the edge of the path and took another look at him. Her eyes drinking in every detail.

She stepped onto the path toward him, stumping along with her staff as she raised her free hand and placed it gently on his cheek, caressing it with the tenderness a mother reserves for a newborn.

Clhla Luth swallowed hard against the unexpected knot in his throat. Even he couldn't deny the power of the bond they once shared.

"My son, you have returned." Her eyes were alive with delight. Fired with passion.

Clhla Luth stared back at her, his mind reeling with emotion. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close, the smell of her hair releasing a new flood of memories.

She dropped her staff and hugged him back. For that moment, he was her son once more.

But that moment passed. Clhla Luth shoved all those memories down. For good this time. The warmth gone from the scene, he whispered so only she could hear. "I'm sorry, mom. I love you." And then pushed her away and turned up the trail.

Behind him, she wailed. Her heart crushed. She called his name, over and over again. "Clhla Luth. Clhla Luth." but she knew he wasn't coming back.

His name hit him like hammer blows but Clhla Luth walked on, even picking up the pace as he went as if trying to outrun his emotions. The trail curved to the right, around a row of shrubs and Clhla Luth stopped before disappearing behind them. He turned and looked back to where his mother sat on the ground, legs out behind her as she leaned on one hand and reached toward him with the other. She had stopped crying, overwhelmed by heartbreak. A small part of him reacted. Twitched, deep inside his brain. With merciless aggression, he shoved the feeling down, deep into the recesses of his brain, slamming the door shut behind it. As far as he was concerned, he was alone in this world. He turned away from his mother and resumed his march to the palace. Only one final part of my past to let go of, time to get this over with.

The palace eased its way into Clhla Luth's view. The towers were first, followed by ramparts and walls but as the group drew nigh, the rest appeared as if someone were slowly pulling a veil down. It was magnificent to behold. In the intervening years since he was last here, Clhla Luth had forgotten how beautiful it was. Like all the buildings in Ameuralia, the palace didn't look like it had been built by hand or labour. It was more like the palace had been born of the earth and its elements and formed from them at the behest of the universe. The walls shimmered in the daylight, sunlight skimming of its surfaces like a loving embrace. Light reflected out from them but not in jarring or flashing way as it would from a mirror. It was more like the sunlight was welling inside the structure itself and shining out into the world like a beacon. It embraced all those who glanced upon it, calling to them, inviting them to come and join with it. Even Clhla Luth's hardened heart was moved by it grandeur, taking his breath away in awe.

The trail leveled off here and led directly to the main gates of the palace. The path was lined with increasing amounts of foliage. The nearest shrubs were squat but flowy, with broad leaves. Further on were trees, thin ones at first that bent easily under the duress of the slight breeze. Closer to the palace, the trees were broad but not overly tall so as to block the view of the palace. Branches of the trees reached to one another above the trail, branches entwining as if they were holding hands, twisting and twirling leaves into kaleidoscopes of color. Walking through them was as if you were walking into sunrise, every color blazing with life. Even the trail underneath Clhla Luth's feet was different. From the point where the shrubs began, the trail took on a more regal feel. Footfalls were softer, muffled by soft, emerald green grass. Here and there, leaves that had fallen made the path come alive like a green galaxy, shot through with wondrous layers of stars.

The crowd following Clhla Luth had swollen in size but stopped here as if the change in foliage was a demarcation point. A point of change. Not that they weren't welcome to the palace, indeed every citizen was welcome and at most times the palace would be alive with music and artists at work. But if there was official business needing to be tended to, the locals stayed back out of respect.

It grew quiet on the trail, the din of the crowd falling away behind him. The group approaching the palace was quiet. Somber. Clhla Luth had gotten over the sight of the palace and was busy working out the details of how he was going to pull off his plan. He took note of the position of the sun as it popped into view between the tops of the trees. He had to keep track of time as best he could.

The trees and shrub's ended, leaving a few hundred yards to the palace. One might think it was to give an unobstructed view, but even here in Ameuralia, there were thoughts of defense. Maybe a throwback to a different era but the palace was in plain view from here. At the same time, so was anyone approaching. Clhla Luth looked up as he emerged from the cover of the trees, able to take in the whole building now. The palace covered the immediate panoramic and he had to turn his head side to side to see it all. As he swept his gaze across the palace front he was certain he spotted a flow of blonde hair up high in one of the windows, quite close to where the queen would be. As his gaze drifted over the person, they disappeared from view. He let a small smile play at the corner of his mouth. I should be honoured the queen made the effort to see me. Clhla Luth knew she would. He wasn't some standard crook who had been caught stealing. Depending on your point of view, his crimes were far worse than that. Clhla Luth didn't think so but knew many didn't agree. But it wasn't for his crimes the queen wanted to see him in person. It was because of what he represented. To the Queen, there was no finer place in the world than Ameuralia. It was paradise here. Eden. No crime. No war. No murder, only copious quantities of peace and love. It was unthinkable to her that anyone should leave here, let alone someone wanting out so bad they left by choice. It was an insult to the kingdom she was in charge of and she simply must know why. Even with the full power of Lefirte at her disposal her knowledge of dark thoughts was limited by her compassion. By her love. By the purity of her soul. The queen didn't see darkness in anything. To her and the rest of Ameuralia, there was no dark. No shadow. Not the type of shadow caused by the sun. The type of darkness and shadow that made men want to kill. Made them lust for things they didn't have or have a right too. It was a new concept to everyone. The queen wanted to see Clhla Luth so she could find out more about the ideas lurking in the deeper parts of the mind so she may figure out how to stop it before it became widespread.

Clhla Luth was ready now. Ready to unleash what he had learned from the Draepkos and he didn't care who suffered because of it. He wanted to dominate and rule and would do anything to get it. As he was of Ameuralian blood, the queen could still get a sense of what was happening to him, as she could connect to all of her subjects through Lefirte. Clhla Luth had tried to block the connection at first and was able to but it was very taxing mentally. Then once he made contact with the Draepkos, they encouraged him to let the connection be, only to damper it. It would help their plan in the long run they told him. So, he left it alone.

Their group approached the palace. The front gate was wide open and inviting but they stopped anyway as a matter of protocol. The Odign took up positions around Clhla Luth as Meyu Kwi strode past him and disappeared inside. Clhla Luth felt someone beside him and turned to see Meyu Kwi's brother beside him.

Alrei Yqu was staring at Clhla Luth with a mingled look of apprehension and wonder.

"What is it, boy?" Clhla Luth started to snarl at Alrei Yqu but he stopped himself. There was something more there behind the eyes than amazement at Clhla Luth's presence. Clhla Luth could feel a spark of what made him wonder about Ameuralia living inside this boy and decided not to stamp it out.

"Nothing sir." Alrei Yqu turned away, the skin on his face reddening. He didn't realize he had been staring at Clhla Luth and was startled when he was spoken to.

"Sir? You call me, sir?"

"I do, sir."

"Do you know who I am boy?"

"You are Clhla Luth. One of the greatest magic users Ameuralia has ever seen."

Clhla Luth couldn't help but be impressed with the boy's knowledge. He didn't realize his reputation for magic was the stuff of lore in Ameuralia. When he had lived here, he was just one of many magic users. "What is your name, boy?"

Alrei Yqu hesitated. As he had walked up here, Meyu Kwi had told him a few of the tales surrounding Clhla Luth. From what he understood, Clhla Luth was very powerful but wasn't satisfied with the status quo. Thinking there was more to the magic; Clhla Luth had gone insane probing the deeper realms of magic. He had succeeded, finding more than he was ready for and abandoned Ameuralia to live the life of a hermit while chasing his delusions.

"You don't have a name then?"

"I am Alrei Yqu." Alrei Yqu stammered as he stated his name. As nervous as he had been to say it, now that it was out there it didn't seem like a big deal. What did it matter if this hermit knew his name? He denied to himself he wanted to tell him. Wanted to throw out to Clhla Luth to show he wasn't afraid.

"A good name. One I'm sure I will remember for a long time." Clhla Luth looked Alrei Yqu up and down. It was only a name but it gave away so much. If only Alrei Yqu knew, he wouldn't have offered it up so easily. Clhla Luth was sure Alrei Yqu had been advised to not tell him anything but he did anyway. A tip of the iceberg of non-conformity living inside Alrei Yqu. Yes, he would remember this one's name. Clhla Luth turned back to the palace.

Meyu Kwi emerged from the dark of the gate in time to see Clhla Luth and Alrei Yqu engaged in conversation. He had warned Alrei Yqu not to talk to him and was angered at his disobedience. "All clear. We can go straight to the queen's chamber. She is ready for us."

The Odign took up the formation they had used all the way here and marched into the gate, passing by Meyu Kwi as they went.

Meyu Kwi eyed Clhla Luth, eyes narrowed with suspicion as he passed and fell in step with Alrei Yqu. "I told you not to talk to him." he hissed at his brother.

"It's no big deal, brother." Alrei Yqu was incensed by the admonishment but kept his voice neutral. He was old enough to look out for himself. Almost a full Odign now. Why did Meyu Kwi feel like he had to baby him?

"What did he say to you?"

"He only asked my name, Meyu Kwi. My name, no big deal." Alrei Yqu fell silent, fuming as they walked.

Chapter 23

The wagon creaked and groaned, the sounds issuing in the same slow motion as the speed at which they were moving. The horse was beginning to tire once more, plodding along with slow, cautious, foot falls as its head hung low, bobbing side to side as if straining for every step. Sequil could ask no more of it today. The horse had gone above and beyond in aiding their escape. Perhaps it pushed beyond its limits because it knew the danger chasing them. Sequil didn't know. She only knew they had to stop. Dusk was coming and they had been riding straight through most of the day, stopping infrequently so she could re-assess Kenok. His condition hadn't changed. He was still lying face down in the wagon, more or less unresponsive. At each stop, Sequil tried to find food and water for her steed, not concerned for herself. That had been a mistake. Now she was parched, her lips dry and wind burnt. Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton balls. She wished she had found something to assuage her rumbling stomach but she hadn't wanted to stop long enough to find nourishment for herself. Fuel for the horse had been her mantra. She looked to the sky and could tell from the first glimmer of tiny stars emerging through the hazy dusk, night wasn't far off. She wasn't going to have a choice soon. The movement of the moon and sun was going to decide for her. Sequil returned her gaze ahead and decided she had better start keeping her eyes open for somewhere she could hole up for the night. She didn't relish the thought of having to sleep out in the wilderness, alone for the night. New Sequil was starting to waver and she steeled herself against the thoughts of helplessness trying to find a foothold in her thought processes but there was no going back now. Even if she wanted to, she was on her own. She would have to figure out how to deal with it.

They rode on in silence, the odd noise coming from the wagon Sequil's only company. She was sweeping her head side to side in the search for a safe haven but eventually she synchronized with the horse's cadence like some weird hypnotic metronome. Her eyelids drooped, her head starting to nod. It drifted down once, and she bobbed back up. Again, her head drooped and this time her eyes stayed shut longer before she sprang up. She snapped to, sitting up straight and shook her head to clear the drowsiness. As her head was sinking for a third time she saw it, a figure on the trail ahead of her. Her head snapped up and eyes opened wide as she pulled hard on the reins. The horse came to stop, the din of the carriage fading. Sequil's heart was pounding and she searched the path ahead of her for the person. The figure was so close she should have run right into whomever it was but there was nobody there now. Sequil squinted hard, looking into the gloomy dark but it was to no avail. There was nobody there. I must have been seeing things. She made to snap the reins again and move on when Kenok wailed. Her head whipped around in shock. Kenok hadn't so much as twitched in hours and all of a sudden this noise? Sequil stared at Kenok's form on the carriage, looking to see if he had moved. She thought perhaps the motion of the carriage coming to a stop had made him shift or they had hit some bump her saddle-sore backside didn't register but he was still lying in the same position as when she had last attended to him. She closed her eyes and sighed. I must be weary. There was...Sequil didn't finish that thought when Kenok wailed again.

"Ohhhhh."

It was the noise of someone in deep distress and Sequil didn't wait for confirmation of any sort the noise had in fact come from Kenok. She knew it did. She could feel it the pit of her sinking stomach. Dropping the reins, she spun in the seat and launched herself from it with her two hands, landing on the ground with a stumpy oof, her legs feeling wooden from sitting for so long. As she approached Kenok, she was stuck between emotions. Part of her was elated at the idea of her husband regaining consciousness; while another part of her was worried Kenok had begun to stir because his condition was worsening. If the latter was the case, Sequil didn't know what she could do, if anything. If Kenok's condition was getting worse, out here, her only course of action may be to watch him die. Her stomach lurched as the idea of Kenok dying shot through her, deflating her like a pin to the confident balloon she had been riding. Sequil was right beside him and could see his chest heaving as his lungs worked. She reached out and placed her hand on his back. It was still warm to the touch.

"Sequil." It was a whispery, groan that sounded like it came from unseen depths. Like the last reverberation of an echo, it hung in the air before its energy was spent and faded into nothingness.

Sequil jumped at the use of her name. She leaned in close to Kenok. "Yes dear." Her throat was so tight; she was amazed any sound came out at all.

"Sequil." Kenok's voice sounded stronger this time, but not by much. "I can't see you."

"I'm right here, Kenok. I'm right beside you." Sequil slid her hand up and down his back in tiny, loving strokes to let him know she was there. Her motions were delicate and precise like she was handling fragile glass. She angled her head so her face was right in any view Kenok might have.

"Sequil." Kenok's body wracked, a spasm born of pain but not of the physical kind. An emotional wound was taking its toll.

Sequil gulped hard, her eyes welling with tears, her hand starting to shake. She didn't know what was going on. "It's ok, Kenok. You've been hurt. Don't struggle to much, you'll only make yourself weaker."

Kenok's spasm stopped, his breathing heavy and ragged. "Sequil. I'm sorry."

Sequil was confused. Why was he sorry? What was he talking about? "It's going to be ok, Kenok. I'm going to get you to help. No need to be sorry."

Kenok's body spasmed once more. "So sorry." It was almost inaudible, trailing off like a breath of someone exhausted and then he went limp.

Sequil watched in horror. Her world was smashing apart. Exploding into thousands of pieces. It felt like a meteor had careened into her, blasting a crater into her heart and demolishing her world into shards. "Kenok." She screamed his name with every last ounce of breath and urgency she could muster as if the very act would bring him back to life. Kenok lay there. Still. Unmoving. Sequil felt like she was going to throw up. Her head started spinning and her once wooden legs felt like they were now made of mud. She started to fall, watching as her hand slid away from her husband's back. She wanted to stop it but it was out of her control. Her focus was becoming blurred, her breath coming in halting, uneven bursts as if she had forgotten how to breathe. She was falling, falling. But she stopped before landing on the ground. Her head swimming, she looked down to see a pair of arms that didn't belong to her poking out from under her armpits, the aged hands clenched in fists. She spun her head back. A wizened face looked down at Sequil, eyes filled with concern. Sequil wondered if this was an angel, come to take her to another land. She was relieved in a way. If it was an angel came to take her away, then she would be with Kenok once more.

The concerned eyes looked to Kenok at the very moment Sequil thought of him. It must be an angel; she can read my mind. Sequil smiled as she felt consciousness sliding away from her. It felt like someone pulling a sheet from her as she slept. Sequil's eyes drifted back to her and her angel smiled back. A small, wry smile, filled with a reassurance. "You're going to be all right, dearie. Uldarra's got you."

Chapter 24

Now more than ever, Braulor knew the staff was how he got to Tâ Oandimn. He also knew the staff was what was keeping him alive. He could feel his grip on it loosening and instinctively he redoubled his effort out, squeezing it hard with both hands. At the other end, Draax was still holding the staff in his hand, looking down at it inquisitively like he had captured a butterfly and didn't know what to do with it. Braulor watched for a moment and felt connected to Draax in a deeper way. It was as if he could see inside Draax. Memories of a young Draax drifted up in Braulor's brain. Draax was getting beaten. Not a light spanking that would accompany breaking a rule. It was an all-out beat down. Braulor couldn't see Draax's attacker but knew there was a familiarity between them. Draax cowered on the ground crying and begging for forgiveness but none came. Braulor shook his head and looked to Draax. The memory must have awoken in Draax as well as his eyes were welling with tears, the playful look he usually bore was gone. Draax looked at Braulor and a moment of awkwardness passed before Draax shoved the staff away and looked down.

Braulor pulled the staff toward him and made to stand up. By the time he had his feet underneath him; Draax was back to normal, bouncing happily on his feet.

"Who or what was that, Draax?"

Draax's demeanor shifted but he stayed upbeat. "That was who brought me here."

Braulor was inferring to the memory of Draax being beaten but played along with Draax's line of thinking. He could tell Draax didn't want to talk about it. "Oh. What do you mean, that was who brought you here?"

"Well." Draax paused, perplexed by the question and frowned as he thought. "He brought me out here." And he splayed his hands out, palms up to indicate where they were standing.

"Ok. He brought you out here. How did you get here?" Braulor was sensing a glimmer of hope, if that being had brought Draax out here, that meant they came from somewhere. And to Braulor, if that was where Draax got here from, then it would also be a way for him to get out.

Draax stopped bouncing on his feet as he mulled over the question. "I don't really know how we got here. I only remember him leaving me there."

"Where did he leave you?"

"I don't know what it's called, but I can show you. Take you there if you like?"

Braulor couldn't believe it. After everything they had been through, he was finally making some headway. It felt like he was actually getting somewhere. "I would like it if you could take me there."

Draax was happy again, his face stretching into a warm smile, his eyes lighting up. "Then follow me, mister." Draax walked a few steps away and turned, waiting for Braulor.

Braulor fell in step beside Draax but he couldn't shake the image of Draax being beaten. He wanted to ask Draax about it again but figured he would have to wait. Draax had already dodged the question once. It was too soon to ask again. Braulor was more concerned about that being catching him unaware again. He knew there was some sort of connection between Draax and the being. He pondered over how it reacted when Draax returned to the struggle he was having with it. It was as if Draax was some sort of talisman or something the being didn't want anything to do with. Braulor decided he didn't want Draax getting out of his reach again and budged even closer to him.

Braulor and Draax maintained silence as they walked for quite some time. Draax, seemingly forgetting the incident earlier, was happy and humming as they walked. Braulor had time to mull over the situation and gather himself after the attack. He didn't feel physically drained, more mentally, as if he had been thinking about some intense problem all day. He wondered about Tâ Oandimn and why it was he didn't feel hungry or tired and how it was all tied to the staff. Where did the staff come from? What was its power? The thoughts swirled and swirled but no answer was forthcoming. "You don't know anything about that being?" Braulor broke the silence as a way to move his mind away from the questions he had about the staff.

Grawton watched the scene from a distance. Braulor and Draax remained connected by the staff for a long moment after he had made his escape. Grawton could sense a change in the emotion of the scene. He could feel there was something going on between them but he didn't know what. It had to do with the staff, of that he was certain. But in what way? How did it work? It was adding to his disbelief. To the shaking of his world. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt so many things at once; he didn't even know where to start. The most bothersome turn of events was something he didn't expect. Something he didn't ever think he would feel again, but here it was. It had attacked him unexpectedly, shooting through him when Draax had come back and grabbed the other end of the staff. Pain. Actual physical pain.

He shouldn't be so surprised. Pain had been a part of Grawton's life from the very start. His oldest memories involved abuse and suffering which should never have to be endured by anyone. Not pain of the physical kind. Yes, there was much of that inflicted on him but he learned how to shunt the pain of physical attacks aside. How to take each punch or kick or strike without batting an eye. Grawton was so good at hiding the effects of physical pain he wouldn't even bat an eye to it after a while. It was the mental pain that drove him to become the person he had grown up to be.

His father was a tyrant, taking his anger and rage out on Grawton and Grawton's brothers and sisters every chance he could. If they were lucky. Being the youngest, the pecking order had been established long before Grawton came to be in the world. He didn't know any other way. He grew up watching his father beat his siblings without mercy. Without a care in the world for anything, except inflicting his emotions onto his progeny. He would strap them. Tie them up and burn them with pokers from the fire. More than once Grawton watched as his father forced his sisters or brothers to perform deviant acts on one another or on his father. At first Grawton wondered why he was being spared the same treatment and as if thinking of it invoked some sort of spell, within days his father begun the same regimen with Grawton. Grawton had become so desensitised to it by that time, when it started to happen to him he actually felt a little relieved. Relieved, he finally felt like he was one of the family. In an odd sort of way, when he was left out he felt that his brothers and sisters resented him for it. Now that he was a part of it, he felt like he belonged, like he shared in their kinship. The attacks didn't happen with the same severity at first. It took time for his father to ramp up the intensity as if he were acclimatizing Grawton to it. But while the others cowered and begged for mercy at his father's hands, he never did. Grawton was like a pain savant. He took each attack with a disconnect, as is he was out of his body, watching it happen. He would watch his father's every move, studying the way his eyes changed when he was about to attack. The way his father's nostrils would flare with each strike as if a small smile were playing at the edges of his mouth. The way his father would stand over his chosen victim, watching them beg and cry out in pain and misery, right before he delivered one final blow. A parting shot, after which his father would disappear for hours. When he returned home, they were expected to act like nothing had happened. Which was easy enough to do as, anything you said or did could set him off again and nobody wanted that. Grawton would lay there after each attack, analyzing it. Running over it blow by blow in his head and noting what hurt most or if there were certain parts of the body more sensitive than others. It was like he was a purveyor of pain and was writing an encyclopedia on the subject.

Grawton never knew why his dad was the way he was. He accepted it was the way things were and there was nothing he could do about it. He wondered if it was because his mom left them all. It wasn't how it really happened but it's how Grawton justified it in his brain. His father's rage wasn't reserved for his children. Grawton had seen his mom try to come to their defence more than once and that only resulted in father's wrath turning on her. One day his father dragged his mother out from the house by her hair and they never saw her again. He had been so young, he thought father had thrown her out and instead of coming back to save them, she abandoned them.

Grawton grew bigger and stronger, while his dad was aging and becoming slow. His father turned more to drowning himself with alcohol than anything else and the attacks came with less and less frequency. When they did happen, his father's heart didn't seem to be in it anymore. He was attacking out of habit and not as a release for his rage. Grawton grew disappointed with his father. He felt sad there were no more lessons he could learn at the end of his father's fists. It was time for him to go.

One day, after running out of drink his father went on a rant and began attacking everybody within arm's reach. His father was slapping Grawton's brother and his brother was limp in his father's hands, unresponsive even though the blows were nowhere near savage. It was like his dad wanted someone to fight back and something snapped inside Grawton. Grawton was minding his own business at the time but stopped what he was doing to watch. Grawton never understood why he did it. He felt no love for any of his siblings. They were co-creators of his world and that's all. He was saddened to see the shell of a man his father had become. He got up like he was in a trance and walked toward his dad, picking up one of his father's favorite iron pokers as he walked. Grawton stood for a minute, sizing up the situation. His father noticed Grawton and let go of his brother and turned to face him. "You're going to have a go at me?" he sneered. His father's bloodshot eyes were full of hate and he stood to his full height on wobbling legs. It looked like someone was moving the ground underneath his father and he struggled to remain standing.

Grawton didn't even respond. Instinct from years of watching and absorbing the attacks welled up within him and he struck. Like a lightning flash, he landed the poker right along his father's jaw line and sent him tumbling across the room. His father wasn't about to go down easy and he bounded up, almost happy someone had stood up to him and he charged like a bull elephant, tackling Grawton and dragging him to the floor. His father landed on top of him and came up raining down blows. Grawton only looked up at him, his face absorbing each punch. The influence of adrenalin and alcohol wore off fast and his dad's strength began to wane. His strikes grew less and less effective. His father stopped altogether, gasping for breath. Grawton didn't waste the moment and flipped his father off and assumed the same position and rained down blows of his own. Potent and deadly, Grawton's strikes landed with the collective ferocity of his siblings. It was as if his fists were laser guided past his father's defence to land flush on cheekbones and eye sockets. His father was unconscious after the fourth blow but Grawton didn't stop. He kept going until his father's face was unrecognizable. A pulpy mass resembling something you would find on a slaughterhouse floor. Then he got up. His hands were throbbing, possibly broken, but Grawton didn't feel anything. No remorse. Not anger. Not happiness. He only knew that his father's time was over. Grawton was free to go. He looked at his siblings. They looked at him and then to their father's lifeless body. None could believe what had happened and they sat there like cattle would if the gate to their pen opened accidentally.

Grawton went to where his things were and bundled them up carefully, taking them outside. He came back inside the shack and marched right to the fireplace. He kicked all the burning wood out of the fire, into the main room. The house was so dry; the flames took immediately, as if they had found the best place in the world. Without looking back, Grawton walked out of the shack forever, never once looking back. He never knew if his family got out or not. He didn't care.

Grawton hadn't thought about that memory in such a long time he wasn't even sure it was his. He was stunned. And it was all because of the staff. He had to have it.

Chapter 25

Clhla Luth gave each guard an appraising look as he entered the palace. He wasn't looking to demean anyone or try and employ some sort of menacing tactic. He was keeping a mental record of everyone standing between him and the way out. Clhla Luth was cataloging every face with what weapons they had and how many of them. Which side they wore their most powerful weapons on. Clhla Luth was savvy enough to know when the fighting began his plans would most likely be out the window and he would have to improvise and one never knew when the information he was collecting would come in handy. He counted more guards as he and his entourage marched through long corridors and hallways. Up flights of stairs and across promenades they marched like some strange human leviathan, snaking its way through rabbit holes looking for a meal. Only in this case the meal was Clhla Luth.

If the palace exterior was grand the interior could only be described as magnificent, an architectural wonder of natural materials. Stone stairs and walkways burnished to the smoothness of glass and arrayed with every color imaginable. It was as if they were walking on a rainbow. The walls were the same, only the striations in the rock were teased into breathtaking works of art. Murals and carvings capturing beautiful moments of Ameuralian history. They were not crudely etched into the stone. More they were put there by design as the rock was setting from liquid to solid. As if the walls weren't big enough to house the complete stories they were trying to tell, the murals carried on into the ceiling. They depicted scenes from the early years and told the stories of Ameuralian's early years as it had been relayed through the generation past. Some were floral reliefs but most were of actual events that took place many ages ago and lived on here in the palace like it was a tome keeping history alive. Clhla Luth had always admired the murals when he was a welcome guest. Now they only served to remind him of the life he was trying to sever from his own history. He smirked at them. When this is over, will they paint what I have done?

The procession came to stop in front of large double doors. The guards posted on either side of the doors pulled them open and nodded to those at the front of the line and they started marching again. Once over the threshold of the door, Clhla Luth found himself in the queen's sitting room, reserved for the day to day business of being queen. Not wanting to take away from the luxury of the palace, the queen's chambers were modestly appointed. The murals continued here, working their way all the up the tower walls and ending at a stained-glass canopy. The stained glass was worked with meticulous precision. A single line could not be seen between any of the panes of glass. It was like it was one complete piece of glass and it told the story of how Ameuralia came to be. Light from it fell down like a waterfall, drenching everything below with warm, dazzling colours. In the middle of the room was the queen's throne, raised high on its dais. Facing the throne was a half circle table, appointed with chairs for those addressing the queen. Clhla Luth knew the routine here but waited to be directed to his chair. He didn't want to agitate anybody or give reason for anybody to be on edge. He needed them to think he was going to be a good little boy. He slid into his chair and was flanked right away with Meyu Kwi to his left and Alrei Yqu to his right. The rest of the guards took up standing positions behind them and at various points around the room. Clhla Luth could hear commotion in the room behind the chamber, where the queen was undoubtedly readying herself. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, his hands resting in his lap. To everyone there it would appear Clhla Luth was resting his eyes perhaps, or readying to beg forgiveness at the queen's feet. In reality, he was doing neither. Clhla Luth was reaching out with his mind to his steed, making sure he could still do it from this distance. Their minds connected for a fleeting moment. Enough to let Clhla Luth know he could connect with the Mnaiowk and he let out the breath he was holding. Almost time.

Behind the queen's throne a door opened. It was noiseless yet unmistakable as the ambient energy in the room changed as if someone had thrown a switch. Apprehensive tension was replaced with a heady optimism, like the world was new, leaving all and any options available. Footsteps could be heard ascending unseen stairs. The padding was soft and delicate as if the feet didn't want to touch the ground for too long.

Clhla Luth looked around the room. If he were looking for a time to enact a violent escape, now would be the time. The assembled guards' attention was focussed on the throne and beyond. Meyu Kwi and Alrei Yqu's attention was also absorbed in the approaching person. Clhla Luth shook his head. Yes, it was a perfect opportunity to strike but it wasn't the right time. Not yet.

"The queen wishes to thank those who have come to join her counsel."

Clhla Luth turned his head back to the throne. The queen's personal attendant was standing astride the grand chair, hands clasped, looking out at the guests. Meyu Kwi and the others bowed their heads, murmuring thank you's of their own in reply.

The attendant swept down the few stairs toward the half-moon table with the same tender steps. From right to left she swept along the table, extending a hand and touching each of those seated with a gentle caress on the head, whispering a soft prayer as she went. When she came to Clhla Luth, she hesitated. As he hadn't bowed his head, she was uncertain what to do but reached out and touched his forehead anyway. Clhla Luth felt a warmth where her fingers connected to his skin which began to radiate outward in slow pulses as waves would after a rock was dropped in a pool. Clhla Luth enjoyed the feeling for a moment. A brief bit of brevity and compassion taking hold. He focussed his will and put an end to the feeling as he recognized what it was.

The queen's attendant finished her sweep of the seated guests and returned to her spot beside the throne, clasping her hands together in front of her chest once again. She closed her eyes and began to sing. The notes were sweet and gentle. Tones so delicate, her mouth looked as if it were motionless as they were formed. The singing was so soft, one wouldn't have thought it was singing at first, mistaking it perhaps for distant birdsong. There was no mistaking the effects however. The sound stole through the room, chasing back any negativity like the sun stamping out darkness. The singing was joined in short order with hand and head movements, intensifying the effect.

Clhla Luth gritted his teeth as if he were under attack. Grimacing as each note of the attendants singing assailed him, striking him not unlike blows from a fist. To the others in the room it was a sweet connection and they exalted in it. To Clhla Luth, it was like someone was torturing him and he had to work hard to keep from cracking. There was a part of him struggling to connect with music. Like a baby bird looking for food from its mother, some section of his brain was straining to join devour the sweetness. To consume the joy and the love as if it were the finest meal in the world. Clhla Luth was merciless in his expunging, his eradication. He stomped on that part of himself as if it were a weed in a prize-winning garden.

Clhla Luth looked up as the singing stopped. The attendant had bowed her head and re-clasped her hand once more. She raised her head, turned on her heel and disappeared down the stairs behind the throne. Clhla Luth licked his lips with nervous tension. The song was to clear the room, to banish any evil or malice so as to not be in the queen's presence. Clhla Luth knew the attendant had gone to tell the queen they were ready for her and that she would be joining them shortly. He also knew he could expect more of the same when the queen did join them. The queen didn't sing or anything so overt but she was powerful regardless. She would use her mind to try and waylay his plans. To sidetrack Clhla Luth and hope to lure him back to Ameuralia. Use her wily skills to try and wrest from him why he had returned. Clhla Luth had to be ready.

The attendant returned to the top of the steps, standing sideways to them as she looked back from where she had come. "Queen Amhain Ghra."

The breath went out of the room. Clhla Luth couldn't see the queen but he could feel her presence getting closer, like some orb of profound love and wisdom coming around in its orbit. The queen was drawing nigh and anxiety was welling up in him. Like bile sneaking up his esophagus before vomiting, nervousness was taking over his senses. Clhla Luth had forgotten how powerful the queen was and gulped in spite of himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. His eyes were closed for nary a second or two and when he opened them, the queen was there looking down at him. She was sitting on her thrown as if she had been there the whole time, deciding at long last to make herself visible to them. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders, caressing robes of violet. Her hazel eyes were penetrating and engaging, drawing you in with their fierce electricity. They fronted an alive mind, constantly at work and ceaseless in pursuit of perfection. Her robes were neither gaudy nor expressive of her stature. In fact, her attendant's clothes were more regal than her own but she didn't need them to be. Queen Amhain Ghra exuded a power which commanded respect. An ease with which she interacted with people, filled them with her reverence. She didn't need to flashy or showy clothes to gain respect. She commanded it without demanding it.

Clhla Luth returned her gaze with an undaunted stare of his own. He wanted her to know he didn't fear her but he didn't want to give away too much either. Queen Amhain Ghra was wise and just and Clhla Luth didn't know how much she had grown in his absence.

Queen Amhain took in the scene a moment longer and then turned toward her attendant and nodded, adding a delicate smile. The attendant returned both the smile and the nod and retreated down the steps behind the queen's throne. Queen Amhain watched the attendant retreat down the stairs to the antechamber behind the room before returning her attention to the room.

"Clhla Luth." Queen Amhain's voice was similar to the attendant's singing. It was so rich and filled with love it almost made Clhla Luth ill on the spot.

"Queen Amhain." He didn't bother to hide the disdain he was feeling for her, drawing the ire of Meyu Kwi and Alrei Yqu. Their heads whipped around so fast one would think he had uttered a curse word.

"It's ok, Meyu Kwi. I expected nothing less." Queen Amhain smiled down at them all, her hand out toward Meyu Kwi in a calming gesture, urging him to remain seated. As much as Clhla Luth tried to suppress it, she could feel a spark of good in there. She needed to draw that spark out. Nurture it. Clhla Luth had become powerful and she knew if she could get him to see the light, he could yet do much good for Ameuralia. "I didn't think we would ever see you again, Clhla Luth."

"Nor I you, Queen Amhain." Clhla Luth wanted to skip the formalities but a subtle game was being played. Much like a game of chess, he had to take his time and think through his answers to position himself in the best way possible. It was imposing on his time but he didn't have a choice. If he were rash, he may find himself somewhere he didn't to be. Or worse, he would be leaving without what he came for.

Queen Amhain studied Clhla Luth, deciding where to take this conversation. She wanted to discover what he had been doing. As powerful as she was, her power was finite, limited by the nature of Lefirte. She seized on the obvious, choosing to try and build trust. "You have been busy, Clhla Luth. Solitude has done you well."

"One does not need Ameuralia to succeed, Queen Amhain."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. In fact, I would go so far as to say being a part of the collective hinders people's progress." Clhla Luth was growing impatient. He was trying to stick to the game plan but he needed to get out of here. He could 'feel' Ameuralia. Like some parasite trying to invade a new host, tendrils of love and goodness were probing at his senses, looking for weakness. He didn't know how much longer he could stand it.

Queen Amhain's mouth drew shut into a thin line. She wasn't angry. It was because Clhla Luth was resisting her. He had been out of Ameuralia for so long now; she no longer felt a part of him. As if he had banished every ounce of their way from his system in exorcist fashion. She was giving up hope on turning Clhla Luth. "Why would you say that, Clhla Luth? Together we accomplish much. Support comes from and is given to any and all who need it. How does that hinder progress?"

"Because people grow docile. Apathetic. With a lack of firm direction and leadership, real progress dies. We get nowhere because we're so busy caring for the less fortunate and the weak, the rest of us stagnate." Clhla Luth felt better being able to interject a spike of darkness into the heart of the Queen. She was the epitome of everything he had grown to despise.

A prolonged silence fell on the room as Queen Amhain and Clhla Luth stared at one another. Queen Amhain broke the silence. "I see we aren't going to get anywhere like this Clhla Luth. As I said earlier, why have you returned to Ameuralia?"

"You have something that belongs to me. I want it back."

"Ah, yes. The one we captured trying to steal a piece of Lefirte." As she said it, her attendant returned, marching up behind the throne, her face solemn and sad. The attendant came nigh to the queen's side and placed a pillow on the queen's lap, a silver blanket concealing what rested below. With a pained expression, the attendant removed the blanket, easing it away with an even motion, revealing the affected limb of the tree. Those assembled gasped in awe, holding their breath as if they were taking precious oxygen away from the branch.

Queen Amhain could feel a shift in the proceedings. As much as Clhla Luth wanted out of Ameuralia, he wouldn't go anywhere until he had his servant back. To that end, she now had some leverage and she ran her fingertips along the branch like she was consoling a child. "Ehcim, I believe is his name. What makes you think he is your possession?"

Clhla Luth also sensed the dynamics shift and he didn't like it. He knew it would happen but he still didn't like it. "He swore his allegiance to me and that makes him mine."

"Perhaps he no longer wishes to serve you and has requested asylum here in Ameuralia."

Clhla Luth's blood boiled. He was outraged. Livid. He hadn't expected anything like this. He calmed down and thought about it. Queen Amhain could be lying but that would be so out of character even Clhla Luth would find it hard to believe. Ehcim would never betray him. Would he? Clhla Luth was tough on Ehcim, sure, but enough to warrant a betrayal? He wouldn't put it past Ehcim to do something to save his own skin. He sat silent and motionless, reeling in his anger, getting it under control before he answered, his tones measured and even. "Ehcim pledged to serve me, forsaking all others. He would never turn his back on me, especially to be part of your flock." The last word was venomous and hateful.

Queen Amhain raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. Her ruse had gotten more of a rise than she thought. It was obvious Clhla Luth would suffer no challenge to his rule. "I see no reason to release him to you. There is no greater wrong Ehcim could have perpetrated than to cut a branch from Lefirte." Her voice cracked at the mere thought as if she had been physically struck.

"I demand you return him to me right now." Clhla Luth shot out of his seat as he slammed his hand on the table, control of his anger slipping.

Meyu Kwi and Alrei Yqu's hands were on Clhla Luth in an instant, restraining him but Clhla Luth had no intention of attacking the Queen, to do so would ruin his plans altogether. He knew there was no way he could fight his way out of this room. He allowed them to guide him back into his chair as he continued to seethe.

Queen Amhain was shocked by the display. She had never seen anything like it and it disturbed her to the core. She motioned to one of the guards and he disappeared behind the throne. "You may see Ehcim, say what you need to say, but he is staying in Ameuralia."

Clhla Luth didn't respond. His mind was already elsewhere. As soon as the queen made motion to the guard he swung into action, connecting with the mnaiowk. The mnaiowk's mind was limited but its heart was true towards Clhla Luth's desires. The steed sprang to life. Through its eyes, Clhla Luth could see the gathered crowd; stiffen in surprise, but remaining where they were feeling safe in Ameuralia. They would have run if they knew what was coming next. The steed gathered itself up to full height, its spiny neck stretching up toward the sky. For a moment, nothing moved. The crowd watched, amazed and enthralled, never having seen such a thing before. A few of the guards on hand had drawn weapons but held them down, unprepared.

The guard returned from behind the queen's throne. The tap of footsteps drew Clhla Luth's attention. The guard was holding Ehcim by the arm, above the elbow, guiding him as Ehcim's hands were bound.

Ehcim was overjoyed to see Clhla Luth but he made no motion or gesture to let on so. He looked to Clhla Luth, who only returned a fiery glare, before casting his gaze to the floor like he was feeling remorseful.

"What have you to say to your servant, Clhla Luth?" Queen Amhain was aware once more of an energy shift but it was moving toward something she didn't recognize or have any frame of reference for. It was raw and palpable but she could feel the anger it was tinged with and it frightened her.

"I have only this to say, Queen Amhain." Clhla Luth let his attention shift to the mnaiowk. It was standing at full height, motionless as it surveyed the crowd. Calm like a bomb about to go off. It too could feel a change in energy and loved every second of it. With great difficulty, it was holding back, restraining itself waiting for Clhla Luth's command.

"Now." Clhla Luth's voice dropped two or three octaves as he said it, the scourge of Draepkos pouring into his soul like a needle would spike a vein and deliver its evil. It spewed out from him in every direction like a splash. Before the guards could react, Clhla Luth was out of his chair and disarmed the closest one, running him through with his own sword. He withdrew the sword by letting the body fall away from him and he looked up at Queen Amhain.

Queen Amhain was frozen in place, her usual command of every situation gone. Evaporated like a pat of butter in a hot pan. She opened her mouth to say something but couldn't.

At Clhla Luth's command Ehcim attacked his escort, spinning around with lightning fast efficiency, getting behind the guard and looping his tied hands over the guard's head, strangling him.

Meyu Kwi hurdled over the table, running to the queen's throne as he bellowed at the attendant to go for help. He spun around to face Clhla Luth. Clhla Luth was crazed. His eyes were yellow and narrow, the pupil's mere slits as he glared up he and the Queen. "Alrei Yqu, don't."

Alrei Yqu sprang out of his chair and watched with horror as the guards' body slumped to the floor, blood gushing from his wound and before he could control himself, was running right at Clhla Luth.

Clhla Luth turned his gaze on Alrei Yqu and Alrei Yqu stopped in his tracks like he had run into an invisible wall. Clhla Luth watched as Alrei Yqu lifted from the ground perhaps two or more inches. Alrei Yqu's eyes were wide with astonishment. Not fear. With a motion, Clhla Luth sent Alrei Yqu crashing back into the table, flipping it over, and he lay still.

"Alrei Yqu." Meyu Kwi was horrified but he had to stay at his post. He had to defend the queen.

The mnaiowk outside had started moving. He whipped his head down on his long neck and bit off the head of the closest person. It crunched on the hard head and let if fall from his mouth as he reared up on his hind legs and with a hop, surged forward and crippled two more with vicious swipes of his clawed feet. It wanted to stay but Clhla Luth needed him. Unfurling its ragged wings, it took off; speeding toward his master like a homing beacon went off.

"You won't get out of here, Clhla Luth. I'll see to that."

Clhla Luth was walking toward Meyu Kwi and the Queen, the deranged look in his eyes even more dreadful. "And how are you going to stop me, Meyu Kwi. Your brother is no help." Clhla Luth nudged Alrei Yqu's body with his foot as he walked by for added effect.

Meyu Kwi was silent, maintaining his stance. He knew his brother wasn't dead. Clhla Luth was closing in on him. Meyu Kwi motioned to one of the other guards who ran at Clhla Luth, brandishing his weapon.

Clhla Luth had a sense this would happen and sidestepped the onrushing guard, slicing the guard's neck as he went by, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Ehcim appeared behind Meyu Kwi and shoved him hard toward Clhla Luth.

Meyu Kwi tried to turn as he felt Ehcim shove him but it was too late. He had to get his footing and he tumbled down the steps, springing to his feet as soon as they touched the floor. Clhla Luth was to his left, grinning like a madman. To his right, Ehcim grabbed the branch from the pillow resting on the queen's lap.

The queen made to stand but Ehcim pushed her down, holding her fast to her throne.

Enraged at Ehcim touching the queen, Meyu Kwi charged up the stairs, plowing a shoulder into Ehcim's sternum, sending him tumbling down the stairs behind the throne. Meyu Kwi put his hand out to the queen. He had to get her out of there. As she stood a horrible crunching sounded from the roof. Meyu Kwi instinctively pushed the queen back into her throne and covered her with his body as he looked up.

The glass canopy was crunching underweight. It sounded like someone walking on crusty frost. A crack appeared in the middle and spread out from the epicentre with unmatched speed. For a second the canopy hung there, like some cartoonish spider web, before giving way, showering shards down into the room. Behind the cloud of falling glass came Clhla Luth's mnaiowk, falling into the room like a kamikaze bird.

Meyu Kwi pulled the queen from her throne in and into his arms in one motion. Glass poured onto the vacant throne like a tsunami as Meyu Kwi staggered away with the queen. At the edge of the room he crouched down, keeping the queen safe with his body once again.

Clhla Luth was laughing. He found the entire scene to be hysterical. The mnaiowk landed on the throne, crushing it under its weight. He walked to the mnaiowk and mounted it in a single swift motion. He sat looking down at Meyu Kwi and the queen, his face disgusted. "I told you, Queen Amhain, I want what's mine."

Ehcim climbed the stairs from the back of the dais and with Clhla Luth's assistance mounted the steed as well, tucking the branch of the Lefirte under his free arm.

Clhla Luth gave them one last look of disdain before the steed took off, straight up like an arrow and disappeared into the blue sky.

Chapter 26

A strange smell permeated her senses. Each breath was an inhalation of it. With every exhale a residue remained like an anchor. A genetic reminder for the smell to follow as it returned with the next breath. The smell clung to her nostrils and Sequil swallowed hard, hoping it would help but it didn't. Swallowing only forced her to open her mouth for the next breath. The smell swarmed her mouth like an invading army taking over new ground. She didn't want to open her eyes and Sequil fought with the smell. Opening her eyes would reveal the horrible reality she was trying to avoid. Opening her eyes would wake her up to the one fact she was trying to deny and desperately didn't want to confront. As if by request, her last memory danced in her mind, teasing with grisly overtones. Overcome with the emotion of Kenok dying, Sequil had collapsed into the arms of an angel. So, that must mean I'm dead? The memory of Kenok disappeared as fast as it had come. If I am dead, why is it I can smell? Sequil closed her mouth and purposely drew in a deep breath through her nose. She ignored the strangeness of the aroma. She ignored the tang of the smell as it wended its way through her sinus' and down her trachea into her lungs. She ignored all that, focussing only on the function of breath. Sequil took another breath, as deep as the last one but quicker, making her chest puff up, her bosom heave. As her chest fell she could feel the steady beat of her heart and she relaxed somewhat. Ok, I'm not dead. Where am I?

Sequil could feel softness under her. Her returning senses told her she was lying down. Further sensual recon told her there was a blanket pulled up to her chin. Faint noises of a fire crackling could be heard in the distance. The clink of glass and squeak of floor boards told her someone was out there as well, but whom?

Sequil allowed her eyes to drift open the slightest crack, only enough to let in a weak glimmer of light. She moved her eyes side to side behind the lids, hoping to glimpse something, anything, without giving away that she was awake. A fuzzy blur down the bridge of her nose was all she could see so it was kind of fruitless. She would have to open her eyes fully and see what she could see. Sequil pulled her eyes shut once more, squeezing them tight as she braced herself with a deep breath. She exhaled and opened her eyes so fast it was like a balloon pop. She was indeed in a bed. A tiny bed, big enough for one person, pushed against the wall. It lay opposite an open doorway and at the beds foot end was a window with curtains drawn. The absence of light around the curtains edge told her the sun wasn't up. There was nothing else of note in the room and Sequil focussed her attention on the doorway. Beyond the frame, she couldn't see much. Flames dancing on the section of wall she could see. Listening harder she could hear the mutterings of a female voice.

"Never a visitor in all these long years, Uldie and now you've gone and picked up two." The woman giggled and began humming a merry tune as she worked.

Sequil's heart lurched in her throat. If she had heard correctly, this woman said she had two guests. Two. That could only mean that Kenok was here as well and he wasn't dead. Why would anyone include a dead person in their count?

"Oh, you're awake, dearie."

Sequil's heart lurched again. She had been so caught up mulling over what she overheard, she hadn't heard the woman come over and poke her head in the room. She looked up and an old woman's head was leaning into the frame, the rest of her body out of sight. Sequil only nodded her eyes wide with shock.

"Come now. Come now. You needn't be afraid." The woman revealed herself fully, easing her body out from the frame of the doorway and stood, silhouetted by the fire in the background. In this light, she didn't look so old.

Sequil cleared her throat. "Who are you?"

"You don't remember dearie?"

Sequil shook her head no. She furrowed her brow as she tried to reach into her memories and figure out who this person was.

"I'm, Uldarra." Uldarra's face broke into a warm smile and she fixed her gaze on Sequil's eyes. She could sense the confusion behind them. The anxiety of waking up in a strange place, there was toughness there as well.

Sequil stared harder into Uldarra's face. The warm smile seemed familiar and like a flash she remembered. The person she thought was her angel was this woman, Uldarra. Sequil was astonished.

"Ahh, it's all coming back to you, Sequil." Uldarra nodded as she watched the realization dawning on Sequil's' face.

"Yes, I remember you catching me. I thought I had died and you were my angel." Sequil's voice trailed off as she spoke the last word. Like a poke in the ribs, it hit her that something wasn't right. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh pish, dearie." Uldarra dismissed her with a swipe of her hand and shake of her head as if Sequil had asked the silliest thing in the world. "I overheard your husband say your name. He is your husband, right?"

Sequil nodded.

"Yes, I heard Kenok call you by name." Uldarra had a tight feeling in her stomach. Sequil hadn't reacted when she said Kenok's name but that didn't mean she wouldn't. Maybe it was taking longer for her to process information right now. Uldarra scolded herself. She had to be more careful. It had been so long since she had guests she was bubbling over with eagerness to talk and slipped up. She didn't want to let all her secrets out at once. That wouldn't do at all.

"Yes, he did say my name, didn't he?" More memories and insights were popping into Sequil's mind. Images of Kenok, sprawled out on their carriage face down and calling out her name surfaced like rotting leaves from the bottom of a lake making her stomach churn as if she were back at the scene. The memory sharpened her senses and her head whipped toward Uldarra. "How is he?"

Uldarra maintained her facial expression as she shifted her stance, her demeanor changing slightly. She wasn't sure how to answer this question. Kenok was alive but Uldarra's powers had led her to discover he was clinging to life.

Sequil watched Uldarra closely for clues and she didn't like what she saw. Uldarra's body language told her Uldarra was uncomfortable with the question. Sequil could almost see the wheels turning around and around in Uldarra's mind as she tried to work out how best to answer the question without saying too much. "I said how is my husband?" Sequil couldn't hold back the emotion she was feeling, her voice rising higher than she intended.

Uldarra was taken aback with Sequil's abruptness. Her eyes widened as she watched Sequil throw back her covers and swing her feet around to the floor and rise on wobbly legs. "He is still alive, dearie."

"But?"

Uldarra strode to Sequil and took both her hands in hers, looking her in the eye. She could sense a struggle going inside Sequil. Like any loving wife, Sequil wanted to know how her husband was but was scared of what she might discover. Fearful her husband's passing would be like a death of her own, leaving her empty, and hollow but worst of all alone in this world. Uldarra wanted to lay everything out for Sequil and not leave anything in the dark. To let her know everything. Sequil was stronger than she looked but in her current state, Uldarra didn't know if she would be able to deal with the information she had to share. It would have to wait for now. "But." and Uldarra stopped again, more for her own benefit than Sequil's.

Sequil's head was swimming, her brain only too happy to churn out one gruesome scenario after another, but she had to know. She stared at Uldarra, waiting, her breath catching in her lungs with every thud of her heart.

"But, he is a strong man, Sequil."

Sequil didn't know what she meant. Was Uldarra optimistic he would make it? Was she trying to get her ready for the end? "I know he is a strong man. Is he going to live or not?"

Uldarra guided Sequil back a few steps, where the bed took her legs out and she dropped to the bed. Uldarra joined her on the bed, sitting right beside her and continuing to hold her hands. She looked into Sequil's eyes once again. "The knife didn't pierce any vital organs but he lost a lot of blood."

'But I covered the wound, packed it tight to stop the bleeding." Sequil was rerunning her treatment of Kenok's wound over in her mind. She had done her best with what she had but it wasn't enough. Her eyes flooded with hot tears thinking she had failed him.

"Yes, you did a great job given the circumstances, but he is barely alive. Whether he lives or dies is going to be up to him." Uldarra's face was blank, impassive. She could feel Sequil's pain, jamming away at her strength, at her resolve, like some sort of wrestling match.

Those were the words Sequil didn't want to hear. It couldn't be true. She wished she could un-hear them. Make them vanish forever, never to be uttered again anywhere to anyone. But even as she reeled, there was a kernel inside her mind, anchoring her to the reality of the situation. Sequil had no idea how long they had been running. A day, maybe two, and all that time without proper care for Kenok. She couldn't expect anything else. A cascade of emotions washed over her. She wanted to lie down and curl up in a ball until her world ended, her life imploded like a collapsing star. But she couldn't do any of those things. Kenok was still alive and that was positive. She had to do everything in her power to make him come back to her. "Take me to him, Uldarra."

Uldarra had been expecting this. She could see that Sequil needed to be with Kenok. That was understandable. But Uldarra had checked in on Kenok, more precisely, where Kenok was. She knew Kenok had a destiny to fulfill. A karmic responsibility to attend to and Sequil's presence at his body's side could pull him away from that. Kenok had to complete his task. If he decided to live after that, then so be it, but for now his soul was where it needed to be. "I'll take you to him, dearie. But perhaps you should rest first. You don't look like you're up to it."

"If you don't take me to him now, I'll find him on my own." Sequil wrenched her hands from Uldarra's and stood once more. Waves of emotion sent her head spinning again but she fought to stay standing, closing her eyes and willing her head to clear.

Uldarra could see she was going to have trouble with this. Perhaps she could let her see him for a moment. That would ease her thoughts and Sequil would be easier to get back into bed. She stood and took Sequil's hand again. It was trembling like a leaf in the wind. She made to take a step and froze as the barking of dogs erupted outside. The barking graduated to ferocious growling and snorting. This wasn't a play fight or a case of the dogs spotting game. Something was out there and her dogs were in protect mode. The growling continued unabated. Uldarra could tell they were attacking something or someone. A sharp howl of pain and the din of barking diminished but didn't stop. Another sharp howl of pain and again, less barking. A last drawn out, painful yip and everything went quiet.

Chapter 27

Tagan's foot missed the step altogether and he tumbled beside the stairs, landing hard on the arms he crossed over his chest to protect himself, and rolled to the side. A head with blond hair and dazzling blue eyes appeared from the dark recess of the carriage interior. Rean Le looked down at Tagan, a quizzical expression on her face followed by a sly smile. "What are you doing, Tagan?"

Tagan sputtered for words. He wasn't even sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. He had convinced himself that he would never see Rean Le again and here she was, coming to his rescue.

Rean Le could see Tagan was having trouble and she scooted out of the trailer, nimble and lithe, not bothering with the stairs and landing beside Tagan so softly even the ground wasn't sure she was there. She looked down at Tagan. His eyes were wide with shock but there was also something else there. A warmth. A happiness to see her that Rean Le hadn't experienced in long time. She extended her hand to help Tagan to his feet.

Tagan's heart was pounding. He hadn't exerted himself in any way but it was hammering like he had crested the highest peak at a full run. Tears were forming in his eyes and he felt embarrassed. He looked away as Rean Le extended her hand to him but took it anyway, raising his bound hands to hers. She didn't lift right away and Tagan looked back as she produced a knife and slashed the ropes binding his wrists. In a flash, she stored the knife and pulled Tagan to his feet. Tagan felt light, like he was walking on air and he found himself face to face with Rean Le. She flashed him a brief smile and Tagan almost fell to the ground once again, his knees feeling like they became unhinged. "What are you doing here?"

Rean Le looked away. She had felt the same pangs as Tagan. The truth was, she didn't know what she was doing here. When she had left them after Braulor's disappearance, she meant what she said. She had no interest in looking for the Amber Eye any longer. Searching for it had cost her everything. Her homeland. Her family. Even her life. And when Tagan appeared, talking of going after it once more, she had no desire. Her answer came from the dark part of her mind where her resentments and regrets lived. She knew better than to let her bitterness answer for her but she hadn't been prepared for how the mentioning of the Amber Eye had awaken so much in her. Regrets over her failed attempt to recover the Amber Eye had dogged her for years and years but she couldn't let those feeling dictate what to do. Rean Le faltered for words anyway, not comfortable revealing her reasons. "I discovered there was a patrol in the area and came back to warn you, only to find you were captured." She pushed her blonde hair from her eyes and paused, a coy expression playing at her lips. "I couldn't leave you in the hands of the Dwenar Gliv authorities."

"I was certain I would never see you again. I mean, certain you had made up your mind not to help us." Embarrassed he had revealed too much of his feelings, Tagan threw in the last part, hoping to put Rean Le off what he truly meant.

Rean Le's eyebrows went up at Tagan's last comment, raising the corners of her mouth into a tiny smile. As much as he tried to hide it, Rean Le knew Tagan was taken with her. She knew better than to get involved with a human but couldn't help but feel flattered all the same. "Don't get your hopes up yet. We still haven't gotten anywhere yet."

Tagan didn't want to think about the future. He only cared about right now and right now, Rean Le was here, helping him up from the ground and setting him free from the ropes binding him. They shared a sheepish grin before a rough voice barged through their reverie.

"Is anyone going to help me, here?"

Tagan spun his head around to the carriage opening. Stonjsin was leaning with one arm against the frame of the door. He swayed as he stood, unsteady but vertical. His front was covered in mud and leaves. His face was gaunt and drawn, hair matted down with filth and sweat but his eyes were ablaze. Afire with anger. Stonjsin looked crazed, like he could take on the Dwenar Gliv army all on his own.

Rean Le skipped up the steps and led Stonjsin down by his arm. She let go when they got to ground and he swayed once again, even more pronounced but he fought for his balance, regaining it and fixing his steely gaze on Tagan. "Glad to see you're still with us." he quipped with a big smile on his dirty face.

"Me? What about you? I thought you were a goner for sure." Tagan grabbed him in a big hug. He could feel Stonjsin wince as he did so but Stonjsin returned the hug before Tagan stepped back.

Stonjsin dismissed Tagan's comment with a smirk. "That? I had 'em right where I wanted them."

"Tough talk, old man."

Tagan and Stonjsin started as Crenoah approached them, rubbing his wrists where he had freed them from the binding ropes. Rean Le only turned her head casually as if she had been expecting him all along.

Stonjsin started to formulate a comeback but ended up only bursting out in laughter. Crenoah laughed as well and Tagan joined them. It had been so long since Tagan felt such genuine happiness, the act of laughing felt foreign to him. Like it was an action he needed to practice so he wouldn't feel awkward.

"We don't have much time. The head of the vanguard will be coming back here to find out what's going on." Rean Le was back in warrior mode, her feelings once again battened down where she could keep an eye on them. "And the guards from here could return any minute."

Tagan's, Crenoah's and Stonjsin's laughter died as fast a fire with a bucket of water dumped on it and they looked at one another with guilty faces as if they had done something wrong. Of course, she was right. They were still in a precarious situation and if they didn't take appropriate action they would all wind up in the carriage, alive if they were lucky.

"You're right, ma'am." Stonjsin tipped his head in Rean Le's direction. "We need to get out of here. If only I knew where here was."

Tagan nodded his agreement.

"Where we are, isn't as important right now as getting out of here is."

"Let's take the carriage and go." Crenoah couldn't see a better opportunity to seize comfortable passage.

"Too bulky. Too noisy." Rean Le shook her head. The carriage would be nice but not practical at the moment. "Where we're going, we require stealth."

"The horses." Tagan felt happy to have input but his joy faded as he remembered the pain his backside was in from riding already. He didn't relish more of it.

"Yes, the horses. They are our best hope but we need to throw them off the trail." Rean Le was looking once again at the carriage Stonjsin had been in. She turned to Tagan and Stonjsin. "Get the stairs off the carriage and shut the door." she commanded.

Tagan snapped to attention and jumped to the stairs, wrestling with them. Stonjsin eased his way over to help him.

"Crenoah, I need you to do a quick search of the remaining carriages."

"Ok. What am I looking for?"

"Supplies. Weapons. Clothes. Anything we can carry on horseback. Grab as much as you can carry and get back here."

Crenoah ran off without further questions or instructions.

Rean Le turned to Tagan and Stonjsin. The stairs were off and Tagan was shutting the door. She nodded and walked to the horses pulling the carriage. She stood between the horses, one hand on each of their heads, her own head bowed. She murmured softly. It was so melodic and sweet sounding; it could hypnotize a crazed beast. The horses began to stamp their hoofs, their nostrils flaring as they chomped at their bits. Rean Le lifted her head and could see Tagan and Stonjsin were clear of the carriage, watching her intently. She withdrew her hand from the horses and stepped away from them. The horses stood still for a moment and then cantered in a slow arc away from Rean Le. Once they were clear of her, Rean Le shouted and the horses broke into a gallop, their hooves thundering as they took off back in the direction they had come.

Rean Le watched them go and then marched to Tagan and Stonjsin. "Help me get the other horses ready."

They walked as a group back to the horses from Brankin Huoh the men had captured earlier and set about untying them from one another.

"Stonjsin."

Stonjsin turned from the rope he was busy working the knots out of. Crenoah was laden down with gear he had found, slung in a bulky mass over one shoulder, his hand clamped onto Drebos' upper arm. His free hand held a shaking knife to Drebos' throat. Stonjsin couldn't believe his eyes. At least, he didn't want to. He had a feeling all along that Drebos was somehow involved with their capture but didn't want to think it possible. They had been through so much together; Stonjsin couldn't see how anyone could turn on the Greejon clan. "Drebos?"

Drebos looked at Stonjsin for a moment before casting his eyes away in shame. He didn't know how he could explain anything to them. He couldn't ask them for forgiveness. They would never understand his motivations.

"Where was he, Crenoah?" Stonjsin was at a loss for words. He didn't know if he wanted to question Drebos to find answers or beat them out of him.

"He was in one of the other carriages. Not tied. Not bound. Sitting there in comfort while we suffered." Crenoah couldn't hide the disgust he was feeling for Drebos. He knew Stonjsin would want to question Drebos before deciding what to do with him but Crenoah wanted action. Blood. Revenge. He was regretting bringing Drebos back to Stonjsin in the first place. He should have finished him once and for all and been done with it. Nobody would have been any the wiser.

"Drebos." Stonjsin's voice stern and commanding. He wasn't questioning what his eyes were showing him anymore. He knew it was Drebos and now he wanted answers. He stepped away from the ropes he was untying as Tagan stepped in, relieving him, and turned to face Drebos squarely.

Drebos turned his head back to Stonjsin at hearing his name, the reflex of command not fully out of his system. He set his face in the sternest look of defiance he could and held his gaze staring right back into Stonjsin's eyes.

"Why, Drebos?" Stonjsin had a host of questions and very little time to work with. He was aware they would have unwanted company any moment but he to at least know why Drebos had turned on them.

Drebos licked his lips, breaking the stone look he had set in place. "You wouldn't understand, Stonjsin." His lip quivered as he said it; giving away the emotion he was fighting hard to keep repressed.

"You trusted me once, Drebos. I was proud to fight alongside you and your father." Stonjsin saw Drebos' eyes flare at the mention of his late father. Drebos' dad had been killed by the mysterious beings that had attacked the Greejon clan at Vjeinka Rise. Stonjsin knew he had hit close to the mark.

"My dad." Drebos' voice hitched as he spoke. His throat was tight like it was being squeezed by a constrictor snake. He choked his words one more time before being able to produce audible words. "My dad, Stonjsin, was a great man and now he's dead. Killed by who knows what and I got nothing. Nothing to live for." Drebos had lost control. Emotions he was trying to keep in check were assaulting his every sense. He was shrieking now, shrill and high as the remorse and sadness poured out of his reddened face. He was flailing his free hand around like he couldn't control it any longer. He could feel the sharp edge of Crenoah's knife at his throat and wished it would bite. Sink into his neck and end his tormented life.

Stonjsin wasn't shocked. He had seen people lose loved ones before and it was never easy to deal with but he had to keep pushing. "Why turn us in then? Why not take off? We would never have found you if that's what you wanted."

Drebos had fallen to his knees in despair and now he looked up at Stonjsin. "Why? I'm tired of running, Stonjsin. Tired of the endless wandering, always wondering if there is an army around the next corner or some guy out for a quick meal at my expense. When I found Lozan and he was still alive, he promised me a full pardon if I got him to safety. Don't you see? I couldn't pass that up."

"And you turned us in as part of the deal?"

"No. That wasn't the plan at all. I carried Lozan out of the brush and we encountered this patrol. They recognized Lozan but he was unconscious and couldn't back me up. Once they had him secure and were tending to him, they turned on me. Questioned who I was and how I came to be here. They had already found those horses so they knew there were more people around. I thought you had all got out of there, so I sent them up to the clearing. They put me in the carriage and I watched as they brought you down." Drebos slumped his head down, embarrassed. He didn't have anything to add.

"Did you think they would honour that agreement, Drebos? Even if Lozan lived, he would have you executed after he found out where the rest of the clan could be found."

Drebos didn't even look up. His head was swimming, drowning in torn emotions. Anger. Sadness. Betrayal. His life had devolved into a quagmire of bad decisions. He didn't care anymore what happened to him, he wanted to stop feeling anything.

"We would have been there for you, Drebos. Would have helped you through the tough times. We were your family."

Drebos looked up and made to answer, but his voice hitched in his throat once again.

An arrow sailed past Crenoah, slamming into a young sapling, quivering with evil intent.

Their heads spun around to find its source, except for Stonjsin. He didn't need to look. "Get on the horses now." he bellowed as he spun on his heel. He knew their time was up. He was struggling to climb onto the horse, his limbs still weak. Rean Le and Tagan jumped to his sides, hoisting him into the saddle and passing him the reins. They each mounted a horse behind him. Crenoah handed each of them as much gear as he could before clambering onto a horse of his own. Stonjsin gave Drebos one last sorrowful look before digging his heels into his horse's side and speeding off toward cover.

Chapter 28

As soon as they broke the plane at the top of the tower above the queen's chambers and were into the free space above the palace, Clhla Luth could tell something was wrong. The mnaiowk was being buffered and beaten by crosswinds. Still connected by mind to the steed, Clhla Luth urged it on, pushing and demanding more. More energy. More strength. His elation at having escaped from the queen's chamber with both the branch from Lefirte and Ehcim was fading fast. What good was it to escape the inside only to have to land somewhere outside on the grounds. There would be a full phalanx of guards anywhere he landed and any hope of fighting his way out would be futile. The steed drifted lower and lower as it struggled to correct its trajectory and get itself high into the sky. It was so low now; its stomach was almost scraping along the roof of the palace. Clhla Luth could tell the steed had no more to give. If he didn't do something about it now, the mnaiowk wouldn't have enough energy to get them all back to his stronghold in time to complete the ceremony. The ceremony. The sole reason for being in Ameuralia. His only purpose for living. The rite he would perform giving the Draepkos access to Ameuralia, access to this world and his domination of it he reminded himself and everything became clear. He knew what he had to do. The ceremony was everything. The ritual had to be done at this window of opportunity. There wouldn't be such an advantageous time to act for hundreds of years. Perhaps millennia. Clhla Luth turned his head to look at Ehcim.

Ehcim was clinging to Clhla Luth with his free arm, his other hand holding the branch from Lefirte in an iron grip. He had already set the plan back by days and there was no way he was going to let the branch fall out of his reach again.

"Give the branch to me, Ehcim." Clhla Luth took a hand from the reigns and reaching back, held it open, near his shoulder, waiting.

Ehcim was reluctant to pass the branch off. Part of him was worried it would get dropped in the transfer but a deeper part of him was scared. He knew he had let Clhla Luth down and feared the punishment there would be for it. Keeping the branch safe until they were back in their lair was his way of atoning. A way to try and claw his way back into Clhla Luth's good books but he knew he couldn't disobey. He looked to the branch and to Clhla Luth's waiting hand. With reluctance, he placed the branch in Clhla Luth's hand. For a second they both had their hand on the branch and Clhla Luth's plan became clear to Ehcim in flashes, like scenes in a movie. Ehcim wasn't going back to the lair. He began begging for forgiveness. "I know I failed you, Clhla Luth. It won't happen again."

Clhla Luth closed his hand about the branch and whipped it around in front of him, tucking it under his leg. He too felt the connection but Ehcim's fears were of no consequence to him. He had worked too hard and too long to miss out on this opportunity now. Ehcim had been a good servant and Clhla Luth would miss his obedience. But Ehcim could be replaced. "This is the way it has to be, Ehcim."

"Please, my lord. Don't do it." Ehcim was terrified now. They were still high up but the steed was drifting ever closer to the ground. They had cleared the palace buildings but were still over the grounds. He could see swaths of guards swarming below like ants after their nest had been kicked over. Bowmen were launching arrows but none had hit so far.

Clhla Luth reached into the bag secured on the steed's neck and withdrew a short, nasty looking blade. It was silver, etched with strange glyphs and at the tip was a blob of dark paste.

Looking over Clhla Luth's shoulder, Ehcim could see him produce the blade. He knew the poison stuck to its tip. He had made the elixir himself many times before. It would kill him but not in a fast or pain-free way. He knew there was no more bargaining to be done. Clhla Luth wouldn't tolerate any more pleading so it was worthless for Ehcim to even try. He looked down at the ground. It was closer but he probably wouldn't survive the fall if he were to jump. Clhla Luth spun around in his saddle, looking to deliver the fateful blow. Out of sheer reaction, Ehcim stopped the oncoming arm, his will to live overriding his staunchness to serve Clhla Luth.

"Don't resist, Ehcim. This is the way it has to be." Clhla Luth was somewhat surprised by Ehcim putting up a fight but he didn't expect less. Any animal will fight back when they know the end is coming.

Ehcim didn't say anything. He worked on resisting Clhla Luth's hand while not falling off. It was a tough task. Clhla Luth was stronger than Ehcim expected and the troubled flight of the mnaiowk didn't help matters any.

The mnaiowk lurched in midair as an arrow found home and they dropped dozens of feet in a flash as if they had hit a rough patch of turbulence. Ehcim's stomach dropped with it and he felt like he was going to be sick.

Clhla Luth seemed unaffected by the sudden drop in altitude, but he could tell it affected Ehcim and tried to use it to his advantage. With a hard turn at Clhla Luth's command, the steed righted its flight but it was too late for Ehcim. His centre of gravity was thrown off and he tumbled off the steed, falling backward his arms flailing for anything they could grab onto. With Ehcim's weight gone, the steed found the strength it needed and in a few powerful strokes had pulled up into the sky, out of the bowmen's reach. Ehcim watched as Clhla Luth looked back at him and threw the knife he so desperately wanted to stab him with in Ehcim's direction. A smack as Ehcim hit ground level; searing pain shooting across his back like the skin was ripping. He screamed out in pain before the cold water surged over him, dragging him under.

Chapter 29

Grawton drifted along directionless and without concern. He was lost in thoughts he had been certain were buried deep enough they would never bother him ever again, but here they were pawing at his brain like some twisted version of puppies looking for their mother's nipple. The thoughts were rough and abusive, clawing at his conscious mind, looking for a foothold of any sort. Trying to find a crack in the facade Grawton had erected to keep them at bay. He thought there was nowhere for them to cling to. After his arrival in Tâ Oandimn, he had worked long and hard at suppressing the memories of his childhood. The memories of abuse and torture at the hands of the monster that was his father. Memories which had driven him to become the nightmare he was. He grew to manhood progressing in the level of ghastly crimes much in the way a martial artist acquires belts. Killing his father had been nothing to him. He was so desensitized to violence by the time he did it; Grawton didn't even get worked up thinking about it. As far as he was concerned his father was reaping what he had sewn. If Grawton hadn't finished him someone else would have. Better it be him, someone whose psyche was too far gone to be rehabilitated than some poor sap who was trying to do right by his family and would have to live with the horrendous memory of taking a life. Grawton figured he had done the world a favor. It was how he chose to look at it but killing his father was the only atrocity he committed in his lifetime that could be looked on in such a way. He had done it to free himself. Or had he? Grawton was having second thoughts about his motives and this troubled him. He had gone on afterwards, committing every crime possible and in the most nasty and gruesome ways he could. He was evil, through and through. But he couldn't shake the feeling he had killed his father in an attempt to free his brothers and sisters from the same fate he knew he was going to be his. A good deed? Albeit, subconsciously performed, Grawton never thought his hands would be used for good. Perhaps he did it to give them a shot at a normal life. Something he knew he would never have. He hadn't encountered any of his relative's souls in Tâ Oandimn which led him to believe he had succeeded. Grawton stopped, his group of sycophants drifting into him. They shrank back immediately, bracing for a rebuke they assumed was coming but none was. Grawton was so engrossed with the thoughts and ideas he was wrestling with he hadn't noticed them. Hadn't noticed anything for that matter.

Grawton pulled his attention away from his problem long enough to discover he had found his way back to his home. It was far from homey and would be more aptly described as his lair but he only viewed it as the place he went when he wanted to be alone. If he could ever be alone in Tâ Oandimn. He was connected to everything here and knew every soul's whereabouts and goings on. As Karuuk' Ul's servant he had to be. Karuuk' Ul was demanding and tough. He would request a person to be brought before him and Grawton was expected to know where said person was and what he had been up to since his arrival. And Grawton was top notch at it. He delighted in the pain and suffering Karuuk Ul dished out and even more so enjoyed having free reign to deliver his own abuse to his heart's content. There it was again. Heart. It was the word he was searching for to describe what he was feeling. What the contact with the staff had awoken in him. Was it his heart? He sneered at the idea. It was ludicrous. His heart died at the end of a rope many eons ago. He had seen it die. Watched it stop, with particular relish. It was, perhaps, his only other borderline humanitarian act.

It had been after a terrible run of killing and destroying. He and his gang were on the run from a mob of townsfolk they had been terrorizing. The folkies, as they referred to them, had figured out they outnumbered their oppressors by a great many and rallied, chasing them out of town. Grawton remembered laughing as they ran as if it were the funnest thing in the world. They ran so fast they were able to put enough distance between themselves and the townies and stopped to catch their breath in a copse of short, scrubby brush. Fighting broke out among the group as it often did among men of his ilk. Grawton stayed out of it for the most part, enjoying the petty squabbles over whose fault it was. About who had pushed the townies too far. As the arguing raged, Grawton looked back and could see the torches of the townsfolk. They looked like fire ants coming through the darkness toward them and something in him had had enough. The running. The fighting. The scraping by. It had been fun but enough was enough. He drew his knife, walked to the closest of his comrades, approaching from behind, and cut his throat in mid-sentence, spraying the man he was arguing with in the face with blood. The man stepped back trying to wipe the blood from his eyes. Grawton dropped the first victim to the ground, stepping over his body and slamming his knife through the second man's man hand, through his eye and into his brain. The man turned limp instantly and flopped to the ground like a sack of wet cement. The scene went quiet in the blink of an eye, the petty bickering shelved to watch new events unfold. There were only three more men besides Grawton and they coolly pulled weapons and stepped apart. They knew what was up. None of them ran. Each chose to fight Grawton and he waved them on with an evil taunt. They were no match for Grawton though and he killed them with little problem and stood surveying the carnage. He nodded his head. It felt right. Everything was as it should be. He dropped his knife and walked to the closest pack and rummaged around in it for a rope. Finding one of suitable length, he looked around for a firm tree with a strong branch at just the right height. Spotting one he strode toward it, fashioning one end of the rope into a noose as he went. He had done it so many times before it was old hat for him, like he was tying his tie for church. Once at the tree he threw the noose end over the branch, leaving it to dangle a foot or so above his head as he wrapped the other end around the trunk several times and tied it off. Happy with the noose he looked again for the townies. They were closer than he had anticipated. He could hear their voices, telling one another to hush as they searched in the scrubby brush for the marauders. Grawton ran to the closest body and dragged it over his noose and dropped it in a seated position so the man's torso bent over his legs. He walked up the man's back and fitted his head into the noose and made sure it was snug around his neck. He waited as the townies poured into the little clearing, their torches lighting the macabre scene. He was pleased to see their horrified expressions, a few of them turning to retch. Spotting Grawton standing on his makeshift noose they stopped, the air leaving the area as if it had been sealed off. Without a word Grawton used the man under his feet like a springboard, propelling himself in the air as the man's bent body sprang out flat underneath him. The end of Grawton's physical life started with a horrendous lurch, the rope making his body defy gravity's best wishes. When he jumped off the body, the rope he had set on his neck moved and tightened again in a less than satisfactory position with the effect of it taking him longer to die. Grawton found it strange. His soul was leaving his body inch by inch. Jolt by agonizing jolt, his essence was squeezed from the body like someone wringing out at towel. Even after he was fully out, his body convulsed and thrashed in horrific fashion before going still. Grawton watched with glee the expressions on the townies faces. The terror. The fright. He chuckled, knowing even in death, he would torment them for a long time. Then he got the call. Karuuk' Ul came for him and so began a prolonged period of torture. At first Grawton tried to track the time passing but gave up, realizing time didn't exist.

For reasons unknown, Grawton accepted the abuse. Maybe it reminded him of the treatment he had received from his father. Maybe he knew there was no way out so he might as well learn to deal with it. Grawton also could sense Karuuk' Ul's power and knew he wasn't one to be trifled with. By enduring Karuuk' Ul's best, Grawton won. He earned the respect of Karuuk Ul, who took him under his wing and allowed Grawton to flourish in nightmarish style.

Grawton snapped out his funk. A new soul had arrived. He sensed the shift in energy before his group did. When they did, they went crazy, swooping around in circles and weird figure eight motions with glee. They would have at the soul but first Grawton would have his way. If they were lucky, he would let them go first. It didn't happen often but sometimes Grawton had more fun watching his posse attack the newly arrived.

Grawton packed his thoughts back up and looked around at his group. They were watching him like a dog watched its bowl, waiting for food to be dropped in. Grawton could feel his own excitement building. It coiled up inside him like a spring, aching to be released. The best part was, a new soul gave him something to do. Something to take his mind off of his resurgent memories and he was gladdened by it. Heartened, if he dare use the term. The memories he had been wrestling with were losing their power under the distraction of a new soul to play with. He nodded to his group and they surrounded him in a flash and Grawton performed the ritual to take them all to where new souls arrived.

Silent as the wind, Grawton and his clan popped into being at the arrival site for new souls. Immediately those clinging to him disbanded and shot about the room, zooming over and around the new soul. They wouldn't attack, not without Grawton's ok. This was more of a feeling out process. A tenderizing to let the newbie know what was coming.

The soul sank to his knees, cowering from the swooping and diving attack. He covered his head with one hand and swatted feebly at his assailants with the other.

This didn't surprise Grawton anymore. Very few souls had arrived that didn't assume this posture. It was all they could do once they realized where they were. His mind still not done with his previous thoughts, he let the boys have their fun while he tried to tame himself. Grawton stayed outside the circle and drifted around the attack, taking in the action from various viewpoints. The new soul had his back to him and as Grawton came around to confront the man, flashes of face and hair appeared as the soul fought his assailants. There was something about this one. Something Grawton recognized but couldn't pinpoint.

Directly in front of the man, Grawton stopped, watching but trying to feel more about this man.

Tired of the assault, the soul threw caution to the wind and sprang to its feet, flailing at the attackers with his hands but they moved so fast it was if he were trying to slap mosquito's buzzing his ears as he tried to sleep.

The hands came away from the soul's face and if he were to have blood, Grawton's would have run cold. "Stop." He commanded.

The swirling assault stopped at once, all the men looking at Grawton, confused and aggrieved.

"Back off." Grawton still couldn't get a good look at the man. To many of his men were in the way.

The group shrank away from the man like children being scolded and the man fell to his knees once more, his head hanging low.

Grawton approached with caution. He didn't know why. He had nothing to fear here and he had done this countless times but something was giving him pause. As he approached, he could tell the man was sobbing, if such a thing existed here. It looked more like he was convulsing. Grawton looked closer at the soul, now that he was up close. It didn't bear the usual large swaths of dark those whom dwelt there bore. A meagre, thin blotch of grey was all there was and it made Grawton wonder how he had come to be here. He was almost pure.

"Look at me." Grawton was right in front of the man.

The man stopped sobbing and dropped his hands to his sides. He looked up at Grawton, trying to be valiant. But the eyes gave him away. They always did. The eyes told a different story and as Grawton stared into them, it hit him with the force of a bomb. He knew those eyes but from where? And from when? "What is your name?"

The man's jaw set before answering, familiar eyes narrowing. "Kenok."

Chapter 30*

Tyhreb looked up, his eyes flashing back and forth beneath squinting lids, taking in every detail and comparing them to the memory of moments previous. He didn't see any changes. Nobody was charging at him to see what the racket was all about. He let the dog in his hands drop to the ground beside the two he had previously dispatched. He looked at their lifeless bodies and felt something close to shame. As close as it could be for a person like himself. As proficient as he was at meting out death, Tyhreb didn't enjoy it per se. Maybe in his younger days there was a thrill attached with it but as he grew older, Tyhreb recognized the having to take another life as a necessary element of the jobs he performed. He didn't feel either way about it now. If he could complete a mission without killing, then so be it. If he had to wade knee deep in blood to get to his objective, then that's the way it had to be. He hadn't planned on killing these dogs and would have preferred not to. What was disturbing him the most was how they had gotten the drop on him? In all his missions, he couldn't recall a single time dogs had taken him by surprise. Like any adversary, Tyhreb took it on himself to know as much as he could about them. He knew their tendencies. How they would react when alone or in a pack. He knew this so he could avoid them. Get past them without them raising the alarm to his objective. But these three, it was like they had appeared out of thin air. As if they were in some hidden rift in space. One second there was nothing and the next, they were there, barring the way. He shook his head and looked to the house where he knew Kenok was.

It hadn't taken him much to follow them. The wife had no concern for concealing their passage, taking the most direct route to wherever it was they were going. From Tyhreb's perspective it seemed they had no real plan, only to get away. He followed the tracks from Kenok's house, noting places where they stopped. From the discarded items he found he knew that Kenok wasn't in the best of condition. But that didn't matter. Tyhreb could patch him up well enough to get him to Lozan and collect payment. After that, it didn't matter what happened to Kenok.

But there was an unknown element in the equation now. At the last place Kenok and his wife had stopped, a new pair of tracks appeared. Tracks he had never seen before. Tyhreb was well travelled and knew most of the lands. He could recall almost every track and person who made them he had encountered in those travels but these tracks were unfamiliar to him. It was what was giving him pause at the moment. A new dilemma. A new piece to find a place for in his puzzle. As he studied the house, there was something strange about it. He couldn't quite place his finger on what it was. It didn't look largely different from any other house he had encountered. A door. Windows. Thatch roof. Very nondescript and if he were to see it in any other context he wouldn't give it much thought. Perhaps that's what it was. It was the location. Out here in dense forest, it sat in a clearing like an oasis in the desert. The surrounding area was a mess of trees and brush but they didn't grow near the house. It was as if there was some unspoken agreement and they stayed at their designated perimeter. There was something more though. Tyhreb was attuned to energies most people either couldn't sense or didn't care to acknowledge and this house had energy about it. A unique power pervading it, like some invisible cloud. It didn't seem to be a dangerous energy. Charmed would be the word he would use. As if the ground it was built on was special in some way. Different from where he was standing. He crouched down, holding back the urge to charge into the house take what he wanted by force. Some part of him knew he had to come up with a better plan.

"What was that?" Sequil turned to look at Uldarra. She had risen from the bed but hadn't even registered taking a step before the barking and growling began outside. It sounded terrible. As if there were a pack of wolves holding a fight to see who would be leader. Sequil took a closer look at Uldarra. She was in the room with her but Uldarra's eyes were frozen open. She didn't blink. She didn't move her head. It was as if she had become petrified. Her hand was still warm but Sequil found she couldn't remove hers from it. She tugged gently once and then again. Uldarra's stiff hand refused to let go. Sequil reached over with her free hand to see if she could prise Uldarra's hand from hers. Uldarra let out a low moan as if she had been struck. As if she had witnessed a savage scene. Sequil clasped Uldarra's hand with her free hand and tugged. Uldarra's hand squeezed Sequil's. Squeezed it so hard, Sequil thought she was going to break it. She could hear cartilage in her hand popping and snapping under the force. Sequil couldn't take it anymore and screamed out. "Uldarra. Stop."

Uldarra's hand released the pressure it was applying but didn't relinquish the grip and she came back to her senses. "I'm sorry, dearie. How is your hand?" Uldarra looked down at Sequil's dainty hand and turned it over in hers looking for damage.

"It's ok. I think." Sequil tried to pull it out of Uldarra's grip but still couldn't. "What was that noise outside?"

"Oh, that." Uldarra laughed once again. High and giggly like a schoolgirl being shy. But Sequil's question dug deeper than she cared to let on. She knew what had happened to her dogs. Her beloved dogs. They were her only source of companionship out here. Now they were gone and it was that beast, that beast of a man, who took them from her. He would pay.

"But it sounded like there was fight. Shouldn't you go investigate?" Sequil was beyond annoyed now. Uldarra still hadn't let go of her hand and Sequil was starting to have all sorts of doubts about where she was. Uldarra seemed harmless enough. An older woman, living alone. But Sequil could tell there was more to the story. More to what Uldarra was about.

"You're right, dearie. I should go and see what's happening out there. We wouldn't want to put our guests in danger." Uldarra had every intention of going out there. Going out there and destroying the beast that did this to her dogs. But there were many things stopping her. She was still connected to the scene through her one dog. It hadn't quite died yet and Uldarra was taking in all the detail she could before he passed. He was in agony, she knew. She could feel it in every fiber of her being. She wished there was something she could do for him but he was already beyond repair. His soul had passed; his body hadn't caught up yet. She could see the beast had stopped. Paused. And was watching the house. Surveying. Surmising. Planning. And then her connection was lost. Her dog's heart beat its last beat. Exhaled its last breath. How she wanted to grieve but not now. Not now. "I think it's best if you stay here. You'll be safer that way." Uldarra shoved Sequil to the bed and was out the door before Sequil could react, shutting and locking the door behind her. Uldarra shook the door by the knob, rattling it in its frame, to make sure it was good and secure. She stepped back from it and took a moment to collect her thoughts. What did she need? The beast was formidable. Powerful. She could sense it. He wouldn't be scared off or deterred. He wasn't some vagrant who had stumbled across her home by accident that could be scared off. No. This man was strong. Intent. He was here on a mission and he would leave with what he came for or die trying. Uldarra didn't even think he would care if he died as long as he was able to kill off his objective beforehand. He was going to be difficult to deal with but what was his objective? And who sent him?

Banging was coming from the other side of the door, accompanied with Sequil's shrieking. "Uldarra, you let me out here. Let me out now."

"I'll be right back, dearie, right back. Have a lie down on the bed and I'll be back before you know it." Uldarra placed the key to Sequil's room back on the little hook beside the door. "Then you can see Kenok."

Kenok. How could Uldarra forget? Then a light bulb went off. That beast is here for Kenok. I better check on him before I leave. It didn't surprise her that someone had come looking for Kenok. She knew how important he was to the moment's goings on, but she thought she was the only one. Someone else must know Kenok's importance. It couldn't be a mere coincidence.

Uldarra shuffled across the main living area of her home to where Kenok lie and approached the bed. Kenok looked ghastly in the flickering light. His skin was mottled and white. A faint blue tinge was around his lips and his eyes were sunken. If anyone else came across him, they would be sure he was dead. But she knew better. She put a hand to his forehead and rested it there before closing her own eyes. She was used to his energy and felt it immediately connect with her own. In her mind, she could see what Kenok was seeing. It was dark and shadowy as if he were stuck in permanent twilight. There were beings swirling around him but none got too close. A little help of her own. He was scared as he drifted, not knowing where he was going. She knew where he needed to be but didn't know how he was going to get there. He was still alone. Which was good and bad. Good because he was safer that way for the time being but bad because events were coming to a head and he needed to be a part of them. The timing had to be precise. Uldarra couldn't do anything more though. She took her hand from Kenok's forehead and opened her own eyes, shivering slightly as she let go of the world he was traversing. She looked down at Kenok and smiled. You're almost through, Kenok. Keep going. She adjusted the blankets, hoping she made him more comfortable and left his room, locking the door behind her. Now it's time to deal with you. And her anger flared like a flame doused in gasoline. She stalked directly to the front door and peeked out the window beside it. It was pitch black and she couldn't see a thing. She scowled at the nightly conditions. Why couldn't there have been a moon? Oh, well. If it was dark for her it would be dark for him as well. Equal conditions for both. She took her staff from the rack at the door side and found her way past Kenok's bedroom to the concealed door at the back of the house, opened it and stepped out into the dark.

Chapter 31

The cold water snapped Ehcim out of his shocked state of mind. The pain of landing on the water from height was still spreading over his back and legs like a wildfire out of control but he knew he had to get out of the pond. Already he needed a breath and knew he couldn't have one. He opened his eyes only to meet murk. A pale light shone somewhere above him but he wasn't sure if it was real light or flashes of his brain because he was running out of oxygen. He made to try and swim but his leg was caught. Looking down he could see a something dark and green wrapped around his leg. He tried to reach for it, only he snagged his arms in other reeds and they coiled about his forearms and biceps like spindly pythons. It looked odd in the water. The buoyancy gave them a strange motion like they were mopey and so-so about doing it but as he tried to release himself; Ehcim knew the reeds were all business. He was theirs now and they weren't going to give him up. If he could have laughed out loud, Ehcim would have. He didn't care anymore. They could have him. His reason for living was gone. Without Ehcim to slow him down, Clhla Luth was probably halfway home. Ehcim wondered if Clhla Luth would miss him. Then he remembered the look in Clhla Luth's eyes as they fought on the struggling mnaiowk. Clhla Luth was ready to gut Ehcim right then and there. No, he won't miss me. Ehcim grew mad at the thought. Resentment was pounding through his veins. After all he had done for Clhla Luth. Never questioned. Never raised concerns for his own safety. If Clhla Luth asked him to do it, Ehcim obeyed. And where did that get me? Drowning at the bottom of some wretched pond, never getting to see my home again. Never getting to reap the rewards for my years of sacrifice. Ehcim's mirth turned to anger and he thrashed against his bonds, fighting like a man possessed, for he was possessed. He was full of hate and malice. It was driving him to survive. He would make it out of this pond and avenge himself on Clhla Luth. He freed one arm but his lungs were burning, his head swimming with stars. He had to get out. He struggled feebly with his other bound limb and felt it come free but he was spent. The rage had taken everything from him. Every last ounce of energy was gone. Without breaths to replace it he was going nowhere fast. Ehcim lay back, letting death steal over him. He felt comfortable and cozy in an odd way. He felt his leg come free and looked down to see someone swimming away from him. A pair of hands grabbed him by his tunic and dragged him up. Up and away from the muck he had felt himself sinking into. This isn't so bad.

His head broke the surface of the water and Ehcim gasped. He fought for a breath like he had never taken one before and immediately began hyperventilating. He started to panic, arms and legs flailing against his saviours as if he wanted them dead, yet couldn't be happier they had come for him. A part of him wished he were back at the bottom of the water again. At least he had been comfortable. The sun was beating into his eyes like red fire, even through slammed shut lids and he feared opening them. He was desperately trying to calm down and take slow breaths. As he was dragged farther and farther out of the water, he grew heavier and heavier. He was coughing violently now, water from breaths he didn't realize he had taken was spewing from his lungs. Ehcim was fully out of the water now. He could feel his feet dragging along the grass. He was breathing easier but wheezing as he did so. He was dropped, unceremoniously onto his back and allowed to get himself settled. The sun felt hot on his face but there was a refreshing breeze. He could hear many people about him, jostling and standing impatiently, waiting for him. Ehcim didn't want to open his eyes. He knew who they were. He also knew there was no escape this time. Once he was breathing semi normal, Ehcim was shoved over onto his stomach and pulled into a kneeling position, the clanging of weapons and drawing of bowstrings accompanying him. Ehcim stayed in that position as long as he could stand it. He didn't want to open his eyes. He knew once he did, the real trouble would begin. If he never had to open his eyes he could pretend nothing happened. If he kept his eyes closed, he wouldn't have to accept the fact he was stuck in the middle of some unspeakable nightmare. He tried to open his mind to Clhla Luth, the last hope of the wretched man. Clhla Luth was not there but a woman's voice penetrated his thoughts. Even in these circumstances, it was warm and inviting.

"Look at me, Ehcim."

Ehcim screwed his face up tight, wishing he could make it all go away. Everything. From cutting the branch off of Lefirte, right up until now. Even farther back if he could but he was here now and had to pay the price for his crimes. He didn't want to look at her. He didn't want to see her beautiful face, admonishing him with the depth of her love and forgiveness. Even after the crimes he had committed Ehcim knew he wouldn't be severely punished. The reality was they would forgive him. Find the good in him and try to bring it out to nurture when all he wanted to be shut away in some cell or hold, where he could rot for as long as it took to find the peace only his end would deliver.

"Ehcim. Please"

Ehcim knew he could delay no longer. He decided he had to face whatever was going to be and popped his eyes open as quick as he could, like someone wrenching off a Band-Aid. Queen Amhain's lovely face filled the entire spectrum of his vision, her face no more than a foot away from his. Her eyes were staring right back into his, probing, absorbing, forgiving and Ehcim started to cry. He wailed like a newborn child, a flood of memories washing over him. He didn't feel bad in a breaking the law kind of way. It was more like he could feel Queen Amhain's disappointment at what he had done, which, for reasons he didn't understand, were worse than any punishment they could deliver. He felt so low, Ehcim couldn't stand looking at her anymore and slammed his eyes shut again and threw himself on the ground, curling up into a ball as he continued to cry. Rough hands grabbed his arms and made to force him into a kneeling position again. He fought once more, trying to wrest his arms free.

"It's ok, Alrei Yqu. Let him be. You too, Meyu Kwi. Leave him where he is." Queen Amhain had never had to deal with this type of situation before and she wasn't sure how to proceed. During her reign, there had never been an incident of this magnitude. In fact, looking back into the annals of Ameuralia, one would be hard pressed to find anything within reason to compare it to. It had never happened before and so she was stuck, struggling, trying to figure out what to do. She needed to get back to the palace. Get back to the palace, out of the public eye and probe her feelings and find an answer. "Meyu Kwi, when Ehcim is ready, please bring him back to the palace. I will be ready to speak with him no matter the time of day."

"Yes, Queen Amhain."

Ehcim slumped back to the ground, thankful for the reprieve but the feelings of guilt intensified at the Queen being so nice to him. Why would she do that? Didn't she understand what he had done to her? To her and the rest of Ameuralia? The rest of the entire lands if he thought about it. If they only knew what was coming, what Clhla Luth was planning to unleash, they wouldn't hesitate to put him right back in the lake and make sure he stayed there. His sobbing eased and he listened as a large part of the contingent surrounding him fell in step with the queen and walked away. He thought briefly of running for it in the other direction but a sneak peak out of one eye told him there were more than enough remaining to deal with him. Not the least of which, a clearly agitated Meyu Kwi, was standing so close, he might as well be standing on him. Ehcim was going to have to take his lumps, as soft as they may be in this land.

Queen Amhain wasn't the only one struggling with the recent attack on the palace and escape of Clhla Luth. Her contingent was as well. They were walking so close to her as she made her way back to the palace; she was bumping into one or another with every step. There was tenseness within them and around them, heads pivoting back and forth with frantic, jerky motions, like they expected another such attack at any second. She couldn't blame them really. Up until now, their function had been largely ceremonial. They would attend official functions at the queen's side, a part of her envoy and be showered with adoration from the citizenry. Now blood had been shed on their watch and each of them felt it was on their hands alone. Comrades had died and there was nothing they could do to assuage the feeling of guilt. Guilt at their ineffectiveness. Guilt at their ineptitude. And now they aimed to make amends.

She stopped walking and the men behind her bumped into her. Those in front walked on a few more steps before realizing she had stopped and turned back, sprinting the few yards of separation between them. "Please, men. Please." She looked at each of their faces. Faces wrought with fear and anxiety. She drew her face into the warmest smile she could. "There will be no more attacks today. We can't walk in a big clump like this. Please spread out."

The men looked at one another, none wanting to be the first to leave the queens side but they did. Humbly and with trepidation, they each stepped away from the queen by four or five strides, which appeared to be the limit they wished to go as they stopped and looked to her for more guidance.

Queen Amhain smiled once again, deep and honest, as she chuckled to herself. They were all like fathers to her. Protecting their baby. She gestured toward the palace and started to walk. As one unit, the men started walking as well. Queen Amhain thought how funny it must look from the air. Her, amid this perfect square of men, as they marched back to the palace. Normally, she felt free to walk the grounds around the palace by herself. She knew she wasn't really by herself, that someone, somewhere was watching but for all intents and purposes, she was alone. Her thoughts free to drift and wander to whatever whim they fancied and her feet could follow. Those freedoms were suddenly gone. Shattered to pieces like the glass canopy of her throne room. Queen Amhain knew there would be no more attacks. Not for the time being anyway. But she had to get back to the palace. She had to get some privacy and allow herself to search deep into the psyche of her people and decide how to proceed.

Chapter 32

The sound of hooves thundered in Tagan's ears. Tears were streaming from his squinted eyes but he dared not close them. He was tucked low, bobbing and weaving in his saddle like a prize fighter in the fight of his life. The changing landscape whipped through his peripheral vision with ceaseless haste as if they were on some carousel running at full speed. Tagan feared if he closed his eyes, even to blink, one of the branches he was trying to avoid would catch him and sweep him from his saddle. He leaned out, only enough for his left eye to see what was going on. The horses were taking turns at high speed and he didn't want to be sent tumbling from his. He ducked with lightening quick speed out of the way of yet another branch, lashing out with scrabbling fingers, trying to grab him and looked ahead once more. Rean Le was at the front of their escaping procession. Unlike Tagan, she sat tall and strong in her saddle. The trees and scrubby brush they were galloping through seemed to part as she swept by, falling away in front of her like she was the prow of an icebreaker slamming through layers of frozen tundra. Nothing seemed to faze her. A turn left, a turn right. Urging her horse to sprint through the flat, dry areas. It seemed to Tagan as if she wasn't even using her reins to control the horse. Like she had some symbiotic connection with it and it picked up on her intentions, acting on them as quickly as if they had been issued from its own brain. Tagan urged his horse on anew, afraid if he fell behind he would be left there but his horse didn't need urging. It was taking its lead from Rean Le and had no intention of falling behind. Tagan leaned back to centre and reinforced his grip on the reigns, and focussed on holding on.

How long they raced, Tagan didn't know. But he could sense they were slowing down. The intensity he was feeling from his horse was subsiding but they were still moving at a fair clip. Taking a furtive look around his immediate area he could see the trees and branches had thinned and he could sit up without having to be worried about being clotheslined. Looking back, Tagan could see Stonjsin and Crenoah, sitting tall on their horses. He wondered if they had ducked low as he had. They were accomplished at travelling by horse so Tagan doubted it and it made him feel inferior. Behind Stonjsin and Crenoah were two empty horses. Tagan supposed no one thought to cut them loose. They were part of the procession so they came along.

They rode along at a gentle canter for another hour, perhaps a little more before coming to a stop. Rean Le's horse stopped and those following did as well as if they were all linked together but she didn't dismount. Tagan looked to Stonjsin, who had crept alongside him, who looked to Crenoah, on Tagan's other side. Crenoah looked at each of them in turn and shrugged his shoulders. As one they looked to Rean Le, who sat unmoving.

Rean Le could hear the horses and men behind her, hoofed feet moving in tiny, impatient steps as their muscles wound down from their flight. The men's armour creaked as they shifted uneasily in their saddles, their breathing sounding like bellows to her. She was trying to tune into the energies around her and see if they would be safe here for the time being. She had been a lone wolf for so long now she forgot what it was like to journey with a group. The thrill of the chase had awoken some part of her she had forgotten even existed and for the first time in a long time she felt alive. Exhilarated. Tapping into the energies around her had been standard operating procedure before she became trapped in this world. Once here she realized she didn't need to use it and had let the skill fade. But something had urged her to try at this time, something she couldn't put a finger on. However, she was getting nowhere. Her ability to feel the energies around her wasn't heeding her call and it made her feel feeble in some way. Impotent. But Rean Le was strong and she was enjoying being with this group so she was going to see where it went. Certain they had a comfortable head start, she turned to the others. "We'll take some rest here."

In a collective sigh Tagan, Stonjsin and Crenoah exhaled. Tagan was glad to be off this horse again. He had been riding it so long he felt they were beginning to become family. He dismounted and walked around on wobbly legs for a bit before the feeling came back to his legs and buttocks. Stonjsin and Crenoah did the same, joining Tagan once they felt comfortable.

Rean Le dismounted her horse but was still wary. She knew the people they were trying to outrun wouldn't give up on them easily. By her estimation, they had a small window of time to work with. It would have taken the Dwenar Gliv guard a while to sort out what had happened and who had escaped. They would then have to organize a team to give chase. Perhaps they had an hour to rest. She had taken them through some of the roughest terrain she could think of, which may slow down their pursuers who wouldn't be as familiar with paths off the beaten track. It could buy them an extra few minutes but it wasn't enough to make her feel as if they could stop for the night. She looked over at Tagan and the others. Her eyes kept drifting toward him. She didn't know why. He was a boy. But there was something about him.

Tagan stood up tall and stopped talking as Rean Le approached. Crenoah and Stonjsin clammed up as well but were far less intimidated by Rean Le than he was and stood loose and at ease. "We can't stay here for long."

"My guess is we have about an hour." Stonjsin looked up at the sky as if there were some tome up there only he could read.

Rean Le was impressed with his assessment of the situation. "My thoughts as well. First priority is to get some water, for us and the horses."

"I think I saw a stream some ways back." Crenoah turned to look back toward where he thought it was, hitching his thumb in the direction he meant.

"Yes, there is a little river flowing and we can get to it through here." Rean Le pointed to a little trail leading away through the bramble. "That way we don't have to back track."

"We can't all go at once." Stonjsin didn't like the idea of breaking the group up but with such a tiny trail, it would take more effort to get them all down to the stream and back. It made more sense to go in two groups.

"I agree. The river isn't far and we should keep someone here to watch the trail. Tagan and I will take four of the horses down now and you two can take the others when we get back."

"My thinking exactly." Stonjsin was beginning to like Rean Le. She had a real sense for the bush and there was no fear in her choices. He hoped they could fight together again.

Tagan almost fainted when Rean Le suggested they go to the river alone. It delighted and terrified him at the same time. Rean Le had already gone off and was rounding up some of the horses before he could even stop to think. He looked to Stonjsin, who offered only a knowing smile in return as he nodded his head. Crenoah stared at Tagan sidelong. Then to Rean Le before returning his gaze to Tagan. He didn't say anything either, his only offer a strange smirk as he clapped Tagan on the back. Tagan opened his mouth to speak but before words could come out, Rean Le had returned with her horse, his, and two of the extras.

"Ready, Tagan?" Rean Le held out two sets of reins to Tagan. She got the distinct feeling she had interrupted something as Stonjsin and Crenoah left the scene immediately, mirth filled chuckles issuing from under their breath.

"Ready." Tagan reached out to take the reins and was embarrassed to notice his hands quivering. He clenched his hands around the leather straps, flexing his arm as he did so in an attempt cover up his shakiness.

Rean Le walked past Tagan, her horses following along. The sound of more hooves gently loping told her Tagan had followed. She didn't know why she selected Tagan to accompany her. When his name came tumbling out of her mouth so easily it had surprised her as much as it had him. She used the time collecting the horses to analyze why but only kept coming back to there was something about him. Something different and she wanted to get him alone to see if she could find out what.

They walked the short distance to the stream in silence. Rean Le lost in her thoughts. Tagan too afraid to speak in case he said something foolish. Rean Le stepped over the stream, holding the reins loosely in her hand as the horses took in large gulps of water.

Tagan followed Rean Le's lead once they arrived at the stream. It was narrow and babbled quietly as the water drifted by. He joined her on the opposing bank, pretending to be absorbed with the horses drinking so he didn't have to make eye contact.

"Tagan." Rean Le felt odd. She was a warrior and a princess. Men and women were intimidated to approach her, not the other way around. She had been raised to be able to speak her mind on any topic. Without fear. Without malice. Yet here she was cooing like a teenage girl trying to tame her feelings.

Tagan started as Rean Le spoke to him and tried to maintain eye contact with the stream he was pretending to be so absorbed in but he could feel her looking at him. Her beautiful eyes were boring holes straight through his skull.

"Tagan, I have to ask you something."

Tagan looked to the skies to buy himself a little time, hoping an answer would come from on high but there was nothing. He turned to Rean Le, a weak smile across his lips. He was sure his trembling was speaking volumes about how she made him feel. He didn't need to say anything. Rean Le's face was so close to his he could almost feel her breath. Her skin was so soft looking. As if someone had pieced together the softest substances they could find and made her skin with it. "Yes?" Tagan's throat squeaked and he stopped talking so he could clear it. "What would you like to know?"

Rean Le smiled. As much as he tried to hide it, Tagan's voice was wavering like a flag caught in a strong breeze. It was cute and made Rean Le feel even more girlish. "When we first met."

Tagan nodded; glad he didn't have to use his voice again for the time being.

"When you and Braulor." They both winced as Rean Le used Tagan's brother's name. "And the others approached me on the trail; you said you were going to find the Amber Eye."

"We are." Tagan had almost forgotten the whole reason they were out here. The whole reason Stonjsin and Crenoah had given up returning to the tribe. The reason why Braulor was... Was... Tagan didn't know where Braulor was but denied to himself Braulor was gone for good.

"Are you treasure hunters or something? Why are you after the Amber Eye?"

"I was tasked to it. To find you. I was told you could help me find the Amber Eye."

"Who would have told you such a thing?"

"It was," Tagan stopped, unsure of what to say. Meyu Kwi had told him about Rean Le so there was a connection there but he was worried about how much to reveal. Thinking of Braulor reminded him how much he needed someone to guide him. Braulor had been strong and seemed to have an idea of what to do in any situation. Tagan didn't have any idea and it was dawning on him he had to have Rean Le's help. Saying too much now could ruin everything. Saying too little could have the same effect. Best to be honest he thought. "It was Meyu Kwi."

Rean Le felt like she had been hit in the chest with a horse's kick. Her heart skipped a beat. Possibly two or three. All she could do was stand there, gaping at Tagan like he had told her the secret of the universe. Meyu Kwi. How did Tagan know of Meyu Kwi?

"Are you alright, Rean Le?" Tagan didn't expect her to have this type of reaction and was concerned at her sudden change.

"Yes. Yes, Tagan. I'm ok." Rean Le was flustered but now the flood gates were open, she needed to find out more. "How do you know of Meyu Kwi?"

Tagan had come this far and he didn't see any reason to hold back now. Rean Le was from Ameuralia. She had tried to find the Amber Eye herself, giving up everything in the process. If there was someone he should be able to trust, it had to be Rean Le. "I can see into another world. Your world."

Rean Le's jaw dropped, the horse's reins she was holding doing the same as her grip went slack. "You can see into Quanna Eresse?" Rean Le's voice was exalted and hoarse as if she were talking to a god. The last time she had physically laid eyes on Quanna Eresse was the strongest memory she had. She held onto it like a child would hold onto a piece of candy. She savoured it when she was alone. Let it embrace her when she was down. Let it empower her when she felt weak and afraid.

Tagan stooped and gathered the reins Rean Le had dropped. He stood and looked her in eye, nodding his consent.

Rean Le had so many questions; she didn't know where to start. Her business side kicked in though and she realized the horses were standing there staring at them as they conversed as if they too were rapt with Tagan's pronouncement. "The horses are done. We should get back so the others can get a drink."

Tagan nodded but felt shortchanged. He was starting to feel a shift in how he felt around Rean Le and he didn't want it to end. He wanted to keep talking but he stepped in line behind her as she walked back to the trail.

Stonjsin and Crenoah were watching for them to come back. They looked relieved as Rean Le emerged from the trail followed by a pair of horses. They both smiled wide as Tagan brought up the rear. They had been prepared to take the next set of horses and slipped away down the trail almost as soon as Tagan and Rean Le had left it.

Rean Le fidgeted with the horses, her mind not really on what she was doing. She felt like she was losing control. The wall she had built up to protect herself had taken many hits but none as severe as the blow Tagan had delivered. He had seen Quanna Eresse. He had talked to Meyu Kwi. How much did Tagan now know? She would have to find out later. For now, her mind longed to see Quanna Eresse with her own eyes once more and an idea was prancing around her brain like a soloist in the spotlight. She spun to look at him. He was standing like a statue, watching down the trail where Stonjsin and Crenoah had gone. "Tagan."

Tagan had been suspecting there would be follow up questions so Rean Le's use of his name didn't surprise or startle him. "I'm sorry if I was out of line, Rean Le, but I felt you needed to know the truth."

"It's ok, Tagan. I'm glad you shared with me."

Tagan was relieved but at the same time could feel this wasn't about to be dropped anytime soon.

"How do you see Quanna Eresse? I've never encountered anyone here who had the ability to do so before."

Tagan shrugged. "I don't really know. I've been able to my whole life. Quanna Eresse has always been there, although I only recently found out it was called Quanna Eresse."

"So you can see Quanna Eresse right now?"

"No. It doesn't work like that. It's more like I have to allow myself to see it. I have to let my thoughts drift and get away from all the day to day chatter in my head. Then Quanna Eresse is there."

Rean Le thought for a moment. "Can you show me?"

Tagan almost fainted. His eyes flew open wide, his mouth ajar. "I..., I... I don't know. I mean, I've never done that before and besides, it's been really difficult lately."

"I can help you, Tagan. I know the way there. Let me be your guide and see it through your eyes." Rean Le stepped toward Tagan. This is the idea that had been haunting her mind since Tagan told her he could see Quanna Eresse. It had been so long for her and she was desperate to see it again.

Tagan didn't fail to notice how Rean Le had closed the distance between them. As she drew close, feelings he thought he had won the battle against were reinvigorated. "How can you help me?"

"I can help you achieve the state of mind you need to be in."

"But how will you be able to see Quanna Eresse through me?"

"Connecting to other minds is second nature to those in Quanna Eresse. I admit, it has been a very long time since I tried but I should be able to connect with you and if I can, I'll see what you see."

Rean Le was so close now; Tagan could see the eagerness etched in her eyes. The angst of needing something so bad but it was out of reach. "Ok. I'll give it a try. What do I need to do?"

Rean Le's face went from stern to ecstatic in the blink of an eye. She wasn't aware of clenching her jaw and tensing her face but she could feel the release. The relief washing over her like the warmth of a fire after coming in from the cold. She spun away from Tagan and made sure the horses were tethered to the nearest branches. Returning to Tagan, she took him by the hand and led him to small patch of mossy grass underneath a tree and sat down.

Tagan sat down as well, facing Rean Le. His heart was pounding so hard it wouldn't surprise him if Stonjsin and Crenoah could hear it from where they were. He was certain there was no way he could pull this off. He was too excited. Too scared. Too everything with Rean Le so close. He fixed his gaze on her heavenly face. As he stared into her eyes, he could feel his heartbeat slow as if she had given him some sort of drug. His limbs relaxed as well and he began to take deep, soothing breaths.

Rean Le could feel Tagan relax, which was good. She was having enough problems keeping her own emotions in check let alone helping him relax. She reached out and took his hands once again, placing them on his crossed legs, palm up. She took a deep breath of her own and looked deep into Tagan's eyes as if she were trying to climb through them. She put her hands an inch or two above his and continued to stare into Tagan's eyes.

Besides being very relaxed, Tagan didn't feel much else until Rean Le's hands were above his. His palms itched and tingled. He had to resist the urge to scratch them. The itching grew increasingly intense but plateaued and became more like a pleasant vibration. Out of his thoughts, Quanna Eresse appeared. He could see it but it wasn't as vivid as at other times. It was as if it was shrouded in a fog which was obscuring him from getting a clear sight of it. He wondered if Rean Le could see what he could see but decided not to say anything and risk ruining the bond. He tried hard to force Quanna Eresse into sharper relief and little by little it did, when Tagan noticed he was on a path. The path to Quanna Eresse was laid out in front of him. Straight and true. Majestic. But there was a second path. The second path was obscured with shadow and almost invisible but he knew it was there and it was calling to him. It was the path he wanted to take. This was what was causing his problem with seeing Quanna Eresse. Something about this path was obfuscating his vision, luring his attention away. He remembered why he was here and forced himself to look at Quanna Eresse again. He had to do it for Rean Le. He didn't want to let her down. He moved away from the darker path with reluctance and stood staring at Quanna Eresse as it sprang to life in all its glory.

Branches were snapping, feet pounding hard on the ground. Tagan opened his eyes. Rean Le was sitting across from him, her eyes still open but vacant. Tears were streaming down her face.

"They found us. We've got to go." Stonjsin was ahead of Crenoah and came across Tagan and Rean Le. He wanted to know what was going on but there would time for that later. "Now." He shouted when neither of them moved.

Tagan touched Rean Le on the leg and in a heartbeat, she was on her feet wiping the tears from her cheeks as if she was fully aware of everything going on.

Rean Le looked to Stonjsin and Crenoah. They were both scrambling onto their horses. She hoisted Tagan up and ran to their horses, untying them in a flash.

Tagan took the reins to his horse and swung into the saddle. The sound of horses and men was coming at them like a wave. Rean Le took off like she had been fired from a cannon and the rest of the horses didn't need any urging to do the same.

Chapter 33

Uldarra pushed the door shut. It closed with stealth as if it was in on keeping the secret of her exiting the house. She stood still, letting the darkness settle around her, enveloping her like the hug of an old friend. The air was cold and crisp, a hint of the changing seasons. She breathed deep of it, letting the feeling drift into her lungs, pushing them out and relaxing her. It wasn't to calm her down. This was her home. She had chosen this spot to dwell for a reason and she felt quite at ease, even with the current circumstances. Her dogs were dead. She knew that but she wasn't sad for their passing. They had provided her great service and she gave them a loving, comfortable life. They had died protecting her and she was deeply indebted to them. Besides, she may see them again. But she didn't want to think about what that meant right now. Uldarra had built her home here, seemingly out in the middle of nowhere, for the most part because it afforded her the peace and quiet she preferred. A place where she could be herself. The distance from the closest town kept the lookie loos away. The mythos attached to her name helped she admitted to herself. But the main reason Uldarra chose to live here is the energy in this area was particularly strong. Everything on the property was imbued with power. A fathomless power, rich in antiquity. A power that seemed to reach across time, backward and forward and mesh them together. Merge them like some sort of focal point or vortex. It reminded her in a way of Lefirte, like a little offshoot perhaps. A root of the original. But the power was only useful to those who knew how to access it. How to harness and wield it. Most would happen across a power such as this and feel elated but not know why. It would be a passing fancy to them, no different than if they had run into an old friend or found something they had thought lost forever. But Uldarra was not like most people. She knew the energy existed and had come here seeking it out. She wanted to tap into it. To work with it. Use it to put unfolding history on the correct path.

Uldarra could feel it at work now, pulsing into her consciousness in waves, feeding her information. Information about Kenok. Information about Braulor. About a few others she didn't know but could sense they were a part of this chapter. Closer too, she could sense the person stalking them. The person responsible for her dogs' demise. A spike of resentment lanced through her. No, no. He's tied into this as well. He needs to play out his part. A thumping of a wall to her right followed by "Let me out of here." Sequil, no doubt unhappy being stuck in the little room. Uldarra whispered out loud, seemingly to no one. "In a moment, dearie. This won't take long."

The thumping stopped and Uldarra gave a short nod. That's better. Now, which way to go?

Uldarra tapped into the energy of the property with her full attention, probing it to see if it could reveal anything of her foe. It was no man. At least, no man born of this world. Like herself, he was born of a time long past. She wondered about him, having many questions but for now she needed the basics. He was big and powerful. She could sense he had ability beyond the normal range of man. Ability like hers, perhaps, but blunted. Not as acute. This concerned Uldarra as it took away her main advantage. Maybe not take it away completely, as she had many tricks in her arsenal, but it added an extra layer of difficulty she was reticent of. He was no ordinary folk she could scare off with little effort. He was here on business and wouldn't be leaving without what he came for. And what is he carrying? Uldarra's sensed the man had with him something not of this world. It caught her attention and she focussed on it, tightening her scope on the object like a laser beam. She smiled to herself, reassured. Yes, the universe worked in strange ways, often forcing one through many trials and tribulations to make sure lessons were learned. In some cases, it dropped what was needed right in your lap. She couldn't have asked for anything better. The man started moving, jarring Uldarra, forcing her to ready herself sooner than she would have liked.

She stepped away from the house, walking with slow, measured steps, making sure her footfalls were delicate and precise. She suspected the man had a base knowledge of the energies of her property, otherwise he would have charged in to her house after taking care of the dogs. She didn't want to tip him off in any way. As she walked, she spoke. At first only to herself but soon enough words drifted from her mouth in a soft whisper. It was so quiet she couldn't even hear it herself. She was calling to the energies around the property. Seeking them, asking them for assistance. With a sentience she had long ago dismissed as a figment of her imagination, they responded to her call, enveloping her. She could feel the energy swirling around her, consuming her from the feet up as she gave herself over to it. It crept up her body in tingling, vibrating throbs, as if she were wading into water. The energy penetrated through flesh and bone and blood. It seeped into her mind as if it were issuing from a leak somewhere. She allowed it to happen. She willed it to happen. Once she felt she had become a part of it, she could feel everything. Every nuance the energy was connected to was hers for using. She had to be careful. On more than one occasion Uldarra had almost lost herself in this place. It was easy to do so she trained her focus on her intention. The man was still moving. Slow and guarded, the man crept, taking a step and then stopping. Reassessing. Then stepping again. His mind was like a machine, performing hundreds of calculations with every changed angle. He was casing the house. Looking for the easiest point of entry. Looking for a weakness. Uldarra's first thought was to approach from behind but changed her mind immediately. It was exactly what he wanted her to do and she wasn't going to walk into his plan. She had to force him out of his comfort zone and into what she wanted. Changing tack, she set an intercept course that would bring her right to his face. She felt no fear. She was a part of the energy and it of her. There was no way he would see her coming.

Chapter 34

"You can stay here. We're in the palace now. I should be safe." Queen Amhain bid her entourage to stay behind. There was no way she would get any thinking done with a pack of people following her around and watching her every move. She knew they were worried about more attacks but Queen Amhain felt sure it was a one-time thing. It was Clhla Luth's doing and with him gone back to wherever he came from, they needn't be overly concerned.

Her group talked in hushed whispers as she left them behind. She could feel their eyes watching her like a hawk, even still. She could sense their tension rising the further away she got from them, which was ok as well. In time, everything would return to normal.

Queen Amhain thought about going to her private quarters but changed her mind, choosing instead to return to the scene of the crime. Arriving at the doors to the chamber she stopped, nodding to the guards now posted on either side. Already the world was different. It seemed like years ago she came barging out of the doors amid the chaos and aftermath of Clhla Luth's dramatic escape. She was somewhat surprised the doors were closed. After the force with which they had been forced open, she would have thought they would never be shut again. She readied herself and pulled the doors open. They creaked and groaned, wobbling as they widened. She swept inside, swift and purposeful, yet holding her breath as a means to brace herself. She stopped few steps inside the doors and took everything in, her head swivelling side to side. The room wasn't as bad as she had thought it would be. The injured and dead were removed. The smashed table was standing once again, mended but bearing a large scar down its top for a souvenir. Palace staff were crawling around on all fours, scouring the room for every last piece of the glass canopy Clhla Luth's wicked creation had smashed through. Queen Amhain fought back her tears, stifling the sorrowful moan accompanying it. They would make it right again. They would make everything right again.

Her personal assistant spotted her and stood up, charging toward her, apologizing for not taking notice of her earlier.

"It's ok, Malein. You needn't worry yourself."

Malein was fussing with her dress, trying to straighten it out after crawling about the floor. "Yes, my queen. Did they catch him?"

Queen Amhain only shook her head. "But we did capture his accomplice. Or should I say recaptured."

Malein gasped and recoiled at the thought. "What are you going to do with him, my lady?"

"I don't know, Malein. I don't know." In her walk back to the palace, Queen Amhain had tried to come up with an answer to that very question but none were forthcoming. She knew Ehcim should be punished. Should be made an example of but had they come to this already? She tried to remember a time any of her lineage had been faced with a similar dilemma but couldn't find any precedence. Whatever she chose to do, they would be breaking new ground.

"He is a nasty man and needs to be punished."

"Well, I don't have much time to figure it out. I have instructed Meyu Kwi to bring Ehcim to me. Please show them to my ready room when they arrive, Malein."

"My queen. Should you see him right away like that? You need time to arrange a proper tribunal or inquest or something. Besides, some time locked up could do nothing but good for a man like him."

Queen Amhain stared at Malein. She had never heard Malein speak ill of anything or anyone before. Her attitude was jarring but another sign of changing times. "Yes Malein. I would like to see him right away. I have a feeling Clhla Luth has loftier irons in the fire. I need to find out what they are before it's too late."

"You know best, my queen." Malein bowed her head and went back to work trying to find glass shards.

Queen Amhain watched the staff work. They were so driven to find every piece. As much as she could feel everything had changed, her people hadn't. They were rising to the occasion as they always did. She slipped silently away, padding beside her throne and down the stairs behind. A seed of an idea was forming in her mind and she needed to ready a few things before Meyu Kwi arrived with Ehcim.

Meyu Kwi walked directly behind Ehcim, keeping him within arm's reach. Alrei Yqu was to his right, strolling a little way behind. All together there was about twenty of them for this one man. But what this one man had done was unspeakable. To attack Lefirte was abominable enough, to attack the palace and the Queen. Well that was unfathomable. The procession marched in solemn silence as if they were part of a funeral. Townspeople were beginning to turn up to get a look at the man who had done this to their home.

Ehcim walked erect, tall and proud as if he were a nobleman. He smiled as he passed people, happy to see them turn away or shake their head at him. What did they know of him? He was in the middle of the group, hemmed in on all sides by men. He had given up any thoughts of escape. There was no way he could get away on foot. So, he strode with all the dignity he could muster.

The group was like a school of fish. When the lead man turned, they all did in unison. In this fashion, they made their way back into the palace. Ehcim was impressed. He hadn't seen the palace from the front. When they had caught him with the Lefirte branch, they brought him in the back.

They found themselves in the same room he had escaped from, however long ago it had been. It seemed like forever but in reality, only an hour or so had passed.

"Wait here." Meyu Kwi put a hand on Ehcim's shoulder, directing him to stop. The rest of the men stopped and formed a tight circle around Ehcim as Meyu Kwi disappeared behind the throne.

Meyu Kwi was gone for quite a lengthy time. Ehcim was beginning to tire from standing in the same spot for so long. He was seriously thinking about throwing himself to the floor right here when Meyu Kwi returned.

Ehcim tried to get a reading from Meyu Kwi but his face was solemn and stern as if it were made of stone.

"Queen Amhain will see you now." Meyu Kwi kept his voice even and controlled. He was still processing what Queen Amhain had discussed with him. He had made his views very clear, stopping short of outright anger and disobedience. But she was the Queen and he had little choice but to follow her wishes, as much he disagreed.

Ehcim looked from Meyu Kwi to the back of the throne area. He had been on those steps, coming in a side door as they led him in to face them with Clhla Luth. He had marched right by the door to the queen's quarters and knew where to go so he took a step forward expecting Meyu Kwi to fall in behind him. He didn't.

Ehcim took another step and Meyu Kwi remained standing where he was, hands on hips, lips pursed tight in a nasty scowl. None of the other guards made a move to follow either, which concerned Ehcim. They're going to let me see the queen alone? He found it ridiculous to think so but before he knew it, he was standing in front of the door to the queen's chamber, unsure of what to do. Should I knock? Should I wait? In the end, he decided to march right in and take control of the situation. He opened the door, pushing it inward, stepped inside and found himself alone with the queen. She was sitting at the end of a long table. It was ornate, carved with magnificent craftsmanship. The queen was her usual radiant self. He had looked at her before but didn't see her. Queen Amhain was stunning. Her skin. Her hair. The way she dressed. It was as if someone had built a doll and brought it to life. She smiled brightly at him and gestured for him to sit. Ehcim stalked to the chair she had offered and dropped into it trying to maintain some of the bravado he had walked in with.

Queen Amhain looked at Ehcim, her face neutral. Up until this very minute she hadn't fully committed to what she had discussed with Meyu Kwi but she felt sure now. There was no other option so she didn't waste any time. "You're free to go, Ehcim."

Ehcim looked around, not knowing what he was looking for. Maybe he was looking to see if he was caught in some sort of dream and guards were going to pour into the room and deliver his real punishment. How could they let him go? He had desecrated their most sacred item. The one thing uniting the entire citizenry and he had come along and attacked it without reason. Without provocation. Now they would let him walk away. It even sounded ridiculous as he repeated it. "Free to go?"

"Yes. Free to go." Queen Amhain knew it sounded ludicrous. Ehcim had attacked the most sacred thing in Ameuralia. He should be punished in some way, she knew that, but there was no capacity for it in her realm. They had nowhere to house him and keeping him would draw Clhla Luth's attention again. Clhla Luth had come all the way back here and attempted to retrieve him. He would try once more when he had completed whatever it was he wanted the branch for. If Ehcim wasn't here, Clhla Luth would have no reason to return and endanger the citizens. And what Clhla Luth was up to with the branch was what Queen Amhain needed to know. What Ehcim was going to help her find out, whether he was aware of it or not.

Ehcim wasn't buying it. It seemed too good to be true and therefore couldn't be. "So, I can leave?"

"Yes."

"No one's going to try and stop me? Nobody is going to shoot me down?"

Queen Amhain chuckled. She could understand his reticence. "No one will try to stop you, Ehcim. In fact, I have made arrangements for you to be given one of our fair horses to take you on your way. All I ask is when you get to where you going, set him free so he can return to us."

Ehcim stared at the Queen for seconds but it seemed like they stretched out into eternity. She maintained her smile and he couldn't read her one way or another. He put his hands on the arm of his chair and made to stand up. If he was free to go, he decided he better get while the getting was good.

Queen Amhain put her hand out, placing it on top of Ehcim's. "If you will indulge me, I do have some questions though before you leave."

Ehcim froze as Queen Amhain touched him. He dropped back into his chair with a heavy sigh and sat silent, not moving. He knew it wasn't going to be that easy, that there would be a catch to his freedom. He had been expecting to be questioned but thought it would be at the hands of some guard and not the Queen. "Questions?"

Queen Amhain disregarded the sarcasm in Ehcim's voice, as well as the eye roll. She took her hand back from atop Ehcim's and leaned back in her chair. "A few, Ehcim, to satisfy my personal curiosity besides, the horse is not ready yet."

Ehcim raised his eyebrows, waiting.

Queen Amhain took it as a sign to go ahead. "What does Clhla Luth want with a piece of Lefirte?"

Might as well start with the hard stuff huh? Ehcim licked his lips. "I don't know."

Queen Amhain shifted in her chair, easing to one side. "Come now, Ehcim. He came all this way for it and you, if he could have managed it. Clearly it is very important to him. I can deduce that for myself. What I can't figure out is, why?"

"Clhla Luth didn't share with me the particulars of why. I am his servant, and he bid me to retrieve it for him."

"And that's it? You were doing what you were told?"

Ehcim nodded.

Queen Amhain took a breath, recalculating. She had hoped the offer of letting Ehcim go would soften him and get him talking but he was having none of it. Even after Clhla Luth had shoved Ehcim off his steed during the escape, he was loyal to Clhla Luth and would die for him if he had to. "Where did Clhla Luth return to?"

Ehcim could feel a change in the queen's tone. He wondered if she was having second thoughts about letting him go but he wasn't going to turn tail now. "I can't tell you that."

"You can, but you won't. Clhla Luth should be proud you are so loyal to him." Queen Amhain stopped short of continuing her thought. Going on may jeopardize her whole plan.

The door to her chambers opened and Ehcim jumped, gripping the arms of his chair.

Meyu Kwi entered the room, carrying a wooden box. He marched directly to the Queen and put the box on the table in front of her.

"Thank you, Meyu Kwi."

Meyu Kwi nodded and stepped back from the table but didn't leave the room.

"Is the horse ready for Ehcim?"

"Yes, my queen

Ehcim eyed Meyu Kwi. He was leery and suspicious; a large part of him still didn't want to believe they were going just let him go.

Queen Amhain leaned forward, taking a long, hard look at the box Meyu Kwi had placed in front of her. She ran her hands along the top and then down each side, caressing it as if it were treasure. "You are free to go, as I said, Ehcim but I would ask you to do me this one favour. A show of respect for your release."

"And what would that be?" Ehcim didn't like the thought of a condition being placed on him. He didn't want any strings attached or to owe anyone anything. But when freedom is your carrot, there aren't a lot of hard choices to be made.

"Take this box and deliver it to Clhla Luth." Queen Amhain turned the box so the opening was facing Ehcim and slid it toward him.

Ehcim was growing suspicious. Was there some horrible poison in there?

"You can open it. It's ok." Queen Amhain could tell from the look on Ehcim's face he was apprehensive.

Ehcim reached out and took the box, holding it in both hands, and turned it over and over looking for any signs of foul play. To his eyes it seemed it was a wooden box, nothing more, nothing less. Perhaps it was a bit grandiose, but nothing seemed out of place. He held it in his left hand, lifting the lid with his right hand as if he were expecting a den of vipers to fly out of it. Nothing happened so he pushed the lid all the way open. Ehcim's eyes widened with awe, his chin hanging open as he stared at it.

Queen Amhain nodded her face solemn. "It's a gift, Ehcim, a gift from Clhla Luth's mother. She wanted him to have it."

Ehcim snapped the lid shut, not wanting to look at it any longer. It was drawing emotions from him he didn't want to face.

"Do I have your word you will give it to Clhla Luth?" Queen Amhain locked her eyes onto Ehcim's. Even if he lied now and denied he was going back to Clhla Luth, she knew better. She was trying to impress upon him how urgent it was he give the box to Clhla Luth.

"Yes." Ehcim didn't feel the need to say anything more. It seemed easy enough and delivering it to Clhla Luth would complete the contract for his release. He wouldn't be in debt to the queen for anything. It was only a jewel. How much harm could it do?

"Then you are free to go." Queen Amhain stood as Ehcim did. It was out of habit and not anything else. She pointed to a door opposite the one he had entered in. It opened and a tall, lanky guard stepped inside. "If you follow Vemlar, he will take you to your horse."

Ehcim tucked the box under his arm and took timid steps around the table, past Meyu Kwi, who scowled at him, then toward the door Vemlar was holding open. At the threshold, he stopped as the queen addressed him one last time.

"And, Ehcim. Please don't ever return to Ameuralia. I won't be so lenient next time."

Ehcim didn't do the courtesy of looking at her, nodding his assent into the hallway and left the room, Vemlar trailing in his wake.

Chapter 35

"Do you ever sleep, Draax?" The question had been permeating Braulor's thought process for the last while. He didn't know how long because there was nothing for him to gauge time with here. The terrain seemed to roll on without changing, no matter how far they walked as if they were on some twilight treadmill. Braulor didn't feel tired himself. He asked out of sheer boredom. The scenery they were passing was monotonous, droning on in the same shapes and shades. He needed to do something or he thought he may go mad.

"Sleep?" Draax was confused. He recognized the word and knew what Braulor meant but he didn't recall sleeping since he arrived here. There had been no need. He turned to Braulor and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I don't need to sleep." Draax smiled again and turned back toward the trail ahead.

Braulor wasn't surprised by Draax's answer. He shook his head and tried to think back to the last time he had actually enjoyed a night's sleep. It had to be the night Tagan, himself and the others had taken refuge in the cave at Vjeinka Rise. Since then they had spelunked through the Knalb Mountains and out the other side, traversing the harrowing escape path the tribe had made. Looking back, it seemed like incredible foresight to do such thing. Then they made their way through the outskirts of Dwenar Gliv in their search for Rean Le. They had found her and presented their case only for her to flat out refuse to help them. What they were going to do without her was something he had never entertained thought of. It had seemed like a done deal. Find her, the quest continues. As the shock of Rean Le's refusal was still sinking in, Lozan arrived and with him the scaly being he had seen when they escaped Brankin Huoh. The resulting battle ended for him when the Shadowkeeper descended on he and Alrei Yqu? as they struggled for the staff. By all means, Braulor should be exhausted yet he didn't feel tired. He didn't feel anything. Not alive. Not dead. Nothing. Aside from when he had first awoken in Tâ Oandimn, he had neither slept nor rested. He could trace everything back to the arrival of the staff in his life. And here it was, keeping him alive, if he really was alive.

Braulor thought about the Shadowkeeper once more. It wasn't the first time but as he spent more time in Tâ Oandimn, the more it seemed logical to him the shadow was from here. The way he had directed Braulor toward Tâ Oandimn alone as he and the scaly being fought spoke volumes. But why? And how did he get out of here? Again, it had to do with the staff. He remembered Stonjsin and Crenoah telling him of Jolon having the staff right before the attack on the Greejon clan came. But it was only a staff. Or was it? Braulor remembered the first time he had picked it up. Touching it made his heart sing and something in him changed as he continued to hold it. It was as if some part of him was awakening. He felt connected to it in a deeply personal way. He couldn't help but feel the staff was in some way, conducting things. Setting events in order and he was only carrying it for this portion of its adventure.

"Do you know anything about the Shadowkeeper?" Braulor had expected another shrug from Draax and was surprised when Draax stopped walking.

"What do you mean the Shadowkeeper?" Draax knew who Braulor was talking about but didn't want to let on. He didn't want to speak of him in case it drew him to them and Draax would be punished even more.

Braulor didn't know how to explain what he meant. They were surrounded by shadow. It was everywhere they looked but he had a suspicion Draax knew who he was talking about. "Look, Draax. Before I came here I was in another place. A place called Dwenar Gliv. I was fighting with a man over this staff." Braulor brandished the staff in Draax's direction to make sure he knew what he was talking about. "Then as we fought a shadow being descended on us and we disappeared from Dwenar Gliv. I was. Well, I don't know where I was but all three of us were still fighting and then the Shadowkeeper won out. Pushing me toward Tâ Oandimn while he and the other man continued to fight. I want to know who the Shadowkeeper is."

Draax was about to shrug again but he knew Braulor wouldn't believe him. He had started to shake. Unknown memories were teasing at the fringes of his brain. They were like shadows themselves but they were playing out a scene. A terrible scene, where Draax was being tortured, while the Shadowkeeper looked on, conducting things. "I don't know what his real name is."

Draax's normal buoyant and happy voice had changed. It was quiet like a hiss, with a dead serious tone sending shivers down Braulor's back, even in this place. As if Draax were afraid to say the name out loud. "But you know who he is?"

"Yes, I know who he is. He is the master of Tâ Oandimn."

"The master?"

Draax nodded his face impassive. "He is the one who greets you when you arrive in Tâ Oandimn. He does what he wants to you and takes what he wants from you."

Draax's voice was so taut, Braulor wasn't sure he wanted to hear anymore but he pressed on. "And he met you when you arrived?"

Draax nodded again but didn't say anymore.

"So what happened?"

Draax didn't know what to say. He could remember various points before and after meeting the Shadowkeeper but being confronted by him was like a flash point. Everything before was irrelevant. All that mattered was what came afterward. Draax knew the Shadowkeeper had assaulted him in some way. Viciously and with evil intent the Shadowkeeper had reduced him to what he was now. He couldn't remember what he had lost but he knew it was significant. "He." Draax stopped and composed himself. "He took things from me. Precious things." and he began walking again.

Braulor narrowed his eyes wondering what Draax meant. What could someone take from him here? To Braulor it appeared there was nothing of value here. Nothing of meaning but he dropped his line of questioning as he could tell he was making Draax uncomfortable. He didn't need to worry anyway. They walked on in silence, rounding a bend in the path when Draax grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. Braulor looked to Draax. Draax shook his head, putting his finger to his lips and then pointing ahead. They had arrived at Kasadu.

"Stop now."

His minions were in shock. Ceasing their assault but not moving away from their target. They weren't sure they had heard correctly and didn't want to give up too easily. Grawton didn't care. He was beside himself with equal parts of disbelief and joy. If he ever felt such a thing as joy. He supposed this was as close as it would ever get for him. He was excited. Excited like he had never been before. The arc of many plans, most of which were nefarious, all of which were filled with evil intent danced around his head like he had discovered gold. He could see the steps he needed to usurp Karuuk' Ul's power stretching out in front of him like a game. He only needed to make x happen to achieve y. Looking down at Kenok, cowering in front of him, it all seemed so clear. So simple. To oust Karuuk Ul he needed the staff. Braulor had the staff. And it was here in Tâ Oandimn. He couldn't believe his good fortune. It was if a host of evil gods had gotten together and realized Grawton's time had come and stepped in to make sure he received his due.

"I said stop." Grawton drifted toward them from where he had been watching them torment the new soul. In a heartbeat, everything had changed. Grawton wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth and he for sure wasn't about to let them savage Kenok any further. With a flick of his hand he dismissed his group. With reluctance, one by one, they disappeared until Grawton was left alone with Kenok.

Grawton stayed a few feet from Kenok, surveying him from all angles. It was odd Kenok was here in Tâ Oandimn at all. Looking at him, he was nothing to speak of. Kenok's soul was almost a pure white. Luminescent to the point of making Grawton squint his eyes. From where Grawton was there was no reason for Kenok to be here, yet here he was. Grawton could detect a small swipe of darkness on an otherwise pristine soul. It was so infinitesimal Grawton would could have dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. He knew what the swipe of darkness was for. It was for a marital transgression. A simple mistake made so long ago, it was ancient history from any perspective you cared to look at it. Grawton was used to dealing with evil men. Killers. Rapists. Men having committed atrocities so vulgar even he was impressed. But Kenok? He was a caring man. A loving man. Since his misstep he had spent a lifetime living in regret and pouring his heart and soul into his family. Kenok's deeds could hardly be counted among the evil hordes residing in Tâ Oandimn. What to do? Grawton had been handed an extraordinary opportunity. He had to take advantage of it. "How did you get here, Kenok?"

Kenok was still kneeling. Even though his attackers had gone, he felt the need to protect himself. "I'm not sure. I was running from a beast. A beast of a man. He had attacked me in my house and we were trying to get away." Kenok remembered Sequil and shivered, suppressing the lancing pain he felt.

Grawton was still sizing Kenok up and didn't answer right away. He could get a sense of what Kenok was talking about but it wasn't clear to him. "Running from a man, doesn't explain how you got here."

"Look. I don't know what you want. I was trying to get away from a man and I ended up here. How, I don't know. Where is here anyway?"

Grawton regarded Kenok like a cat bullying a mouse he had caught. "Here, Kenok, is called Tâ Oandimn and I for one am glad you are here."

"Glad?"

"Yes. Very glad actually."

"And why is that?"

Grawton drifted so close to Kenok, they were almost touching. His face was right in Kenok's. If Grawton had a sense of smell, he would have been able to smell whatever was on Kenok's breath. "You, Kenok, have arrived in the nick of time to help me out of a predicament I had no idea how to solve."

Chapter 36

Tyhreb had seen enough from this viewpoint. As fate would have it, he was looking straight on to the house's front. The tracks he had followed led him right to this point but he needed to get a better look at the rest of house before he could come up with a plan of attack. Normally he wouldn't be so reticent. The odds were in his favour. As far as he could tell, Kenok was injured and in no condition to fight back. The clues Tyhreb had found while he was tracking them spoke to Kenok's injury. There were many swaths of blood before they stopped. Meaning someone had patched Kenok up as he was unable to do it himself. Which left Sequil and as far as Tyhreb was concerned, she was no threat to him. If she was lucky he might even let her live, even though he was still feeling the effects of the fluid she had thrown in his eyes. His fists clenched as he remembered the assault. The sticking point was whoever had intercepted Kenok and Sequil. Tyhreb knew it was a woman and shouldn't pose any risk to him. He should be able to march in there and incapacitate the two women and be gone with Kenok before they even woke up. Yet, there was something about the woman. She was an unknown. And then there was the house and land it occupied. Tyhreb could feel a different energy at work here. He hadn't felt this type of energy before and couldn't explain it but he knew he was right. He needed more intel before doing anything hasty. He eased up from his crouching position but not to full standing height. He remained bent over, standing high enough to give his legs room to move. He inched his way backward, keeping a wary eye on the dog corpses at his feet. He felt sure they were dead but didn't want to step on one and find out it's not or cause it to make noise which would give him away. Once clear of the dogs, he stood to full height but remained facing the house, not wanting to miss a single detail. He stepped with supreme precision to his right, left foot coming over right, placing it on the ground as if he setting a delicate piece of glass and then paused. Everything seemed the same so he repeated the process, stopping with every footfall. It was a slow process but he felt he had to take the time.

Thump. Thump, Thump.

Tyhreb froze, his hand grasping the nearest weapon out of habit. The thumping was coming from the house and he could hear yelling. Very faint but yelling none the less. Both noises stopped in short order and didn't start up again. Someone must have gone in and shut the noisemaker up. He nodded, adding the thumping and yelling to his collection of data and reassessed. It wouldn't make sense for the owner of the house to be thumping and yelling. It was someone who was locked away and wanted out. It had to be Sequil. A good turn of events for him. It meant she was no houseguest, at least not a willing one. If Sequil were locked away and Kenok out of commission, only one person should be remaining. The thought somebody was in the home before the unknown returned with Sequil and Kenok popped into his mind. He dismissed it as unlikely and even if there were an unaccounted-for person in the house, he would have to deal with them once he was inside. He continued his recon in the same foot over foot fashion. It was painfully slow, he realized, but had to be done. There was no more thumping and no more yelling. He wondered what could be going on inside. It was quiet. Too quiet. It didn't seem right. His senses ramped up, searching out anything extraneous they could find.

Growling and snarling.

He spun to his left, drawing the weapon his hand was already holding onto. The three dogs were lying right where he had left them. What's going on? Tyhreb didn't want to move. Not flinch. Not even blink. He felt like he had walked into a trap but the trap hadn't sprung. He stared intently at the dogs. Giving all three of them a flashing glance in a rhythmic pattern, thinking maybe one was still alive but couldn't get up. Nothing. They all lay still as stone statues in a macabre display.

Tyhreb felt strange. Butterflies were forming in his stomach as if he were going in to battle. He knew something had changed but what? He started to walk back toward the dogs, wanting to make sure they were all dead. He stomped toward them, forgetting for the moment the situation he was in. He took four steps and then he felt it. Like a warm breath down his back, he knew somebody was there. He was going to stop but decided they already knew he was there so there was no point and slowed his gait instead. He got a bit lower in his stance as he walked and started shifting his head side to side to give the appearance he was being watchful of the way ahead but really he was attempting to catch sidelong glances behind him to see if he could spot anybody. There was nothing but the feeling was still there. The presence like a monkey clinging to his back. He reached the dogs and gave each one of them a nudge with his foot. Nothing. They were already getting stiff. The presence behind him was so close; it was as if it were looking over his shoulder. In one quick move, he spun around, flashing out with his weapon.

Uldarra knew it was coming. She could sense what the man was going to do at the same time his brain sent the impulses to his limbs. Not much of a warning but it was enough and she had jumped back, out of harm's way. She watched the man walk back toward her dogs and followed. She lost her focus as she stared at their vacant bodies and almost paid for it. Now the fight was on.

Uldarra refocused the energies at her disposal, shrouding herself anew. She wasn't invisible. The energy she pulled around herself blanketed her and made it seem she was a part of the scenery. Like a bump underneath wallpaper. The man was readying another attack. Uldarra moved to her left, again using her ability to sense what he was going to do as he did it.

Tyhreb's second strike was as far wide as the first. He was confused. He knew someone was there but it was like trying to hit air. How were they hiding from him? How did they know where he was going to attack? He staggered around, his head whipping back and forth as he tried to make something, anything come into view and give him a target. He only needed one shot and he would make sure it counted.

Uldarra kept moving on the balls of her feet as if she were a boxer. She knew this man was unlike any other she had challenged. It was only a matter of time before this one pinpointed her location and let her have it and with his strength one blow is all it might take. If he connected cleanly it might be over for her. Another attack was imminent but his intention wasn't clear. Uldarra didn't know where or when he would lash out. She panicked and ducked down, swooping under the man's arms as he lunged with his right hand.

Tyhreb was using every sense he could engage. His sense of smell was better than a normal man's and it smelt a fragrance. It was so subtle it could be a plant he had stepped on but so far it was all he had to work with. He calculated the best area to target and lunged. He missed but felt something brush against him and his leg fired out without hesitation or analysis from his brain, connecting with something solid.

Uldarra wasn't fast enough this time. The man's large boot came up in a flash, mule kicking her and sending her tumbling sideways. She landed face down and spun over onto her back to see what was happening. The man was quick. He was on her in a flash, jumping on her, pinning her down. Uldarra flailed but it was no good. The man outweighed her and out powered her. She tried to summon the energy again but she couldn't focus. Couldn't bring it to bear. The man's hideous face was leering down at her, deciding what to do. Uldarra searched the energies at her disposal, finding only trees and shrubs.

Tyhreb couldn't believe his good fortune. He lay on top of the woman. She wasn't physically commanding but there was something about her. Even though he had her pinned, she wasn't afraid. Wasn't begging for mercy. And how did she do what she did? It felt like rope was entwining his ankles. He looked down at his legs to see tree roots wriggling out of the earth like they were doing some strange dance and wrapping themselves around his thick ankles. Long and sinewy, it was like watching a spindly octopus tie him up. He leaned to one side, slashing at the root on his left leg. He sliced through it but another popped out of the ground and took over. He slashed again and the same thing happened. Tyhreb was starting to panic. The roots were relentless, writhing and winding up his legs as if someone had imbued them with a super growing potion. He forgot about the woman altogether and tried the other leg. On this side the roots were past his knee, snaking their way up his thigh. He slashed at the roots but this time nothing. He couldn't even slice through them. It was as if they had hardened themselves to his attack. A touch on his shoulder and Tyhreb jumped up. The worst thing he could have done. The roots were free now, unencumbered to shoot straight up his legs and around his waist. Vines from the trees were swooping down like snakes, snaring his hands and preventing him from any further attacks, coiling themselves around his thick arms. Tyhreb raged and yelled, wrenching with every ounce of his formidable strength but the bindings didn't break. Didn't bend. In fact, they seemed to grip even harder the more he struggled.

With the man's weight no longer pinning her down, Uldarra rolled over to her hands and knees and stood up, fascinated with the scene. It was like watching a spider wrap up a fly it had caught. Here this large, indomitable man was rendered immobile in seconds. She thanked the trees and roots, sharing her love with them, and stood looking at the man. He was trying like a crazed beast trying to escape but he wasn't going anywhere.

Tyhreb began to curse at the woman. Spitting and frothing at the mouth because it was all he could do. A cold branch wrapped around his thick neck, strangling the last curse he had at the ready and it died before it could even get to his lips. His eyes started to pop, flashing like fireworks as he fought for breath but the darkness came despite his best efforts.

Chapter 37

"Did he believe you, Queen Amhain?"

Queen Amhain was standing in a room along the side of the palace. She often stood here, admiring the scenery and its beauty. Today, it afforded her a great view of Ehcim racing away across the landscape following the same trajectory Clhla Luth had taken. Even from here she could see him urging the horse on with constant whips of his yoke. She felt sorry for the horse. It was one of the fastest they had Ehcim couldn't get back to his master fast enough. She told the steed to expect such treatment but it didn't lessen the feeling. It was happy to be filling a mission at her request. She would retire him when he returned so he could spend his remaining time galloping and prancing in fair fields. "Yes. I think he felt I was being honest with him. Why would he have reason to doubt me?"

Ehcim's form was growing too small to spot anymore and Queen Amhain turned from the window. "And what of you, Meyu Kwi? Did you arrange what I asked?"

"I did your highness. It was frantic going but we should have a man in position to follow him." Meyu Kwi nodded as he spoke, remembering the race he'd run trying to follow the queen's orders. Before she met with Ehcim, she had told Meyu Kwi she was going to let Ehcim go. Meyu Kwi was vehement in his opposition to her idea then and he still couldn't let it lay. "He's going to run right to Clhla Luth you know."

Queen Amhain sighed. She had thought they were over this. "Exactly, Meyu Kwi. It's what I am hoping he does."

"But why? We had him right here, I'm sure we could have found a way to get him to tell us where Clhla Luth is."

"I'm sure we could as well. The magic users could probe his mind. We could torture him. But all those methods take time, Meyu Kwi. Time, we don't have."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you see how well planned Clhla Luth's escape was? And the way he threw Ehcim off to make sure he could fly at speed?"

"Yes."

"He did it for a reason."

"Like what?"

"Clhla Luth is planning something and he needed to make sure he is back to his lair in time and attend to it."

"Time for what?"

"I don't know." Queen Amhain didn't feel the need to explain to Meyu Kwi what she had learned through Lefirte. "Who did you send?"

"Alrei Yqu. He was chomping at the bit to go. I don't think I could have stopped him even if I didn't want him to." Meyu Kwi stood tall, pushing out his chest. "He won't let us down."

Queen Amhain wasn't surprised at his choice. "No. Alrei Yqu won't disappoint. Honestly though, I don't think there is anyone else you would trust to take on such a task."

Meyu Kwi smiled. "No. I probably wouldn't."

"And is everything else prepared?"

"As you requested, Queen Amhain."

"Good. Good. I'm going to return to my quarters and ready myself. I will meet you and others in the stable then."

Weary and exhausted Ehcim climbed the steps to Clhla Luth's lair. His burning legs felt like rubber and his brain was hazy. He was amazed he found the stamina to keep moving forward. He had ridden straight through from Ameuralia. No breaks for him or his horse. True to her word, the horse Queen Amhain had provided for him was fast, getting him here without issue. He stayed true to his word and sent the horse on its way before ascending the steps to Clhla Luth's stronghold. Was he still in time? He looked up to the sky, trying to locate the stars Clhla Luth had been monitoring so closely for his ritual. He wasn't as adept at reading the stars as Clhla Luth but Ehcim was satisfied and continued walking on. He hadn't missed anything but the timing was so close now. Clhla Luth had to be on the platform he had built for the ceremony. From the platform, Clhla Luth watched the stars, noting their paths. Keeping precise records so he would know when to invoke the ceremony he had learned from the Draepkos.

Ehcim found the entrance and completed the hand sequence Clhla Luth had taught him to reveal the door and marched inside. He felt better now. He wasn't sure but he had a vague feeling he was being followed. He didn't spot anybody trailing him. If they did, they were adept at keeping out of sight. If he had been followed, he was safe now. Nobody could get in or out that didn't know how to work the entrance. Ehcim was on autopilot, his legs taking lefts and rights down passages, through corridors and upstairs as he wound through the labyrinthine structure. At the door to the Observatory, he stopped, collecting his thoughts and calming himself. He didn't want to go blustering in and ruin Clhla Luth's spell work. He turned the knob with ginger precision, opening it a crack and peering inside. Clhla Luth was at the far end of the room in the antechamber to the observatory, donning his ceremonial robes.

"Come in, Ehcim. Come in."

Ehcim pushed the door open further, only enough to slip inside and closed it behind him. Ehcim bowed his head. "Master."

"Ehcim. I'm glad you made it back in time." Clhla Luth wasn't surprised to see Ehcim. He had picked up his energy approaching the lair some time ago. He did, however, wonder how Ehcim got away.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner, sir. I had a long ride." Ehcim bowed his head once more in apology.

Clhla Luth laughed remembering how he had pushed Ehcim from the mnaiowk as they escaped. He wasn't about to apologize and glossed over the event. "Not to worry. Not to worry. How did you escape?"

"The Queen let me go. Even gave me a horse for the journey."

"She did." Clhla Luth furrowed his brow. Why would the Queen let Ehcim go? She must know Ehcim was going to return to him. Perhaps she felt Ehcim wasn't of value to him. He wasn't really but now he was here he could use the extra hands. Clhla Luth finished buttoning his robes when he could sense a new energy nearing. It was an energy he was somewhat familiar with but pleasantly surprised. Of all the people Queen Amhain could have chosen to track him down, he could think of no one else he would rather have it be. "I see you have friend, Ehcim."

Ehcim looked around but realized what Clhla Luth was talking about and gulped. He had been followed.

Clhla Luth could sense Ehcim's apprehension. "Why don't you go and greet our guest. Bring him up here so he can witness the ceremony."

"Yes sir." Ehcim turned to leave.

"I'll be on the observatory when you return."

A hard shove from Ehcim and Alrei Yqu lurched onto the platform. He stopped himself and brandished his weapon out in front of him. Ehcim came behind him, shutting the door. Clhla Luth had his back them, busy at a tall dais. "You don't need to defend yourself here, Alrei Yqu."

Alrei Yqu looked around, shifting on his feet, but didn't lower his weapon.

Clhla Luth turned to them. "If we wanted to do you harm, we would have by now. Please, be at ease."

Alrei Yqu sheathed his weapon but didn't take his hand from it or change his stance. He was ready for anything.

"That's better. Now, have you come all this way yourself, Alrei Yqu?"

"I did. I was bidden to find your stronghold." Alrei Yqu felt it was safe to say as much.

"Well, you have found it. Now what?"

Alrei Yqu didn't have an answer. Meyu Kwi had bidden him to find the stronghold but not to confront. He hadn't expected to be confronted by Ehcim and taken to face Clhla Luth.

"No answer? Well, you should be glad to have joined us, Alrei Yqu. You are about to witness history. Or should I say, the beginning of Clhla Luth's reign over Quanna Eresse."

Alrei Yqu snorted in disbelief at Clhla Luth. It was tall talk, even for someone as powerful as Clhla Luth. "How are you, one man, going to rule over the whole of Quanna Eresse?"

"Your right. I am only one man." Clhla Luth approached Alrei Yqu stopping when they were nose to nose. "Tell me, Alrei Yqu. Haven't you felt there was something more to this world? You have access to the energy. Would you agree we aren't tapping into its full power?"

Alrei Yqu knew exactly what Clhla Luth meant. As Ameuralian's, they all had access to the same source of power. It was what they used to work with the elements. Earth, wind, fire, water. They were all easily controlled with the kind of magic they practiced but he always felt there was more. As if there was another side to the power they were kept ignorant of, like they weren't trusted in its use.

Clhla Luth nodded and smiled. "I see in your eyes; you know of what I speak. The magic we are used to is light and love but there is a duality to everything. Our magic is no exception. What if I told you, I have found a way to access the other side of our magic?"

"You mean the dark." Alrei Yqu couldn't hide the fact he was intrigued. Having access to dark magic had long tickled his fancy.

"Yes. It's there, Alrei Yqu. I have found it. Worked with it to make me powerful. In a moment, I am going to open a portal to the world it comes from and then they will come." Clhla Luth turned to walk away and noticed a bag over Ehcim's shoulder. "What is that, Ehcim?"

Ehcim started at being addressed. He had forgotten about the bag and the box the queen had given him. He removed the bag from his shoulder and pulled out the box from within. "Queen Amhain bid me to give this to you."

Clhla Luth eyed the box suspiciously. He reached out to take it but pulled his hand back as if he were afraid of what was in it. "You open it."

Ehcim dropped the bag to the floor reached over and opened the box. He gazed at the stone again before turning it toward Clhla Luth for him to see.

Clhla Luth was aghast. Horrified. He took a step back before slapping the box out of Ehcim's hands. "You fool."

The box flipped out of Ehcim's hands and a magnificent gem fell out of it, snapping into two as it hit the ground. "Get those out of here."

Ehcim dropped to the floor and picked up one piece, putting it back into the box. He was reaching for the other when Clhla Luth screamed in rage, kicking it out of Ehcim's grasp. It flew over the edge of the observatory disappearing from view. He grabbed Ehcim, pulling him to his feet and forced him back, opening the door to the observatory and shoving Ehcim out. Clhla Luth shut and locked the door behind.

Ehcim was stunned. Shocked. He went to pound on the door but knew it would be futile. A part of him was rising up. A long suppressed part of him which Clhla Luth had held in abeyance. It was climbing up through the layers of suppression. Ehcim snapped the box shut and turned away from the door.

Queen Amhain stopped her horse up short. Holding up a hand calling the rest of the vanguard to a halt, she had felt a ping of energy; Ehcim must have opened the box. The part of her world reaching out to her in the energy field like a homing beacon. They had been following the tracks left by Ehcim's horse. Before giving it to him they reshod the horse, giving it much more distinctive shoes. The marks it left were easily found but it had been hard going none the less. The terrain took them through creeks and streams. Through muddy bogs and barren, hard ground. But now she knew exactly where to go and signalled to the vanguard to double time it, her own horse taking off without a word from her.

They advanced on the odd shaped hill, dismounting at what looked like its base. The rest of her group rode up and joined her, looking at the strange structure. It looked man made but not by any men she knew of. They regarded it with a cautious eye but knew they had to go inside and began scaling its heights. Queen Amhain could feel Ehcim's shadow from when he passed this way and followed the path right to a door. As they stood, observing the door, it opened.

Until he saw the queen standing there, Ehcim had no clear idea what he was going to do. He had revenge on his mind and it took a heartbeat for him to decide. He stepped aside and let the queen and her group in.

"Where is Clhla Luth, Ehcim?" Queen Amhain had no time for games. She could sense energy building up. Negative energy, coiling like a snake waiting to strike.

"Follow me." Ehcim turned, remembering another way to get to the observatory. It was the only way at first, until Clhla Luth built the main entrance connecting it to the rest of the structure.

With no one else to trust they followed. Meyu Kwi behind Ehcim, followed by the queen and many body guards. Ehcim took them ever deeper, turning this way and that before coming to a small door. Opening it revealed rickety stairs along the outside of the structure. He stood back and pointed. "He's at the top of the stairs." Ehcim felt a small pang of guilt but remembering the cruel treatment he had suffered at Clhla Luth's hands steeled his resolve.

One by one Meyu Kwi, Queen Amhain and her guards climbed out the small door, bounding up the stairs as fast they would allow, spilling out onto the observatory platform. Clhla Luth was standing aside the Dais, the branch of Lefirte lying atop it. His hands were raised to the sky, speaking words in a strange tongue. The clouds roiled in response like a dark ocean churning at the whim of unseen gale force winds. A spike of cloud reached down, surrounding Clhla Luth and the branch. The branch vibrated like it had been struck, drawing the darkness in as if it were inhaling it. For a moment, nothing happened. The branch lay there, quivering, all eyes upon it. Clhla Luth was disappointed his evil smile drooping to confused frown. He had done everything as asked. The timing was right. Everything had gone perfectly. Even the queen's intrusion had been too late. He reached out to the branch. As he touched it the full brunt of darkness erupted out of it, into his hand and up his arm. It shot through his body like a wave of fire. He screamed in agony, the pain all encompassing. He turned to Alrei Yqu and the darkness surged out of him, forming a dark aura around him, encompassing Alrei Yqu. Alrei Yqu screamed and dove back, rolling out of the sphere but a residue clung to him like morning fog.

As suddenly as someone turning a switch, the darkness pulled back into Clhla Luth. He staggered away from the Dais, falling to his knees and then all the way to the floor. An invisible wave followed, issuing in all directions, stunning them all. The lair began to shake and rumble as if it was on a plate and someone was shaking it.

Meyu Kwi ran out and grabbed Alrei Yqu, dragging him back toward the rickety stairs.

"No, this way." Alrei Yqu pulled away from Meyu Kwi and ran to the door Clhla Luth had bolted earlier and flung it open.

Meyu Kwi returned to the queen, dragging her with him. He had to drag her; she was standing still like a statue, her face draining of color. He ordered two men to grab Clhla Luth and bolted through the open door. Alrei Yqu was waiting for them and when the men came, dragging Clhla Luth with them, turned and led them all out the main entrance. They were bouncing off corridor walls as they went. Parts collapsing in behind them. Beside them. They dodged the ones in front of them and made out the main entrance, racing down the steps to the bottom. They ran as far as they could away from the destruction. The ground was undulating underneath their feet and one by one they all tumbled. Meyu Kwi looked back and Clhla Luth's lair split apart, collapsing inward like it was trying to swallow itself before exploding outward, launching rock as far they could see.

Meyu Kwi looked outside. Dark cloud was rolling in, condensing right over the lair. Whatever was happening, it was imminent.

There was nothing to see here. And they left. Knowing the world had changed and they had better get ready for it.

They interred Clhla Luth's body in the nearest of the odd mounds surrounding his now destroyed stronghold, placing every protection they could on it. Queen Amhain herself placed the branch of Lefirte on the wall of the tomb. "You are Clhla Luth no more. You are exiled from Quanna Eresse. Forever more you will live in your dark world, ruling over the wretched for eternity. You will be forever known as Shadowkeeper."

Chapter 38

Bush and trees droned by. A never-ending blur of green and brown, like they were stuck on some horrible merry-go-round. To Tagan it seemed there would be no end to it and all he could do was hold on. Every time he thought they had outrun their Dwenar Gliv pursuers, they hadn't. They would stop to get their bearings and though quiet at first, sounds of pursuit would clamour up. Sometimes it was right behind them. Other times it was coming at them from the rear left or right as though their followers were bad marksmen and couldn't find the herd they were trying to corral. Tagan was so sore he swore when this was all over he would never ride another horse ever again but for now it was his only means of staying alive. He shifted in his saddle and found a comfortable way to sit, easing some of his discomfort. He started to relive the moment he and Rean Le had shared under the tree. How easily she had helped him find his way to Quanna Eresse. Quanna Eresse. How beautiful it was. He didn't realize how much he had missed it. He had been so caught up in everything else he hadn't even given Quanna Eresse much thought. He pictured himself there again and could feel himself relax. His aches and pains slid away. Even with his eyes open, he could see Quanna Eresse overlapping where he was like two different frames of the same scene but he was back at the same area he had been with Rean Le. He was galloping toward Quanna Eresse but there was the other trail. The dark trail. No matter how hard he tried to focus on Quanna Eresse, the dark path drew his attention as if it were calling his name. He let his attention turn to it, thinking if he were to address the dark path, he would gain control over it and he could let it go. Everything went dark around him as if he had slipped into night. Tagan's eyes were still open and looking around he could see his companions with him bouncing along in their saddles. Quanna Eresse was still there but shrouded in dark as if he were looking at it through a black sheet. Rean Le was out in front leading their zigzag escape. As the darkness fell he could see her look around but she didn't stop.

Tagan felt a strange sensation coming from his saddle and looked down. It was an ordinary looking saddle. Looking up he could see what looked like forms moving around in the darkness like black ghosts. They would get close to them but not close enough to touch them. It was like they were spectators watching the chase. Even though it was dark, the path felt right to Tagan, like he was meant to be here. He couldn't think of why. It was the polar opposite of Quanna Eresse but it held promise for him. Answers, maybe. He didn't know.

His horse changed gears and slowed down almost from a full gallop to a walk in only a few feet and the dark path disappeared. Quanna Eresse was gone as well. The whole lot. He looked around trying to figure out what was going on. He hadn't heard Rean Le call for a stop.

"What was that?" Stonjsin's skin was still tingling with fear. It felt like hundreds of bugs were using him for a highway. It came on when they had plunged into the darkness.

"I don't know but I'm still shaking." Crenoah was relieved. He thought he was the only one who had experienced the darkness and was going crazy in some way.

Rean Le charged toward Tagan, still atop her horse, pulling alongside him. "What was that Tagan? Did you do that?"

Tagan looked to all of them in turn. He didn't understand their fear. He had felt so welcomed by the darkness. "I don't know. I mean, I was thinking about Quanna Eresse and the trail we saw there." He had lowered his voice feeling somewhat embarrassed talking about it.

"Tagan, did you draw that darkness down on us?" Stonjsin was amazed Tagan could do such a thing. He had listened to Tagan's and Braulor's tale of how he could see into another world but hadn't put a lot of thought into how and what it might feel like. Another part of him was irate. He had never been so scared.

"Why did you do it Tagan?" Rean Le hadn't been scared. Not like the other two. She could see the beings but knew they were safe. But she was surprised. If he could do that with the dark, could he do the same thing with Quanna Eresse? Make it real here and now for all of them? Many thoughts were pouring into her mind. Most were of how they could use this to their advantage but there were some selfish reasons as well. She longed to see her people.

"I didn't do it on purpose. I was thinking of Quanna Eresse but the dark path kept drawing my attention and I focussed on it and that's what happened." Tagan was starting to feel like he was being admonished. As if he had done something reprehensible.

"Could you do it again?" Rean Le was hopeful. Hopeful of many uses for Tagan's magic but right now she was hoping they could use it to get away.

Tagan didn't know what to say. He hadn't planned to do it in the first place. "I think I could. I'm not sure."

Rean Le regarded Tagan for a moment, her eyes narrowed, lips pursed. "Ok. Try not to do that again unless I ask you too. Can you do that for me, Tagan?"

Tagan nodded.

Rean Le smiled brightly at Tagan before turning to Crenoah and Stonjsin. "I think we've managed to give our pursuers the slip for the moment. Maybe Tagan's trick confused them as well. We need to get back to my camp. It's not far from here and we can hold up there for a night, maybe two, while we plan our next move."

Stonjsin and Crenoah both nodded their agreement. Anything that would get them off these horses sounded like a blessing to them.

Tagan nodded, even though Rean Le couldn't see him do it. He had to fight to contain his smile as happiness surged through his veins. Rean Le was coming with them.

The way to Rean Le's camp wasn't as straightforward as they had all hoped. They turned off the main trail and into the bush. There didn't seem to be trail of any type as far as Tagan could tell. It was if Rean Le had chosen some random spot and was going by her sense of direction to get back to her place. The bushes attacked their legs, clawing at their clothes. Tagan could feel brambles and prickles grabbing at him and scratching him as he rode through. A small souvenir for his effort. The trees were not to be outdone. Their branches scrabbling at them, threatening to brush them right off their horses' backs. Other branches took great delight in springing back into place from the person ahead, hoping to knock riders clean out of their saddles like some game of golf. Tagan took more than one branch clean across the face and could feel raw scratches on his cheeks. But Rean Le had been honest about the distance. They didn't have to ride for long to get to her camp.

Without a word, Rean Le came to a stop. Tagan pulled his horse alongside hers and followed her gaze out to large tract of cleared land. It was level and clear of debris. Tagan could see it followed the same concept as Quanna Eresse, using the land and what was available on it to provide shelter. It was an oasis in the midst of the forest. He could see no trails leading directly to it and he assumed the way they had arrived was the like approaching from any other direction. "That's your camp?"

"Yes, it is." Rean Le was searching her camp for any signs of disturbance. She did ȃevery time she returned. Even though it was difficult to access she liked to be certain and she would probe the energies around her camp for signs of change. She was having trouble focussing though. Her recent encounters with Quanna Eresse had her mind churning and she couldn't get her thoughts to quiet down.

Tagan looked back to Crenoah and Stonjsin and shrugged. They each returned a shrug but remained quiet.

Rean Le couldn't shake her emotions but felt it was safe to go to her camp. She urged her horse forward and gestured to the others to follow. At the edge of her camp she dismounted and walked her horse a little farther in before pulling the reins over the horse's head, letting them dangle.

Tagan, Stonjsin and Crenoah did the same, practically jumping out of their saddles. They stayed with their horses however, while Rean Le went about the camp, checking on various things. She called them over to a table in the middle of the clearing. They gladly pulled out chairs while she passed around mugs of water from a nearby barrel. Everybody remained quiet for a time as they collected their thoughts, washing the dust out of their mouths with water.

"We should be safe here tonight but I don't think we should stay more than one night."

"I agree. These men chasing us don't seem to have any quit in them." Crenoah was happy to have a place to rest but felt he couldn't rest being in a strange land. He longed for home and wondered how the clan was making out.

Rean Le nodded. "We shouldn't have a fire then; it will be too easy to...." Her voice trailed off.

Tagan had heard it as well. The crack of a branch. It should be a normal sound in the woods but it made his skin dance with goose bumps. Crenoah and Stonjsin stiffened in their seats. It was like they were in a vacuum. They were holding their breath, looking at one another, waiting to see if another noise was going to follow.

The branch snapping put Rean Le into warrior mode and all her faculties returned. In a second she realized they weren't alone. She could feel a singular energy close by. She nodded to the others, her ominous silence speaking the words she didn't dare utter. Their eyes widened as understanding sank in. She reached under the table, her hand finding a dagger concealed there for just such an emergency. She moved the dagger to in front of her chest, holding it by the blade and stood up. She made like she was going to the wooden hut and in one motion turned, her hand whipping out and firing the dagger. A strangled scream rent the quiet before stopping abruptly. She turned to the men at the table. "Get the horses."

Tagan, Crenoah and Stonjsin jumped out of their chairs, knocking glasses down in the process and sprinted to the horses. Rean Le turned the other way and darted into the cabin.

The woods erupted with noise, chaos coming from all directions. They were surrounded.

Tagan grabbed the reins to Rean Le's horse and flipped them over its head. It could sense danger and was nervous, waiting, like a nocked arrow it wanted to fly. He grabbed the reins to his horse, looping them back into place and springing into the saddle. He looked behind and could see men, forging through the trees like ghosts, flashing in and out sight.

Stonjsin and Crenoah had their horses and the two extras at the ready. "Where is she?" Stonjsin was frantic. He could see no way out. Rean Le's camp was at the top of mountain and men were coming at them from all directions.

"Rean Le." Tagan screamed. He shared Stonjsin's sentiment. He didn't know how they were going to get out of here either but they needed to get moving. Needed to put some distance between themselves and the Dwenar Gliv guards. Tagan put his heels into his horse's sides and it sprang forward and he directed it to the last place he had seen Rean Le.

Rean Le emerged from her tent, the small bag she had gone to retrieve clenched in her hands. She looked around at the chaos. Tagan was riding toward her, Stonjsin and Crenoah close behind. An arrow whizzed by her head and she ducked. She ran to her horse and sprang into the saddle as if she had defied gravity and grasped the reins. Without saying another word, she took the lead. There was one direction these men wouldn't dare ascend. They raced through the woods having to keep control of their horses who wanted to run full tilt. A few men jumped out of the woods aside them trying to take swipes at them but they were shoved aside by the sheer force of the horses' passage or a stiff boot to the face from the horses' rider.

They reached the top of a cliff and Rean Le's horse wanted to stop. The cliff was sheer and almost straight down. There was no choice. Either they risk the cliff or die at the hands of Dwenar Gliv. The rest had joined her at the cliff, their eyes wide with fear. She looked to each of them and they nodded. They had to go. Rean Le kicked her horse forward. With tremulous steps, it stepped forward, rearing way back trying to fight the angle. Rean Le could barely hold on. In only a couple of feet the horse couldn't fight any more and gave in, standing straight up. A few more feet and it was out of control.

Tagan was behind Rean Le watching as her horse took off; its legs moving so fast trying to keep up, it looked like someone speeded up time. His horse did the same thing but he overtook Rean Le, her scared face a blur in his periphery as his horse sped ahead as if it was some kind of thrill seeker. Tagan had to do something. He focussed as hard as he could on controlling his fear. He reached deep inside, trying to tame the horror he was feeling and a strange calm washed over him. Had he come to terms with dying? He couldn't explain it but he felt at peace, like they were going to be OK. The dark path opened in front of him once again and he knew he had to take it. He fixated on it and the cliff face they were on disappeared underneath their feet, replaced with the seeping darkness pervading the trail. Quanna Eresse was nowhere to be seen but Tagan didn't care. The ground levelled out under their feet and the horses didn't slow down, taking the opportunity to fly at full speed. He looked back and everybody was with him. Rean Le was stone faced and solemn, but had her head up and eyes open. Stonjsin and Crenoah were ducked low, hugging their horse's necks tightly, eyes squeezed shut trusting to wherever they were going.

Tagan didn't know. He only knew they were safe. For the moment.

Chapter 39

"What is this place?" Braulor looked out onto a large circular area. Slightly sunken from end to middle and ringed with circles all the way to the middle. It looked like they were caused by water. In the exact center, it was dark and mysterious as if there were no center. Like the structure was built over nothingness and if you fell through the middle you disappeared forever. It was the only change in scenery he had seen since he arrived in Tâ Oandimn.

"It's called Kasadu." Draax was whispering into Braulor's ear as if they were spies under deep cover and was trying to evade listening devices. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

"What's it for?"

"It's where he brings new arrivals."

By 'he' Braulor knew Draax meant the same being he had contended with earlier. "New arrivals?"

"Yes. When people come here their first stop is with the Shadowkeeper, where they are interrogated and punished. The master punishes them. Or he does. After they have had their way with them, they bring them here for the others."

"Other's?"

"Yes. Others. Look, there must be a new arrival. See how they are starting to line up on the edges. They are waiting."

Braulor swung his head around the entire rim and could see masses of dark pooling. They were drifting toward Kasadu in droves from the myriad of trails terminating at its edge. "Why do they attack new people?"

"When people are fresh here, they bring remnants of the outside world with them. Bits of energy that can be stripped from them."

"What do they do with them?"

"Many take them to wherever they call home and savour them as a way to connect to a world they will never see again. Other's hoard them, using them to barter and trade for services or protection."

"Did you go through this?"

"I did. He brought me here and left but for some reason, I wasn't attacked. They started to swarm me but then left me alone. I climbed out of here and have been wandering ever since."

Braulor found it odd Draax wouldn't be subjected to the same treatment as the rest that came here but he remembered the reaction when the being attacked him trying to get the staff. When Draax came back for him and touched the staff the being recoiled in horror as if Draax were some kind of repellant.

"Look. Someone is about to arrive." Draax had seen this before and didn't like it. He wanted to leave but couldn't.

Braulor looked again to the middle of Kasadu. It had changed. It's depthless, black center was issuing a dark mist that swirled and hovered like some cloud of hate. The souls gathered on the rim of Kasadu came to life, flitting about excitedly, slamming into one another. Fights were breaking out, clumps and factions swirling into clouds, jockeying for the best position. The mist in the center of Kasadu drew back into itself, solidifying into what looked like a doorway. The fighting at the edges stopped. The tension was palpable, holding back like some beast wanting to strike. The rings of Kasadu came to life, dark energy rippling around from the center outward, like someone had thrown a rock into a pond. Pulsing faster and faster the waves of energy came at them. Braulor had to get to one knee they were so forceful. And then everything stopped. The rings fell silent. The doorway turned to mist again and like a magician pulling back the curtain, disappeared altogether. In the center was a solitary person. Dropped there like garbage. He writhed on the ground as if he were suffering the pain of being born. Those gathered on the edged, drifted closer. Closer. And closer still. It was like some game of chicken, each of them waiting for someone else to make the first move.

No one had attacked yet. They were still holding themselves at bay as if someone were commanding them to wait. Braulor had stood again, trying to get a better look at the person in the middle. He looked at Draax, who had his eyes squinted shut but was taking short peeks like he was watching the apogee of a horror movie. Braulor stepped to the side of Kasadu, standing on his tiptoes. The person had gotten to his hands and knees and looked up. He sat back on his knees, his face filled with fear and horror. With the realization, he had come to the end. From his sitting position the man swept the panorama of Kasadu, his eyes filled with despair. The man's eyes fell on Braulor and an inquisitive look dawned. In the midst of the horror he found a piece of good. Braulor locked eyes with the man and was dumbfounded. It was as if he were looking into a mirror. In a flash the realization hit him. With the force of a heavyweight's punch, it slammed into his brain. The man was his dad. Braulor didn't know how he knew, he just did. Without thinking he screamed and plunged headlong into the throng of beings circling the man. He waded into them, wielding the staff as a weapon. They fell before him; fleeing at the wrath he was waging as Braulor sliced his way through them and ran to the man. Draax was right behind; not knowing what else to do he had followed Braulor.

Grawton watched with anticipatory excitement. He had provided a few extra theatrics to the scene at Kasadu and slipped into the groups along the side, silently bidding them to approach but not attack. It was hard for them but they knew the consequences of disobedience. Braulor was running to his father. When he got there, Grawton would let the others attack and unleash the fury that was building up like tectonic plates mashing together. The resulting earthquake would give him the cover he needed to get Braulor and the staff away from Kasadu and back to where he could have his way with them. Get the staff and rule over Tâ Oandimn. It would be the beginning of his terrible rein.

Braulor burst through the beings. The way to his father was clear. His heart was pounding. He got to his father and fell to his knees, and stared into his face, taking in every detail. His father smiled, reaching out to touch him. Draax was behind them, watching the scene unfold. And like a cork coming out of a bottle, the energy was released. The clots of beings descended toward them like a mudslide, pouring down a mountain. Braulor stood. Kenok stood beside him, proud and defiant. Draax was whimpering, crying to himself but didn't seem scared. The beings poured onto them, swiping with unseen appendages. Biting, gnashing, trying to get a piece of them but they were wary still. Draax had placed his arms around Kenok and Braulor as if he were giving them a hug. A dire presence drifted through the maelstrom. Like a shark drifting through a pool of blood, he was searching for the bodies in the middle on which he wanted to feast. This spurred the beings on. They were overcoming their apprehension, their collective evil intent pushing through the boundary of protection Draax provided. Braulor held the staff out in front of him, taking Draax's hand, remembering the potency of the last time he did so. It worked for a moment but there was too much evil energy about. Grawton was drawing it into himself in long drags, like smoker with his first cigarette of the day. He was forcing his way through the melee, nearing his prize.

The sound of hoofs pounded above the vibrating energy. Like a speeding drum roll, they thundered out of the same trail Braulor had been on. Not stopping, not heeding. Braulor looked to this new source of noise. Tagan was leading the way, his face fierce with determination. Rean Le was next followed by Stonjsin and Crenoah. Braulor had never been so happy to see anyone before in his life and his heart swelled. Love poured from his heart like a volcano, exploding out from him, forcing the crowd back.

Tagan spotted Braulor and Kenok and his own feelings swelled, forming a bridge to them. The horses flew into the crowd without pause, blowing them back like dynamite had been set off in their midst.

Grawton saw them coming and held his ground. He was so close to his prize now, he had to fight for it if he really wanted it.

Tagan could only see his brother and father and urged his horse forward. He sensed the evil around them and knew they couldn't stop now or they would be overwhelmed.

Braulor could see they had extra horses with them and readied himself, drawing Draax and Kenok closer too. They had one clear chance to get on them or none of them might get out here. He started to run, trying to match the speed of the horses. Tagan sped by. Rean Le sped by. Stonjsin and Crenoah whipped by, eyes slammed shut. The first rider less horse was there and Braulor caught onto his reins and heaved himself up, flipping his leg over the saddle. He grabbed Kenok's outreached hand and pulled him aboard behind him. Draax caught onto the last horse, launching himself over the saddle and hanging on.

Grawton lurched forward from the mob of darkness, grabbing out for the staff. With Draax and Braulor separated, their combined protection was no more and he latched onto the staff. Braulor felt the staff wrench in hand and gripped it tighter than ever before. Grawton pulled as well, calling his minions to him to combine their strength. Braulor roared trying to hold on to it but the staff slipped out of his hands, burning as it went, searing a scar into his palm and fingers. Braulor's heart skipped a beat and then almost stopped as the realization hit him. The staff was gone.

