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-------------------------------------------- 
Book Information: 
Genre: Epic Fantasy 
Author: Michael A. Stackpole 
Name: The Dark Glory War 
Series: DragonCrown Saga 1 (Prelude) 
====================== 
CHAPTER 
The day they gave me my mask was the first day I felt truly alive. Though I received my 
mask over two decades ago, I remember the events surrounding it clearly. The tinge of 
winter 
had not quite left the air that year, so even as we were coming to Mid-Summers 
Eve the days were cooler than normal. 
Many people were happy with the weather, since 
the previous year had been a scorcher, and some went so far as to suggest that the mild 
weather might have betokened the death of Chytrine, the scourge of the Northlands. I 
didnt care about the weather or the tyrant of Aurolan because this was my eighteenth 
summer, which made it special and me anxious. 
The mask I got was, not, of course, the first mask I had ever worn, nor would it be 
the last. It was a simple moonmask, as white as the orb for which it was named. If the 
gods smiled and I proved worthy, as the moon again became full I would be awarded 
my first life mask, and this moonmask would be a memento of my transition from 
childhood frivolity to adult responsibility. 
It had been my intention, that morning, to wake early and dress myself, as befit my 
new station in life. I wanted to be able to greet my father as an adult in all but the mask 
he would bring. Unfortunately I awoke much too early, spent time in my bed wondering 
if I should get up or go to sleep again, then fell asleep and remained so rather solidly 
until, dimly, I heard my fathers heavy tread on the stairs. Before I could rub sleep-sand 
from my eyes, the door opened and he entered my room. 
My memory of his coming to me that mid-summer morning, 
bearing the mask, still 
endures and is one of my most favorite of him. All over Oriosa other children in their 
eighteenth 
summer were also receiving their masks. For many of them the presentation 
would be a family affair, but among the Hawkinses, fathers presented masks to sons, 
mothers to daughters, making it a more intimate and solemn occasion. I welcomed this 
moment of serenity before what I guessed would be a month of controlled insanity. 
My father stood there, at the foot of my bed, looking down at me. His life mask, 
which he seldom wore in our house, had a fearsome visage. White temeryx feathers, 
with their shifting rainbow highlights, splayed out and back at the masks temples. 
The 
cut of the masks lower edge had been sharpened into a hawks beak over his nose. This

had been done both as a play on our name and the fact that Lord Norrington and his 
father before him had often used my father to hunt enemies the way another might 
loose a hawk on a varmint. Orphan notches had been cut by each eye and the brown 
leather had two green ribbons stitched into the portion covering his forehead. 
Those 
marked awards for bravery, one from Lord Norrington 
and the other from the hand of 
the Oriosan queen. 
A hank of blond and silver hair hung down over the masks forehead and bisected the 
ribbons. My father refused to wear a cowl, though entitled to do so, preferring to let 
others see his full head of hair. Through the masks narrowed eyeslits I could see his 
brown eyes, perhaps the hint of a tear glistening in an orphan notch. He never cried 
from pain, my father, physical pain, anyway. But other hurts, or lifes joys, could tickle a 
tear from his eyes. 
Though he did not stand as tall as I, he was still a big man and broader through the 
chest and shoulders than I was. Growing up, hed seemed bigger, and yet even as I grew 
into my adult size, I always thought of him as bigger than me. Though he was entering 
the twilight of his life, my father still possessed the strength of his youth and served as 
Lord Nor-ringtons Peaceward in Valsina. 
He raised his hands slowly, bearing between them the simple 
strip of white leather I 
would wear for the next month. Arise, Tarrant Hawkins. At an end are the carefree days 
of your youth. Upon this mask, and many like it, will be written the story of your life as a 
man. 
I threw back my blanket, and with only the crackle of the straw mattress and the 
groan of old floorboards to break the silence, I stood before my father. I plucked a piece 
of straw from the sleeve of my nightshirt, then ran fingers back through my black hair 
and snagged another piece. They fell to the floor as my hands returned to my sides. 
Id waited for this day forever, it seemed. The full moon closest to mid-summer 
marked the day wed get our moon-masks. Everyone my age knew the full moon would 
fall exactly on mid-summer, which meant we would be blessed and special. 
Great things 
would be expected from us, and I hoped I would prove worthy of such an auspicious 
omen. Ever since Id learned that the full moon would fall on mid-summer in my year, I 
had worked to prepare for this day and the rest of my life beyond it. 
The problem was, however, that preparing for the unknown 
was not a simple task. I 
knew, in general, what would happen during my Moon Month. While Id been barred 
from the festivities surrounding similar awards to my brothers and sisters, the results of 
their Moon Months were not hard to see. Noni, my eldest sister, had emerged betrothed 
from her month, while my older brothers had won positions in the Frontier Lancers and 
the Oriosan Scouts respectively. It seemed to me to be pretty clear that during their 
month they had been the subjects of negotiations or recruitment that set them on a path 
for the rest of their lives. 
Reaching up, my father pressed the leather mask against my face, then raised my left 
hand to hold it in place. I turned in compliance with his pressure on my shoulder and felt 
him tighten the mask in place. A bit of my hair caught in the knot 
and pulled, but I knew that had not been an accident. The hair and the mask are 
equally now part of me. I am the mask and it is me. 
Turn around, boy. Let me look at you. I turned back to face him and saw a proud 
smile broaden the lower half of his face. You already wear the mask well, Tarrant. 
Thank you, Father. 
He waved me back toward my bed. Sit for a moment, Ive got something to tell you. 
He lowered his voice and glanced back at the door, then crouched at my knees. Youre 
my last child to get a mask, but none have been so ready for it. In your training youve 
worked hard. You still make mistakes, youve still things to learn, but you dont quit, and

your loyalty to friends, especially the Norringtons, well, that fires my heart, it does. 
Now your mother, she is fair to bursting with pride in you, but shes also fit to weep 
at losing you. Youll be remembering 
that, Tarrant, and youll put up with her fussing 
about. When youre finally a man, shell learn to retreat a bitand likely youll have an 
appreciation of her that youve not had before. For now, though, know your growing up 
is as difficult on her as it will be on you. 
I nodded solemnly and felt the masks tails gently slapping my neck. Id not do 
anything to hurt her or you. 
I know, youre a good lad. He patted my knee with a calloused hand. Liverspots and 
scars were woven together in his flesh. Youre also going to have to remember that you 
wear the mask everywhere, at all times, save here in your home, with your family. Yes, I 
know there are those who think shedding the mask amid friends is acceptable, but were 
an old family. Weve taken the mask since the days when one had to, and were not 
surrendering a tradition for which our ancestors shed blood. Promise me, boy, that youll 
always wear your mask. 
I laid my hand on top of his. You have my promise. 
Good. He glanced down at the floor for a moment, then nodded. Your brothers, 
theyre good men, but not quite as bright as you. When I gave them their masks, I gave 
them some advice about what will be going on in the next month. For you Ive not got 
anything to say that you dont already know. For some people the Moon Month is a 
chance to start over. For others its a chance to start. For you, though, it is a chance to 
continue learning and growing into the man you want to be. 
He straightened, then looked down at me. You know, Tarrant, Ive no favorites 
among my children. I love you all, but I will say this: if I were out in the forests and lost, 
with frostclaws coursing me, theres one of you I know would find me and help me. 
Thats you, lad. The others would try, dont get me wrong, but youd manage it. By luck 
or pluck, youd do it. For that reason among many I am very proud of you. 
The pride welling up in my chest robbed me of words. I smiled at my father and he 
nodded in return. 
Come on, lad, Ill be introducing you to your family now. He opened the door to my 
room, then ushered me onto the walkway that provided access to the houses upper 
rooms. My mother and my two brothers had gathered in the entry-way, at the base of 
the stairsjust this side of the entryways mask-curtainbut I did nothing more than 
glance at them. In keeping with custom, they did not even acknowledge my existence. 
I preceded my father down the stairs, then let him pass me. He cleared his throat and 
my unmasked kin smiled at him. This being the fifteenth day of the month of Gold, I 
would like to present to you a new Hawkins. He is Tarrant. 
I bowed my head to them. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. 
My oldest brother, Doke, wearing a semiserious expression on his face, offered me his 
hand. Captain Doke Hawkins of the Frontier Lancers, at your service. 
And I am Sallitt Hawkins, Lieutenant in the Oriosan Scouts. Sallitt swept a hank of 
red hair out of his eyes and shook my hand. Tarrant, you say? I once knew a Tarrant 
Hawkins. Bit of a bother. 
My mother hissed at him. Hush now, Sal. Pleased to be meeting you, Tarrant. 
The pleasure is all mine. I took my mothers heart hand in mine and kissed it gently. 
She turned away quickly so I couldnt see her face. Dawn light pouring in through the 
front windows caught the long veins of grey running through her brown hair. Id noticed 
them before and had even kidded her about them. But now, seeing them through the 
slits in a moonmask, I felt the first cold jolt of mortality. My mother and father had been 
part of my life foreveror, rather, until this day I had been part of their lives. Now I had 
my own life to live, one that would take me away from them. I was a seed fallen away

from the tree, to sprout and thrive on my own, or to fail to do so on the same terms. 
As if my mother could read my thoughts and wanted to counter them, she pointed to 
the rough-hewn table over by the kitchen hearth. We would welcome you into our 
home, Tarrant. Please, join us. 
I crossed the open room and sat at the guest end of the table. Placed there was a loaf 
of bread, a green apple, a tiny bowl of salt, a small wheel of cheese, and a pitcher of ale. 
Cups and plates had been set at four more places, but no food had been laid out at 
them. I sat, then the others, each watching me with a mixture of amusement and pride 
shining in their eyes. 
First I took up the apple and carved a small wedge from it. It being a little early in the 
season for apples, the fruit tasted quite tart, but it had been the first solid food I had 
eaten after birth, so here I consumed it first after my rebirth. I chewed and swallowed, 
then quartered the remaining apple and passed it out among my kin. 
Likewise I took the first piece of bread and cheese, then divided the remainder. I also 
poured the ale into each cup and added a dash of salt to each. I raised the cup of ale and 
offered the traditional moonmask toast. To the nest become a stronghold, and the 
blood ties that bind this family together. 
We all drank and solemnly set our cups down. The crackling 
of the kitchen fire filled 
the silence for a second, then my brothers chuckled and Doke reached for the ale pitcher. 
Are you prepared for your Moon Month, little brother? Fretting the adventures youll 
have? 
Fretting? No. I smiled and could feel the flesh of my cheeks press against the mask. 
What do I have to be afraid of? 
My brothers laughed again, and even my father joined in. My mother gave him a stern 
glance and laid a hand on his arm, then nodded toward my brothers. My fathers 
laughter tumbled into a rumble, then died in a cough. He advanced his cup toward 
Sallitt. 
Youll be wanting to tease Tarrant, but youre old enough to know better, the both of 
you. You could have him thinking all manner of horrible things. My father drew back 
the full cup and sipped the foam off the top. I think youll recall he was quite respectful 
of you two during your Moon Months. 
I remembered my father having pulled me aside during Dokes Moon Month. I was 
just a boy, a good ten years younger than Doke, and my father told me I was not to 
pester him about anything. Hes your brother, and thats just it. Youll be leaving him 
alone and not be asking about this and that. Understand? 
I said I did even though I didnt, but I also kept to myself all the questions I wanted 
to ask. Thinking back on it there at the table, I remember one of Dokes eyes having 
been blackedbadly enough that the bruise reddened his eyeball and extended well 
beyond the protection of the mask. And I remembered Sallitt, two years later, limping 
for the latter half of his Moon Month, which made him rather sour since he couldnt 
dance worth a lick at the various parties. 
Recalling their injuries did make me wonder what Id be facing. While I did know 
what the end result of my brothers Moon Months were, I really didnt know what theyd 
gone through during them. I mean stories of the parties and feasts were common 
knowledge. While, as a kid, I could not attend, everyone my age had seen the 
preparations for various events. Still and all, I didnt recall seeing much of either of my 
brothers 
during that month of their lives. 
All stories that I knew concerning what one did during a Moon Month came from kin 
of merchants and tradesfolk. Id heard of one girl whod been shut away in a cottage 
spinning wool into yarn, or a bakers-boy who had been tasked with making as much 
bread as he could in a day. Those sorts of monumental tasks were really the stuff of fey

stories, though, so I didnt set much store by them. The not knowing, however . . . that 
did start to get my stomach gnawing on itself. 
Doke looked over at me and smiled at the trace of concern his question had sparked. 
He settled a big hand around the back of my neck and shook me playfully. Dont you 
worry, Tarrant. Nothing that will happen to you hasnt happened to many before. They 
survived, as will you. 
Just survive? I would like more than that. 
So would many others, Tarrant. My father gave me a big smile. But, survival comes 
first. Remember that and youll be starting ahead of your fellows. Be yourself, and theyll 
never have a chance to catch up. 
Valsina, like any other Oriosan city or town, hosted a moon-mask gala on 
Mid-Summers Eve. The city-sponsored gala was not the only one held that night. 
Various guilds or religious sects held their own, but the city affair was by invitation 
only 
and involved the children from the finest families, a few of the brightest guild offerings, 
and a dozen or so people chosen by lot. Back then I didnt see that these lucky ones 
were really allowed to attend as curiosities. It was expected that the one night they spent 
in our company would likely be the highest they would rise in their lifetimes. In my 
excitement I missed the cruelty entirely. 
I spent the day as most others my age did, moving through a prescribed series of 
activities meant to reflect the new me. I began with a hot bath and good scrubbing, 
using a special cake of soap that had enough lye and grit in it to grind down the hoof of 
a horse. It left me red all over and tingling. My brothers helped me get over that feeling 
by dousing me with frigid water to rinse off. 
I washed my hair, too, and my mother trimmed it up some. I didnt go as far as some 
folks did, shaving their heads completely, but my mother allowed as how that was right 
since Id been born with a full head of hair anyway. There were folks, generally out in 
the hinterlands, who actually bashed a tooth out of their moonmasked children, since 
few folks are born with teeth, but in the city we didnt go that far. The rebirth was 
symbolic, after all, and we were coming into adult life as adults, not newborn babes. 
I got dressed in a new set of clothes, from tunic and trousers 
to stockings, boots, 
and belt. The tunic was green, of the same shade as those worn by Lord Norringtons 
retainers, and the trousers brown, though not as dark as the boots or belt. I wasnt 
allowed to wear so much as a knife. Tradition had it that a moonmasker shouldnt be 
saddled with the weapons of war, preserving innocence and all. I suspect theres a more 
practical reason, though, since not a few moonmaskers get puffed up by their status and 
are giddy enough to do stupid things like challenge others to duels. 
From home, with my mask in place, I made my way to the Godfield area of town. 
Valsina itself started in a small valley at the convergence of two rivers, and spread out 
over the years to cover the surrounding hills. Beyond it to the south and west are the 
Bokagul Mountainshome to one group of urZrethi, though Id never seen any of them 
when I was in the mountains. 
From there the rivers flowed north and east across the 
plains. At Valsina the Sut and Car Rivers become the Carst River, which twists on into 
Muroso on its way to the Crescent Sea to the northwest. 
The city itself is over five hundred years old. The original walls form a triangle in the 
middle of the city. Things spread out from there, with the architecture becoming less 
massive, less martial, and varying from elegant, like the Norrington Manor on South Hill, 
to more rundown and dismal along the river. Godfield lies just north of the Old Fort and 
is lined with temples and shrines. Despite being one of the older sections of town, the 
buildings are newer and quite impressive, but thats because most of them have tumbled 
down or gone up in flames at one point or another, allowing their congregations to start 
over and thus outshine the competition.

The Temple to Kedyn, the warrior god, had been built broad and strong. The grey 
and white stones used to build it were both crudely quarried and dragged from the fields 
wherever 
they lay. In some cases they were even hauled a long distance from the site of 
some memorable battles. The stones were then fitted together, with edges smoothed 
and outlines softened, leaving their natural shape mostly intact, but uniting them with 
the other stones to form a cohesive whole. Doke had once suggested to me that the 
builders intended the structure 
to suggest that different people, united in a cause, would 
be stronger than any individual alone, and that seemed to make sense. 
Of course, anyone growing up in Oriosa and destined to take the mask read a lot of 
symbolism into almost anything. We tended to look for added meaning in things, trying 
to find intent when nothing more serious than an accident had happened. 
Id heard my 
father often say that men of other nations hated that trait in us, and suggested we 
looked too hard for meanings. But he also said the ones who complained the loudest 
were those who didnt want their hidden plans discovered. 
I mounted the steps to the temple and bowed my head as I entered. Heavy pillars 
supported a tall ceiling and each ended in a cap shaped like the blade of a broad-ax. 
Stairs in the corners led up to a broad balcony, known as the priests-walk, which 
provided access to upper chambers. The priests maintained 
their personal quarters up 
there, as well as offices and storage space for seasonal decorations. 
The dome over the far end of the temple had been shaped to resemble the underside 
of a shield. A statue of Kedyn lurked beneath it. All massive and terrible, the statues 
base rested in a depression that had been sunk below street level and had steps leading 
down to it. Sand covered the stone disk that formed the base, and in it were scores of 
glowing coals sending thick ribbons of musky incense drifting up over Kedyns form. 
Scars crisscrossed his body where the cloak of dragon flesh did not cover it, and the 
helmet crested with dragons claws hid his face in deep shadows. Kedyn wore no mask 
here in Oriosa, but his body bore the signs with which we would have decorated 
a 
mask. He was matched to us and us to him. 
Murals depicting well-known battles or the exploits of famous 
heroes decorated the 
interior walls. Scattered throughout 
the main floor were statues of heroes and, in a few places, stone slabs marking 
the graves of Oriosan heroes from Valsina and the surrounding county who were 
deemed great and brave enough to be buried in the temple itself. No Hawkins had yet 
earned that honor, but my father said it was because we had the misfortune of surviving 
the sort of heroic acts that usually killed others and earned them a place in the temple. 
My mother, in raising us all, encouraged us to continue in that tradition. 
Off to the right was a small shrine to Gesric, the godling of retribution, and one of 
Kedyns children. Back and to the left was another smaller shrine to the crone Fesyin, 
Gesrics half-sister. Shed been born of a union between Kedyn and the female aspect of 
death. She governed pain, and many were the ill and maimed who made offerings to her 
to relieve their suffering. Her shrine stunk of metholanth incense, which did not mix well 
with the muskier stuff offered to Kedyn. 
I crossed to where one of the acolytes sold little charcoal biscuits shaped like a shield 
and thimblefuls of the incense powder favored by Kedyn. I offered him a fresh-minted 
Moon coina gold coin that I was honor bound to offer only once to any purveyor of 
goods in the city. The acolyte refused payment 
and gave me the charcoal and incense 
with a quick blessing. 
It was understood that in the future I would compensate, by 
action or through money, the kindness of everyone who refused to take my Moon 
coinand by the next full moon it would be accepted as payment without a second 
thought by any merchant I offered it to. 
I took the charcoal shield down the steps to the base and held the shield in the flame

of an igniter. I waited until the edge had caught, then blew on it gently. Sparks jumped 
from the slowly expanding crescent until the coal burned bright red. I placed it down in 
the sand, elevating the unburned edge ever so slightly, then knelt and bowed my head. 
It is said that the first prayer offered to a god by one of the moonmasked is the 
prayer most likely to be granted. Most folks say this with the assumption that the gods, 
who remain largely unseen and unheard from, favor the innocence with which such 
prayers are offered. Others, who have known some of the more self-confident of the 
moonmasked, assume the gods perversely grant that first prayer since most people 
discover 
it is not truly what they wanted or needed. And still others assume that the 
gods, like most moonmasked, are just silly and enjoy granting prayers that the faithful 
have no way of handling. 
I had given long and considerable thought to the prayer I would offer. The warrior 
god was the god to which the Hawkins 
men paid their respects, and he had done well 
by us. The prayer I offered then would be the same as a prayer I might offer in the field, 
but here it was meant to cover my entire life instead of provide support in an immediate 
situation. I had my choice of the prayers for any of the six Martial Virtues, and sorting 
through them had not been a simple task. 
No one prayed for Patience, though my father said that particular invocation was 
useful in the field when more waiting 
was being done than fighting. Many folks prayed 
for Mienthat collection of physical attributes such as strength, speed, and endurance 
that were crucial in combat. Courage and Spirit were also popular, as was Battlesight, or 
the ability to see and plan clearly for the campaigns to come. Each of them had their 
attraction for me, but I rejected them in the end. Physically I was well suited to being a 
warrior. I understood 
war and how it was waged, and realized that if I lived Id learn 
more all the time. Courage and Spirit were things I thought I possessed, but at eighteen 
summers of age, there was no way to know for certain. Still, the arrogance of youth 
allowed 
me to imagine myself as not lacking in those areas. 
What I asked for was Control. As I faced life and war, I wanted no illusions, no fog of 
war to confuse me, no momentary 
madness to leave me wondering where I was, why I 
was there, and what I should be doing. I wanted the clarity of mind that eludes many 
and without which all the other gifts would be useless. I knew that if my prayer were 
granted, I would find no escape from the madness that was war, that I would have to 
live with memories both exquisite and horrible, 
but better to live with them than not to 
live at all. 
Over the years I have been given to wonder if my choice was based in innocence, 
arrogance, or some sort of delicious insanity that compelled me to want to know just 
how completely 
mad I should be. 
I curled my left hand into a fist and clutched it to my breastbone, as if I were holding 
a shield covering my chest. My right hand poured the thimble of incense on the charcoal, 
then I extended my right arm down and away from my body, as if I were pointing a 
drawn sword at the ground. The incense began to smolder, pulsing a guttering ribbon of 
white smoke into the air. 
Most divine Kedyn, hear my prayer. I kept my voice low, so as not to disturb the 
warriors to either side of me. You are the wellspring from which all heroism flows. Your 
mind possesses 
the razored edge that parts fiction from fact, rumor from truth, fears 
from reality. I beseech you to hone my mind that I may see clearly, think clearly, and 
know in my heart and head what I must do, when I must do it, and how it will be best 
done. With your aid I will never shrink from battle, shirk my duty, or abandon those who 
most depend upon me. This I pledge on my honor, now and for all time. 
I glanced up at the statue. Smoke gathered around it like a thunderhead and I waited 
for a quick lightning strike. I got none, and realized I would have no sign of my prayer

being heard or granted. Then I smiled as I wondered if that realization 
itself confirmed 
that Kedyn had granted me Control. Or it could just be self-deception, which would be 
evidence of the opposite? 
Rising from my place, I ascended the steps again and presented 
myself to the 
acolyte. He took out a small carved stamp, inked it, and pressed it to my moonmask, 
below my right eye. It left there the tridentine sigil that marked my affiliation 
with 
Kedyn. I bowed to him, then wandered out of the temple. 
As I emerged from the temple, two moonmasked youths sitting at the base of the 
temple steps rose and started up toward me. Both wore clothes with a similar color 
scheme to mine, but their garments had been fashioned of silk that flashed in the 
sunlight. Each wore a big grin and had temple marks on their moonmasks. 
I recognized them instantly, but had to play through the charade of our being 
moonmasked. Good day, my men. Who under the moon are you? 
I am Rounce Playfair. Rounce stood almost as tall as me, wasnt nearly as big as I 
am, but almost made up in quickness what he lacked in strength. His brown hair had 
been trimmed short, in a style I knew his father favored, but his brown eyes sparked 
with enough mischief that I knew hed not taken his shearing badly. His moonmask bore 
the mark of Kedyn, which surprised me, since I thought hed have tended more toward 
Erlinsax, the goddess of wisdom, or Graegen, the male aspect of justice. 
And I, offered the shorter, blond man, am Bosleigh Norrington. Leighs blue eyes 
sparkled as he sketched a quick but ornate bow. He surrendered nearly a hand-width of 
height to me and nearly twenty pounds. His moonmask likewise had been marked in the 
warrior temple, but there never was a choice for Leigh. Despite being somewhat small 
and not all that fast, he was Lord Norringtons son, and that meant a warrior was all he 
could ever hope to be. Luckily for Leigh, it was all he had ever wanted to be. Though no 
one thought hed be the warrior his father was, most figured hed manage to uphold the 
Norrington honor nonetheless. 
Pleased to meet both of you. I am Tarrant Hawkins. I drew myself up to my full 
height, then frowned slightly. Why the warrior mark, Rounce? I didnt think you were 
inclined toward a warriors life. 
Rounce shrugged. The warrior virtues help those dealing with conflict, Tarrant. 
Business is conflict, hence my choice. Besides, Leigh pointed out that the trident has 
three tines, so the three of us should stick together. Well be stronger that way. 
True enough. I nodded toward Leigh. So wither are you bound, my lord? 
Leigh struck a noble pose, though his being a step below me and that much shorter 
made it seem a bit ridiculous. There is a tailor who is completing my costume for this 
evening. 
Ill give him moongold for itmy family pays him enough each year he can 
well afford to let this one suit of clothes go by without payment. Then back to the manor 
for I something to eat before the gala. Youll come with, of course. Rounce is coming, 
and some of the others. Do say youll come. I wont take no for an answer. 
I sighed. I will try, Leigh, but no promises. My sister Noni and her children are 
coming, and my mother hopes Annas will be there, too. 
Well, far be it from me to spoil a Hawkins gathering. Leighs eyes brightened. You 
should bring them all, even Nonis brood. Your father is my fathers Peaceward; youll all 
be welcome. You simply must come, all of you. 
I will try, Leigh. 
Rounce leaned a forearm on Leighs shoulder. Thats what he always says when he 
knows he wont join us. 
I grinned. My father, he is stuck in his ways. Its the way of his generation, not Lord 
Norringtons or ours. . . . The only way hell go to Norrington Manor is if he is on official 
duty or if Lord Norrington asks him to be there. It would practically take an armed escort

to get him to bring the fam-ily. 
Well, then, Tarrant, when we have taken our fathers places, the rules will be 
changed, wont they? Open doors and all that, I think. I wont have it any other way. 
Leigh slipped his shoulder from beneath Rounces forearm, then laughed as Rounce 
stumbled. Come on, Rounce, we have things to do. We shall see you tonight, then, 
Tarrant, yes? 
I helped steady Rounce. I will plead the case to my father, Leigh, but make no 
promises. If I do not see you there, I will find you at the gala. 
Good, then. Leigh threw me a sloppy salute. Tonight our lives truly begin, and the 
world will never be the same. 
JTt ruth be told, I would have welcomed some sameness to the I world, if only 
because of the tear in my mothers eye as she 1 smoothed the breast of my doublet that 
evening. I knew then that my growing up hurt her in ways I could not imagine and, 
worse, could do nothing to counter. Id tried to head things off by talking to my father 
about Leighs invitation, but he was unswayedas Id expected. Instead I remained with 
my family, catching my mother getting misty-eyed despite the joyful fellowship of a 
family come together once again. 
Valsinas gala was held at Senate Palace. The large and rather ornately decorated 
building had steps that led up into a rotunda. Portraits and statues of leaders decorated 
it, but the most striking feature was the gallery of masks that matched those of the 
Senators serving in Upper and Lower Assemblies. The sixteen members of the Upper 
Assembly were nobles elected by the Lower Assembly, which was made up of tradesfolk 
and nobles from cadet branches of the houses. Each had to be able to trace his family 
back to the time of the Great Revolt, and while many folks in Oriosa could do that, only 
those who had amassed a certain amount of material wealth ever reached the Senate 
floor. 
On this night the Upper Assemblys small gallery, which sat above and behind the 
entryway to the Lower Assembly floor, had been staffed with musicians who played a 
host of songs which had been sanctified by their antiquity. To enter the gala, I passed 
through a long corridor that led beneath the orchestra and brought me out at the head 
of some long steps going down to the rectangular assembly floor. A wide-railed walkway 
ringed the room to provide space for spectators wanting to study the Assemblies in 
action but, unlike tonight, chairs were not usually provided. 
I paused at the head of the stairs as a masked chamberlain in red pounded his staff 
against the floor twice, then announced me. I present Master Tarrant Hawkins. Mild 
applause, mostly from the spectators, followed the announcement, then I descended 
the 
steps. 
The room spread out wide on either side of me. A massive castle of ascending high 
benches split the far wall as the stairs did at this side. The hardwood platforms rose one 
above the other, front to back, and normally housed the Assemblys Speaker and his 
various deputies, but this night were festooned 
with flowers. A big, round silver mirror, 
reminiscent of the moon, hung from the Speakers seat and provided us with a view that 
gathered us all together and shrank us down to nothing. Tables laden with food and 
drink surrounded the Speakers platform as if breastworks to hold us at bay. 
I quickly spotted Rounce and joined him at a table where a servant pressed a goblet 
of wine into my hands. The vintage was a red that was both dry and hearty, though it 
had a touch of sweetness and the faint flavor of berries. It was a wine that had aged, 
which surprised me, since the moonmasked often got brand-new wines that had yet to 
mature. 
I smiled at Rounce. Good wine. 
I know, I picked it out. He bowed his head to me as applause descended from

above in the wake of another entrant being announced. The Speaker asked my father to 
supply the wine for this evening, and he intended to use the first pressing from last year, 
but I prevailed upon him to go deeper in the cellar. He almost balked, but I reminded 
him that what moon-gold buys now, real gold will buy later, and having us remember 
the wine as good instead of symbolic would be best. 
Good thinking. I sipped more wine and raised my goblet in a salute to him. 
Though thoughts like that are what made me wonder about your tridentine mark. 
He gave me a quick smirk. Armies need quartermasters, dont they? 
My father never reported having good wine in the field. 
Then Ill have to change that. He held his goblet in both hands and looked down 
into it. I thought about Graegen, as you suggested, or even Turic . . . 
Turk? Youd pledge yourself to Death? 
The female aspect is more concerned with change than death, but you cant say that 
death has not changed my fortunes. 
Here I started life as the first son of a merchant 
who had a noble for a cousin, then an illness takes that branch of the family and 
suddenly were elevated. Im not really different than I was before, but . . . 
I nodded. I had seen Rounce in Valsina before his familys elevation when I 
accompanied my mother on her trips to market. Playfair & Sons Traders were known as 
honest merchants, 
but Rounce and I were just kids who eyed each other suspiciously. 
When his father became a noble, the family firm became Playfair & Sons Trading 
Company, and Rounce was expected to move into new social circles. He ended up in the 
same student battalion as Leigh and I. Being bigger than most others since wed gotten 
our growth early, we were thrown together in many exercises, thereby becoming friends. 
As my father says, Rounce, Its not the man in the prettiest 
uniform before the 
battle thats remembered, but the man whos still standing after it. Youre one of those 
who will still be standing. 
Only if youre holding me up. Rounce slapped me on the arm. By the way, be 
prepared. You were missed at dinner and Leigh might be in a bit of a mood. 
And this would be unusual because . . . ? 
Rounce laughed, then pointed up at the top of the stairs. Youll see. Heres our little 
Leigh now. 
The echoes of the staff reverberated through the hall. It took the third staff-strike to 
kill the murmuring voices, and the fourth buried them in silence. The chamberlain waited 
a heartbeat or two to guarantee no ghost of conversation lingered, then made his 
announcement. I present Lord Bos-leigh Norrington. 
Leigh, at the top of the stairs, bowed handsomely as hearty applause washed over 
him. The nights dress code had required 
us to wear something other than our 
moonmasks that was whitewhich Rounce and I accomplished with our shirts. Leigh 
had gone a considerable step further, decked out in a full jacket made of white satin, 
with lace at the throat and cuffs. His pants likewise were white satin and ran down to his 
knees, where they met white stockings. His shoes, which were low cut, had been cobbled 
together from white leather and had big silver buckles. 
He descended the stairs at a leisurely pace, smiling and waving at those below, 
bowing his head at the spectators above. Leigh was in his element, with all eyes on him. 
It had been that way since his birth, to hear my father tell it, since he was Lord 
Norringtons firstborn and a son. The boy had grown into a man used to such attention, 
who was, in many ways, uncomfortable when he didnt get it. 
Rounce and I looked at each other and laughed as Leigh reached the floor. He 
continued to make his way toward us, pausing to bow to the girls who giggled at him. 
His progress through the crowd took long enough for me to nearly finish my wine. 
Rounce had started on another full goblet by the time Leigh arrived.

Leigh bumped against me, then looked up and smiled. Oh, Tarrant, there you 
areId expected you to be off eating something. And you, Rounce. 
I grinned. Make it sound as if you werent looking for us. 
Well, I was, of course, my dear friends, but I cant let them know that. His eyes 
rolled up to sweep the spectators gallery. It would not do to let them think I am so 
fragile that I cannot exist without my friends. 
Rounce rolled his eyes. Keep talking like that and you wont have any friends. 
Dont be offended. You know I jest. 
Just a little too often, Leigh. I stepped out of the way to provide Leigh access to the 
wine table. Your pleasure, my lord? 
Leigh sniffed and moved past me. Well, arriving is such dry work . . . 
I glanced past him at the spectators gallery and did feel a little uneasiness coil in my 
stomach. All the spectators wore fine clothes, but they were cut from cloth dyed bright 
red. Their masks covered their faces in full and were without decoration, 
completely 
obscuring their identities. While some individuals, 
like the Assembly Speaker, were 
corpulent or remarkable enough to be recognizable, most of the observers sank into a 
red sea of anonymity. They were there not to be seen, but to watch us and decide our 
fate. What they saw at any point might determine which regiment would offer me a 
chance to join it, or what merchant house might vie for my services. Leighs concern 
over the spectators mocked their import, 
since his life was already decided. It dawned 
on me immediately 
that I had no such assurances, so I finished my wine and began 
looking for a woman to guide to the dance floor and show I could be well mannered. 
Leigh managed, in that moment, to provide me an opportunity 
to show off my more 
martial side. Hed been making his way down the table, bending to sniff the various 
vintages. Rounce stood with him and Leigh would announce a district and year for each 
wine offered, with Rounce confirming each judgment. This continued until Leigh 
bumped into someone on his right and, without even looking at the person, snapped at 
him in a rather imperious tone. 
Give way, sir, for my mission is most urgent. 
While most take their wine through the mouth, looks as if you sniff it up, ay? 
Leighs head turned slightly in the speakers direction, and I knew he caught a glimpse 
of the mans black homespun trousers and polished but well-worn boots. Unfortunately, 
bent over as he was, Leigh wasnt in a good position to judge just how big this man was. 
I said, give way, good fellow. 
Not sir no more? 
I Leigh turned and straightened up, then was forced to crane his neck back to look up 
past the mans heavily muscled chest and shoulders to his face. A thick shock of red hair 
capped the mans head, and freckles could be seen spreading over his cheeks below the 
moonmask. Green eyes glittered emeraldlike in the mask, and I spotted a trident below 
the right eye. The man wore a black linen tunic, with a band of white cloth tied around 
his left biceps. An evil grin split his face. 
Perhaps, good fellow Leigh persisted, I should acquaint you with the manners 
prized in society. 
The man raised his right hand and curled it into a fist that would have filled a 
fair-sized mixing bowl. Perhaps I should acquaint you with my fist. 
Easy, friend, easy. I stepped forward and wedged myself between him and Leigh. 
Youve been lucky enough to be chosen to be here tonight. Stretch that luck and avoid a 
fight. 
I aint your friend. 
No, but we all are marked by Kedyn. That must count for something. I grinned up 
at him and offered him my right hand. I am Tarrant Hawkins.

The larger man nodded his head slowly, then opened his right hand and engulfed 
mine in his grip. Naysmith Carver, armorers apprentice. Have a mind to be using what 
I made, not be making more. A smile slowly followed his words and I shook his hand 
heartily. 
Freeing my hand from his, I turned, forcing Leigh and Rounce back a bit. Bosleigh 
Norrington you have met. This is Rounce Playfair. 
Pleased, Rounce offered. 
As well. Naysmith glanced down at Leigh. The wine to the end is the best, if you be 
continuing down that way. 
Leigh blinked, then nodded. A smile grew on his face as he slipped round me and 
past Naysmith. Say, Nayoh, my, that rhymessay, Nay, how went your day? He 
laughed to himself. 
So lyrical, that. 
Naysmiths eyes narrowed. 
I held a hand up. Forgive him, please, Naysmith. Hes just excited and gets like that. 
Mid-Summers Eve and all. 
A good slap will fix that, ay? 
Leigh plucked a goblet of wine from the table and turned back toward us. But only 
the finest slap for me. 
Naysmiths right hand flexed, and I had no doubt his best shot would spin Leighs 
head around like a weathercock in a gale. 
I sought to distract the big man. What company were you hoping to join, Naysmith? 
I answer to Naytoo many Smiths about. Nay shrugged. Home Guards, if I must. 
The Norrington Foot Guards is best. See more than Valsina. 
Not the Frontier Lancers, or the Oriosan Scouts? Leigh regarded us with a broad 
smile on his face. The Heavy Dragoons could use someone like you, though I doubt 
theres a horse that would carry you. 
Some do, some dont. Nay tossed off the rest of his wine and started to wipe his 
mouth on his sleeve, but thought better of it. Riders worry about sticking and stabbing. 
Been laboring for years with a hammer. Bashing and laying about with a maul is for me. 
Your strength will serve you well in war. Leigh finished his wine and returned the 
goblet to the table. How will you fare at a ball, though? The watchers have seen we can 
drink, so shall we thrill some of these ladies with a turn about the floor? 
Knowing Leigh the way I did, the hint of cruelty in his question wasnt lost on me. 
While there wasnt a girl present who wouldnt be overjoyed to be seen on Leighs 
armor Rounces, for that mattermost of the girls were from a class that would 
scarcely spare Nay a look. Even those girls who had learned the skills necessary for a 
trade would be interested in marrying, and none of them at this age had anything but 
dreams of bettering herself through matrimony. While all would have said they would 
marry for love, a title or money or lands makes a suitor very lovable indeed. 
Nay looked over at the blizzard of dancers swirling in time to the music. Dont know 
this step. 
His voice carried no surrender with it, and Leigh picked up on that immediately. 
Name a step, then, and Ill call the tune. 
r Dont know as how it has a name. Nay folded heavily muscled arms over his chest. 
We dance it to the song Firetoes. 
Rounce hummed a moment or two, then nodded. Firelight 
Dash is the step, Leigh. 
Firelight Dash it shall be, then. Gentlemen . . . Leigh waved us in his wake. I let Nay 
slip in after Rounce and before me, which earned me a frown from Leigh. I meant you 
to come as well, Hawkins. 
I gathered, my lord. 
Nay glanced back over his shoulder at me. Which is it youre called?

Tarrant when hes being nice, Hawkins all other times. 
Must hear Hawkins a lot, then. 
Easier to rhyme than Tarrant. 
I heard that. Leigh turned quickly and stuck his tongue out at me. Along came Nay 
and Tarrant, the fearful giant and the ant . . . Spinning around again he darted up the 
stairs and spoke to the chamberlain, who then spoke to the lead musician. Leigh all but 
skipped back down the steps. 
It is set. He smiled and waved a hand at a line of young women. Gentlemen, 
choose your weapons. 
Leigh and Rounce immediately plunged into a cloud of giggling girls. Nay looked back 
to our left, toward a small knot of girls who were dressed as he was, but I caught his 
arm. He looked down with his face twisted in puzzlement, but I gave him a reassuring 
smile. I have an idea, if youre game. 
Nay grunted and nodded. 
I led him over to a pair of twins, May and Maud Lamburn. The flaxen-haired beauties 
had bright blue eyes peeking out from beneath their moon masks. Though small enough 
that I dwarfed them, and close as twins always are, they were also known for a keen 
sense of competition. If I asked one to dance, the other couldnt stand to be left alone, 
so she would accept the next invitation offered. 
And, on top of that, both of them danced very well. 
May, I would request the pleasure of this dance. 
May took my hand with a smile and a nod. I am honored. 
I smiled at her sister. Maud, this is my friend, Naysmith Carver. 
If your ladyship would permit . . . Nay offered her his hand and she took it. 
We escorted our partners onto the floor and took up positions 
behind Rounce and 
Leigh. Rounce had asked Lindsey Cotter to dance with him, but that was no surprise. 
Hed been sweet on her for the better part of a year. Leigh, on the other hand, had asked 
Nolda Disper to join him, though for size she would have been a better match with Nay. 
Still, with her long hair so blonde it was almost white, and her skin a gentle damask, she 
and Leigh seemed of a type. Her pale blue eyes proved a few shades lighter than his, 
and the hard nature of her stare would have chilled me to the bone. 
Our partners knew the moment the first violinist put bow to string that the four 
couples were in a competition. The Firelight Dash is one of those festive, long-stride 
galloping type dances, with quick turns and laughter and gay abandon. The full-skirted 
gowns the girls wore that night were not well suited to it, but there Nay and I had an 
advantage. As we spun across the floor, whisking our partners around this way and that, 
we could lift the Lamburn sisters clear of the floor, freeing 
their trapped feetand 
keeping them out from under my feet, as well. 
Leigh, to his credit, realized hed been overmatched from the start, so kept to the 
center of the floor and let the rest of us circle him and Nolda. He led her through a 
version of the dance that was more stately than frenetic. His turns let her long hair 
sweep out in a wondrous display, and his frequent bows in her direction made her the 
center of attention. He showed her off to her benefit before all, while the rest of us 
became fast-moving fish in an ocean of white. 
I admired him for thinking that quickly. I also pitied him because Nay, Rounce, and I 
were having great fun in the dance. Somewhere in it, as the music took hold, all the 
anxiety I had been feeling about the night and its import drained away. I let my laughter 
mingle with everyone elses, then drew it all back in and let it live in my heart. 
The song ended all too fast as far as I was concerned. May had weathered well my 
clumsy leading through the dance, and even gave me a smile when I bowed to her. Nay 
and I both nodded to the twins as they curtsied to us, then we let the Lamburn sisters

return to the coterie from which we had drawn them. Other girls surrounded them, 
insulating them from music with a cacophony of giggles which, for some reason, 
started 
a bit of a blush creeping up my cheeks. 
Nay slapped me on the back. Not a bad stepper, that Maud. 
Thanks for helping me keep the peace there. 
That was it then, not dancing? Nay grinned ever so slightly, then rubbed a hand 
across his chin. If you like, there are two other girls, my masters daughter and friend, 
we could give a whirl. 
A fair trade, I think. 
We turned and started toward the group of girls Nay had looked at before, but 
Rounce caught up with us and Leigh cut us off. Where are you going? 
I fixed Leigh with a gimlet eye. This is a gala, so were off to enjoy ourselves. 
Ah, Tarrant, I had such high hopes for you. Leigh shook his head mournfully. This 
is not a gala, this is a livestock auction. They watch, they choose. 
I wrinkled my nose. Im not sure I like the sound of livestock auction.  
Neither do I, dear boy, but at least we have a bid. Leigh held up a folded slip of 
paper. I was given this just now. 
I took it from him and unfolded it. Rather than chance Nays not being able to read, I 
read it aloud in a hoarse whisper. Your demeanor and spirit impress us. Midnight, in the 
west garden, by the north gate. 
Nay ran a hand through his red hair. Invite to an alley bashing, sounds like. 
Hardly, my big friend. Leigh took the note back from me. Were being invited to 
glimpse the future. And I think, for us, it will be a most pleasant one indeed. 
The full moon stared down dispassionately at the four of us as we waited at the 
gardens north gate. Moonlight glowed off Leighs outfit, making him look like an 
overdressed ghost. Rounce kept glancing back at the dark edifice of the Senate Palace, 
silently lamenting that the plans hed had for ending the evening with Lindsey Cotter 
would not come to fruition. I sat myself down on one of the carved granite benches and 
sniffed night-blooming yismyn flowers. 
Nay shuffled his feet and paced nervously along the gentle curve of the crushed 
marble walkway near the gate. Hed get as far as Leigh, then turn on his heel and march 
back toward the gate. Leigh, Rounce, and I had assured him that he was included in the 
message Leigh had received. 
Nay had countered, A trident only has three tines. 
But it also has a haft, which is bigger than any of the tines, and that describes you, 
Nay. I patted him on the arm and was a bit amazed at just how hard his muscles were. 
You really are meant to be with us. 
Leigh had agreed. Come now, dear fellow, do you think I would be wrong about 
such things? The invitation was for my companions, and you are one of them. Youve 
danced with one of the dreaded Lamburn sisters, so you are clearly valiant. 
Nay scowled. Dont like an invite what doesnt say who sent it. 
Laughter rolled melodically from Leighs throat. Oh, but thats the joy of the day, 
Nay. Its the mystery of it all. Look at the watchers, secure in their anonymity, all 
wrapped up in red secrets. You know why they wear red, dont you? Its the color of 
blood and the color of life. Its to stress their import and to show how they have the 
power to make our lives or destroy them. 
He lowered his voice and all of us had to lean down to his level to hear him continue. 
The man who gave this note to the chamberlain had a military bearing. Even the script 
is the type they teach officers so orders will be clear. Weve clearly understood their 
order. We didnt drink too much, just danced, showed we are not out of control. Well be 
the winners 
here, all four of us, tines and haft together.

In the garden Leigh had stationed himself on the walkway to prevent Nay from 
bolting. I think Nay fascinated Leigh because the man clearly was not frightened by him, 
nor did he particularly care if he offended the son of the citys highest noble. Instead Nay 
seemed more frightened of doing something 
that would prevent him from reaching his 
dream. Being with us when he shouldnt be could certainly do that, but running away 
when he should be with us would also doom him. He bounced back and forth between 
those two alternatives, 
and only Leighs having positioned himself to cut off any retreat 
forced Nay to remain with us. 
Which, from the occasional smile that graced his moonlit face, I judged to be what he 
wanted to do anyway. 
The north gate itself was not one of the gardens best known features. A small, 
iron-bound oak door had been set in an arched doorway. Ivy covered the wall around it, 
and curled tendrils reached for the door itself. Id not seen it before from this side, and I 
couldnt recall having seen it on the handful of times Id been walking along High Street. 
Crickets competed with crunch of stone beneath Nays feet until Leigh hissed: Quiet; 
listen. 
I heard nothing at first, then, from the other side of the wall I caught the muffled 
thump of horses hooves on cobblestone 
and the occasional squeak of wagon wheel on 
axle. The hoofbeats should have been sharp and clear, so I assumed rags had been tied 
over the hooves to kill the sound. That realization 
puckered my flesh. 
Nay stared hard at the door and whatever lay beyond it. Not liking this at all. 
All part of the game, old shoe. Leigh tried to keep his voice light, but he still ended 
up wiping his palms on his jacket. 
I stood as a key rasped in the lock. Ivy leaves bounced and shimmered in the 
moonlight as the door opened outward, pulling free of clinging vines. From my angle I 
could see nothing 
through the doorway, but Nay bobbed his head, then nodded. 
He 
flashed me two fingers. 
I smiled. Smart man. He can see two people, but doesnt think they need to know 
theyve been seen. 
A voice disguised in a hoarse whisper snapped an order at us. Come on now, the 
four of you. No time to waste. 
Leigh flashed a quick knowing smile at Nay, then strolled through the doorway as if 
he had not a care in the world. Rounce followed him, bowing his head to get through. 
Nay had to stoop and shift his shoulders at an angle, and I let him precede me so hed 
not have any excuse to run off. I came last and heard the door squeak shut behind me. 
The wagon Id heard roll up had been a big, boxy affair, the kind that serves as both 
shop and home for tinkers and traders who make a circuit through the hinterlands. I saw 
that rags had been tied around the hooves of the team drawing it and likewise had been 
wrapped around the wheels iron rims. The wagon had no windows that I could see, and 
I only saw the door as I came around the back of it. The door itself had been hinged at 
the bottom and served as a ramp for walking up into the interior. Two men, hooded and 
cloaked and masked in shadow, guided us up the ramp. Not unexpectedly, the ramp 
rose behind me, cutting off the light from the street before Id gotten much of a look at 
the wagons interior. 
What little I did see didnt tell me much. Two padded benches lined each side, but the 
box remained otherwise un-decorated. There did appear to be a small window at the top 
of the forward wall that would let someone communicate with the driver, but the panel 
covering it was closed. When the ramp closed, I heard a bar being dropped behind it to 
keep it shut. Someone slapped a hand against the back of the wagon, then we started off 
with a lurch that spilled me to the floor at my companions feet. 
Really, Hawkins, time enough to thank me for including you on this adventure later.

No need to prostrate yourself now . . . 
I made sure to press down heavily on Leighs thigh as I climbed to my feet. I have 
no intention of letting you believe Im ungrateful, Leigh. 
I see that. He hissed with pain and gently shoved me back. I stumbled into Rounces 
lap, then slid off to my left and onto the empty half of a bench across from Nay. Well, 
quite the interesting little start to our adventure, is it not, gentlemen? 
I twisted around and settled my back against the rear of the wagon. Im fairly certain 
Rounce would prefer Lindseys warm kisses to this cold box. 
Ill just carry on bravely, Tarrant, and shell reward me for it. 
Quite so; thats the spirit. Leighs voice shifted in tone to something a little less 
warm. What think you, Nay? 
Dont know as what Im supposed to think. Nay sniffed twice. Racing along like this, 
well be out of the city soon. 
I nodded. The wagon had kept on rather straight, only making the few jogs that High 
Street did as it headed to the West Gate. This time of night it would run into little if any 
traffic on the way, and if we were meant to travel out of the city, I had little doubt those 
taking us would have the authority 
to speed on through the gate. If we head west, well 
be into the forests before much time. Anyone have an idea what theyll do with us? 
Dear boy, for us to have any idea of what they will do with us would be for us to be 
privy to information were not supposed to have. Leigh laughed carelessly. I could 
speculate about what they might do with us, if you wish. 
I was determined not to give him the satisfaction, but a wheel hit a pothole, jouncing 
me up and landing me on my backside hard enough to force a quick yip from me. 
Oh, prize to the wolf-yipper. Thats it exactly. 
Leigh, explain it, if you please, for those of us who arent as fluent in wolf as Tarrant 
is. 
It is simple, dear Rounce. They will be taking us deep into the wood and will drop us 
off in some spot from which we will be forced to make our way home. The journey will 
call upon us to work together to survive, and will demand from us all our survival skills. 
Well have to find food and water, all those things. It will be a fun outing. 
My eyes narrowed. You knew this very much in advance, didnt you? 
Know? No. 
I leaned forward. If not, why did you choose to wear a coat this evening, one thick 
enough to keep you warm if were a couple of nights out in the woods? 
Well, I might have guessed a coat would be useful, but not as useful as you think. 
Leighs hand slapped against the wagons wall. This coach will travel twice as fast as a 
man c*n walk in an hour, or perhaps three times. I have no innate sense of time . . . 
Thats right, Rounce growled, which is why you always manage to be late. 
That notwithstanding, Rounce, the simple fact is that you or Hawkins or even our 
new friend will likely be able to look at the moon when we are released and can guess 
how long we have been traveling. At best, I would imagine, we will have eight hours of 
walking back. 
Puzzle that out yourself? 
Indeed I did, Nay. Leigh snickered in his corner. And it helped that my father is 
holding a dinner tomorrow in my favorour favorand he would not have scheduled it 
when he did if he expected me to be late. Or later than usual. 
Dont like the sound of this at all. A thundercrack reverberated 
through the box: Nays fist pounding the side. Should have warned us. 
Dear friends, did I not suggest you avoid too much wine so as to be clear-headed for 
this adventure? I did, didnt I? If Id not warned you, youd all be besotted right now. 
I must have been besotted to be here. I let a low growl rumble from my throat. If

youd hinted, Leigh, we could have eaten more. We could have slipped some cheese into 
our pockets ... 
Stuffed bread up your . . . shirttails. 
My, my, rather testy. Be careful, my friends, or I might not lead you back to Valsina. 
Be going my own way. Dont need you, Leigh. 
Will it be the Nay way for you two, as well? 
I think we should all calm down a bit here. Lets remember 
that tines and haft thing, 
shall we? Rounces words came firm and cut through the growing tension. If they 
wanted four of us, presumably there are some challenges out there that require four of 
us to handle. I know Hawkins, Leigh, and I have spent time in the countryside, out 
hunting, living off the land. Whats your experience, Nay? 
Done my time woodcutting. He fell silent for a moment, then plunged on. My 
mother, she makes cures, so I know to harvest some plants and roots and berries. 
Good, thats a skill we dont possess. Rounce yawned. I dont know about the rest 
of you, but Ive had a long day. Getting to sleep in this wagon may not be easy, but Ill 
suggest it. If Leighs right, and chances are he is, weve a longer day before us 
tomorrow. 
Well, Im all for sleep, gentlemen. Perhaps Ill dream up a way we can return in style. 
Wouldnt that be something? 
I shook my head. It would, Leigh, but Ill leave the dreaming to you. I have a feeling 
this exercise will be rooted more in reality than anything else. 
Though I tried to remain awake during the journey, the day did catch up with me and 
I drifted off. Just prior to that we had taken a turn that should have put us on a 
southwesterly 
jog, and wed begun to climb into the foothills of Bokagul, but thats the 
last thing I remember before the wagon stopped and cool air flooded in through the 
open doorway. 
I rolled off the bench and started down the ramp. Yawning, I nodded at the two men 
standing in the moonwashed forest road. Given the moons position I figured wed been 
on the road for the better part of three hours, which put dawn another 
three hours off. 
I flung my arms wide to stretch. One of the cloaked figures drifted forward and gave 
me a hearty shove in the flank. I stumbled toward the side of the road, intent on 
remaining on my feet, but I ran out of ground. 
I tumbled into a ravine, passing first through a screen of thorny blackberry bushes. I 
hit on my knees beyond that, snapping some deadfall branches, then began a somersault 
that bounced and tossed me down the steep hill. Somewhere in all that I clipped a 
sapling with my right thigh. This started me spinning wildly, caroming me off this tree 
and that and finally dumping me in the grasp of a lone pines gnarled and exposed roots. 
I heard more crashing around me and at least one splash. I tried to stand, but my 
right leg apparently decided it was done for the night, so it collapsed. I slid facefirst 
down to the stream running through the ravines heart. My fingers sank into cold mud, 
but didnt sink so far that I got a dunking. 
I heard more splashing, and then a laugh. Just as well you didnt stuff bread in my 
coat, as it would be soggy mush right now. 
A match for your brains, then. 
Well done, Nay . . . with your wit, me you may yet slay. Triple rhyme! 
Rounce, you with us? I looked around and could see Leigh sitting in a pool and Nay 
crouched on a rock at the streams edge. Rounce? 
Here. From further upslope he made his way down to us. He leaned on trees as he 
came and held his left arm across his chest. Anyone else hurt? 
Just my pride. 
Likely a mortal wound on you, then. Nay pitched a small pebble toward Leigh. Not

hurt either. 
I pushed back from the stream and tried to gather my legs beneath me. I was finally 
able to stand, but the lower part of my right leg still felt a little numb. Ill be fine pretty 
soon. Whats wrong, Rounce? 
Hit a tree on the way down. I think I broke a rib. 
Nay stood. Coughing blood? 
Not so far. 
Good thing. Nay walked down toward Rounce, then veered off and snapped a sprig 
off a low bush. He stripped off all but the newest of the fat, round leaves at the tip, then 
folded the twig in half until it cracked. He plucked the leaf off and extended both the twig 
and leaf to Rounce. 
What is it? 
Fesyin Bane. Broke the twig like the rib. Press them together 
to draw off the pain. 
Pulp the leaf and tuck it in your cheek. 
I sniffed. Smells like metholanth. 
Rounce accepted the leaf and chewed it, but waved away the broken twig. The leaf 
will do. 
Nay lifted his chin. The twig draws pain. 
Leigh splashed his way over. I see our big friend is superstitious. 
Perhaps, Nay, you 
think I should thank the spirit of this stream for stopping me without injury. 
Spirits aint godlings. Nay pressed the twig into Rounces left hand, then laid it 
against his ribs. Broke twig draws pain. 
Rounce looked at me, but I just shrugged. Cant hurt. 
Rounce nodded. It is feeling a bit better. 
Leigh flicked wet hair off his forehead. Take you into the wildness and you become 
savages, all of you. Fear not, this way to civilization. 
Rounce fell into step behind him. Think he knows where hes going? 
I dont know. I limped into line after him. He was smart enough to figure out what 
would happen to us. 
Nay, behind me, tapped me on the shoulder. Not that smart. 
Say what? Leigh glanced back at us. What makes you think Im not that smart? 
Your shoes. 
I laughed and Rounce joined me for a moment before he hissed and grabbed his ribs. 
Nays right, Leigh. Those shoes arent suited to hiking back to Valsina. 
Perhaps he knows a cure for blistered feet. 
Suffering. Nays hearty chuckle warmed my heart. Builds calluses and character. 
Character? Piffle! I have enough character for 
An unearthly shriek split the night. The four of us yelped in response, then took off 
running toward it. Nay and I quickly passed Rounce, but Leigh and Nay drew ahead of 
me with ease. I kept after them and watched them scramble up a small hill. They 
silhouetted themselves against the moon, then Nays big form reeled to the right and 
dropped to its knees. I watched his body twitch and his head dip, and I knew he was 
vomiting. 
I reached the crest of the hill and stood beside an unmov-ing Leigh. Before us, in a 
small depression in the top of the hill, lay the body of a man. A shredded cloak lay a 
short way away from him and his bare face stared up at the sky. Without a mask on, 
there was no way Leigh or I could recognize him. Blood soaked his clothes and the 
ground, but in the moonlight 
both it and his clothing took on the same dark burgundy 
hue. 
A sword lay on the ground with its hilt near his right thigh. He could have reached 
down for it, were he still aliveand if he still had his right arm. He wasnt and didnt.

Rounce came up on my right. Oh, by the gods. Hes dead, isnt he? 
Very dead, but the thing that killed him isnt. I looked around at my companions. I 
think this test of our survival skills just got a lot harder. Chances are real good that 
tomorrow 
well be very late for dinner. 
Being late for dinner is not my concern. Being dinner is. Leigh stooped and picked up 
the sword. Hawkins, get the dagger on his belt. Theres another in his boot for you, 
Rounce. 
In a minute, Leigh. I walked over to Nay and dropped to one knee beside him. He 
remained down on all fours and twitched when I settled my left hand in the middle of his 
broad back. How are you doing? 
He turned his head to look at me and the moon leeched all the warm color from his 
face. Haint seen someone done like that. 
Neither have the rest of us. 
He half-laughed and spit. Little ropy lines of mucus dripped slowly down from his 
mouth to the pine needles covering 
the ground. So much for my prayer for courage 
being granted. 
Id not judge Kedyn that harshly. After all, you only took a step or two away and 
puked. If you didnt have courage, you might have run screaming. I got my hand under 
his right arm. Ready to get up? Wipe your mouth. 
Nay swiped his sleeve across his mouth, spit twice more, then staggered to his feet. 
He turned and looked at the corpse and almost heaved again, but managed to keep his 
gorge down. Thanks, Hawkins. Be fine now. 
Rounce tossed me the dead mans belt, complete with an empty scabbard and the 
sheathed knife. I looped it over my right shoulder. Are we going to bury him? 
 Spose we ought to. Rounce nodded as he slipped the boot dagger into his own 
boot top. Leigh? 
Leigh, who had been crouched examining a patch of earth, grabbed the swords 
quillons and levered himself upright. I dont think it will matter much since there arent 
that many stones around here. The thing that killed him wont have trouble 
digging him 
back up no matter what we do. 
You find a track? I skirted the body and came over to look at the place where the 
leaves and needles had been scratched back to the bare earth. I squatted and let my 
fingers trail over the trio of parallel tracks, but Id never seen anything 
like them before. 
What is it? 
Leighs silhouette shifted its shoulder uneasily. I dont know for certain, but my father 
once described something like this. 
What do you think it is? 
A temeryx. 
I shot to my feet as a chill rolled down my spine. A frostclaw this far south? And in 
summer? 
I no more like the idea than you, dear Hawkins, but it has been a chilly summer. 
Leigh pointed the sword back toward the body. Check his back. Youll find claw marks 
there, too. 
But there arent any feathers. It cant be a temeryx. Leigh shook his head. Fine, 
have it your way. It was a rogue bear, one with only three toes on each paw, which 
snuck up on a man, killed him, bit off an arm, and then ran off before we got here. 
My mind refused to believe a frostclaw could be all the way down in Oriosaless 
because it wasnt possible than because if it were true, the chances of our making it 
home were growing 
smaller. Of course, Id never actually seen one of the beasts, and I 
was certain the stories told of them made them out to be nastier than they possibly could 
be, but whatever had killed the man had certainly worked quickly and quietly, in keeping

with the descriptions of temeryces. 
Nay toed the dead mans booted foot. What was he doing out here? 
Hes dressed in red, like the watchers from the gala. Rounce picked up the mans 
cloak and fastened it about his own neck. Perhaps they sent him out here to watch us 
and report back. 
Makes sense to me. I shifted the belt around and fastened 
it about my waist. If it 
returns for more of its kill, I think I want to be far away from here. 
Rounce frowned. We cant just leave his body for that thing to eat. 
Nay snorted. Not liking the idea of carrying a frostclaws dinner with us. And that 
cloak has blood on it. 
The cloak puddled around Rounces feet. Thanks for pointing that out. 
Well, gentlemen, our course is clear. We head east-northeast 
as quickly as we can. 
Leigh pointed the sword in the direction of Valsina. Well have to be alert and quick. 
Nay folded his arms across his chest. You having the sword . . . You must be the 
best swordsman among us, then? 
Rounce shook his head. Hawkins is better, actually. 
Then why does Leigh have the sword? 
I have the sword, dear Nay, because I am a Norrington. Leighs surprised expression 
clearly suggested he had no idea why Nay would think anyone else would be entitled to 
carry it. Perhaps you somehow think you should wield it? 
No. Nay walked over to a fallen tree and snapped off a thick branch about a yard 
and a half long. Do fine bashing with this. If Hawkins is better with the sword, though, 
it should be his. 
I held my hands up. Let Leigh keep it. I may be better, but hes not bad. Being his 
fathers son, hes likely heard lots about frostclaw killing, so he can put it to better use. 
Leigh spread his arms. Anything else, or shall we go? 
After you, my lord. I waved Leigh forward, then fell in behind him. Rounce came 
after me and Nay brought up the rear. 
Though it wasnt the sort of hot and humid summer night I was used to, it was not 
really cold. Even so, I felt chilled to the bone. My left hand rode on the hilt of the 
dagger, ready to draw it in an instant. My ears strained for any hint of sound that 
couldnt be put down to the tread of my companions or me. Though the moon provided 
light, it didnt provide enough, and walking down the north face of a hill plunged us into 
a moon shadow so deep I almost lost sight of Leighs ghostly form ahead of me. 
We didnt talk as we marched along. I told myself it was because I wanted to keep 
quiet so the frostclaw wouldnt track us. While I wanted that to be true, I knew it wasnt. 
I was afraid, deeply afraid, and I didnt want the others to know it. I didnt know if they 
were as fearful as I was, but I took their silence as a sign that they each knew how 
dangerous our situation 
was. 
Try as I might, I couldnt hear or see or smell anything of a temeryx, but back then I 
was woefully unprepared to spot the beast. We were moving into the wind, so I had no 
chance of catching the dry, heavy scent of it. We were making enough noise to hide the 
approach of cavalry, much less a creature that is more quiet than falling snow. And, as 
for seeing it, the creature didnt want to be seen until it struck, so unless I could see 
through to the other side of the hills, I had no chance of spotting it. 
We were strung out along a deer path running along the side of a hill when it struck 
from up-slope. Nay started to cry out, which brought me around to the right, looking 
back up the hill. I caught movement in the shadows, but it came so fast I couldnt focus 
on it. The temeryx leaped at Rounce, its clawed hind legs reaching for him. Before I 
could complete my turn, it had carried Rounce off the trail and was chasing his rolling 
form down the hill.

How to describe a temeryx? From tip of its toothy muzzle to tail, the feathered beast 
is ten feet long, standing six at the head. The rear legs are cocked back like those of a 
bird, and the forelimbs are these small, hook-clawed things that arent strong, but useful 
for holding prey. The hind legs are thickly muscled and the interior toe on each has a big 
sickle-shaped claw that slices through flesh and muscle quicker than a sword. The 
narrow head has eyes set forward and a long muzzle 
with rows of sharp teeth. 
The temeryxs black feathers half hid it, but Rounces screams told us where it was. 
The beast leaned forward, ducking 
its head down to snap at and worry Rounces left 
leg, then its head came up and the creature hissed open-mouthed at the sound of Nay 
and me running toward it. Its tongue writhed like a snake and the hiss made my flesh 
crawl, but I was moving too fast to stop. 
Nays club came up and through with a blow that snapped the frostclaws jaw shut. 
His blow tumbled the creature off Rounce and sent it staggering a step or two down the 
hill. It waggled its head and clawed at it with its little forelimbs, then tried to turn toward 
me, but its stiff tail smacked against a tree, freezing it in position. 
I dove at it, sailing above Rounces thrashing body, and hit the frostclaw in the right 
flank with a diving tackle. I got my right arm around its neck and hooked my legs inside 
its thighs and down around its belly. The dagger in my left hand flashed down, stabbing 
a full handspan into the monsters chest. 
The temeryx shrieked and twisted around to the right, trying 
to pitch me off. Its little 
claws caught my right sleeve and shredded fabric as the beast tried to pry my arm free. I 
tightened 
my grip, trying to crush its throat, but its thickly muscled 
neck defied me. 
The temeryx smashed itself into a tree, battering my right leg, but I hung on, stabbing 
and stabbing and stabbing until my left hand, slick with blood, lost its grip on the 
dagger. The weapon spun off into the darkness. 
Though blood gushed from its side with every exertion, the beast still bucked and 
leaped and whirled beneath me. Jolts ran through it as its tail or flanks hit trees. The 
back arched as the frostclaw leaped, then landed stiff-legged to drive its spine up into my 
chest and groin. Each bone-jarring landing would pitch me up a bit, then the temeryx 
would spin, trying to flick me off. I hung on tight, though, thrusting the fingers of my 
left hand into the hole Id opened between its ribs. The ribs crushed down and pinched 
my fingers, but I refused to let go because I knew the second I flew off, it would pounce 
on me and tear me to pieces. 
The month of anticipation before mid-summer had seemed to take a year to pass for 
me, but it was a heartbeat compared to the time I spent on the frostclaws back. My right 
leg came free for a moment, unbalancing me perilously to the left, but the temeryx 
caught its tail on another sapling before it could spin me off. Its foreclaws raked the flesh 
on my forearm, igniting fiery pain, but it couldnt pull my arm away. Finally the temeryx 
stumbled and crashed down on its right side, with both of our spines pointing downhill. 
We began to slide in that direction, so I heaved mightily and rolled the beast over the 
top of me so that when we hit a tree, as I knew we would, Id not be between it and the 
wood. 
I clung on through a final impact. The temeryxs limbs thrashed and its lungs worked 
hard to fill with air. I tightened my knees on its chest and after a couple of labored 
breaths, it stopped fighting. The fingers of my left hand felt a strong heartbeat become 
ragged, then flutter and die. But even with that assurance that the creature was dead, I 
waited for the final jerking of its body. Until Rounces cries overrode the pounding 
of 
my own heart, I refused to believe the monster was truly dead. 
Finally, I pulled my left hand from its side and my left leg from beneath it. I rolled 
onto my back and trembled and wanted to vomit. My jaw quivered and faint wisps of 
steam rose from my blood-slicked hand. I glanced at the dead monster, 
then shoved

myself further from it, coming up on my hands and knees. 
I started the crawl back up the hillside. Leigh and Nay crouched over Rounce, not 
sparing a glance in my direction. Im certain they felt the creature had made off with me 
and that Id never be seen again. As it was, covered in its blood and mine, I looked more 
dead than alive. 
Halfway up the hill I managed to get to my feet again and lurch further upward. Leigh 
nearly jumped out of his skin as I touched his shoulder and left a bloody handprint on 
his jacket. Its dead. 
So are you, by the look of it. He stood quickly and looked me over. You killed it? 
All by yourself, you killed it? 
I had help from Nay. I dropped to my knees and looked at Rounce. Oh, by the 
gods. Rounces not dead, is he? 
Nay, kneeling at Rounces feet, shook his head. Fainted from the pain. 
I nodded. A couple of cuts on his right flank showed where the temeryx had hit him 
in the initial attack, but they looked as superficial as the cuts on my arm. What looked 
the worst was the mangled, bloody mess the thing had made of his left knee. The angle 
of his foot in relation to his hip told me bones had been broken, crushed in the temeryxs 
jaws. Blood oozed up through the wounds and soaked the fabric of his pants. Nay 
finished slicing open that leg of the trousers with Rounces knife, then cut it away above 
the wound. Leigh stared down at the ruined leg. Its my fault. I glanced up at him. 
How so? 
I was leading. I couldnt get back; he got taken. My fault. Leighs eyes narrowed as 
he chewed on a thumbnail. I have to fix it. I have to make it right. 
Want to make it right, Leigh? Nay wiped the knife off on his own tunic. Heres a 
start. Thats Fesyin Bane over there. Hack off a branch. 
Leigh complied with Nays command. Nay took it and began 
to strip off leaves, 
stuffing them in his mouth. He tore away smaller branches and handed them to us. 
Chew the leaves into pulp. Pack his wounds with them. 
We quickly complied, and I noticed the edge on my pain dulling as I did so. I spit a 
mouthful of chewed leaves into Nays hands. He smeared them over the wound and 
started us chewing more. After wed produced enough for a poultice, Nay wrapped the 
leg in the torn trouser material and tied it up tight. He then cast about for two stout 
sticks and tore the sleeves off his own shirt. He used them to fasten the splints around 
Rounces leg, above and below the knee, keeping it stiff. 
I got more metholanth and chewed it up to salve the cuts on my forearm, and 
wrapped it with the tattered remains of my shirts right sleeve. With that task done, I 
looked around for Leigh and found him trudging back up the hill from where the 
temeryx lay. He nodded to me and tossed the things he was carrying on the ground 
before us. 
Hed chopped all four paws off the temeryx and had plucked a half-dozen teeth from 
its jaws. Hed also torn a fair-sized patch off its hide. He stabbed the sword into the 
middle of the pile, then knelt and began to unbutton his jacket. 
This is the plan, gentlemen. He peeled his jacket off and laid it over Rounces chest. 
The two of you will make a stretcher or sled to drag Rounce along. 
Nay frowned. And youll be ... ? 
Leigh heaved himself to his feet. Ill be running to Valsina to get help. He held up a 
hand to forestall protest. Ask Hawkins here whos got the most endurance and can run 
the longest among us. The sword stays with Hawkins, in case theres another of those 
things around. Id take Hawkins dagger 
with me, but its gone. 
I nodded. Sorry. It does make sense to have you go ahead, though. No offense to 
your healing skills, Nay, but Rounce is in serious need of help.

True enough. One thing wrong, though. 
Leigh arched an eyebrow. And that is? 
Nay reversed the boot dagger and offered the hilt to Leigh. Clubs good enough for 
me. Take it. 
Leighs hand closed about the hilt. Thanks. Ill get help, I really will, and fast, too. 
He tossed us both a salute, then stooped and picked up one of the temeryxs hind claws. 
Theyll come even faster if they see this. Keep on east-northeast. 
Ill carve blazes and 
pile rocks at stream fords, so I can backtrack to you. 
Go, Leigh. May the gods speed you on the way. Standing, 
I drew the sword from 
the earth and slid it into the empty scabbard on my belt. Beware the frostclaws. 
Ha, he laughed as he started off. Im a Norrington; its me they should fear. 
I watched him crashing off into the brush until darkness swallowed him and the 
sound of his passing faded. Think well see him again? 
It we dont, if there are more frostclaws about, chances are no one will ever see us 
again either. Nay shrugged. No matter. Worrying about that wont get Rounce to 
town. 
Well said. I gave him a smile and we set about making ourselves a way to get 
Rounce home. 
fe made a drag-sled out of two stout saplings that we hacked down with the sword. 
We ended up butchering the temeryx, pulling off the hide and cutting loose the long 
sinews that ran along the back of its legs and that helped stiffen the tail. We used the 
sinews to lash pine boughs on the sapling poles, then we laid the temeryx skin on it, 
feather side up. We put Rounce on it, using his belt to tie him in place, then made a 
harness out of our belts and the sword belt with which one of us could drag the sled. 
Nay put himself in the traces first and I led the way, following 
Leighs blazes. Leigh 
did pick out a fairly easy course, taking into account the fact that wed be carrying or 
dragging Rounce behind us. The trail wound through the valleys between 
hills, giving 
us plenty of opportunity to see any temer-yces that would be attackingat least, after 
the sun came up. In other places, where trees were spaced enough to let us pass, the 
path took us through the sort of grove that would make twisting and turning tough for 
one of the stiff-tailed beasts. 
I looked back at Nay. Ill take over and drag him whenever 
you want. 
Good to go a bit more. He swiped a hand over his brow, smearing dirt through the 
sweat. Thought you were dead when you took the temeryx. 
So did I, but I didnt really have a choice, did I? 
Always a choice. It had a meal. We could have moved on. 
I spun on my heel. That meal was Rounce and I wasnt going to leave him. And, 
despite what you suggest, you werent going to leave him either. You hit it before I did. 
Funny what fear will make you do. Glad it was you there in line, not Leigh. 
I started on walking again. If Leigh had been there, hed have gone after the 
temeryx. Leigh can be ... annoying, but he doesnt lack for courage. 
Not what was suggested, Hawkins. He grunted as we began a bit of a climb. Hed 
have used the sword against it. Not the right weapon. Gotta be close, like you, with a 
dagger, or away, with a lance. 
Thats pretty insightful. In close the temeryx couldnt bring its formidable weaponry 
to bear. Skewered on a lance or spear, it would be too far from its killer to do any 
damage. At medium range, as Leigh would have been, the creature could have leaped at 
him, and even if he impaled it on his sword, the beast would have raked its claws 
through him. Of course, Id not have had it if youd not addled it with that lick you laid 
on it. 
Did get a fair piece of it. Nay chuckled lightly. Next time mayhap Ill have

something stouter than a piece of dead-wood. 
Youre looking forward to a next time? 
Nope, but no reason to assume there wont be one. 
I pondered that point in silence as we continued on. Nay never let me drag the sled, 
but I did take the back end of it to lift up as we forded streams. The water got no deeper 
than our knees, so keeping Rounce dry wasnt a problem. The water was cold, however, 
so we needed the exertions of the walk to keep us warm. 
By dawn, with the sun flooding bloody light into the eastern 
sky, wed made it about 
three miles toward Valsina. Rounce hadnt awakened and that concerned me, but Nay 
said it was the Fesyin Bane poultices that were keeping him asleep. Given how much 
pain hed be in if he was awake, sleeping was best, but the dawn revealed a greyish 
pallor to his flesh and he was feverish. Nay soaked some moss in a stream, wrapped it in 
a sleeve from Leighs coat, then placed it on Rounces forehead to cool him off. 
We got another couple of miles before the rescuers found us. Some were on 
horseback, but most were on foot, and had come west along the road the wagon had 
used to deliver us into the forest. Leigh had tied his shirt around a tree at the side of the 
logging road where his path cut across it, then had continued cross-country to cut 
distance off his trek. The rescuers 
had brought several wagons with them, which waited 
on the road, to carry the searchers out to us and, presumably, to carry us back. They 
also had brought along a string of spare horses. 
One of Lord Norringtons huntsmen, dressed all in green leathers, found us first. He 
blew a blast on the small brass horn he wore on his right hip, then shucked off a pack 
and drew out a silver flask. He offered it to me, and I sniffed it first before I drank. I 
drank sparingly, but gladly let the brandy burn its way to my belly. 
I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, then gave the flask to Nay. Its brandy. 
Nay tipped the flask back and took a long pull on it, then his eyes bugged out. 
Bringing his head forward he swallowed, then coughed a couple of times and swiped at 
the tears streaming from his eyes. He fixed me with a green glare and whispered 
hoarsely, You meant it was real brandy. 
I did. 
He looked away from me and toward the east as hoofbeats drummed loudly. A 
magnificent black stallion crested the hill, spraying dirt and rusty pine needles about as 
he dug his forehooves into the ground. The bridle and saddle were black leather chased 
with silver, likewise the saddlebow-scabbard and quiver at the horses left shoulder. 
Astride the horses back sat a tall, lean man with a piercing brown gaze. He wore a 
hood of green leather that matched the verdant suede of his personal mask. Ribbons 
adorned the mask and temeryx claws hooked down from above the eyeholes 
as if they 
were eyebrows. His mouth was set in a grim, thin-lipped line and he intently studied the 
two of us, tattered and tired and sweat-soaked. 
I immediately dropped to a knee and bowed my head. I glanced at Nay, then flicked 
my left hand at him, directing him to follow my lead. Nay did, and keeping my head 
down, I waited for the man to address us. 
The saddle leather creaked as the man dismounted. His horse snorted and shook his 
head, jingling the tack. Sticks cracked beneath the mans booted feet, then he stopped 
before me and I felt his gloved hands on my shoulders. Rise, Tarrant Hawkins. Today 
there is no reason for you to be on bended knee before me. 
My Lord Norrington is too kind. I slowly rose, then stepped back and rested my left 
hand on Nays shoulder. This is Naysmith Carver. 
Rise, Naysmith Carver. You have both done great things here. 
I shook my head. No greater than what Leigh . . . Bos-leigh did in summoning help. 
His run

Lord Norrington held a finger up to silence me. I know very well what my son did, 
and of him I am very proud, but the two of you . . . My son tells me that you attacked a 
temeryx armed only with a stick and a dagger. And in the dark, no less. 
Nay shifted his feet nervously. Had it been light, my lord, it might have been 
different. 
I have found, Master Carver, there are few men who brave horrors at night who will 
then run from the same in daylight. He turned and gathered up his horses reins. You 
two will come with me. We have horses for you, or you can ride in the cart, as you will. 
We even have a large horse for you, Master Carver. 
Nay frowned. But Rounce . . . 
Norrington turned and smiled. My people will take care of him. Sandes! 
The huntsman who found us looked up from where he knelt next to Rounce. Yes, my 
lord? 
Convey Master Playfair to the cart. Abandon the sled, but bring the pelt and the other 
bits they took from it. Well need that. 
As you command, my lord. 
Other huntsmen who had been summoned by the horn came running up to where we 
were. Nay shrugged himself out of the harness and came up on my left, placing me 
between himself and Leighs father. I had known Lord Norrington since I was too young 
to clearly remember anything. I knew him as Leighs father and my fathers master, and 
my father was inclined toward strict formality where Lord Norrington was concerned. 
Lord Norrington was a bit more forgiving on that count. While his invitation to walk with 
him didnt surprise 
me, the fact that he did not mount up and treat us as the 
moonmasked youths we were did seem out of the ordinary. Even so, his voice came 
warm and familiar when he spoke to us, as if we were his friends rather than friends of 
his son. 
The pelt you have there, the feathers are sable. Ive heard it said they can be that 
way, but ner have I seen it. He stroked the point of his chin with his left hand. Could 
be its a fledgling, but the pelt is full-sized. Or, perhaps, they molt into a summer 
plumage, then again into their white for winter. 
I nodded my head. I suppose it could be, my lord. 
Norrington threw his head back and laughed. Very good, Hawkins, dont offer an 
opinion if you dont have one. Your father has taught you well. And you, Master Carver? 
Better to be silent and thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt, my lord. 
Listen to me, boys . . . Norrington paused and shook his head, then lowered his 
voice. Here I call you boys when you are clearly men. Forgive me and hear me: what 
you have done here is rare, very rare. I know of perhaps a score of men who have been 
involved in a temeryx killyour father among them, young Hawkins. Ive killed a 
half-dozen myself, most with a bow. I got one with a lance from horsebackI wear its 
claws in this hunting mask. Another I took with a spear, on foot, but I will tell you now I 
only did it because my horse had broken its leg and I was reduced to walking against my 
will. 
He watched us both carefully as the import of his words sank in. There will be men 
who seek to devalue what you have done, to say you are mistaken, or that you have lied. 
Exaggerated, they will call your exploit. These are petty men and ones to stay well away 
from. Otherstrue men like your father, like others in Valsinathey will know your 
hearts from this act. So, no matter what you hear, do not doubt yourselves. A day into 
your Moon Month you have displayed more about yourselves than others could in a 
century. 
Nay cleared his throat with a low rumble. Thank you much for your kindness, Lord 
Norrington, but making too much of this aint right. We did what we had to. No thinking

on it. No knowing how much it might pain us. Now, Leigh, he knew his task. He took it 
on himself to save us. 
Again, I know what my son did. 
How is Leigh? 
You can see for yourselves. Norrington smiled. He pointed off across a small valley 
to the logging road and the trio of wagons that had been brought up. Hes in the first 
wagon. He insisted on bringing us back here. Go on, hell be glad to see you. 
Nay and I took off running, passing a pair of magickers heading off in the other 
direction toward Rounce. We scrambled 
up the hill, then along the road to the rear of 
the wagon. It had a boxy bed with wooden sides two feet high and a canvas covering 
over a wooden framework that rose six feet above the bed. Reaching the endboard, we 
pulled back the flaps and found Leigh. 
He was seated on a half-dozen pillows that propped him up in a sitting position. He 
looked tired and had a red welt on his right cheek where it looked as if a thorny bush 
had raked his face. Similar welts crisscrossed his hands and his shins, which had long 
since been stripped of stockings. His feet had been swathed in white cloth, some of 
which had pink patches showingmostly on the heel and along the sole. 
He smiled at us. When I heard the horn, one blast, I knew theyd found you. And this 
close to the road, I knew you had to be alive. Rounce? 
Alive as well. Your fathers people are bringing him in. Magickers were going to him 
as we came along. 
Good. I told them what youd done with the metholanth and they said that was 
probably as good as you could have done, given the circumstances. Leigh shrugged. 
They dabbed some tincture of it on my feet, too. 
Nay smiled. Told you them shoes werent right. 
Oh, and the shoes quite agreed with you, Nay. They came apart a mile or so east of 
here. He barked a quick laugh. I paid for them with moongold, so I suppose I cannot 
complain. 
Perhaps a temeryx will snap them up and choke on them. 
I laughed aloud. I dont think thats very likely, do you? Theyll long since have 
decayed before another frostclaw is found in these parts. 
Leigh shook his head. My father didnt tell you? 
Tell us what? I looked at Nay and he stared blankly back at me. What was he 
supposed to tell us? 
My good fellows, you dont imagine my father brought all these huntsmen out just to 
find you, do you? He waggled a finger at us. No, no, no! It seems that frostclaws hunt 
in packs. Where you find one, you find at least three more. No, my friends, were here 
with the huntsmen to find the other frostclaws and kill them. The fun we had last night, 
it was just the prelude, and we are in this little opera until the very last note is sung. 
[Tj he hunters returned to the wagons along with Rounce. One I of the magickers got 
into the wagon where they placed 1 Rounce, then it was turned and sent back to Valsina 
with four outriders. The rest of us piled into the other two wag-with Nay and me riding 
with Leigh. We all set off along on the road to the point where wed been dropped off. 
I got a little sleep during that run, then woke up when the wagons stopped at our 
drop-off point. Two other wagons and more riders had been sent ahead and were 
waiting for us. Nay and I left our wagon and accompanied the others to the site of the 
first kill. Of the watcher who had died on the hilltop we could find only his tattered cloak. 
The huntsmen located a couple of other bare patches of earth that yielded temeryx 
prints, including one with only two claws, indicating an animal 
that had been injured. 
Sandes looked up from that particular track and nodded. There certainly was more 
than one. The others tracked the first beast here to its kill and took the food away. 
Lord Norrington stroked his chin. Can you tell how many?

At least two is my guess, possibly twice that number. 
I didnt like the sound of that, but said nothing since the hunters muttered musings 
sounded dour and grim. Nay and I then led them to the site of the second attack and our 
kill. We found its body where wed left it, though something had been worrying it. 
Sandes asked if Lord Norrington wanted him to further butcher the animal for food, but 
Leighs father demurred. 
Weve provisions enough, and I dont want too much confusion when we seek out 
the rest of the pack. Later we will have more and fresher meat. 
We all hiked back to the wagons and discovered that some of the hunters had crossed 
the road to the side away from the ravine and, in a fairly level spot, had set up camp. 
They had three fires burning and had pitched several tents, including a fairly large one 
with a central pavilion and a couple of smaller tents coming off it like spokes from a hub. 
As we came into the clearing, Leigh emerged from the large tent, walking rather 
gingerly, but smiling nonetheless. 
In our absence he had changed from the tattered clothes hed worn previously to a set 
of green hunting leathers. The stark white of his moonmask contrasted sharply with the 
deep green of the leathers. He wore a sword and dagger on a belt around his waist, and 
his feet had been clad in soft leather boots that laced up the front and had a fringe 
around the top. A folded pair of gloves hung from his belt. 
Welcome back to our home away from home. He waved a hand at the large tent. 
Youve each been given one of the wings hereHawkins to the right, Nay to the left. 
There is a change of clothes for each of you. 
Nay covered a yawn with the back of his left hand. Night-clothes would suit right 
now. 
Lord Norrington came up from behind and clapped both of us on the shoulders. Yes, 
please, get some more rest. Three hours until noon, then we will be hunting. 
I had to pass through the main tent to reach my little tent, and I could not help but be 
impressed with what I saw. A series of carpets had been overlapped to form the floor. 
Many had intricate designs on themthe sort of thing that came from Naliserro or 
Savarreand the rest were plain. All were well worn. A long dining table complete with 
twelve chairs had been set up, but I noticed that all of them could be taken apart and 
broken down for easy storage and transport. An easel dominated one corner, and on it 
had been placed a board to which had been tacked a map of the area, with small pins 
stuck into it at the sites of the kills. 
The rather stark nature of the furnishings both did and did not surprise me. I knew, 
from having been at Norrington Manor, that Lord Norrington could afford the finest 
furnishings 
from anywhere in the world, so the simplicity and pure utility of these pieces 
suggested a tightfistedness on his part that I knew wasnt true. By the same token, in the 
field, these furnishings were exactly what he needed. While he was a man who could 
enjoy the finer things of life, he let various situations 
dictate what he demanded. 
My little tent was very simply appointed, with a carpet rolled over the ground and 
three thick blankets folded on top of a small chest that I assumed held my new clothes. I 
pulled off my party costume and wrapped myself in one of the blankets. 
I used the 
other two to form a pillow, and despite it being mid-morning, I dropped immediately 
into a dreamless sleep. 
The sun hung straight overhead by the time I emerged from the tent. My new hunting 
leathers fit me better than Nays fit him. His were tight across the shoulders and through 
the arms, but he shrugged off the problem. We both grabbed a small loaf of bread, a 
hunk of cheese, and an apple from the provisions table in the clearing, then joined the 
rest of the hunters. We all seated ourselves in a semicircle facing Lord Norrington and a 
wizened, stoop-shouldered old man with long white hair and enough knotted

mage-braid hanging from his mask to let us know he was a magicker of considerable 
power. 
Lord Norrington waited until a few stragglers sat down, then addressed us. We are 
here to hunt for frostclaws. We want to find them this afternoon, because while the sun 
is up we will have an advantage. In their native northern range, during the winter, there 
is very little sunlight available, so they have big eyes to gather in the light. Here and now 
the sunlight will be a bit more than they can bear, so we will be hunting for their lairs. 
He reached down and lifted the skin from the temeryx wed killed. Frostclaws hunt in 
a pack, and packs are believed to be formed from a single clutch. All the frostclaws in a 
pack will be related to each other, and this will make finding them easier. Archmage 
Heslin will explain. 
The old man shuffled forward and plucked a feather from the skin. Blood knows 
blood. If you can see in the aether-realm, you can see the way the lines are mixed. He 
squinted at us, enlarging one brown eye as he closed the other. You and you, youre 
cousins, and you and you are brothers, eh? 
The huntsmen he pointed to with a crooked finger gasped in astonishment. 
The old man cackled gleefully. The temeryx feather here is linked to those of its 
bloodkin, and I will be fixing feathers to show you the way to go after them. 
One huntsman raised his hand. Will you be enchanting our weapons to kill them? 
If such a spell existed, why would I need any of you here? His riposte brought a 
ripple of laughter. Heslin waited for it to subside before he continued. They wont be 
easy to kill, but not hard for you, either. Finding them will be difficult, 
but Ill see to 
that. Get yourselves fed and outfitted, then youll have your feather and go. 
Norrington held a hand up and circled it. Break into your groups, get yourselves 
armed, and then we move out. You have a quarter hour. 
Two lesser mages joined Heslin and started to pluck feathers 
from the edges of the 
skin wed harvested. Sandes walked over to the trio of us and pointed toward the largest 
of the wagons on the road. You three will be with my group. Lets get you armed. 
The large wagon proved to be a wheeled armory with multiple 
racks of weapons and 
tack. Bearing in mind the conversation 
Nay and I had had concerning how to fight 
frostclaws, I asked for a long dagger, which I sheathed at the small of my back. On my 
right hip I put a quiver of thirty arrows, each one featuring a razor-edge broadhead, 
black shaft, and red feathers. 
To shoot the arrows I took a horsebow. The compact 
recurve weapon had a short but stiff draw that would put an arrow through a man 
armored in mail at a hundred yards or so. 
Sandes looked at me curiously. No sword? 
I shook my head. If I have to run, I dont want it tripping me up. Besides, Nay 
pointed out that a sword against one of those things would be suicidal, so Ill do 
without. 
Leigh laughed at my comments, but did shift his sword belt up so it looped over a 
shoulder and across his chest. He fixed the scabbard to it so the blades hilt projected 
above his right shoulder. He drew the double-edged broadsword without 
trouble. To 
the sword he added a light crossbow that had a goats-pawa levering device that would 
let him cock it quickly. A quiver of bolts went on his right hip and a dagger was sheathed 
on his left. 
Nay stayed away from bows and instead drew a boar spear from the stock of 
weapons. Eight feet long from butt to tip, the weapon featured a broad, dagger-bladed 
head and a wide crossguard that would prevent a creature from sliding down the spear 
to get at the man carrying it. The stout oak shaft promised the weapon wouldnt break 
beneath the weight of a charge. And the point on the butt-cap would let Nay plant the 
weapon in the ground as he crouched to take a charge, letting the earth accept the brunt

of the force. He augmented the spear with a hatchet and a dagger. 
Once armed, we moved to where Heslin and his associates worked. I wondered 
exactly what they were going to be able to do for us, since we all knew that human 
magickers rarely lived long enough to master spells that could directly affect living 
creatures. While stories of mages casting spells that exploded fireballs to kill various 
brigands or Aurolani creatures did abound, combat spells appeared to be an exception to 
this general rule. More complex and delicate magicks, such as those that could heal 
disease or cure a wound, required control 
that most humans never attained. 
But, as we discovered, the spells that would help us did not so much affect the 
temeryces as much as were affected by them. 
At the mages direction, Nay presented his spear first. An apprentice used flax thread 
to dangle one of the temeryx feathers from the crossguard. Heslin then raised his left 
hand and circled his thumb and forefinger around the feather. He began mumbling 
under his breath and slowly swept his hand down over the feather. 
A light golden glow seemed to spread from his palm and infuse the midnight feather 
with golden highlights. As his hand came past the end of the feather, the golden glow 
faded and the highlights sank into the feather as water sinks into sand. Then, all of a 
sudden, the feather twisted and bounced as if being buffeted by a light breeze, even 
though the air remained completely still. 
Heslin nodded, then pointed in the direction the feather wanted to drift. The 
frostclaws will be off that way. Follow the feather. As you get closer, it will get more 
active. When it palsy-twitches, set yourselves. 
He enchanted feathers for the rest of us as well, repeating his instructions. He 
fastened mine to the upper end of my bow and Leighs to the hilt of his sword. Sandes 
and two other of the half-dozen hunters accompanying us carried spears like Nay; the 
rest had bows like mine. 
The whole company had broken down into three groups. Two of themone led by 
Norrington, the other led by one of his deputiesmounted up on horses and headed out 
in both directions on the logging road. As per the plan, they would vector in on the 
temeryx lair, coming at it from two sides. The third groupnine of us on footwas to 
head straight at it from the camp, ostensibly to catch any creatures that broke for 
freedom in our direction. 
As he set off, I looked at Sandes. You dont mind that you are nurse-maiding us and 
wont get a chance at a frostclaw kill? 
The round-faced man smiled. Lord Norrington honors me by entrusting you to my 
care. 
Thats not really an answer. 
Leigh slapped Sandes on the right shoulder. Leave him be, Hawkins. The man has 
been my fathers chief hunter for two years now, and he will marry a month from now, 
wont you, Sandes? 
I will, my lord. 
So, being allowed to herd us youngsters and keep us out of trouble is practice for the 
coming years. Besides, if we see no frostclaws, Im certain Sandes can find us something 
else to hunt. Well bring back a buck or two for the victory celebration. 
I frowned. How will we know when the hunt is over? 
Leigh pointed at the feather on my bow. When the temer-yces are dead, the feathers 
will stop moving. 
Wont be soon enough. Nay pointed his spear along the feather-path. Goodman 
Sandes, might be safer if we keep to the nursery groves. Cuts down their turning. 
Sandes nodded in agreement, so we shifted our course to move from protective 
stands of trees to other positions that were defensible. This slowed our progress, but I

didnt mind. I moved ahead with Sandes, watching as he picked out our course. He kept 
our exposure to attack minimal, and as a tactical exercise, I learned a lot from him. 
It was an exercise that saved our lives. 
For reasons we had no way to anticipate, the temeryces did not stay laired through 
the afternoon. We received the first inkling of this when our gently drifting feathers 
began to dance a bit more heartily. Sandes called an immediate halt, with him and me 
on the top of one hillock, the other five huntsmen in a grove on another, and Nay and 
Leigh caught fording a small stream that split one hillock from another. 
Even though our forward progress had stopped, the feathers 
jerking increased. 
Theyre coming at us! Sandes waved to Leigh and Nay. Move it, get up here. 
I stepped up to the fallen log that lay across the northwestern 
edge of our hilltop. In 
the distance I caught little flashes of movement, and I knew it was more than the feather 
tugging at my bow. I see something coming in. Fast. I fitted an arrow to my bow and 
drew it back. 
The first temeryx came into view as it splashed across the stream about twenty-five 
yards down from Nay. I let fly and missed its breast, but did stick it in the left thigh. The 
creature shrieked and slipped off a rock, to splash down in the water. It scrambled to its 
feet again, leaping up and away as Leighs quarrel struck sparks from a rock in front of 
it. 
Two more temeryces burst into the open as the first started charging up the 
streambed. The huntsmen on the other hill shot at them, with a trio of arrows catching 
one frostclaw in the right flank. It flopped down and thrashed, its feet clawing mud and 
stone from the bank. The third temeryx leaped over its dying companion and sped 
forward. 
I drew another arrow back and tried to track the running frostclaws, but trees gave 
me only fleeting glimpses of them. I glanced back at the clearing where Id gotten my 
first shot to see if there were more, but I saw no others. Another target did present 
itself, and I let fly with only a seconds hesitation, even though I could not identify the 
creature at which I shot. I just figured that anything running with the frostclaws instead 
of from them had to be bad. 
My arrow took the child-sized creature high in the chest, lancing down from right 
shoulder toward its left hip. The broadhead pierced its brown, downy pelt. The creature 
opened its mouth in a scream, spraying out blood where there should have been sound. 
It spun around, then crashed down between two rocks. 
Shrieking furiously, the first frostclaw leaped at Nay. The scream was enough to 
curdle my blood, but Nay calmly dropped to one knee and set the butt of his spear in the 
streambed. He hauled back, directing the spear-point into the frostclaws narrow belly. 
The beast slammed down on the crossguard and the butt slipped. Rear talons clawed 
forward, barely missing Nays shoulders and head. Wrenching the spear hard to the left, 
Nay smashed the temeryx into large rocks at the streams edge and ended up sprawled 
facedown in the stream for his effort. 
The other frostclaw came on hard. One of the huntsmen put an arrow into its tail. 
Leigh hit it with a quarrel in the left shoulder, ruining that foreclaw and knocking the 
beast against the streams far shore. Two more arrows whistled past it, but the creatures 
crouch kept it too low for the archers to hit. The frostclaw hissed horribly, opening its 
mouth to display its fearsome 
teeth. 
Then it gathered itself and sprinted at Nay. 
Nay rolled onto his back, reaching for his hatchet, and yelped in horror at the monster 
streaking at him. I had no shot neither did the archers on the other sideand Sandes, 
though sprinting down the hill toward the stream, would never get there in time to save 
him.

His sword flashing silver and gold in the dappled sunlight, Leigh leaped over Nays 
form and splashed down in the stream between him and the temeryx. Leigh bellowed 
loudly at the frostclaw and waved his sword back and forth. Hunched forward, 
he 
darted at the beast, extending his sword forward, set to impale it. 
The frostclaw drew up short, rearing back and thumping its tail into the ground. Leigh 
skidded to a halt in the streambed, dropping to his left knee and hand while still 
keeping 
his sword extended in his right. The temeryx dipped its head forward and 
snapped at the blade. Leigh slashed once quickly at it, but missed the throat as the 
creature pulled back. The temeryx snapped at him again. Leigh cracked it across the 
snout with flat of the blade, then stood and slowly started to retreat. 
Blinking its large amber eyes, the temeryx watched him go. 
Nostrils flared as it drank in his scent, and it took a tentative step in his direction, then 
another. Leigh quickened the pace of his retreat. The temeryx started to trot toward him. 
Leigh caught his heel on a stone and toppled backward. He never lost his grip on the 
sword, but his attempt to regain his balance left him flailing his arms. He landed flat on 
his back, his arms and legs spread, his belly open and unprotected. The temeryx saw 
this, shrieked, and leaped for him. 
The huntsmen on the far side of the creek crossed three arrows through the beasts 
chest, but its legs still arched toward Leigh. The big sickle-shaped claws on the interior 
toes remained cocked. As it descended, dying though it may have been, the temeryx 
reached a foot toward Leigh. When it touched him, it would rake through clothes and 
flesh and muscle, opening his viscera to the air. 
But the temeryx never hit Leigh. 
Sandes, sprinting full out, dove forward and drove his spear into the frostclaws belly. 
With all of his weight behind the lunge, Sandes deflected the temeryx, boosting it a bit 
higher and then dropping it on the far bank of the stream. Sandes released the spear, 
letting the shaft whip water into a froth with the creatures death throes, and turned 
immediately to haul Leigh away and to safety. 
I scanned the forest for more movement, but saw nothing. More importantly, the 
temeryx feather tied to my bow had stopped moving. Keeping an arrow nocked in the 
bow just in case, I retraced my footsteps to the streambed, half-sliding down the hill in 
my haste. Leigh pulled himself up onto a rock and let water drip off him, then shook his 
head and sprayed me and Nay with water from his hair. 
I arched an eyebrow at him. That was the most brave or most stupid thing I have 
ever seen. 
Really? Leighs chin came up. All I know is that it took you all long enough to do 
your parts. 
What are you talking about? 
Why, my dear Tarrant, Im talking about shooting the thing. He pointed at the dead 
temeryx. You didnt think I meant to try and kill the thing with my sword, did you? No, 
I only wanted to distract it from Nay long enough for you to shoot it. 
I narrowed my eyes. I see. But, if you had managed to kill it with your sword, you 
never would have told us it was unintentional, 
would you? 
A sly smile grew on Leighs face, but he turned toward Nay instead of answering me. 
You are unhurt? 
Nay nodded slowly. Dont know how to thank you. That creature, never been so 
close to death. 
Leigh dismissed Nays concern with a casual wave of his hand. Think nothing of it, 
Naysmith. As Hawkins will confirm, 
I often act the ass, though I seldom realize it and 
less seldom admit it, even to myself. Despite how we met, you have shown you are a 
good man. It is my obligation as a Nor-rington to protect good men like you. A smile

grew on Leighs face. And it is my pleasure to protect the life of a man I consider a 
friend. 
Nays brow furrowed as he considered Leighs words, then he nodded once, solidly. 
A Norrington for a friend. More than anyone would expect from a Moon Month. 
Oh, and youll have more. Youll be featured in a poem Ill compose, I think. You, 
too, Hawkins. Leigh pressed his hands together. I will call it, How to Vex a Temeryx. 
Good, no? 
I cant wait. I shook my head and splashed my way over to Sandes. I shot 
something else, further downstream. I dont know what it was, but I know it wasnt 
right. 
Lets go. 
The two of us trudged down to where the creature bobbed in a shallow pool. The 
thing measured no more than four feet from crown to toes, but was more heavily 
muscled than a child of equivalent size. It had large eyes that were all black, a little bit of 
a muzzle with its nose a black triangle at the top, very much like a dog. Parts of its face, 
its palms, and feet were bare of fur, revealing flesh the color of a blood blister. It had 
sharp peg-teeth, with the lower canines being longer than the upper, and the hands were 
very human, though they lacked the littlest finger. The creature had big bat ears which 
folded back into the fur on the sides of its head. 
It could easily have been described as a little boy in a baby bear costume, though it 
ran more to lean muscle than fat. What defied that description was the fact that it wore a 
beaded armband from which hung a half-dozen black temeryx feathers. 
Around its 
waist it also had a slender belt from which hung two pouches that contained herbs, 
rocks, and unidentifiable 
animal flesh in neat little packets. 
Sandes dragged the thing to the shore, then squatted by its head. I dont know as 
how Ive ever seen one of these before, and certainly not with dark fur like this. He 
reached a hand down and parted the fur on its shoulder, then nodded. White at the 
roots. 
Meaning? 
Meaning the creature colored its fur to be able to move through the forests more 
easily. He wiped his hand off on the leg of his trousers. I think youve shot yourself a 
vylaen. 
A shiver shook me. But they live in Aurolan, past the Black Marches and everything, 
way up north. 
So do frostclaws. Theyre both Chytrines pets, damn her black soul. Sandes raised 
his huntsmans horn to his lips and blew three quick blasts on it. He waited a moment, 
then blew three more. After a moment or two, the pattern of three and three came back 
at him from two different places in the forest. 
Sandes toed the vylaens body. Lord Norrington will know what to do. 
Lord Norrington and his party came riding in from along the temeryx backtrail. A 
couple of the horses had cuts on them, and at least one man had his shoulder bandaged 
after having been hit by an arrow. Strapped across the backs of a couple of horses being 
led by their former riders was one temeryx and three other bodies which I did not get a 
good look at initially. 
Lord Norrington rode over to where Sandes and I stood. He dismounted, passing his 
stallions reins to Sandes, then he dropped to a knee beside the vylaen. Leighs father 
made a tiny clicking sound with his mouth as he thought, then stood abruptly and 
looked at me. Thats your arrow, Hawkins? 
Yes, my lord. I turned and pointed back up at the hill-ock. I was up there when it 
came through. I had no shot at the temeryces and I guessed that any creature running 
with them instead of from them just wasnt right.

Very nice shot, Hawkins. And youre correct about this vylaen being out of place and 
allied with the frostclaws. Ill want Heslin to check, but I think the armlet there with the 
feathers linked the vylaen to them. Vylaens also have a very high-pitched voicedogs 
can hear them, and frostclaws I suspect
so it may have been giving them orders 
including plans for attack on your position here. He clapped me on the shoulders. 
Shooting it probably saved you all. 
Speaking of saved, I said as I pointed upstream toward Leigh, your son saved Nay 
from certain death. 
Lord Norrington cocked his head to the right. Did he? Well, that will make for a good 
story tonight, I think, and one that will likely grow as time goes on. 
He turned to Sandes. How many did you get? 
Three temeryces, my lord. Archers took one clean, Master Carver took one on a 
spear, and your son held the third long enough for the archers to get arrows into it and 
me to stick it with a spear. Sandes nodded his head toward the riders who had followed 
Lord Norrington in. I see you got one. 
We did, yes, Jempson, with a spearfrom horseback. The others are three 
gibberkin. Lord Norrington read the blank look on my face. Theyre akin to the vylaens, 
but bigger, more bestial, with mottled fur, bigger teeth and muzzles. Elves call them 
ominirs, but the man-name comes from their constant 
gibbering and howling. These 
ones, it appears, were altered 
enough that they could only manage a bass whisper. One 
of them got an arrow into Swinbrook, but hell survive. 
Yes, my lord. Sandes patted the stallions neck. What do you want me to do with 
the vylaen and the frostclaws? 
Have your men dress them all out, including the gibberkin. 
Save the teeth, hands, 
and feetwell need them. Burn the vylaen and gibberkin bodies. Well roast the 
frostclaws. 
I blinked. Were really going to eat them? 
Become a warrior like your father and youll eat much worse in the field. Frostclaws 
actually taste fairly good, wouldnt you say, Sandes? 
I fix it the same way I would a hen, my lord. Sandes pulled a coil of rope from the 
stallions saddle and tossed it to me. Truss up his feet and well drag him back to camp. 
Do a good job and Ill see to it that you get a slice of the frostclaw liver fried up with 
some of the wild onions here. Itll be a meal you wont forget. 
Sandes was correct. The meal that night was one Id never forget, but not just 
because of the liver and onions. While the food did taste good, the company made it 
better. We all regrouped 
at the campsite and everyone set about their various tasks, 
from fetching firewood to slaughtering the creatures and dressing various wounds on 
hunters and horses alike. 
The third hunting group had brought in two more gib-berkin and another temeryx, 
which accounted for six of the beasts. That matched the number of feathers on the 
vylaens armband, so I took that as a hopeful sign that wed gotten all of them. I would 
have been more pleased if a full half-dozen gibberers had been brought in as well, but 
we had no evidence to suggest how many of them had been in the group to begin with. 
Someone even suggested that the sixth gibberer might have been fed to the frostclaws at 
some point to keep the others in line. 
Heslin did confirm lingering traces of magick on the armband 
and suggested a simple 
solution for why the temeryces were out in the afternoon. As the two mounted hunting 
parties 
closed on their lair, the armlet might have allowed the vylaen to detect the magic 
being used to locate the temeryces. Given the local terrain, the easiest direction for them 
to head out was toward us, and we were undetected at first because wed not moved 
close enough to the vylaen.

If he had worked other magick to order the frostclaws about, he might not have 
detected you at all until much too late. The mage pressed his lips together in a thin line. 
This was not a casual hunting party. This was something more. 
More to be discussed later, I think, Heslin. Lord Nor-rington cut off that line of 
discussion rather quickly. Perhaps back in Valsina you will be able to learn more about 
the vylaens 
magick. 
That the vylaen had left two temeryces and a handful of gibberkin to hold off the 
mounted hunters while escaping in our direction underscored the fact that no one had 
expected our little group to be in any danger that day. Wed been along on the hunt 
because, after all wed been through, they couldnt very well not bring us. Because of 
that, what we accomplished earned the respect of the assembled men. 
Leigh and I had been out on hunts before and had been grouped around a campfire 
with huntsmen just as we were that night. Because we had been children in their eyes, 
wearing courtesy masks marked with our families crests, they had spun great tales for 
us. They told us of feather-trout, fish that lurk in trees and have to be shot with a bow 
and arrow, and stag-hares, which have a set of antlers and are so fierce they fight off 
wolves and bears. They would listen to our stories of shooting a deer or catching a fish 
as solemnly as if it were the first time theyd heard of such a thing, then dissolve into 
laughter. 
After the temeryx hunt, we were no longer seen as children. 
We had been with them 
when they faced some of the nastiest creatures in the worldand creatures that hadnt 
been seen so far south in over a century. Sandes praised my prowess with a bow and 
other huntsmen said theyd never seen as much strength as Nay had shown in spearing 
his temeryx and dropping it to the side. What little chiding there was came 
good-naturedly, and was in line with the ribbing the other huntsmen, including Sandes, 
got for what they had done that day. 
By far, though, Leigh earned the majority of the accolades handed out around the 
blazing bonfire that night. Every one of us who had been there shared our version of 
what he did. We had all been amazed as he put himself in the path of certain death. His 
bellowing back at the temeryx had heartened 
us all, and his pressing an attack surprised 
us, but also brought smiles to our faces. When he retreated, well, each of us knew we 
had to find a way to help him, to preserve the man who had displayed such faultless 
courage. 
Leigh drank it all in and, just for a moment, appeared embarrassed by what was said. 
I think perhaps that, for the first time in his life, people were seeing him as Leigh, not 
Lord Norringtons son. That night, by what he had done, he had emerged ever so 
slightly from his fathers shadow. I dont think hed particularly chafed to be there before, 
but dwelling in a shadow can be rather chilly. Coming out into the light on his own had 
to feel good. 
At the end of our storytelling, Leigh himself got up and regaled us with what he had 
been thinking during the attack. Well, there I was, wasnt I? The damnable beast had 
just shrugged off the bolt I put into him and somehow overlooked that grievous wound 
from the arrow in his tail. He looked at Nay just lying there and must have thought he 
was seeing the biggest green trout ever to swim. Having had a long run, he was hungry 
and went for Nay, but I couldnt have that, could I? 
So, leap forward I did, waving my sword about, trying to tell it that Nay wasnt a 
trout at all, which I thought obvious because he had more arms and legs than a trout. 
Well, the beastie hissed at me, Yes he is! I bellowed back, No hes not. Oh, didnt know 
I spoke temeryx, did you? Well, it wasnt until Id advanced to drive my point home and 
it hissed at me again that I realized I didnt speak temeryx eitheror not his dialect 
anyway. So I backed up and quickly threw myself on my back in hopes of splashing up a

trout the beastie could eat, and you fine fellows skewered him four ways to Mansday, 
didnt you? 
Leigh accompanied his recital by dancing backward and forward. A short stick with a 
burning ember glowing red served as his sword and wove the point through a hypnotic 
series of nonsense sigils. We all laughed at the right places, and he played to our 
amusement. He even got a laugh or two from his father. He bowed at the end, and 
consigned his wooden sword to the fire before returning to his fathers side. 
Lord Norrington stood and ruffled his sons blond hair. Gentlemen, it was a good day 
had by all. Finding these creatures 
here is an ill omen, no doubt about it, but a worse 
one would have been our having missed them altogether. I dont know what the future 
will bring because of these discoveries, but today you were all heroic and your deeds will 
not be soon forgotten. 
During our return to Valsina I began to realize just how out of the ordinary what we 
had done really was. While with the hunting party we were all just part of a whole. The 
hunt had been our world and wed all shared the same experience, 
so it didnt seem that 
special. Our return to town brought us back in contact with people who did not have our 
perspective on the event. 
Rounces return to the city had started the rumors of temeryces roaming the 
countryside, so farmers and herders seeing us pass came over to ask how the hunt had 
done. Lord Norrington remained stoic and polite, telling them he was well satisfied with 
how the situation had been handled. Nothing at all to worry about now. 
At Valsinas outskirts, people began to fill the edges of the streets to see us pass. 
There really was not that much to see, just a stately progression of huntsmen on 
horseback and several 
wagons. All of the skins and other relics had been packed away 
in one of the wagons, so no one got to ooh and ahh over grisly trophies. Even our 
injured men rode along without any visible bandages, so it appeared as if wed gone out 
and dealt with our task with very little in the way of difficulty. 
As we moved near Old Town, Lord Norrington sent Leigh, Nay, and me off to see our 
parents and let them know we had survived. The three of us had already agreed to go to 
Kedyns temple to offer thanks for our success, but Lord Norrington said that could wait 
until later. From the temple we planned to visit Rounce, but Lord Norrington noted that 
waiting until the evening or even tomorrow to visit him would be better, since he had 
been gravely injured and likely would take a long while to recover. 
I smiled and patted my horse on the neck. I will go see my father, then, and return 
this horse to your manor before we go to the temple. 
Lord Norrington shook his head. The horse is yours, young Hawkins, and the tack as 
well. That goes for you, too, Master Carver. That first night your quick action saved 
Master Playfair, yourselves and, most dear to me, my son. This is the least I can do to 
show my gratitude to you. 
Nays jaw dropped open. My lord is too kind. 
Leigh scowled. Ha! Saving me is only worth a horse and saddle? 
Norrington glanced at his son. I said it was the least I could do, Bosleigh; I did not 
say it was all I would dobut else is a matter for another time. Farewell to you both. 
Until I have the pleasure again. 
I nodded to him in a salute, then reined my horse around and rode toward my 
familys house. I stopped at the closest stable and arranged a months stabling for the 
glint of moon-gold, then rushed off. A group of younger boys, one of whom had seen 
me earlier, crowded around the front door, but I shooed them off. They retreated 
reluctantly, with a larger one disdainfully dismissing the stories about my having killed a 
rabid drearbeast as obvious fantasy. 
I knocked, then entered through the door and mask-curtain 
beyond. I caught my

mother in a big hug as she came toward me from the kitchen. She clung to me fiercely, 
her silent sobs sending tremors through her body. I felt the dampness 
of her tears on 
my neck, so I kissed her ear and held her tightly. Eventually her grip on me slackened 
and she pulled back, brushing away tears with her thumbs, then wiping her hands on 
her apron. 
Are you hungry, Tarrant? She turned from me and pointed toward the hearth. I 
have beans bubbling and some bread baking. I didnt know when you would be back. 
Your brothers are on alert and your father is at the Lord Mayors Hall planning what to 
do if the Northern Horde gets this far. 
Im fine, Mother. Just a few bruises, a few scrapes. 
She crossed to the black, cast-iron pot hanging in the hearth. She swung it out, lifted 
the lid with her apron guarding 
her hand, and stirred the fragrant brown thickness of 
beans. I know that, Tarrant, but after what was said about your friend Rounce . . . Well, 
a mother worries. 
She turned back toward me, pot lid like a shield in one hand, glistening wooden 
spoon a sword in the other. I will always be your mother and I will always worry. Know 
that. Know it is because I love you. 
I nodded. I know. I drew up a chair back from the table and sat. How is Rounce? 
One of the Baker girls took some bread to the family and said that Rounce is going to 
live. He wont lose his leg because of some quick thinking out there. 
Nay worked up a poultice. 
Nay? 
Naysmith Carver. I met him at the gala. He was an armorers 
apprentice, but he 
wants to be a warrior. I suspect now hell get his chance. I smiled as my mother set a 
steaming 
bowl of beans in front of me. Thanks, but I can wait for my father. 
I dont know when he will be back, so eat now. A smile softened my mothers 
expression. Your father told me, when we got word about what had happened, that 
hed expect you to be able to handle yourself. He said you would be fine. I didnt doubt 
him, but . . . 
She hesitated, lost in remembrance of what she had feared, then she sniffed once, 
more angry than sad. No matter, youll eat now . . . 
Well, I am hungry. Camp food is fine, but . . . 
Thats right, Tarrant Hawkins. All this warring and fight-ing and killing and the 
romance of it might fill your mind, but surviving means you need more, which includes 
substantial things in your life. Like beans in your belly. 
And a mother who cares enough to see to it I get them? 
Very good, Tarrant, very good. She nodded carefully, then stirred the beans again. 
Perhaps your father was not far wrong at all. 
Leigh, Nay, and I all met at the temple at sundown. I had with me a covered crock of 
beans that my mother insisted I take to Rounces family. One of Kedyns acolytes 
guarded it for me as the three of us bought charcoal and incensepaying good coin for 
it this timeand descended to offer our thanks to Kedyn for our success. 
I knelt there solemnly, my shield arm across my chest and my sword arm pointing 
toward the ground. I began a standard prayer of thanks, but an idle draft wafted smoke 
into my face and I breathed deeply of it. I remember coughing, but felt a distance 
between myself and my body. I found myself drifting back over the events of our 
adventure, reliving the pains and fears, the exertion and exhilaration of the hunt and the 
kill. I recalled everything with incredible detail, remembering things I didnt know Id 
seen or heard. My fingers twitched as I felt the temeryxs heart stop beating, and then 
my mind snapped back into the present. 
I glanced up and followed the incense ribbon from my charcoal shield as it rose and

washed over Kedyns face. The smoky trail twisted and writhed, seeming to carry to him 
all I had experienced. I didnt expect a sign that Kedyn noticed me or cared about me, 
and I got none. The gods seldom meddled in the affairs of men, preferring to leave that 
sort of activity to the godlings and weirunspirits of place that inhabit the world. Even 
so, I took my recollections as a sign that my prayer for Control might well have been 
answered. 
I stood, bowed, and made my way back up to the main temple level. There I found 
Nay and Leigh speaking with a cadaverously slender priest. Kedyns priest wore a black 
robe of rough-spun wool; he had shaved his head, but wore a mustache 
and goatee as 
dark as his robe. He held my pot of beans under one arm and, with the other hand, 
beckoned me close. 
He kept his voice low. Forgive the intrusion, Master Hawkins, 
but I have been asked 
to conduct you from here. As I have explained to the others, your celebrity has preceded 
you. You were seen coming in here and, even now, an anxious crowd has gathered 
outside to question you about the events of the last two days. If you will follow me? 
The priest turned and Leigh immediately set off after him. Nay and I exchanged 
glances, shrugged, then joined the procession. 
The priest led us off through an arched 
doorway and down stairs that took us below street level. They ended in a corridor that 
stretched out to the right and left, though the priest cut back beside the stairs and under 
them to a hidden corridor. What I had assumed to be solid block steps were, in fact, 
stone slabs that had been cantilevered into the wall, providing 
the open space. I 
plunged into the darkness with the others. 
A bit further down the corridor, which was only lit by the dim glow of fungi on the 
ceiling, I saw the priests silhouette. He pointed further along. There is a circular 
stairway that leads down and out. Keep your hands on the central axis as you descend. 
Leigh led the way, with Nay next and me bringing up the rear. I was a couple steps 
into the dizzying descent when I realized the priest was not behind me and that he still 
had my mothers beans. I turned and started back up the steps. I saw the opening into 
the corridor Id walked down closing and the bright green image of a bird with wings 
unfurled and upswept on the wall. In a heartbeat the image vanished and I realized that 
the whole stairwell cylinder had shifted ninety degrees as we were descending. Had I not 
turned around and seen what I did, I would not have noticed the shift. 
From below I heard Leighs voice. Not quite what I expected 
as a way out. 
Nope. 
I descended quickly and came out into a small room. Once I left the stairwell, the 
cylinder turned again, cutting us off. Opposite us appeared to be an image of the bird 
again, this time looking as if translucent green stone had been carved to fill holes cut 
into the wall. Its glow built to brightness, illuminating 
the trio of hooded robes hanging on the wall. The robes took on a greenish 
cast because of the light shining on them, but I suspected they were really as white as 
our moon-masks. 
Nay turned to regard the both of us. Any idea what is happening? 
I shook my head. 
Leighs eyes narrowed. Its obvious, isnt it? Weve attracted 
the attention of a 
Society. 
A Society? Nays shoulders slumped a bit. They exist, sure, but no trade is marked 
by this symbol. 
Leigh held up a hand and waggled a finger at Nay. Those are the Lesser Societies, 
Nay, the public ones. Every trade has one and accepts only the best of the guild into 
them. They grew up after the Great Revolt, as a response to the Major Societies. Before 
the revolt took hold, long before it, secret societies brought together the leaders of the

day, allowing them to talk and plot. Some say the societies even predate the Estine 
Empire. I dont know if that is true, but the empires incompetent leadership certainly 
necessitated their spreading and flourishing. 
Everyone knows that, Leigh. Nay folded his arms across his chest. Thats where the 
wearing of masks originated, but after the revolt, they were done. 
Not exactly. Instead of vanishing, they spread, moving into nations that had never 
even been part of the Estine Empire. 
The societies are a means for people of differing 
nations to exchange ideas even though their nations might be hostile to each other. They 
serve as shadowy embassies that can circumvent 
official conflicts as needed. 
I raised an eyebrow. What do they want? 
Leigh smiled. Us, apparently. 
The bird image took on a golden hue. A disembodied voice echoed distantly as if 
speaking to us from the bottom of a well. You stand on the threshold of your future. 
Strip away your old selves and don these robes to become the men you are meant to 
be. 
Leigh leaned back against a wall and began to tug off his boots. He looked up when 
hed gotten the first one off, then tossed it aside. Well, take off your clothes and put on 
the robe. 
Are you sure we want to do this, Leigh? I nervously fingered the lacings on my 
shirt. We dont even know who they are. 
We dont, Hawkins, but we know some of the people they must be. He started on 
his other boot. What have we done to attract this attention? Weve been out on that 
hunt, killing temeryceswhich is a wonderful word to rhyme, by the wayand vylaens 
and gibberkin. Everyone in Valsina probably 
has heard some variation of a rumor about 
what weve done, but these people wouldnt invite us here based on rumor. 
Were here 
because they know what we did. 
I nodded and pulled the hem of my tunic from the top of my trousers. Which means 
they spoke with someone who knew what we did, like your father or Heslin. 
Nay smiled and sat down to kick his boots off. And they took us from the temple. 
Only a few people knew we were going there and when. 
Exactly. Leigh slipped off his pants, tugged off his tunic and peeled stockings from 
his raw feet. Standing naked except for his mask, he reached for a robe. Two nights ago 
they watched us, last night they evaluated us, and tonight they want us. Weve come far 
in just three days of a Moon Month, my friends. Just imagine where we will end up in a 
lifetime. 
We stood before the glowing golden bird emblem, wearing only the robes we had 
been given and our moonmasks. I certainly had no idea what to do next, and the voice 
did not return to help us. I started to reach a hand toward the symbol, to see if I could 
feel heat from it, but Leigh moved quickly to preempt me. He touched the symbol, then 
withdrew 
his hand quickly, as if hed stuck a finger on a needle. 
The stone panel slid slowly upward, revealing a small chamber that would only accept 
one of us. Nay and I took a step backward, inclining our heads toward Leigh. He stood 
stock still for a moment, then looked at us, blinking away surprise. His blue eyes became 
crescents, then he nodded and stepped into the chamber. 
The wall again descended. 
I heard no scream, no sounds of his struggling to get out, which did hearten me. It 
made no sense, after all, for our hosts to go to the lengths they did just to kill us when a 
dagger in the dark or poison in wine would have been less troublesome. Despite that line 
of logic, I couldnt shake a flesh-puckering sense of foreboding. 
Nay waved me forward, but I shook my head. You go before me. 
Not sure if they want someone of my low birth.

If they didnt want you, youd not be here. The priest could have separated us easily 
enough, or they could have taken us at another time. I smiled easily at him. Besides, 
Naysmith comes before Tarrant in the alphabet, as does Carver before Hawkins. If you 
precede me, we make it easy on whoever 
keeps their records. 
Nay frowned. By that reckoning, Leigh should have been last. Then again, he is a 
Norrington. 
Just assume his first name won it for him; its easier that way. I nodded to him. Ill 
see you on the other side. 
Nay touched the emblem and the wall swallowed him. 
I hesitated for a moment, taking one last look around the room, and at the piles of 
clothes that we had worn into the place. We had been directed to shed that which 
marked us as who we had been, so we could become the men we were meant to be. I 
knew the Moon Month was part of that process, but stepping through the wall became an 
active rather than passive move. It made things come faster than I expected, and while 
part of me was pleased to be moving forward quickly, another part of me hoped I wasnt 
running so fast I wouldnt be able to keep up with my legs. 
I pressed my hand against the emblem and kept it there despite the tingling pains 
trickling into my fingers. It was a petty victory over Leigh, and one only made possible 
by seeing how he had reacted, but I was glad to have won it. Leigh had been a life-long 
companion and friend. His self-centered nature 
was something I had lived with forever, 
and I had learned to ignore the trivial and warn him away from the malignant 
manifestations of it, but there were times he could get under my flesh. I stored up little 
victories like this to salve my soul when he annoyed me. 
I stepped into the chamber and the wall sank to the floor behind me. It closed me in a 
tight chamber that felt hot and the air heavy. I could breathe, but as I expanded my 
chest, both it and my back touched the front and rear walls respectively. 
I could move 
my arms only an inch or two and shift my feet about the same. As the air thickened, I 
felt as if Id been buried alive, and part of me wanted to scream. 
But Id not heard Leigh scream, so I refused to surrender. 
The voice returned. You have been chosen to join an elite assembly of men and 
women, most of whom you do not know and never will know. They all labor in the same 
cause, pulling in the same direction, to stave off the collapse of civilization into 
murderous barbarism. The correctness of their mission is not in question, merely your 
willingness to join them. Are you willing? 
I am. 
You, Tarrant Hawkins, will swear a solemn oath. If you betray us and reveal what 
you know of us, your right hand will wither, your right eye grow dark, your tongue will 
swell up to choke you, and your ears will bleed. Say it. 
I, Tarrant Hawkins, swear that if I betray the society and reveal what I know of it, my 
right hand will wither, my right eye grow dark, my tongue swell until it chokes me, and 
my ears bleed. 
A golden glow began above my head, then descended over my body. It tickled as it 
moved down and in its wake left my limbs tingling as if they had been asleep. My legs 
could not support me and I went limp. Somehow the chamber adjusted for this and I 
quickly found myself seated on the floor, with my knees under my chin and my arms 
flopped around them. 
I should note that writing the words you are reading could be taken as a violation of 
my oath. My right hand remains strong, my right eye bright, my tongue has not swollen, 
and my ears do not bleed. I can only conclude that either the society never had the 
power to enforce that oathsomething I do not believeor that whatever mystical agent 
governs the oath does not consider what I am writing to be a betrayal.

The heat built sharply in the chamber, then exploded into a twisting green torrent of 
fire. It swirled around me faster and faster, sucking the very air from my lungs. My robe 
burst into flames in a heartbeat, then my vision dimmed and the world went black. 
I awoke covered in sweat and bathed in a translucent blue glow. I still sat with my 
knees clutched to my chest, now utterly naked. I reached out with my right hand, 
moving only a couple of inches, and touched the glowing blue wall that defined the 
edges of my world. It felt firm and rasped slightly against my fingertips, but I sensed a 
fragility there as well. I pressed a finger against it, the flesh beneath my nail going white 
for a moment, then the wall cracked. I applied more fingers and pushed a bit harder, 
breaking away a small triangular 
piece. 
Cool air flowed in through the hole, bringing a smile to my face. I picked away at the 
hole, enlarging it carefully. When Id cut a bar across my oval prisons wall, I set my 
elbows against it and pushed them outward. More of the shell cracked. I smashed my 
head up and back, then cranked my arms around as far as they would go. Another flip of 
my head cast the top of the egg off and I stood. 
To my left Nay smashed a fist up through the top of his blue egg, then kicked his way 
free of the front of it. Beyond him Leigh emerged through the top of his egg, much as I 
had, then kicked his feet free and stomped the eggshell into dust. Standing there, 
watching them emerge, I tried to brush off the ash of my robe, but only smeared it 
along my sweaty flesh. 
The three of us occupied the central of five positions at the edge of a bowl-like 
depression. The bowl descended through three stepped levels, with men and women 
wearing brilliant red-, yellow-, and orange-hooded cloaks standing on all of them. At the 
bowls center rose a circular dais upon which stood two men. They wore the same sort 
of robes their fellows did, though ones cloak was edged in blue and the smaller mans 
was edged in black. Beyond them, beneath the side of the bowl facing us, an arched 
passageway led deeper into the facility. 
A hand emerged from beneath the smaller, stoop-shouldered 
mans cloak and 
pointed toward us. Behold, my brethren, 
from the flames we have eggs, and from the 
eggs we have new Minor Hatchlings. You should know them to be Bosleigh Norrington, 
Naysmith Carver, and Tarrant Hawkins. Study them, guide them, seek aid from them. 
Reveal to them no secret before their time, report those acts which do them praise or no 
credit and, in whichever way you are able, see to it that they have done no harm. 
As one the people gathered in the room reached up with their right hands, touched 
their foreheads, then brought the hand down, palm open and up, to linger at waist 
height for a moment before returning beneath the cloak. 
The little man resumed speaking. There, you three have seen the first of our signs, 
the most important one. It conveys an understanding of what has been said, and a 
willingness to comply with the obligation therein. Were the descending hand closed into 
a fist, or the face turned away from the rising hand, a lack of compliance or a failure to 
understand would be indicated. 
Do you follow? 
I touched my right hand to my brow, then lowered it with a palm facing the center of 
the room, as did my two companions. 
Good, very good, all of you. The old man bowed his head respectfully in our 
direction. We are the Ancient and Most Secret Society of the Knights of the Phoenix. In 
the time when the weirun fashioned themselves into the world and the gods had not 
risen from their dreams, many magickal beasts roamed the world. The dragons are still 
among us today, but other creatures have passed into legend. One of these, the phoenix, 
builds a nest, immolates itself, then is hatched anew from the ashes. So it is that we 
have gathered together, across the world, to guarantee the rebirth of that world when it 
is faced with crisis. We are guided by Erlinsaxs wisdom to pursue 
Graegens Justice,

often employing the skills granted to us by Kedyn to accomplish our ends. Do you 
understand? 
Again we repeated the gesture wed learned. 
Very good. The small man opened his arms. Who among you has proposed we 
accept these Minor Hatchlings into our flock? 
The man standing behind him spoke, and I recognized Lord Norringtons voice 
instantly. I did, Most Revered Flock Lord. 
And the reason you commended them to us? 
Though yet tender in age and unseasoned in the way of war, these three slew 
temeryces and a vylaen. Their quick thinking and selflessness saved the lives of 
comrades and allowed 
authorities to be alerted to the danger lurking in West-wood. 
Because of their actions, this danger has been destroyed, and we are now aware of 
greater danger to the world. 
The small man, who I came to suspect was Heslin, turned a full circle to study the 
other Knights gathered in the assembly 
hall. Does anyone speak against them? 
Silence answered him. 
Does anyone speak for them? 
A Knight below us took a step forward. I would ask leave to speak in their favor, 
Most Reverend Flock Lord. 
Granted, Greater White Phoenix. 
Brothers and sisters, we have all heard the tale of what these three did. It is within 
our power to acknowledge that the acts they have performed are beyond the 
expectations we demand 
of Hatchlings. I would suggest we accept them as Minor 
Fledglings, making it incumbent upon them to learn all knowledge they must possess for 
their new rank, and the rank they have passed by. 
Heslin again looked around the room. Does anyone speak against this elevation? 
Silence reigned. He nodded slowly, then looked up at us. You have been granted a 
great honor here, one which you will come to appreciate more and more as you 
progress in your knowledge. As a Fledgling there are three things you must know 
immediately. The first is this. 
Heslin threw back his hood. Underneath was a simple black mask the same size and 
design as our moonmasks. He closed his left eye and touched his left index finger to it. 
If you see this done and then the person points at something, be it nothing more than 
spilled wine, or as serious as spilled blood, you will turn a blind eye to it and speak of it 
to no one save if commanded to do so by an assembly of Knights. You will endure 
whatever temporal punishments are meted out for your silence, knowing that you are 
furthering our cause. 
He then touched his left index finger to the outside corner of his left eye and brought 
it back to touch his left earlobe. If you see this done, know that the person doing it is 
one of us and wishes to speak in private with you. You will, at your earliest convenience, 
without raising alarm or attention to yourself, seek this person out and speak with 
himalways within the strictures of silence demanded of you. 
The mage then reached out with his right index finger and drew a shape in the air. It 
burned with a golden light similar to the emblem on the wall. He started with a 
horizontal line, then added two shorter vertical lines that touched it a third of the way in 
from both ends. At the left end he drew a short vertical line that descended below the 
horizontal for as far as the other verticals rose above it. 
This symbol you will recognize as marking the Fledgling entrance to one of our 
meeting places. If you see it, know that your presence is demanded. Touch it and you 
will be taken to the place where you may best serve the society. Do you understand 
all 
these symbols?

Raising my hand and lowering it I indicated my understanding. 
Nay and Leigh did 
likewise. 
Good. As Fledglings you will be tutored in our ways here in our assembly hall, or 
in other assembly halls. Your duties are simple at this stage: obey your superiors, pursue 
all lawful duties, and provide succor to those who require it of you. The Most Ancient 
and Secret Society of the Knights of the Phoenix is proud to have you among us. 
Heslin applauded us and the others joined in. We did nothing but smile as they 
clapped. It did not occur to me except when they were filing out, with their colorful 
cloaks melding into a riot of color, that I was stark naked. I looked down and took some 
minor comfort in the fact that, given the grey ash smeared over me, and the dim light 
this high in the bowl, much of my nakedness had been clothed in shadow. 
Heslin, Lord Norrington, and a third man whom I quickly recognized as my father 
ascended the stairs toward us. My father wore a big smile, whereas the other two kept 
their expressions 
more under control. Each one of them carried a cloak that was mostly 
brown, quilted together out of feather-shaped strips of cloth. Only the lowest rank of 
feathers had been made of yellow. 
Heslin held his cloak up to Nay. These cloaks you will wear here, marking you as 
Minor Fledglings. When the hides of the temeryces you slew are tanned, a mantle of 
temeryx feathers will be added to each. 
My father gave me my cloak. You dont know how proud you have made me, 
Tarrant. 
I smiled at him. And you dont know how happy I am to hear that. I promise I will 
continue to do so. 
As will you all, I have no doubt. Lord Norrington reached beneath his cloak and 
drew out three black temeryx feathers. You are each entitled to affix one of these to 
your moonmask. It should put an end to the rumors of what you did or did not do out in 
Westwood. 
A feather wont still tongues that wag. 
Lord Norrington nodded. True enough, Nay, but they might slow them. He turned 
and waved the way back down the stairs. You can clean the ash off and dress again in 
your clothes. I believe you were all off to see your friend, Master Playfair. He has been 
told you were delayed, and the pot of beans is already there. 
Thank you. I almost started to say that Rounce would be surprised to hear what had 
happened to us, but I realized I couldnt say anything about our initiation to him. 
Another thought followed on the heels of that one as quickly as a wolf taking a lamb. 
Rounce will never become a Knight of the Phoenix, will he? 
My father stiffened, then shook his head. The injury to his knee is not good, Tarrant. 
He wont lose the leg, but it will never work right. His father might send for an elf to 
magick it back together, but there is no telling if one will come or would be successful. 
Lord Norrington rested a hand on my fathers shoulder. His injury would not bar 
him, but we tend to draw members from the military. Your friend, hes a good man, and 
will have a future. It will probably not be with us, but others of the Great Societies will 
see his worth. 
Nays head came up. Other Great Societies? 
There are others, all of whom agree with our ends, but differ as to the methods to 
reach them. Heslin pressed his hands together. We are at war with none of them, 
though our differences do make cooperation difficult at times. It is nothing 
with which 
you should be concerned at the moment. 
The mage lifted a hand. There is one last thing to keep in mind: you know who we 
are, and other Knights may make themselves known to you. Inquire of no one if they are 
one of us. Be discreet in making your signs and pursuing your duties. While we have no

true enemies, we are not always seen as friends. Yours is to wait and watch and learn; 
that is enough for now. 
I touched my hand to my brow, then displayed my palm. Nay and Leigh had done so 
as well. 
Heslin nodded. It looks as if this clutch is quick and full of promise. This is good. 
Given what brought you to us, we have never needed such as you more than now. 
Te went to see Rounce that night, and several times over the /next couple of days. I 
can remember how his face would  light up upon seeing us and he would thank us for 
having saved his life and his leg. I did not doubt, then or now, that he was sincere in his 
thanks, but I always caught a hint of bitterness 
beneath his words. The healers had 
bound his knee up tight in a canvas splint with oaken stays, keeping it straight and stiff. 
Even though Rounce could get up and put weight on ita little anyway, though he 
mostly got about on crutches we all knew he would never walk right again. 
Rounce would never be a warrior, and even though he might not have been perfectly 
suited to that life, the fact that he had been denied it so quickly and definitively always 
left him wondering what might have been. In all the chronicles of the events that took 
place subsequent to his wounding, he was only mentioned as a victimsometimes even 
misidentified as a shepherd or woodsman the three of us had rescued. That temeryx 
might not have killed Rounce, but it killed the person Rounce could have been, and the 
survivor left behind would forever muse about how things would have been different had 
he been in my place or Leighs. 
Within two days of our return to Valsina it was decided that someone had to bring 
news of what had happened to the Oriosan court. Normally that would have meant a 
sixty-league journey to the capital, Meredo. At an easy pace of five leagues a day, it 
would take us twelve days, or just over a week. Unfortunately 
for us, the queen would 
have already set out for the Alcidan capital of Yslin, to meet with the other rulers for the 
Harvest Festivalan international festival held every four years at a different site. 
The news we had to conveythat an unusual group of Aurolani creatures had been 
found in Oriosawas deemed momentous by the Lord Mayor and the other local nobles, 
so an embassy was to be dispatched to the queen, to inform her and her fellow royals 
about this threat. Lord Norrington was tasked with putting the group together and he 
selected Nay, Leigh, and me to be part of it. 
While I was honored beyond words to be included, I didnt think it was right and was 
determined to refuse. I reasoned that I had no place going and speaking with royalty of 
any stripe. Moreover, my Moon Month had barely begun, and there was a harvest to be 
brought in, and I wasnt at all comfortable 
with leaving Valsina when more foul 
creatures might be lurking about. 
My father listened to my protests silently, then shook his head. You have no choice in 
this matter, Tarrant. Lord Kenwick Norrington is my liege lord. We are his to do with as 
he wishes. While I would be most pleased to accompany you all, I am Valsinas 
Peaceward. My place is here, preparing the city for the worst your discovery augers. 
Your place is with him, on the road, going to Yslin. 
But my Moon Month 
Ah, there we have the crux of it, yes? My father chuckled. 
All the galas, all of your 
being lionized for what you have done. The feasts youll miss. The trysts. Hardly seems 
fair, does it? 
I glanced down at the floorboards. Well, no. 
Life isnt about fair. My fathers voice took on a stern edge. What happened to 
Rounce isnt fair. Sure as there are ten days in a week, hell live with the consequences of 
it, no reprieve because of a Moon Month. Youll be doing the same thing. Lifes intruding 
on your fun. Were it up to me, I might wish it different, but it isnt and I dont.

You have a duty, Tarrant, to Lord Norrington, the people of Valsina and of Oriosa. 
And a duty to yourself. If you were to stay here, youd not have a chance to see how far 
you could go- 
I frowned. Youre staying here. 
But I didnt always stay here. Im on the backslope of the mountain of my life, youre 
just in the foothills. Youve got to make the climb. 
I accepted what he told me and realized that I was being selfish and a little scared. 
The Moon Month was supposed to be a transition period, and I was feeling a bit cheated 
out of not getting at least a month. But my fathers comment about Rounce brought 
home just how petty that idea was. 
Our expedition shaped up quickly. Lord Norrington picked Heslin and two of his 
apprentices to travel with us, in addition to four huntsmen and ten soldiers. We each 
brought with us three horses, basic necessities such as blankets, wet weather gear, 
armor and weapons, as well as food for all of us and grain for the horses. Rounces 
father saw to the provisioning 
and even bartered some of his goods with an armorer so 
that Nay and I could get our basic needs met. He said he would accept no payment from 
us, but Nay and I both gave him our moongold, seeing as how it would do us no good 
on the road. 
In terms of armor and weaponry, I ran toward things that would allow me to preserve 
my speed and maneuverability. I accepted a long mail surcoat and coif, with an open 
helm to go over my head, then gauntlets, bracers, and greaves. I chose a padded leather 
gambeson and trousers to wear beneath, and for everyday protection. I included a 
horsebow and three sheaves of thirty arrows each, a sword, a small ax, and two daggers 
as my personal armament. The sword was a yard and some long, with thirty inches of 
double-edged steel for a blade. A simple crosshilt protected my hands and the hilt was 
long enough for me to use two hands on it if needed. 
Leigh and Nay equipped themselves the same as I did, though Nay opted away from a 
sword. Instead he chose a hideous-looking maul a good four feet long, with half a foot 
of triangular steel spike on top of that. The mauls top eight inches had been wrapped 
with steel, about doubling the stout oaken hafts diameter, and four narrow strips of steel 
ran the hafts length to turn swords and axes looking to chop into it. The maul weighed 
at least twice what my sword did, though Nay twirled it around as if it were a willow 
wand. 
Taking leave of my parents was not easy, and I was pleased I did so at home and not 
in front of my traveling companions. My father, mother, and I ate breakfast barefaced 
that morning. My mother made certain I had plenty to eat and constantly reminded me 
about what to do if I found myself chafed, sunburned, 
with a variety of rashes, bumps, 
bruises, or even the occasional cut. She also extracted from me promises to mend my 
clothes quickly, so Id be seen as more than a beggar, and to send word back to her as I 
could about how I was faring. 
My father filled me in on things he knew about various members of the expedition 
and told me to learn as much as I could from Lord Norrington. He also demanded that I 
take care of my horses before I cared for myself and to be diligent in my duties around 
the camp. He told me that no one ever complained if water buckets were filled fast, or if 
more firewood 
was gathered than ever would be used. He also warned against 
complaining about the food, no matter how vile, and suggested a dozen different ways 
to stay awake when on a watch in the deepest night. 
And he admonished me against cruel gossip and told me to watch over Leigh as if he 
were my brother. I knew the two things were linked, since unkind folks had whispered 
that Leigh was small and given to frippery because his parents were first cousins. Such 
things being said had always angered my father and I knew they stung Leigh, so Id

always refrained from any mention of that and had truly treated him like a brother. 
Now that I was going away from home, I felt as if this last bit of advice was my father 
passing on to me part of the duty he felt to the Norrington household. With a solemn 
nod I let him know Id shoulder that burden gladly. He smiled and nothing more was 
said. 
I kissed both of them good-bye and brushed my mothers tears away before donning 
my moonmask. My last vision of them, before the mask-curtain slid down to hide them, 
was of them holding each other, wearing brave smiles, waving at me. I gave them a 
salute, then opened the door and let the sound of the latch opening and closing behind 
me hide my mothers gentle sobbing. 
We met at Valsinas South Gate and immediately set off. We would skirt the Bokagul, 
less out of any fear of dealing with the urZrethi than just wanting to avoid the trouble of 
riding through the mountains. Men and urZrethi had fought a terrible war centuries past, 
and although a peace did exist between us, both sides largely kept to themselves. 
Despite living 
in the shadow of the Bokagul Mountains my whole life, Id never seen an 
urZrethi, and only heard my father speak of meeting them a couple of times. 
Wed head west once wed passed the mountains, passing north of the ruined city of 
Atval, then go along the border road to Yslin. The entire ninety-eight-league trek would 
take us eighteen days. We would arrive in Yslin in the middle of the Harvest Festival. 
The early part of the journey proved uneventful. We camped out some nights and 
took over the inns in a few small villages on others. Since our road provisions consisted 
of dried beef, cobbleslittle, round biscuits baked hard enough to serve as paving 
stonesflour, rice, and millet, taking meals in the taverns offered us variety we all 
welcomed. Being able to stable the horses and get them more grain instead of just field 
forage was also a welcome change. 
When asked why we were traveling south, Lord Norrington told innkeepers that he 
was taking the three of us moonmas-kers to the Harvest Festival in Yslin to broaden our 
view of the world. This explanation proved immensely entertaining for tavern denizens, 
who all took it upon themselves to discuss every Harvest Festival story theyd ever heard. 
Some of them were good, but quite a few dulled after the first telling, and we heard 
them night after night. 
We also learned a lot about local happenings. So far the news from Valsina had not 
made it south, so no one knew what wed done. The black temeryx feathers on our 
moon-masks were taken to be from overly large ravens, and a few folks poked fun at us 
for that. Leigh bristled at such things, but his father kept him in line. Nay and I just fell 
into a pattern of spinning out a tale of our war with the ravens. It grew with each telling 
and, truth be told, was more entertaining 
than most festival stories. 
Back on the road, as the three of us were riding with Leighs father, I asked Lord 
Norrington when the last time was that temeryces and vylaens and gibberkin had been 
found in Oriosa. 
He pursed his lips for a moment, then looked at me. In truth, I do not know. Youve 
heard the stories of local news, how some shepherds have found sheep dead or how 
farmers have lost calves. Could be thats the work of wolves, or it could be temeryces. 
They could have been here for years and weve not known it. I doubt it, though, since 
they seem quite bold. 
As for confirmed sightings, you would have to go back a century or so, at the time of 
the last Aurolani invasion. Among the Aurolani a leader rose up, a vylaen-urZrethi 
mongrel, if the stories are true, named Kreechuc. He gathered a vast army and 
descended through a pass in the Boreal Mountains. They swept over Norivawhat we 
call the Ghost Marches now and conquered Vorquellyn. No one thought they could do 
that, no one thought the Aurolani could master ship building or sailing, but they had.

They sailed on south, bypassing Fortress Draconis, to attack 
Sebcia and Muroso. 
Leigh frowned. I thought Fortress Draconis was meant to protect the Southlands 
from invasion. It failed. 
His father shook his head. Fortress Draconis is perfectly positioned to cut off supplies 
flowing south, which it effectively 
did. After the elves smashed most of his fleet, 
Kreechucs army had to live off the land. His forward troops moved into Oriosa, but 
urZrethi from Bokagul and Sarengul halted their advance. Human forces then pushed in 
through Saporcia and drove the army back through the Black Marches. 
Troops from Fortress Draconis harried them all the way to the pass, then a strong 
Aurolani force held them back. 
Kreechuc was killed at Yvatsen Bend. Nay smiled. He thought he held the only ford 
for many leagues. Thought he was safe with the river bend between us and his army. 
Lord Norrington nodded. You know the history of the Twilight Campaign? 
My mothers father knew the tales. Had them from his father. Wanting to be a warrior 
comes from that. 
If your great-grandfather was part of the Twilight Campaign, 
you are heir to a noble 
tradition. Lord Norrington gave Nay a broad smile. And you are correct. An urZrethi 
host shifted tons of stones to make another ford, then the army crossed to Kreechucs 
rear. They drove his forces back against the river, shattering them and killing him. Our 
army then headed north, joined with the troops from Fortress Draconis, and pushed on, 
bent on slaying his foul mistress. Chytrine raised an army and blocked the pass. 
Leigh frowned. If we broke the Aurolani army, why didnt we free the Ghost Marches 
and Vorquellyn? 
Lord Norrington shrugged his shoulders rather stiffly. It happened long before my 
time, so I dont know for certain. The immediate reason for the lack of a fight was an 
early winter. The army headed home. The Twilight Campaign cost a lot of lives and 
created a lot of misery, so few were the rulers willing to repeat that sort of hardship for 
their people. 
Other problems took over later. Okrannel felt secure behind 
its mountain border 
with the Ghost Marches and didnt want to invite an army in. Given how armies tend to 
feed off the locals, thats not hard to understand. Also Noriva and Okrannel used to fight 
a lot over the bay between them, so not having the lords of Noriva returned to their 
lands meant one less problem for Okrannels leaders. 
Leighs eyes got a distant look. Wouldnt a seaborne invasion 
have worked? 
It might have, but that sort of thing is very difficult. The logistics . . . 
I narrowed my eyes. Is this something that is being considered? 
Considering it is an exercise that has kept many warriors from boredom while 
garrisoning some far-flung fortress. Lord Norrington laughed lightly. Perhaps we can 
work out details on our journey. 
That was the reason Vorquellyn was never freed? Nays eyes hardened. It is an 
island. 
It is an island, but that is not the only reason for its remaining under the Aurolani 
banner. Lord Norrington un-stoppered his canteen and drank, then wiped his mouth off 
with his right hand. The elves live in their homelands, of which Vorquellyn is one. Their 
holdings used to be much larger, but they retreated to the present enclaves as humans 
spread further. When they reach the right age, roughly akin to your reaching your Moon 
Month, they undergo a ritual that ties them to the homeland of their birth. It is a 
magickal bond. If their homeland suffers, so do they, so they steward the land far more 
diligently than any other species. 
When the Aurolani forces overran the island, those Vorquellyn 
elves who had been 
bound to the land and survived the attack were in much pain. Some died of being

heartsick. Others just headed west. What they did when they reached the ocean, no one 
knows; they just vanished. The others, the youngers, though, they could not be bound 
to any other homeland, though other elves offered them sanctuary. The Vorquellyn 
elves, theyre very different. 
He sat back in his saddle. You three have never seen elves, have you, or urZrethi or 
any of the other species. 
I smiled. You mean, besides gibberkin and vylaens? 
Point taken. Not me. 
Nay shook his head, as did Leigh. 
Perhaps in Yslin we will see some. Envoys attend the festival 
from time to time. 
Lord Norrington stroked his chin. By the end of your Moon Month you will see more of 
the world than most people do in a lifetime. Perhaps 
Whatever he was going to say was cut off by one of the outriders from our northern 
flank reining up before us. My lord, weve cut across signs of travelers in the woods. 
Human? 
Gibberkin, I think. Day-old sign. The man shook his head. At least a dozen, 
running parallel to us. 
Lord Norringtons eyes tightened. The road is fairly open, so it would have to be a 
night attack, and they wouldnt have delayed that sort of thing if they were just raiding. 
Heslin came riding up. Trouble? 
The outriders have come across gibberkin sign. Theyve been tracking us. 
The mage nodded. That assumes they know who we are and have watched us from 
Valsina. Do you think one of the gibberkin escaped us in Westwood? 
It works as an explanation. The sign also suggests there were more parties working 
in Oriosa, and they may have been tracking us until they found the strength or place to 
ambush us. Leighs father stood in his stirrups and looked around the broad valley 
through which we rode. No cover, no real defensible 
position. The forests could be full 
of Aurolani creatures. 
Heslin pointed south across the low hills bordering the valley. The ruins of Atval are 
perhaps a dozen miles ahead. 
Atval? Lord Norrington shook his head. We would have to be insane to chance it. 
Or desperate. The old mage smiled. If they know of Atval, they wont have cut the 
path off to it, since they wont expect us to go for it. If we do, we might be able to fight 
them off. And even if the doom that came to Atval visits it again, chances are the 
Aurolani force will be destroyed, too. 
Its better than dying in a meadow. Lord Norrington looked at the outrider. Cooper, 
bring everyone in. Were riding 
for Atval. Spread the word, armor up, change to fresh 
horses. Well be riding hard to make it by nightfall. 
As you wish, my lord. 
Norrington looked at Heslin again. Are you certain about this? 
If one has to die, why not go out in a blaze of glory, eh? The mage cackled dryly, 
then reined his horse around and rode back toward his apprentices. 
I felt my mouth grow dry. What did he mean? 
Blaze of glory? Its a joke, and a bad one. 
No, what did he mean when he mentioned the doom that came to Atval? He said it 
would get us, too. Thats not possible, is it? 
Oh, it is, Hawkins, very possible. Lord Norrington sighed heavily. After all, the 
doom that came to Atval was dragons. They laid waste to the city and declared that no 
man shall ever live there again. If we take shelter there, we might survive the gibberkin, 
but if the dragons come enforce their decree . . . 
I nodded. Our Moon Month will be eclipsed.

Totally and completely, Tarrant. rn he Black City of Atval hung like a cloud on the 
horizon. I Because it was built on a rise in the landscape, we were able 1 to see it once 
we crested the hills. As we rode toward it, I waited for details to sharpen, but they never 
did. The whole city seemed liquid shadow, though the suns death did splash bloody red 
highlights over the western surfaces. 
Established well before the Great Revolt, Atval had been a simple settlement in the 
middle of plains that had served dragons for years as prime hunting grounds, but the 
leaders of the city struck a bargain with the dragons. They managed the bison herds, 
providing the dragons with thousands of the beasts each year without fail. The city 
prospered and walls that had once been wooden became made of stone. Massive 
battlements were raised and men decided their city had become formidable enough that 
they no longer need fear dragons. 
A leader rose among them and led the people in a revolt against the dragons. They 
withheld their tribute and attacked the dragons sent to collect it. Legend says at least one 
dragon diedand stories hint at something that was more murder than a killing. For a 
short time, the people celebrated their grand victory and the leader who had won it for 
them. 
As we drew close, the folly of their decision could not have been made more clear. 
The city itself remained recognizable in general shape, with huge walls and open gates, 
wide streets, monuments raised in central squares, buildings high and low spread out in 
an orderly fashion. What remained terrifyingly remarkable about it all was that the city 
might well have been fashioned of black wax, then placed too close to a fire. All hard 
edges had been softened, the crenelations on the walls melted down so the trails of 
molten stone could be seen. Roof tiles had run like water and frozen into stone daggers 
hanging like icicles from eaves. Square windows had been reduced to sloppy, sag-sided 
boxes, and proud archways had been softened 
into defeated holes. 
As we rode into the city, Leigh pointed at what appeared to be rafters that somehow 
had survived the dragons assault. How is it possible the wood survived? 
How is it possible any of this survived? Heslin reined up short. Dragonfire is tinged 
with magic. It can destroy, as it has done, or can be used to reshape stoneas they do 
when they form their halls in the mountains. Here they drove the people out, then 
reshaped the city as a warning. No man, no creature that walks on two legs, will ever be 
permitted to take up residence here ever again. Dragons, who trust occasionally, never 
forgive betrayal. 
Leigh sighed. But we didnt do anything to any dragons. 
Heslin laughed. And you would distinguish among dragons 
and their clans when 
you hear stories of raids? 
Ah, no. 
Neither do they, at least, not when it comes to Atval. A dragon was murdered here. 
Those who did it thought the dragons death would discourage other dragons. The old 
mage waved a hand toward the city. They were wrong. The place reeks of dragon 
magic. They will know we are here, but how swiftly they will respond, I do not know. 
Cooper, the outrider who had located the gibberkin sign, pointed along our backtrail. 
Theyre coming in. Looks like multiple groups coming together. Gibberkin and 
temeryces, probably vylaens, too. 
Leighs father rode back to the gate and peered out. No drearbeasts or hoargouns, 
but there must be a hundred of them at least. We need to find a building we can 
defend. 
Temple to Kedyn? Nay pointed toward the center of the city. If fighting there does 
get us help, the gods might at least be amused. 
As good a choice as any. Cooper, keep Alder and Darby here with you. Sign is

moon, countersign is sun. Get us a count on them and then join us at the templeand 
dont wait to come until theyre right on your heels. Id rather error in your count than 
not getting it at all. 
We took the outriders spare horses and rode with them into the city and up the broad 
steps of Kedyns temple. Riding into the building, which was not quite as large as the 
temple in Valsina, we got our first indication of how complete the dragons 
destruction 
of the city had been. The building itself showed the ravages of their fire, but inside the 
furnishings had also been affected. Tables and chairs were half-melted, but now made of 
stone. The statues of Kedyn, Fesyin, and Gesric had flowed down over their pedestals as 
if they were sand-castles overwashed by waves on a lakeshore. That the destruction 
had 
been so precise, leaving the structure sound while obliterating those things that defined 
its purpose, spoke very loudly to the dragons contempt for all things human. 
Once inside we gathered the horses down in the worship bowl and set about erecting 
barricades at the doors. Lord Nor-rington dispatched scouts, including Leigh, to seek out 
all entrances 
to the building. While the stone furnishings were heavy and hard to move, 
once we got them into position, we knew the Aurolani forces would have a hard time 
getting past them. I was sent up a stairway with four other archers to the second-story 
priests-walk. There, I would be able to shoot out through the windows or down into the 
nave if the Aurolani broke in through the front. 
Down below, Heslin and his apprentices managed to magickally rekindle some of the 
votive fires that once would have briehtened the whnl<= nf thp tpmnls Wolf-molt^ ~r.A 
misshapen as the sconces were, the ones that did work guttered 
with low flame and 
twisted shadows slithered throughout 
the temple. While they did dispel the gloom, they 
really gave us little more light than I would have expected of the sun a half-hour before 
it rose. 
While Lord Norrington had been in charge of the hunt for the temeryces in Westwood, 
this was the first I saw him in a purely military situation. He made decisions quickly and 
definitively, 
though he sought advice from others and modified plans based on what 
they told him. The choices he made seemed most sensible to me, and the fact that hed 
arranged for signs and countersigns and fallback positions made me feel as if the whole 
situation were under control. I knew we would be in a desperate fight, but I never had 
the feeling we were staging a defense in which we would all die. 
That opinion underwent some revision when the gibberkin 
arrivedCooper and the 
others reported having seen at least two hundred. Id seen gibberers before, in 
Westwood, but theyd been dead. Their bulk had been easy to dismiss as fat, but the 
gibberkin stalking down the streets had muscles rippling beneath their mottled and 
matted fur. Their tall, black-tufted ears flicked this way and that, and they raised their 
broad muzzles to sniff the air. The gibberkin growled and snapped at each other, one or 
another giving voice to a blood-curdling noise that married a wolfs-howl with lunatic 
laughter. Most went unarmored, but all carried short spears and murderously long 
knives. A few had bows, and my companions 
and I silently agreed they would die first. 
I nocked an arrow and drew it back to my chin. The bowstring 
pressed against my 
lower lip. I sighted in on a stout gibberkin who pumped his bow in the air and gave 
voice to one of the hideous screams. I loosed my arrow and cut the scream off. The 
arrow ripped into and out of his neck, spraying 
black blood over his compatriots and 
sticking another gib-berer in the thigh. 
Other arrows struck down gibberers, then the horde surged forward and up the steps 
in a seething mass. I shot arrow after arrow into it, never really having time to pick a 
target, but knowing I could not miss. The mob stopped for a moment and, from the 
shouts from below, I assumed the front line had hit our barricade. Shouts turned to 
screams and bestial yelps. Husky laughter from below and the dragging of thrashing

gibberkin to the rear ranks of their formation told me wed held and my friends were 
inflicting serious wounds below. 
Again and again the gibberkin horde flowed up the stairs. Shrieking and yowling as if 
the sound alone would kill us, they rushed the barricade. They hurled rocks and arrows, 
axes and spears to drive our men back. The archers and I continued to feather them, 
doing our best to pick off vylaens or the few temeryces we saw. 
Shouts from down below brought me around. From off on the left I saw a bright 
flash, then a burning temeryx sprinted into the nave. Its claws scrabbled against the 
stone floor, and as the fire consumed it, the creature slipped and fell. Acrid black smoke 
rose from it, then two more temeryces appeared and ran at our barricade from behind. 
In their wake I saw one of Heslins apprentices face down in a growing pool of blood. 
The other supported the old man with one arm, touching a simple staff to another 
temeryx and causing it to burst into flame. 
I loosed an arrow at one of the temeryces and split its breastbone. It flopped to the 
ground, spending its momentum by sliding into and undercutting one of the outriders. 
Another man whirled and beheaded the dying beast with a single sword stroke. He died 
moments later as the other temeryx leaped and slashed his chest and belly open. 
Soldiers turned from the barricade to deal with the attack from our rear. Vylaens 
outside shouted new orders in a foul, harsh tongue. The gibberkin snarled savagely and 
assaulted our line one more time. They slowed for a moment, letting me pin ones 
breastbone to its spine with an arrow, then the gibberkin 
surged forward again. They 
didnt stop and I knew our barricade had been breached. 
I turned and directed my shots into the temples nave. My first shot split the spine of 
one gibberer, dropping him at Lord Norringtons feet. Leighs father ducked the mighty 
crosscut aimed at his head by one, then slashed his sword through its legs. The blade 
then came up in an arc and down to split another gibberkins skull. He danced back from 
the two he had killed, helped one of our warriors back to his feet, then opened another 
gibberers belly with a forehand slash. 
Nay was no less magnificent. He caught a leaping gib-berkin on his mauls spike, then 
dumped the belly-stuck creature 
onto two of its own kind as if a farmer pitchforking hay 
from one pile to the next. He parried a swordcut with his weapons haft, then drove the 
steel butt-cap into a muzzle. An overhand blow crushed the gibberers skull, then a 
sidelong slashing attack shattered ribs on another. 
Of Leigh I could see nothing, but the nave had become a sea of chaos accompanied 
by a hellish chorus of screams and howls, bold laughter and hissed curses. I saw a knot 
of gib-berkin break out to the right and feathered one before they disappeared beneath 
the priests-walk. I realized they were headed for the stairs that Id used to get up to the 
walk, so I drew my sword and ran to the archway. 
I reached it a heartbeat before the first of many gibberers. A two-handed slash sent 
him reeling back, clutching his ruined face. Those following him battered him out of the 
way and came rushing out full on, longknives and clawed hands reaching for me. 
I ducked back, letting one fly past. He sailed across the priests-walk and caught the 
melted balustrade just below his knees. He somersaulted over it and lazily spun toward 
the floor below. 
More came, howling, slashing at me with their weapons. I hacked at them, catching 
limbs, my blade sparking off longknives raised to parry. I caught one with a solid blow 
across the neck. He spun away, but not before a hot jet of blood spurted back into my 
face, blinding me. I inhaled some of it and started choking. I backed quickly, my feet 
finding minimal purchase on the blood-slicked floor. 
I blinked my eyes to clear them and was rewarded with the vision of a wall of 
gibberers coming for me. I lashed out half-blind, stabbing here, cutting there. My armor

turned strokes I never saw. My shoulders began to ache and one sharp blow to my left 
arm numbed it from the elbow down. 
And on they yet came. 
I tasted sour, salty blood on my lips and could smell it on my face. My stomach 
roiled, half from the scent and half from hurt. Gibberkin howls pounded me while 
anguished screams drilled into my soul. What had been a noble expedition and a chance 
to explore the world had deteriorated into a slaughter that dappled my moonmask with 
blood. Part of me was certain 
my own blood would soon be in the mix, and that part of 
me wanted to panic. 
The tingle of returning sensation in my left hand gave me hopenot of survival, but 
hope that Id take more of the gibberers with me. If Coopers count had been right, we 
were outnumbered ten to one, and Id not killed nearly my share yet. I was determined 
to do that and set my teeth in a fierce grimace as the gibberkin came for me. 
My only hope was to play for time. I retreated along the priests-walk, letting the 
gibberers string themselves out, so I could engage them one on one. A quick slash here 
opened ones belly, leaving him on his knees, madly stuffing ropy white entrails back 
into his open gut. His companions surged around him, undaunted. 
I turned and ran the dozen yards to the end of the priests-walk, then pivoted and cut 
to the left to continue my flight up the long side of the temple. I stopped quickly and 
lunged forward as a gibberkin rounded the corner. Id have skewered him, but he 
allowed himself to careen into the wall. He held his left arm wide, letting my blade pass 
between it and his rib cage. 
He flashed fangs in a lupine grin of victory. 
I slashed my blade up into his armpit. A wash of hot blood poured down the sword 
as I severed his brachial artery. My blade splashed his blood against the wall as I began 
to run again. He kept with me, his teeth snapping as if he wanted to bite me, then he 
faltered and slumped against the wall. His heart continued to pump the life out of him, 
gushing it into a lake that caused one of his followers to slip and crash into the wall. The 
other two leaped over it and came running. 
I cut through a doorway into what had once been some priests private chambers. 
Despite a little moonlight streaming in through open windows, the darkness lay thick 
enough on the room that I could discern all but nothing in the way of details. Almost 
immediately something caught me across the shins. My greaves absorbed the damage, 
but I spilled forward, head over heels. My sword went flying off into the darkness, 
clattering to rest somewhere. I picked myself up as I looked for it, but all I saw were the 
silhouettes of the gibberkin. I turned and leaped through one of the windows, praying 
the fall to the ground would not injure me. 
My prayer was answered. 
The window had pot looked out on the street, but onto a courtyard garden built as an 
extension of the temples second floor. I landed on a slick surface of melted and 
recongealed gravel, which sent me sliding along into the stony bulk of what had once 
been a wooden planter filled with rose bushes. 
The pair of gibberkin that had chased me climbed through the window, and two more 
emerged after them. They spread out as they came for me, slowly, cautiously. Their 
shortswords dwarfed the dagger I brandished, drawing derisive hoots. 
I moved around so the planter served as a breestwork. Straightening up, I waved 
them forward. Which will it be? I forced my voice to be firm and pitched it low. The 
first of you to reach me will die. Which one of you wants that honor? 
That was the wrong question to ask. The four of them exchanged snaps and snarls. 
Then, apparently unwilling to let any one of them claim the honor, they came at me 
together.

fP heir united front died seconds before they did. The two on I my left pulled up short 
as if theyd hit an invisible wall. 1 Silver moonlight flashed from circular shapes that 
whizzed through the air and chunked solidly into them, chest and throat respectively. 
Without more than a harsh cough from the one, the two of them collapsed into petrified 
rose bushes, crackling and popping them on the way down. 
The third gibberer dove at me over the rose barricade, intent on stabbing me with his 
longknife. I twisted, letting his blade slide past harmlessly, then brought my dagger up. 
My thrust stabbed deep into his chest. A warm gush of blood covered my right hand as 
the blades tip emerged from his back. 
His dive continued, with his left shoulder catching me in the chest. It knocked me 
back on my heels and we went down together. We bounced once, hard, then I heaved, 
flinging his body off. He flew away and took my dagger with him. I heard his head 
smack wetly against an unseen planter, finishing what my knife had started. 
I turned back to my left to face the last gibberkin. I saw it loom above me, then its 
upper bodv ierked forward Ttc U^A hit its knees, then rebounded as the beast fell 
forward. It landed hard, muzzle-first on the ground. It stayed there for a second, 
balanced on knees and nose, then toppled to the side, its guts flooding out with a sigh. 
Beyond where the gibberer had stood, I caught the first glimpse of my savior. Blood 
streamed from his swords blade. Moonlight drained all the native color from his flesh, 
but painted the various tattoos on his bare arms in clear relief. He had sharpened ears, 
which were quite easy to see because his pale hair had been shaved away from the sides 
of his head and remained only in a narrow strip down the center. I thought from his 
profile and the shape of his ear that he must be an elf, but they were all supposed to be 
tall and slender. He was not. Tall, yes, very tall, but thickly muscled. He was easily larger 
than Nay. 
As he knelt on one knee beside me, I gave him a grateful smile. Id like to th 
He clapped a blood-slicked hand over my mouth and pressed me back down on the 
roof. Silence! His voice came in a harsh whisper colder than the north wind in winter. 
I wiped blood from my mouth with the back of my left hand as he moved to the 
gibberer bodies. He bypassed the one hed nearly cut in half with his sword and squatted 
beside the one Id killed. He pulled down its lower lip, then snarled and moved on. He 
pulled the things that had killed the other two from their bodies, then checked their 
lower lips. Something about the second one, the one hed hit in the chest with his 
missile, elicited a low chuckle. 
The moonlight made it difficult to see what he did, but as nearly as I could make out, 
he jammed the tips of his thumbs into the creatures muzzle and pressed his fingers 
against its open eyes. He mumbled something with a sing-song melody and the shadows 
around his hands seemed to intensify. More sinisterly, a tattoo on his left forearm began 
to glow a deep dark blue. It reminded me of Fesyin sign, for it had the shape of the 
broken twig, yet had been embellished with sharply hooked thorns. 
The gibberers body shook. The elf pulled his hands free and the gibberkin lurched to 
its feet. Its lips curled back in a feral snarl. The elf aped the grimace, then barked out an 
order in a guttural tongue the very sound of which made my flesh crawl. The gibberer 
turned, its arms hanging rather loosely, and trotted back into the temple. 
The elf turned back to me and the moons light blazed from his silver eyes. Unhurt? 
I nodded. 
How many? 
Gibberers? Two hundred. 
Vylaens? Temeryces? 
Some, yes. 
Good. He waved me forward. Come.

I rolled to my feet and bent to pull my dagger from the gibberer, but a snapped 
command stayed my hand. 
Leave it. The elf extended to me the hilt of one of the gibberers longknives. Better 
for killing, this. 
I took it, then padded alongside him back to the window Id come through. How did 
you . . . ? 
Again he covered my mouth with a hand. Silence. Live and I might explain. 
He went through the window first, then snapped his fingers 
and I followed. I heard 
the scrape of metal on stone, then felt the pommel of my sword poke me in the ribs. I 
took it and nodded thanks. His crouched silhouette moved to the doorway, 
then into the 
hall, and I came hard at his heels. 
The temples nave was filled with bodies. Heslins mage-light still held, letting me see 
where my people had fallen back to the entrance of a side room around which were 
arranged overturned tables and other furniture to form a semicircle. The breastwork 
limited the number of Aurolani forces who could get at Lord Norrington and the others. 
The room allowed 
men to retire and rest as others stepped up to fight. 
Lord Norrington and Nay stood behind the breastwork dealing death and doing 
damage with an ease that belied the sheer fatigue they had to be feeling. Norringtons 
silver blade flashed, slicing paws from arms; gashing red, wet furrows in flesh and 
cleaving skulls open. Nays maul struck with viperish speed. He shattered muzzles, 
scattering teeth; drove his spike through chests, crushing ribs and piercing organs. The 
dead and dying hung on the breastwork or were drawn back through the horde to be 
dumped on the stairs and slid down to where our horses shied from them. 
The gibberer that the elf had magicked ran ahead of us on the priests-walk, then 
hurled itself into the roiling mass of its fellows. It carried a half dozen of them to the 
ground, then heaved itself up and snapped its muzzle shut on the throat of a vylaen. The 
smaller Aurolani clawed at the gibberer. The gibberer 
whipped its head back and forth, 
cracking the vylaens neck with the ease of a dog killing a rat. 
As other gibberers hacked the assassin to pieces, the elf opened his arms and stalked 
across the priests-walk. He barked in a loud voice and that quelled the gibberers chorus 
from below. Cruel hard words exploded from his mouth in a short, sharp cadence. I 
could not understand what he said, but he was nothing shy of magnificent. Standing 
there, wearing only a sleeveless leather jerkin, leather breeches, and tall boots fitted with 
greaves, he howled at the Aurolani forces. 
A vylaen snarled orders at gibberers, and I noticed a bunch of them peel off from the 
rear of the pack to head toward both stairwells leading up to the priests-walk. 
The elf pointed at the opening Id defended before. None get past. 
Over my dead body. 
My joke narrowed the elfs eyes, then he snorted and turned toward the doorway he 
would defend. 
I darted through the opening and slashed at the first gibberer 
coming up the stairs. 
The stairs themselves helped me because the tight spiral meant the central spine was 
always on the right of anyone ascending. A right-handed swordsman couldnt bring his 
blade into play very easily, whereas I had plenty of room to make nice right to left 
slashes. 
My first blow caught the gibberer on its raised forearm. I pulled my blade back, then 
raised my right hand to stab down over his forearm. My blade pierced him between neck 
and shoulder, going in a good handspan or so, then came out with a meaty, wet sucking 
sound. I used the gibberer knife in my left hand to parry his weak lunge at me, then I 
kicked out with my right foot, caught him in the muzzle, and sent him back into those 
bunched behind him.

As they peeled him off to the outside and continued up, I realized Id made a mistake 
earlier by not defending the stairwell 
itself. The doorway was a great fallback position, 
but here I had them at a severe disadvantage. My strokes would fall on heads and 
shoulders, while they could only stab at my armored 
legs. My only vulnerability lay at 
my back, but I didnt think my savior was going to let anyone get past him. 
On the gibberers came, heedless of how hopeless their situation 
was. A quick feint 
would bring an arm up in defense, then I would twist around to lunge past it and catch a 
throat. A low parry with the longknife would let me riposte to the chest or face. One 
gibberer did his best to swallow my sword, then he snorted blood and collapsed. A blow 
that went awry might only sever an ear or shatter an arm, but a second or third attack 
was usually enough to finish the gibberer and feed another into my killing range. 
Finally the last gibberer flopped down, his neck open and gushing blood in rapidly 
decreasing spurts. He slid back, bumping limply over blood-drenched steps and other 
corpses, disappearing around the corner. Weak groans and pain-filled sighs greeted his 
passage downward. 
I recoiled from the gory hole and looked back out into the temple itself. I could still 
hear the sounds of fighting, which made it tough for me to understand why no more 
gibberers had come for me. Across the way I saw the elf emerging from his stairwell, 
and below saw my comrades still at their defense. 
Toward the rear of the temple I saw something new. It came from the direction of the 
initial temeryx wave. At first all I saw was a golden glow that I didnt think was that 
intense, yet it painted the shadows of the gibberers running toward it on the wall with 
sharp contrast. It continued forward. Gibbers reeled away from it and collapsed on the 
ground bleeding from hideous wounds. 
Suddenly Leigh came into view wielding a golden sword. He lit into the gibberers with 
a cold ferocity Id never seen in him before. The blade came up and around, decapitating 
one gibberer, then swept down to parry another. A quick, double-handed slash opened 
that one from hip to hip, then Leigh danced to the left and sliced open two gibberers that 
had moved to flank him. 
I could recognize Leighs style of fighting in each cut. He did nothing we had not been 
trained to do, yet now managed it with more speed and skill than he had ever exhibited 
before. Low sweeps sliced up into thighs and groins, opening arteries, careful parries 
directed blades past him by just enough, then the ripostes would pierce a heart, 
perforate a bowel, or cut a throat with the ease of slicing fruit. 
A vylaen moved out and around with magickal energy gathering in its hands. The elfs 
left hand flashed forward. The vylaens head snapped to the left, a silver star buried in its 
skull. It dropped to the ground, the spell it had failed to cast at Leigh igniting its paws. 
The elf howled and crouched on the priests-walk like a gargoyle. His inhuman scream 
and Leighs golden harvest seemed to unnerve the gibberers. In retrospect I came to 
realize 
that the death of the vylaens had really broken the horde. Without their 
leadership exerting magickal influence over them, the gibberers native cowardice 
flourished. The force pressed around the survivors breastwork eroded and fled. I turned 
to the windows through which Id originally shot at their horde and watched the 
gibberkin fade into Atvals shadows. 
I looked over, but the elf was gone. I gingerly made my way down the stairs Id 
defended. I passed a dozen bodies, ignoring feeble whimpers or bubbling of shallow 
breaths. The sheer stink of blood and gibberer and waste, where dying creatures 
lost all 
control of bladder and bowel, was enough to gag me. I swallowed my rising gorge back 
down, then started to slip in a pool of blood as I crossed the temple floor. 
A strong hand caught me by the back of my mail and held me up. I glanced at the elf. 
Thank you.

He nodded, then looked at the trail of bodies strewn on the stairs. Good work. 
Work, yes. Butchery, not warfare. 
The elf arched an eyebrow at me. A butcher would have died in the doorway. The 
warrior in you learned to defend the stairs. 
How did you know? 
Read the sign. You defended the door at first and were chased off. He coughed into 
his left hand. You did well. You will have my name first. I am Resolute. 
I stared at him for a heartbeat, surprised by his name. The elves Id heard of, in 
stories, in songs, all had names that were long and kind of curved around in the mouth. 
Rondelcyn or Arianvelle, Simsaran, and Winfellis. Resolute, given what little I knew of 
elves, just wasnt an elven name at all. 
Resolute folded his arms over his broad breast. You have a name? 
Yes, sorry. Hawkins, Tarrant Hawkins. Iweare from Valsina. 
The elf reached out and flicked a finger against the temeryx feather I had tied to my 
moonmask. Decoration? 
I earned it. 
Indeed? 
With my friends. I pointed off to where everyone was emerging from behind the 
breastwork. Come on. 
Walking over there I noticed several things. The first was that far fewer of our 
company had survived than I would have expected. Heslins left arm dangled uselessly 
from his shoulder and all the bandaging in the world couldnt hide the funny angle of his 
forearm. Lord Norrington and Nay walked as if they were asleep on their feet. One of 
Heslins apprentices had survived and four of the soldiers. 
Leigh sat on the temple floor, his hands clutching the golden swords crosshilt. Hed 
bowed his head forward so his crown touched the flat of the blade and his chest heaved. 
As I drew closer I could hear him sobbing, and the sound tightened 
my throat, too. 
Lord Norrington crossed to Leigh and knelt beside him. They spoke in hushed tones 
and Leigh nodded once. His father 
patted him on the back of the head, then slowly 
stood and walked toward me. You are unhurt? 
Couple of bruises, nothing serious, my lord. I nodded toward Resolute. Id have 
been a gibberer meal if not for him. 
Lord Norrington pulled off a bloody gauntlet and extended his right hand. Kenwick 
Norrington. Thanks for saving him. 
Resolute took Lord Norringtons hand in his. I once met a Marlborough Norrington of 
Oriosa. 
My fathers elder brother. 
Dead now? 
Ten years, at least. 
The elf nodded slowly. I am Resolute. Who is the boy with the sword? 
Lord Norrington half turned toward Leigh and smiled. Hes my son, Bosleigh. 
Oh. The elfs comment came flat and heavy. 
I frowned. Why, whats the matter? 
Nothing, unless that blade is the one I think it is. Resolute 
shrugged. If it is, well, 
it is a tragedy for someone to be the walking dead so young. 
I shuddered and suddenly felt the cold, sticky wetness of the blood soaking my 
clothes and spattered across my face. I stank of death and any euphoria that my survival 
might have sparked in me died with Resolutes statement. I looked around the temple 
and saw doom and death and pain. Somehow Leighs tears struck me as the most 
appropriate reaction to all wed been through. 
I walked over to him, with Lord Norrington and Resolute following me. I stepped over

a beheaded gibberer and reached out for Leigh. My right hand trembled even before it 
touched him, but his sobs flowed up my arm and tightened my chest. I dropped to my 
knees beside him, threw an arm over his shoulders, 
and touched my forehead to his left 
temple. 
We have survived this, Leigh. We will continue to survive it. 
His helm grated against mine as he turned to look at me with one red-rimmed eye. I 
know. Slay or be slain, and we slew. 
Lots and lots, yeah. I squeezed his shoulders. Well get through this. Its over, 
theres no need for tears. 
Leigh chuckled once, his chest heaving with the effort. You think Im crying because 
of this slaughter? 
Arent you? 
No. He twisted to face me and clutched the sword to his chest. My tears come 
because, my dear friend, it was all so perfect. Each cut, each parry. I knew where their 
attacks were coming from and I had a legion of options open to me. It was magnificent, 
Hawkins, more than I could have imagined. More than I could have dreamed of and now 
its over. I cry because I will never know that sort of perfection again. 
Oh. I see. I reared back onto my haunches, then stood. I didnt exactly hear glee in 
his voice, but closeand no regret at all. He sat there, Aurolani blood dripping from 
him, streaking 
his face, remembering, recapturing all hed done. I felt a chill run up my 
spine, then reached down and hauled him to his feet. 
Leigh looked at his bloody backtrail and nodded slowly. Without saying anything he 
turned at looked at his father as Lord Norrington and Resolute joined us. 
The elf held a hand out. The sword. 
Leighs eyes narrowed and he hugged the blade tighter. As he twisted away from 
Resolute, I got my first really good look at the weapon. The golden blade ran straight 
from a simple gold crosshilt for about two-thirds of its length. The last third of it tapered 
down into a very sharp point, though the point itself had been thickened to aid in 
punching through mail with a lunge. Worked along the blade were odd symbols that 
consisted mostly of loops, curves, coils, and hooks. The hilt itself had been wrapped in 
leather that had been dyed purple and the round pommel cap housed a purple stone that 
sparkled 
with a rainbow of colored specks at its heart. 
Bosleigh, let him see it. He does not want it, he merely wants to identify it. 
Yes, Father. Leigh turned back and extended the blade toward Resolute. Do you 
know it? 
The elf studied it wordlessly. His silver eyes had no pupils, so it was difficult to tell 
where he was looking. He twisted his head this way and that, suggesting to me that he 
was reading the sigils right-side up then upside down. As he was doing this I noted that 
one of the tattoos on his right forearm seemed to be written in a very similar script. 
Resolutes head came up. Where did you get it? 
Leigh pointed back down along the trail of bodies hed left in his wake. There. 
Show me. 
Leigh started off and we followed. I had gone back here looking for other entrances. 
I went down these stairs and along a passage I saw a symbol I recognized. 
As Leigh pointed to the wall I saw the symbol used to mark a Fledglings entrance to a 
Phoenix Knight meeting hall. Given how bricks had been set in the wall, cracks in the 
mortar precisely mimicked the symbol wed been taught. I glanced over at Lord 
Norrington, fully expecting him to signal me to turn a blind eye, but he did not. 
Resolute peered closely at the wall, then pulled out a small poniard and used the 
sharp blade to scrape away more mortar from a brick running beneath the horizontal 
line. His excavation 
outlined the brick completely. You touched this brick?

Yes. 
The elf pressed his hand against it. A little further down the passage a portion of wall 
withdrew into the ceiling. The three of us followed Resolute into a moderate-sized 
chamber. In it we found a stone bier that had the lid shifted around to lie across the foot 
of the enclosure housing a skeleton. 
Leigh pointed to the lid. I didnt touch it. It was this way when I found it. The 
skeleton was holding the sword against its chest. I just felt a need to pick it up. When I 
did, I knew what I had to do. I stalked from here and started killing gib-berkin. 
Resolute blew dust from the sarcophagus lid, then ran his fingertips over the runes 
incised into it. A mystery ended. 
Lord Norrington looked at the runes, but shook his head. I cant read it. Would you 
care to explain? 
The elf pulled himself up to his full height, which meant his hair brushed the 
chambers ceiling. Behold Atvals last ruler. Baron Dordin Ore. He distinguished himself 
in battle because of a magickal sword of great antiquity. He believed himself invincible, 
believed he could slay dragons. He did get one . . . 
My jaw opened. So he was the reason Atval refused to pay the tribute? He made the 
dragons destroy Atval? 
He did, or that blade did. Resolute pointed to the sword. The script, normally the 
sigils are bilaterally symmetrical one side mirrors the other. Here they do not, allowing 
them to be read as one thing one way and another the other way. Ascending from the 
hilt it reads hero, but descending it reads tragedy.  
Leighs lower lip quivered. What does that mean? 
This blade has a long history. It has various namesbut Temmer is the most 
common one. Its said that, aeons ago, a mortal heroan elf, an urZrethi, a man, it 
doesnt matter whocame to the weirun of a volcano and asked it to fashion a sword 
that would make the hero invincible in battle. The weirun cautioned that for such a blade 
to exist, a fearful price had to be paid. The hero said he would pay it, and the weirun 
created Temmer. When drawn, the wielder is invincible in combat. 
Lord Norrington somehow kept his voice even. And the price? 
The sword consumes the wielder. Resolutes words came so matter-of-factly that it 
took a moment for me to understand 
the serious difficulty they implied. He is as good 
as dead now. 
Leighs father brought his head up. The blade will kill him? Hell die, absolutely? The 
legend says that? 
That is one way the tales can be read. All agree, though, that the last battle will 
break the wielder. He will be destroyed. Physically, mentally, emotionally, it doesnt 
matter, he will be crushed. Your son will not survive his association with the blade. 
Resolute turned and pointed at the blade. It is yours now, Bosleigh Norrington. You 
accepted it. You blooded it. It is yours until it destroys you. 
Lord Norrington sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping a bit. I felt my stomach 
folding in on itself and looked at Leigh, expecting to see horror filling his expression. 
Leigh smiled almost placidly, drew the sword hed carried from Valsina, and slid 
Temmer home in its place. Though I would have sworn Temmer was a good handspan 
longer than his other sword, it fit the scabbard perfectly. There are Auro-lani forces 
about in Oriosa. I think it is good this weapon is no longer hidden. The cost be 
damned. 
I rested a hand on my friends shoulder. Leigh, didnt you hear what he said? 
Resolute watched Leigh closely. If the tales are true, the others knew of the bargain 
they made before they accepted the blade. Perhaps your ignorance and innocence will 
shield you.

Perhaps. Leigh shrugged carelessly, stroking the blades hilt with his hand. He 
smiled, then headed back out of the chamber. With Temmer in my hand, well exact a 
great blood toll from the Aurolani. Compared to that, the cost of using the sword is 
nothing. 
The rest of us followed him in silence. 
In the temple we freed our dead from the mounds of gib-berkin. We sorted through 
everything, recovering what weapons 
and other useful items we could find. We would 
send the personal effects of each soldier back to his family, so we packaged 
them up 
separately. Once the bodies had been stripped, we piled them together and Heslins one 
surviving apprentice, Shales, used a spell to burn them. 
We also sorted through the Aurolani bodies. I tugged the throwing weapon Resolute 
had used on one vylaen from its skull. The device consisted of two-inch-long blade 
segments broken off Aurolani longknives, welded to a central hub. The blades were 
razor sharp, and the blood-grooves down their middle had been filled with a dark 
substance I took to be poison. 
I carried it over to where he knelt among the gibberkin hed slain. He looked up at 
me, his hands never pausing as he scalped a gibberer. You neednt have. 
I thought you might want it. 
He shook his head and moved to another body to scalp it. Ill make more from the 
longknives here. Leave it. I want them to know Resolute was here. 
How did you come to be here? 
He shrugged. I spend my time hunting in the Ghost Marches. I cut across sign of 
creatures heading south. I trailed them. Ambushed some, found others. A week ago the 
pace picked up, they started coming for Atval. I followed. 
Why the scalps? Collecting them for a bounty? 
A bounty? No, I have no need for such. Resolute bent to his work, cutting across 
the brow and along over the ears. He ripped the scalp back, then trimmed it at the base 
of the skull with a single stroke. I have use for them. You can take yours. 
I glanced back at the pile Id killed. Maybe. I have a question 
for you. 
Another one? 
I looked at him and nodded. What you did with that gibberer from the garden . . . 
the tattoo on your arm, it looked like Fesyins Mark. 
Resolute stabbed his poniard into a gibberer corpse to hold it, then touched the tattoo 
I mentioned. Fesyins Mark; yes, it is something like that. Your Fesyin, shes but a pale 
shadow of some things older and darker. I am from Vorquellyn, and without a homeland 
to pledge myself to, I have chosen other patrons. 
His chin came up. And what I did to that gibberer was magick. That gibberer, 
according to the clan tattoo on his lower lip, was born on Vorquellyn. He was bound to 
the island, 
which gave me a link into him. He was mine to use. I sent him after his 
leader. 
But youre a warrior. A warrior cant use magick. 
Perhaps not a human warrior. I am under no such restriction. 
He waved me away with a flick of his left hand. Go away, Hawkins. See to what you 
must so we can vacate this place. If dragons are coming, we want to be well away before 
they get here. 
Despite being bone-weary and sore, we gathered our horses and led them out of 
Atval before the sun rose. Despite being greatly discomfited by his broken arm, Heslin 
agreed with Resolutes suggestion that the dragons prohibition about allowing anything 
to take up residence in Atval meant people might have been able to spend at least a full 
day there before triggering reprisals. After all, allowing people to travel through the city 
and to see the destruction would go a long way to letting the story of the city spread far

and wide. 
Our band of twenty-one people had been cut in half, with our only advantage now 
that we had plenty of provisions and more than enough horses to carry us to Yslin. 
Resolute elected to travel with us, bringing his string of three horses along. He opted for 
riding at the rear of our formation to watch for signs of the Aurolani stragglers. 
It took us just shy a weekeight days, to be preciseto reach Yslin. Traffic picked up 
along the border road heading southwest, but we kept to ourselves as much as possible. 
We did not find it very difficult to do that since, as bedraggled as we were, there were 
groups who probably figured us for bandits 
and so kept their distance. This suited us, 
of course, since any recounting of our experiences would have started rumors that could 
have resulted in a panic. 
We had a discussion about that one night. I asked Lord Norrington if we shouldnt 
inform the Peacewards in the various 
villages about the potential for attacks by Aurolani 
forces. After all, my father was working in Valsina to guard against such things. Without 
a warning, various villages could have been overwhelmed by the kinds of bands wed 
faced. 
Lord Norrington ran a hand over his unshaven jaw. Giving 
them warning might well 
save lives, but only if they put that knowledge to good use. To do that they need 
leadership, and since the leaders of Oriosa have yet to be told what is happening, there 
is no way to provide such leadership. 
But Peacewards in each town should be those leaders, shouldnt they? 
Yes, Tarrant, they should. He gave me a gentle smile. Your father, for example, is 
capable of being such a leader. Hes the reason Im confident that Valsina will be safe. 
Your father is a warrior, so he knows what to do in the case of an attack. What would he 
do if he heard that Beljoz were being raided? 
That village isnt far from Valsina, so I suspect hed raise a company of men and ride 
out to help. 
Exactly. Lord Norrington took a long pull on a water-skin. Your father knows that 
stopping the Aurolani raiders there is better than stopping them at Valsina, but again, 
hes a warrior. The same is not true of most village Peacewards. They might gather a 
handful of men to defend their own village, but theyd not dare head out to save others. 
On the other hand, if the queen issues an edict that requires each county to raise a 
militia, house it in a central village, and dispatch it to any trouble spots, well, then, the 
sort of thing that has to happen to deal with this problem will happen. 
Resolute snapped a stick in half and pitched the smaller piece into the fire. You 
advocate the good of the many over the good of the few. 
In this case, yes. 
Yet it is the same idea which has left my homeland under Aurolani control. 
Lord Norrington scratched at his cheek. I disagree with how certain individuals have 
defined the good of the many in the case of Vorquellyn or the Ghost Marches or even the 
Black Marches. Too many see the presence of Fortress Draconis as a deterrent to an 
invasion, despite the fact that a century ago it did not stop Kreechuc. A single Aurolani 
outpost south of the Boreal Mountains is an invitation to campaign over the rest of the 
world. 
Reflection of golden flames danced in Resolutes eyes. Have you influence over your 
leaders? 
Can I get them to mount an expedition to liberate Vorquellyn? 
Lord Norrington 
slowly shook his head. My past attempts have been futile, but never before have I come 
armed with the evidence I have now of Aurolani probing. That they could slip so far 
south without an alarm being raised is chill-ing.J Peace is an illusion. Resolute opened 
his arms to take the entire company in. We know the war is coming. We have fought

the first battle. Yet our evidence will be denied. 
No, I wont let that happen. Norrington held up a hand. I pledge to you that I will 
do all I can to get an expedition mounted to free Vorquellyn. 
Resolute slowly shook his head. The sincere pursuit of an impossible task does not 
guarantee victory. 
Yet hell do it. Well do it. I likewise raised a hand. I give you my oath, Resolute, on 
my honor and life, and before all the gods in creation. Ill see Vorquellyn liberated in my 
lifetime. 
The elf threw back his head and laughed. My cheeks burned with shame at what I 
took to be ridicule. As the elf looked at me again he must have read the pain on my face, 
because he cut his laughter off abruptly. 
He glanced at Lord Norrington. These youths you have with you, they are a valiant 
lot. Theyre also naive. 
I know what I said, Resolute, and I stand by it. 
Do you? The elf stared at me with argent eyes. When you make such an oath it not 
only binds you, but binds all youve sworn by. You have set great forces into motion, 
forces that will batter you, abuse you, and torture you. They will hate you for what you 
have done. They will do everything they can to crush you. And if they do, you fail. 
I sat up straight. Resolute, you lost your homeland back in the days of my 
great-grandfather, but youve not stopped fighting. Now the Aurolani threaten my home, 
threaten me with losing everything. Nothing in the oath I have given you could be worse 
than that. The only way we defeat them is to drive them back north of the mountains, 
and that I will do. 
I shall hope you are right, Tarrant Hawkins. The elf nodded to me solemnly. But 
less for my sake than for your own. 
Tt iding as we did past isolated crofts and through tiny vil-|| lages, 1 began to feel a 
bit sad for the people doomed to live 1t in those places. After all, I came from the city of 
Valsina, and on this journey alone Id seen more of the world than they ever would. Id 
had all the cultural advantages of growing up in a city where theatre and art were 
available, and where the rise and setting of the sun did not dictate my schedule. 
In short, as I saw their grubby facesand that was the whole of their faces, since 
scant few of them had the right to take a maskI thought myself sophisticated. 
Then I saw the Alcidese capital, Yslin. 
The first thing I noticed as we rode in from the northeast was that it was big. Three 
or four Valsinas could have fit inside the outer walls, and the city sprawled well beyond 
them. The whole festival had occupied a meadow to the south of the city, extending its 
boundaries even further. From miles out I could easily recognize three fortresses in the 
city that were the equivalent 
of Valsinas Old Town, and multiple temple districts as well 
as markets. 
Huge mansions dotted the hillsides that gracefully sloped down to the sea. Each one 
of the mansions was large enough to make Lord Norringtons estate seem a carriage 
house. In the center of the city I saw buildings that rose three and four stories, and they 
werent just temples and forts, but buildings owned by people, with shops on the ground 
floor and dwellings 
up above. And they even housed people who didnt work in the 
attached shops, but who worked elsewhere. 
Yslin also had a seaport, which Id not seen before, and the ocean was impressive as 
well. The day we arrived was somewhat 
overcast, with a breeze coming down from the 
north, so the surf was pounding the beach. The water looked all grey and angry, with 
hints of green and blue. In the distance I could see islands, but unlike the lakes near 
Valsina, I couldnt see the farther shore. 
A lot of ships, large and small, bobbed in the bay. Long wharves allowed them to

load and unload their cargoes into the warehouses located right on the shorefront. In 
that same area I could see miles of fishing nets hung up to dry, and a fish market that 
appeared to be very busy. 
A hundred other curiosities caught my attention, but none as quickly as the beautifully 
colored spheres drifting above the city. They were captured in a net attached to a basket, 
and a line tethered the whole thing to the groundResolute claimed to have seen one of 
the contraptions before and called it a balloon. A couple of these balloons flew over the 
festival grounds. The regularity with which they rose and fell suggested 
someone was 
collecting money to provide rides. 
Another fascination was the baskets hanging from cables strung between the 
fortresses and other towering buildings. The baskets, which appeared to carry people, 
moved along the cable from one point to another. They must have been on some sort of 
a loop because a basket heading one way would pass another at the same sedate rate of 
travel. The view from there had to be that of a bird on the wing, and traveling that way 
undoubtedly beat sloshing through the mud and manure in the streets below. 
Lord Norrington led us around the city to the south. He and Leigh left us at the edge 
of the festival area and rode in to make inquiries at several pavilions flying the 
white-hawk-on-green-field flag of Oriosa. Within an hour they returned. Lord Norrington 
gave Cooper directions concerning where our horses would be stabled, then led the rest 
of us into the city, to an inn called the One-legged Frog. We took our accommodations 
there, with Lord Norrington, Heslin, and Shales getting rooms; Leigh, Nay, and I shared 
a smaller one that did not have an overlarge bed. 
Resolute left us then, despite Lord Norrington having offered 
to get him a room as 
well. Promising he would see us again, he headed deeper into the city. The inns 
proprietor, Quint Severus, said Resolute would find a place with his own people in the 
Downs, which I took be a portion of the city catering to elves. I didnt ask if that 
assumption was true, though, not wanting to reveal my ignorance. 
The toughest thing to get used to in Yslin, and all of Alcida for that matter, was that 
the folks didnt wear masks. Of course not everyone in Oriosa wore masks, but they 
were all latecomers and mostly peasants. They would defer to anyone in a mask, and 
wed grown up knowing how to deal with the unmasked. Here in Yslin, however, a 
Count or Baron or Duke who outranked Lord Norrington would be as barefaced as a 
thief, so figuring how to deal with them was tough. On top of that, we were seen as 
curiosities, with folks pointing and murmuring 
behind their hands. 
It might have seemed that dealing with Resolutes being maskless would have made 
the transition easier, but it didnt. While the elf didnt wear a mask, the tattoos on his 
body seemed to serve many of the same functions. Resolute himself seemed to be a 
mask dropped over an elfs outline, and while we did spend a lot of time with him, I 
never did feel Id gotten anything close to a glimpse of who he really was. 
Once in our room, in keeping with Lord Norringtons instructions, 
we ordered up a 
tub and enough hot water to bathe. The three of us drew lots and I was lucky enough to 
win the right to use the bath first. I scrubbed myself good and hard, leaving my skin all 
red and tingling. Getting out of the bath, I wrapped a towel around myself and brought 
one end of it up to form a hood that hid my bare face from the other two. 
Carrying my moonmask in my right hand, I retreated to the far corner of the room 
and sat with my back to Leigh and Nay. Using a small bowl, a little water, some saddle 
soap and a brush, I cleaned up my moonmask. I couldnt get all the blood off it, so a 
faint dappling remained. It kind of reminded me of the spots mottling a gibberers pelt, 
so I didnt mind it too much. The temeryx feather shed the blood on it very easily and 
retained its raven-black color. 
I tied the mask back on, being sure to catch a strand or two of hair in the knot. I

dressed hurriedly in the least soiled of the road clothes I had, then went down to the 
inns tavern. I ordered a tankard of a local ale that, I discovered, had a sharp, woody bite 
yet was sweet enough to avoid being bitter. I also got some bread, cheese, and a big 
bowl of chicken soup which made up for in vegetables what it lacked in actual bird flesh. 
Nay and Leigh came down one after another. Nay had half-finished his meal when 
Leigh arrived, but before Leigh could order food, his father returned to the inn trailed by 
two masked servants wearing red-and-blue jerkins, marking them as being in service to 
the royal house. The two of them bore overstuffed sacks which they took up to our 
room. Lord Norrington 
bid us follow them and he brought up the rear. The servants 
deposited their burdens then departed, leaving the four of us alone in the room. 
Ive been to see the queen. Lord Norrington turned from the door hed just shut. I 
wasnt able to speak with her, but I did have a conversation with her chamberlain, Duke 
Reed Larner. I told him our reasons for being here and he said he had heard rumors of 
similar sightings from other festival delegations. 
He believes that for the first time in a 
long time the festival meetings will have something important to discuss. Until that time 
comes, however, we are to say nothing of what we have seen or experienced. 
I fingered my temeryx feather. What if someone asks why we are wearing these 
feathers? 
The War of the Ravens tale worked well on the road. Give it life for a bit longer, 
boys. Lord Norringtons brown eyes hardened for a moment. You know Id not make 
that sort of request if it were not important. What we have done so far has been simple 
because we were facing an enemy who wanted to kill us, and we had to prevent that. It 
is my hope that the leaders of the worlds nations will see that is what the Aurolani 
forces want to do to us. As I result I hope they will unite to fight them, but between 
where we are now and that goal is a slippery battlefield where politics is more valuable 
than swordsmanship. Until our queen can decide how and where to exert pressure to get 
others to go along with her plansplans that will safeguard Oriosa while destroying the 
threatshe needs our information to be withheld. 
Well, that ruins my plans. Leigh snorted with exaggerated 
disgust. Here I had 
decided to spend the evening earning 
drink and coin by reciting my opus, How to Vex a 
Temeryx.  
His father laughed. Well, I would hardly wish to spoil your fun, but just on the off 
chance that your poetry would cause the common folk here to riot, I have to inform you 
that you will not be free this evening. It turns out that we have arrived on the day that 
Oriosa hosts a feast. Protocol demands we attend. 
Leighs head came up and his eyes brightened. If we must, I suppose we must. 
Nay jerked his head toward me. Hawkins and me, well wander about then and size 
up your competition among poets. 
While that would likely be more fun than this reception, thats not possible. Lord 
Norrington sighed. Since we all have knowledge of what happened at Atval, Cooper and 
the others will be reporting to the barracks housing the queens honor guard. Heslin and 
his apprentice are meeting with the Masters of Magick in the citys Arcanorium. Leigh and 
I will attend the feast, and you two will accompany us as our aides. Duke Larner said he 
couldnt imagine a Norrington being present without a Hawkins at his side and decided 
that Leigh could also not be present without an aide. The duke had servants 
rifle other 
nobles baggage for suitable attire for us. Get dressed; theyre sending a coach for us 
inside the hour. Well go, youll speak only when it is demanded of you and, if you can, 
enjoy yourselves. 
To our surprise all of us managed to find clothing that fit pretty well. I ended up with 
a blue pair of trousers, a red silk shirt, and a black leather jerkin with blue trim. I got 
one of the innkeepers boys to apply lampblack and wax to my boots, which made them

shiny, and I ended up looking quite sharp. Nay received red pants, a blue shirt, and a 
black jerkin, and Leigh managed to dress in red from knees to throat and wrists. 
In the coach on the way to the feast, which was being held in the Grand Hall of 
Fortress Gryps, we got a quick lesson in protocol. As far as Nay and I were concerned, 
we were outranked 
by everyone who would be present save the serving staffand both 
of us knew better than to want to anger them by being presumptuous. Leigh bristled a 
bit when informed he only outranked us. Still, being of noble blood, he would be 
announced and would be expected to offer his good wishes for the festival. 
Leigh sat back to figure out what he was going to say, and I could see the gleam in 
his eyes. I had no doubt he was trying to dream up some sort of rhyme, and I hoped it 
would be a good one. Somehow I didnt think he was getting the full import of where we 
were going or what we would be doing. I mean, I was just going to be standing around 
trying my best to be out of the way, and I was pretty sure that was well beyond my 
ability to handle. 
We arrived rather quickly and were ushered into a side hall. Fortress Gryps, which was 
the nearest of the three to the docks, had a massive stone block construction that 
seemed to be scornful of anyone mounting an assault against it. Stout columns upheld 
vaulted ceilings which seemed to me to be the product of later renovations, since the 
stones used were different 
from those in the walls. Windows had been fitted with 
stained glass, which must have been magnificent in the daytime, 
but was hardly the sort 
of thing the original builders would have put into a fort. Fortress Gryps almost seemed 
to be an old warrior in the twilight of his life, now given to entertaining younger 
generations with stories of the past. 
Slowly people started to file from the side hall on into the Grand Hall. As we got 
closer to the front, after nearly an hour of waiting, I could hear someone announcing 
each party. As we got to the point where we could see what was going on, it became 
apparent things happened exactly the way Lord Nor-rington said they would. He would 
be announced, Id trail behind him, hed drop to one knee before the queen, give her a 
greeting, and then move on. 
Finally we reached the head of the line. The chamberlain, a maskless, skinny man 
with a few strands of black hair on his head and a handful more of teeth in his head, 
tapped a staff against the floor. May I present Lord Kenwick Norrington of Valsina, from 
Oriosa. 
Though Lord Norrington wore borrowed clothes like the rest of us, he had brought 
with himas was his right and dutythe formal mask he was privileged to wear. It 
marked him as a grand warrior and stalwart leader of men. Though many of the guests 
arrived in finery the like of which Id never seen before and would likely never see again, 
none of them looked as impressive as Lord Norrington. 
The mask covered him from the corners of his mouth, back up over his head and 
flowed down into a full cape. It had been created from the skin of a temeryx hed slain. 
The white feathers reflected a rainbow of lights with the delicacy of an oil-film on still 
water, always shifting as he moved. Battle ribbons 
had been eschewed and instead 
certain of the feathers at the crown had been stained the appropriate colors. A 
white-gold clasp held it closed at his throat and the entire cloak closed down around him 
as he sank to one knee before the queen and lowered his head. 
Majesty, it is an honor to be in your presence, as it is to be in your service. It is my 
hope that your festival will prove profitable and auger a future free of fear and full of 
prosperity. 
Queen Lanivette, slender and elegant, regarded Lord Norrington 
with piercing blue 
eyes. Her white hair seemed a match for his cloak, and the smile slowly growing on her 
face a match for Lord Norringtons grace. She leaned forward and stroked the feathers

hiding his left cheek. 
Kenwick, you are always one of my favorites. Seeing you is a pleasure, doubled when 
it is unexpected. Her words came low in tone and barely above a whisper, but somehow 
it seemed as if everyone knew she was pleased with him. We will find time to speak 
more, later. 
Lord Norrington stood, then moved to the right, and I followed in his shadow. I 
turned back to watch Leigh be announced 
and wondered at the poem hed offer, but all 
I could see was some commotion. A tall figure eclipsed Leigh and stalked forward. He 
wore buckskins the color of mustard for boots, trousers, and a sleeveless jerkin that had 
only loosely been laced up the front. The tattoos on his arms and his shock of white hair 
confirmed that he was Resolute, and I wondered why Id not identified him immediately. 
A seconds thought told me the answer because Resolute stalked forward in a 
patchwork furred cloak with no lining. It flapped back on itself, then snapped forward 
against his legs. It had been sewn together with rawhide strips, and as he drew close I 
realized the mottled fur came from the scalps hed harvested from gibberers. 
Resolute stopped on the spot where Lord Norrington had stopped, but did not lower 
himself to a knee. He pressed his right hand to his breastbone and looked about, taking 
in not only Queen Lanivette, her son, Scrainwood, and daughter, Ryhope, but all of the 
various royals and nobles who had been announced before us. He nodded once, slowly, 
then spoke. 
I am Resolute. I am Vorquelf. I have no rank or standing, yet I am here. He lowered 
his hand and allowed the gibberer cloak to close over him. I am come to tell you all that 
Auro-lani forces have ranged even into Oriosa, as far south as Atval, and I demand to 
know what you will do to end this scourge once and for all time. 
A ueen Lanivette rose from her chair, restraining her son by I I pressing her right 
hand to his shoulder. A sapphire ring on Y one finger matched the huge sapphire 
hanging about her neck, and both complimented the blue satin gown that swished as she 
stood. She lifted her chin and smiled, though her eyes tightened beneath her mask. 
She kept her voice even, but enough fire came through it to make me wince for 
Resolutes sake. I am not unaware of what you allege. It is my intention to speak with 
my fellow rulers on this matter. 
Talk is all you have done, for three of your generations. Resolute thrust a finger 
toward Lord Norrington and me. Ask them what good talk is against gibberers and 
vylaens and temeryces. A century ago I was unhomed, and in that century I have heard 
an eternity of words. I have never seen action. 
Before the queen could respond, another elf slipped between 
courtiers and spoke 
rapidly to Resolute in a tongue that, while lyrical, had been sharpened with edges that 
were meant to cut. The male elf stood not quite as tall as Resolute, and likely weighed a 
third less than the well-muscled elf. The willowy 
slenderness of his form was repeated 
in the fineness of the long black hair that flowed over his shoulders and down the 
breasts of his dark blue satin coat. His clothes had been styled similarly to those Leigh 
had worn to the gala, though the lace shirt and the stockings were red, covering the elf 
in colors that honored the Oriosan royal house. 
Most remarkable about him was that his eyes appeared to be very human. They had a 
pupil and the majority of the color had been locked into a tight band around it. While his 
eyes never approached true white because of the hint of gold still there, the vibrancy of 
the gold in his iris gave his stare a metallic intensity as harsh as a summer sun at noon. 
It sharpened 
his fair features and even seemed to make him taller. 
Resolute barely turned his head toward him, almost like a dog casting a baleful glance 
at a cruel master. In the common tongue, so they can understand. 
The other elf pressed his left hand over his heart and bowed his head to the queen.

You will please forgive this Vorquelf. He has not learned restraint or proper conduct. 
I know exactly what proper conduct is 
Be silent, nephew. 
Resolute turned toward the other elf. How dare you command 
me, grandfather? 
You are as guilty in this as they are. 
The dark-haired elf again spoke to Resolute in what I took to be Elvish. Resolute 
replied in kind and a series of quick, sharp exchanges ensued. Resolute clearly intended 
his words to hurt, but the other elf remained unaffected by them. His replies, little by 
slowly, took temper out of Resolutes anger. The Vorquelf pointed a finger at his 
opponent, said something, 
then spun on his heel and stalked back out. 
The remaining elf immediately dropped to a knee and bowed his head. I beg your 
understanding, Queen Lanivette, and your forgiveness. There is no excuse for this, save 
that the Vorquelves lack maturity. They fail to see reason or to understand 
things. 
The queen smiled indulgently at the elf. It is of no consequence, 
good Jentellin. I, 
too, deal with those who know the impulsiveness of youth. She smiled at her son and 
daughter. 
I was feeling very confused and turned to Lord Norrington. 
I dont understand. The 
one elf called Resolute his nephew, but Resolute called him grandfather. And theyre 
talking about Resolute like hes some child at least a handful of years from getting his 
moonmask. 
Its complicated, Hawkins, and Im not certain of all of it myself. He smiled down at 
me. Forgive me, Tarrant, for addressing you as I would your father. 
I shrugged and smiled. I dont mind. I hope I can serve you as well as he does. 
Im sure you will. Youll serve me and serve Leigh as your father served my father 
before he served me. With a Hawkins to support him, a Norrington will not fail. Lord 
Norrington gave me a nod, then turned to address the elf approaching us. He placed his 
right hand over his heart as he greeted the elf. My lord Jentellin, it is a pleasure. 
Jentellin crossed his hands over his heart. A pleasure as well, Lord Norrington. And 
this, your aide, would be a Hawkins? 
Tarrant, yes. You met his father, I believe, twenty years ago or so? 
When the festival was held in Jerana; yes, I remember. Please convey my greetings 
to your father when you see him next. 
I will, sir. I mean, my lord. I belatedly brought my hands over my heart, still 
surprised to know my father had met an elf. Granted, it was before I was born, but I 
would have thought he would mention it. 
Jentellin smiled at me, then looked at Lord Norrington. The Vorquelf indicated you 
had seen what he saw. Shall I take the temeryx feather on young Hawkins moonmask to 
be proof of this? 
Just proof of the beginning, but not of what we saw or did in Atval. I understand 
your anger with Resolute, but if not for him, we would likely have died at Atval. 
Yes, Resolute saved me, and if not for Leigh and his sword ... I stopped in 
midsentence as Lord Norrington touched a finger to his closed left eye. 
The elf drew back and clasped his hands behind his back. A sword, found in Atval? I 
would know more. 
And you shall, I imagine, sooner rather than later. A question for a question? My 
aide asked about your treatment of Resolute. 
The elf arched an eyebrow at me. What do you wish to know? 
You treated him as if he was a child. 
Thats because he is a child. 
I frowned. But hes over a century old. 
Lord Norrington laughed. Age has nothing to do with maturity, Hawkins. Look

around you and youll see greyhairs aplenty acting as if they are boys and girls once 
again. 
Well, I guess thats true. 
The elf chuckled quietly. Resolute, being a Vorquelf who was not bound to his 
homeland, is very much a child according 
to our laws and traditions. Our binding to the 
land of our birth is much akin to your Moon Month. It is a time in which we realize and 
accept our responsibility. It grounds us, gives us a foundation, and Resolute has been 
robbed of that foundation. 
He is very much a child, impulsive and reckless. 
His eyes, you noticed them. They are a childs eyes. They would have changed to be 
like mine with his binding to Vor-quellyn. Because he does not see through adult eyes, 
he sees things very simply. The elf smiled politely. I am grateful he saved you at Atval, 
and I can easily comprehend your positive feelings for him. 
Jentellin glanced at Lord Norrington. This sword you found . . . 
My son, Bosleigh, found it. 
Yes, your son. I take it the blade was remarkable? 
Lord Norrington slowly nodded. The blade is possessed of serious magick. Ive 
watched my son train with a sword and always dreamt he would master techniques, but 
I learned long ago that he would only ever be a fair swordsman. With this blade he 
becomes a masterevery technique he knows he performed with a precision Ive not 
seen in anyone before. 
Does the blade have a name? 
Resolute said it was called Temmer. 
The elf grew silent for a moment. And your son blooded it? 
Yes. 
Jentellins eyes closed and he mumbled something in Elvish. 
He reopened his eyes 
and gave Lord Norrington a slender smile. I am certain Resolute told you horrible things 
about the blade. It is a rather fell thing. It has been lost for seven centuries, but when 
last I saw it being employed, it had the effect on the wielder you describe. 
I did some quick mathematics in my head. Then you are over . . . but you dont look 
... no grey . . . um, I mean, well, yes, Resolute would be a child to you. 
The elfs smile broadened and rich laughter rolled from his throat. Yes, young 
Hawkins, I am that old and yet older. Much older. 
Are you actually Resolutes grandfather? 
No. Jentellins long, black hair shifted on his shoulders as he shook his head. In our 
tongue, the equivalent word is used as an honorific for elder males. My referring to him 
as nephew is because the same word in Elvish is used to address male youngers. 
Resolute is no blood relation of mine, though I do have a true nephew who is a 
Vorquelf, so I share Resolutes pain. 
A captain in the Queens Guards, if I read his mask right, came over and executed a 
crisp salute which Lord Norrington returned. My lords, the queen will be retiring for a 
bit and has requested your company. If you will follow me. 
My pleasure. Lord Norrington turned to me and laid a hand on my shoulder. Find 
my son and Nay. Keep them under control and tell them I have an audience with the 
queen. If I see you again before midnight we will return to the inn together, otherwise I 
will make my own way there. I will prepare orders for the morning as needed. Got it? 
I nodded, then folded my hands over my heart. It was an honor meeting you, Lord 
Jentellin. 
He covered his heart with his hands and replied with a nod, then the two of them 
departed with the soldier. I turned back toward the front of room, and after a moments 
searching, 
saw Nays red head above the crowd. I made for him and reached his side 
without difficulty.

He smiled when he saw me and offered me a goblet of wine. Was for Leigh, but hes 
occupied. 
I followed the line of Nays gaze and saw Leigh seated in a chair, surrounded by a 
half-dozen young women. Two wore masks, the rest did not, but none seemed older 
than us bv four yearssave perhaps the elf. I had no idea how old she was, but she 
looked the flower of youth, and since she was very slender and soft and not decorated 
with tattoos, I assumed she was not a Vorquelf. 
Leigh was flicking a finger against the temeryx feather hanging from his moonmask. 
Oh, yes, our adventures have been quite exciting, and quite dangerous. Id tell you all 
of them, but they are so horrifying I might make you faint dead away. I shudder to even 
think about some of the things Ive seen. 
My stomach roiled as the women began a sympathetic chorus of soothing remarks, 
which they followed quickly by fevered requests for details of his adventures. Leigh 
manfully resisted, allowing as how even thinking about thinking about what he had seen 
was enough to make him sweat. More sympathy 
gushed forth in response to that ploy, 
which Leigh lapped up like a kitten at cream. 
Well, my fair ladies, I would not want you to think me callous in resisting your 
entreaties. And I must say that I flatter myself to think myself a poet. I dabble in it, 
perhaps as a way to give me release from the horrible things Ive seen. Leigh closed his 
eyes, lowered his head and massaged his forehead with his left hand. When the redhead 
on his right began to rub his right temple, he smiled wearily at her and reopened his 
eyes. If you wish, I would share with you my latest. It is titled, How to Vex a Temeryx. 
 
I drained the goblet at one gulp. Leigh was all set to violate his fathers prohibition 
against speaking about our adventures. Granted, Resolutes outburst had destroyed any 
secrecy about what wed been through. Even so, Leigh was headed for trouble 
and my 
realization of that fact left a sour taste in my mouth. 
I quickly realized that the sour taste in my mouth was not entirely Leighs fault. Nays 
taste in wine was horrid. The vintage 
had burned on the way down, puckered the 
mouth, and seemed to be intent on bubbling its way back up. I glanced at Nay. How 
can you drink this stuff? Its one step from vinegar. 
Nay smiled. Got that for Leigh. He raised his goblet. Not the same thing in my 
cup. 
And you let me drink it? 
Figured the edge would help you think of something to do with Leigh. 
I nodded, handed him back the cup, and strode to Leighs side. My lord, are you 
going to spring your opus on them just like that? 
Leigh looked up, momentarily puzzled. Well, I had thought . . . 
Its a bit grim, isnt it? I smiled at the ladies surrounding him. Perhaps you would 
entertain them with something more witty. Name rhymes and the like. 
My friend nodded and tapped a finger against his nose. I dont know if he thought I 
wanted him to elicit their names so I could ask them to dance later or what, but he 
warmed to the suggestion of twisting their names into rhymes like a dog lying before a 
roaring fire. His initial efforts brought titters and giggles, which kept him going, and Nay 
handed him a goblet of wine to keep his mouth from going dry. 
I smiled at Nay. A few more cups of wine and he wont remember enough of his 
opus to get himself into trouble. 
Its a plan. Nay rested a hand on my shoulder as we headed off to get more wine. 
Saw you jawing with an elf. 
Lord Jentellin. I sighed and told Nay everything Id heard. He took it all in 
stonefaced, offering only an occasional grunt by way of comment. Leaves me feeling

kind of sorry for Resolute. 
Yeah, though Jentellin wasnt the only one being highhanded 
here. Nay jerked his 
head back toward Leigh, whose cortege had expanded and resounded with giggles. The 
spat made the doorman stop announcing folks, which riled Leigh, since he was deprived 
of his introduction. He got the way he does, ordered me to be a good aide and get me 
wine. Shouldnt have given it to you. 
I just want to know how long I have before the poison takes effect. 
We both shared a laugh over that, then began a search for a sweet wine that had a 
serious punch. Once we located one we returned to Leigh, who was now standing to 
recite his poems, and fed him goblet after goblet. Eventually he began to quiet down and 
restrict himself to spur of the moment, silly rhymes based on words his audience fed to 
him. By midnight he was asleep again, so we took him back to the inn, swaddled him in 
a blanket, and laid him on the floor. 
I asked Nay if we should actually do that, since there seemed to be some new straw in 
the bed, so it was softer than it had been when I first laid down on it that afternoon. If 
we leave him there, hell wake up all stiff and sore. 
Nay laughed. Oh, hell wake up a might worse than stiff and sore, but sleeping on 
the floor wont have anything to do with it. As long as hes going to be miserable, it 
might as well be on the floor. Dont need him sleeping with us because well need all the 
sleep we can get to deal with him tomorrow morning. orning did come early, but not as 
early for us as it did for Leigh. He looked quite ashen-faced and held his head in both 
hands as if it were an overripe pumpkin perched precariously on his shoulders. I would 
have been inclined to tease him, but the low moan he uttered reminded me that Nay and 
I had as much as poured gallons of wine down his throat. 
Got a wineskull cure. Nay quickly pulled on clothes and headed down to the taverns 
common room. Back in an eye-blink. 
Leigh crawled across the floor, leaving the blanket cocoon strung out behind him and 
slowly dragged himself up onto the bed. The way he was moving, even an eyeblink 
would be an eternity to him. He sagged facedown on the mattress, sweat pasting blond 
hair to his forehead. He turned and looked at me with his right eye. 
Did I make a total fool of myself? 
You didnt vomit in the carriage. 
Thats good. I meant at the feast. 
I pulled myself up against the headboard and hugged my knees to my chest. The 
ladies found you amusingtwo especially. 
I think they were from Okrannel. 
Tall and blonde, like Nolda Disper? 
That was them. I take it poetry is a novelty in Okrannel. 
Must be. Leigh closed his eye. Feels like theres a horde of gibberers in my head 
trying to hammer their way free. 
Set yourself at ease, Leigh. You did nothing to embarrass your father or Oriosa. 
The queen didnt see me? 
No, she was off meeting with your father. 
And the princess? 
I blinked and slapped him on the shoulder. You took a liking to her? But Ryhope has 
dark hair, not blonde. 
Ah, but those eyes, those blue eyes. Theyre as blue as ... as ... 
As blue as your eyes are red? Nay returned and kicked the door to the room shut 
behind him. He tossed me a small leather pouch that clinked with coins when I caught it, 
then he extended a steaming mug in Leighs direction. Come on, your worship, your 
cure is here. 
Leigh rolled over with the torpidity of a well-fed pig wallowing 
in slop and pulled

himself up enough that his shoulders 
touched the headboard. He reached for the mug, 
then sniffed it and pulled his hand back. That smells horrible. 
Its for drinking, not smelling. Nay shrugged and raised the mug toward his own 
lips. Feel better or dont. 
No, no, no, give it to me, give it to me. The enthusiasm with which Leigh started his 
command petered out at the end of it, but his fingers twitched energetically enough in 
the mugs direction. Nay made sure Leigh had his fingers firmly wrapped around the 
mugs barrel, then reached down and pinched Leighs nose shut. 
Have to drink it all, Leigh. One big drink. And chew the crunchy bits at the bottom. 
Leigh blew on the steaming liquid for a moment. From my vantage point it looked a 
dark purple, with little flecks of white floating around the edges. Leigh shrugged, closed 
his eyes and drank. His throat-knob bobbed up and down, and I saw a tear crawl down 
from beneath his moonmask, but he drained the cup, chewed for a moment and 
swallowed one last time. 
Nay released his nose and smiled. There you go. 
Leigh shook as if a snake had crawled up his pants leg. Gaaagh! That was horrible] 
My stomach feels on fire. He pointed a finger at Nay. How does it work? Make my 
stomach feel so bad my head feels good in comparison? 
Nay took the mug from him, inspected the bottom of it, then nodded. Just wine, 
garlic, willow bark, few other things. My mom does a brisk business in it after 
Mid-Summers galas and the like. 
I laughed as Leigh slumped back down on the bed and laid a forearm across his eyes. 
I opened the pouch and spilled a dozen silver coins into my lap. A folded piece of 
foolscap got stuck halfway, so I pulled it out and unfolded it. I read the message quickly, 
then tapped Leighs hand. 
Its from your father. 
Read it aloud. Nay cant read it, I wont read it. 
Nay frowned. I can read. Some. 
Its pretty simple. I cleared my throat.  Gentlemen, the present situation has made 
demands on my time, so I will be unavailable until midafternoon. The money enclosed is 
for you to use to enjoy the festival. Return here no later than four hours past noon. 
Yours, KN.  
Leighs arm shifted and he looked at me with one bright blue eye. Hes going to let 
us play? 
Thats what it says. 
Leigh laughed, sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Well, then, no 
sense in wasting time, is there, lads? 
I arched an eyebrow at him. I thought you were so close to dead we should be 
digging a grave. 
Leigh stood, wobbled for a moment, then steadied himself against Nay. That was 
before I learned the day was ours. Duty calls, lads. We have things to do. He glanced at 
the coins on the bed. Ah, six silvers for me, three each for you; well have a grand 
time. 
Nay frowned. May not read good, but ciphering aint hard. How do you get six? 
Please, Nay, have you ever attended a festival with three silvers to spend? No? And 
did you ever lack for fun despite a lack of funds? 
Furrows gathered on Nays brow. No and no. 
Well, then, there you go. Youll have more than youve ever had, and Ill have 
considerably less. Youll be exultant and Ill be suffering, but Ill hold up, thanks a great 
deal to your cure. He slapped Nay on the back and staggered over to the wash basin to 
begin scrubbing up. It will be fun, lads, youll see. Theyll remember the day we three

came to the festival. 
Harvest Festivals have changed rather a great deal since those days. As we strolled 
from the city we saw nary a face without a smileeven on the guardsmen who gave us a 
cursory 
inspection to make certain we were not carrying weapons. 
Merchants had 
arrived from all over the world, offering wares native to their own lands, and various 
prizes theyd traded for on the journey. Jugglers and acrobats staked out small parcels of 
ground, performing their dazzling feats in return for whatever coins or other offerings 
the crowd wished to give them. I saw one man who had a dancing bear on a leash, and 
another tent with banners proclaiming that within we would see voluptuous dancers 
from far Malca reveal the seductive secrets of their veiled dances. For those who could 
not read, the undulating form of one woman on a small stage near the entrance 
conveyed the message rather clearly. 
Food was available, and drink, with winemakers offering their vintages by the mug, 
bucket, or barrel. Food varied from some rather potently spiced gruels to fresh breads 
and meats that had been braised, boiled, roasted, smoked, or dried. Fish was also 
offered very fresh. I recognized little of it, since most of it came from the depths of the 
Crescent Sea, so I was thinking 
Id avoid it, then a shift in the wind swirled the scent 
past my nose and my mouth watered. 
Leigh, as expected, took charge of our entertainment and directed us away from 
foodstuffs and toward the various games of chance and skill. The booths with games 
offered a variety of prizes for those who won. Most were trinkets, including 
a lot of 
charms fashioned after the signs of the god-lings of luck or fate, and the goddess of 
love, Euris. Many places also offered garlands of ribbons woven with little dried flowers 
or interwoven with herb sprigs that smelled wonder-fill. The most interesting thing about 
the garlands was that while they could be worn, they also could be exchanged at some 
of the merchants for a big mug when you purchased a small, or two chicken legs for the 
price of one and a half. 
As we strolled through the festival, people did notice us. The fact that Leigh was once 
again dressed knees to throat in bright red did make him stand out. Nay and I had 
returned to the cleanest of our road clothes, which by no means made us look like 
mendicants or bandits, but made for a sharp contrast with Leigh. Our moonmasks also 
attracted attention, and I was very aware of the temeryx feather fluttering against my left 
ear. I didnt know if those who looked and pointed and giggled behind their hands 
thought us just curious, or if they had heard some of what had happened the night 
before and were wondering at the significance of our feathers. 
Leigh seemed oblivious to it all. He led us straight to a booth that offered prizes in 
exchange for shooting arrows into targets that seemed, at least to me, to be painfully 
close. We were offered ten arrows for a copper penny, which meant one of our silver 
coins would get us a thousand arrows. Five arrows 
in the targets heart would win a 
garland, which, at this range, was childs play. 
Leigh smiled at me. Youre our archer, Hawkins. Care to try your luck? 
Gladly. I produced my silver piece and snapped it down on the counter. Goodman, 
Ill take ten arrows, please. 
The man eyed the silver coin suspiciously, then produced ten arrows and handed me 
a bow. Nay moved around to watch him counting out my change while I stepped up to 
the line and looked at the selection of targets. I will be shooting at the hart. 
Your pleasure, sir, the man grunted. 
Childs play aptly describes the task Id set for myself because 
the bow Id been 
handed was the weak sort of thing a child might have been given. The bowstring hung 
limp and the bows wood had little spring to it. I could throw arrows further than it 
would shoot them, but I assumed it would be able to get an arrow to the target.

The arrows themselves were little better than the bow. 
Most were warped and all were poorly fletched. Their points had been blunted by use 
and not a few had split at the nocking point. It struck me that not only could we not 
bring weapons into the festival, but they didnt allow anyone to find them here either. 
Leigh smiled at me. A problem, Tarrant? 
Not at all, my lord. I nocked an -arrow, drew a bead on my target, then let fly. 
The hart, which was made of grass-and-leaf-stuffed sacking 
tied around a frame to 
approximate the shape of a deer, had a big red heart painted behind its forward 
shoulder. My arrow started for it perfectly, but died before it could reach the target and 
instead stuck into the ground a good four feet in front of it. 
Leigh coughed into his hand. The wind, Hawkins? 
Yes, the wind killed it. Must be that. I nocked another arrow, drew it back, sighted, 
raised my aimpoint and loosed it. The arrow wobbled a lot in flight, but struck the target 
in the ribs. Missed the heart by a handspan. Lungstuck. Wouldnt have run far. 
True, Hawkins, but further than wed have wanted to run after it, yes? Leigh picked 
up an arrow and spun it around its central axis. Perhaps this one will fly true. 
This harts heart this time. I drew, sighted, and shot. The arrow did fly true as 
predicted and hit the painted heart squarely at its center. 
Then, with a metallic clink, it bounced off. 
Leighs left eyebrow arched above his moonmask. A rather stiff wind that time, eh, 
Hawkins? 
Oh, yes, the wind. 
Perhaps, came a male voice from behind us, it is the wind from so many brags 
about Oriosan archers and their skill. 
The three of us turned to see who had insulted us, but immediately dropped to a 
knee. Leigh raised his head just a whit and smiled. Your Highness, it is an honor. 
Princess Ryhope smiled at us, and there was no denying she was beautiful. She was 
four years our senior and had sparkling 
eyes the shade of blue seen on distant 
mountains, or in a clear summer sky. Her long black hair had been gathered back into a 
braid and bound with ribbons that matched her eyes. A dusting of freckles graced her 
pale cheeks and the tip of her nosea fawn-colored mask covered her cheekbones and 
forehead. 
She wore a simple dress of brown that was more suited to riding than it was 
to court, and carried a small fan in her right hand. A blue scarf had been fastened 
around her neck, the long ends of which rode a slight breeze to trail back over her right 
shoulder. 
Courtiers surrounded her, but the man who had spoken had taken one step toward 
us. An inch or so shorter than me, and a mite leaner, he still had the look of a warrior 
about him. His black hair had been shorn close to his head, in keeping with Alcidese 
custom, and no mask hid his face or brown eyes. Hed grown a luxurious moustache, the 
ends of which curled back along his cheeks, and one gold earring hung from his left ear. 
His clothes, from boots and breeches to a simple tunic and jerkin, ran from dark brown 
to a light fawn, making him and Ryhope something of a pair. 
Ryhope shut her fan and lightly tapped the man on the shoulder. Prince Augustus, 
Oriosa does produce great archers; 
better than the bowyers and fletchers of Alcida, it 
would seem. 
But, Princess, from what your brother said, superior skill should overcome inferior 
equipment. 
Leighs head came up. Please, Highness, do not rebuke Prince Augustus for having 
inferior equipment. 
The Alcidese prince glanced at Leigh, turned away, then looked at him again. Leigh 
gave him a oh-yes-I-did-dare-say-that smile, and Princess Ryhopes reopened fan hid a

smile. Titters came from the rest of the entourage, and I know I had a hard time keeping 
my laughter choked back. 
Leigh rose to his feet and bowed deeply. I am mortified, Highness, that my mans 
performance here has cast a pall over the reputation of Oriosan archers. I would make 
amends. I offer, here and now, to shoot one arrow and strike the hart in the heart. 
Augustus barked a quick laugh. Your man just did that. 
Yes, but I will do it blindfolded. 
I looked at Leigh and he at me. Are you still drunk, Leigh? I whispered. 
Attend me and it will work, Hawkins. He smiled. Highness, 
if I could trouble you 
for your scarf. 
Ryhope handed her fan to one of her ladies in waiting, then unknotted the scarf. 
Augustus took it from her, then held it up and peered through it easily. Faugh, this is 
no blindfold. 
Leigh took it from him, then began folding it and refolding it into a strip an inch wide. 
Folded it is impenetrable to sight. He held it up for Augustus to see and the Alcidese 
prince snorted. Leigh turned to me and placed it over my eyes. Can you see through 
this, Hawkins? 
No, my lord. 
Good. He turned and handed the bunched scarf to Nay. Show it to those who 
would like to see it. As Nay carried it off, Leigh turned back to the counter where seven 
arrows remained. 
He chose one and showed it to me. As the others were distracted by 
Nay, Leighs voice dropped into a whisper. You will stand beside me, close, facing me 
across the bow. Point your right foot at the heart. 
I nodded. This arrow will fly straight, my lord. 
Good. He turned to those watching us and held the arrow up for inspection. 
Nothing unusual about the arrow, yes? 
He got shakes and nods from all of them, then handed the arrow to me. He picked up 
the bow, tested its pull, then nodded. 
He assumed a heroic pose, legs spread properly, 
the bow gripped in his left hand, his body perpendicular to the target. Glancing back 
over his right shoulder, he beckoned Nay back with his right hand. 
Nay, if you will, the blindfold. 
No, that wont do. Prince Augustus snared the end of the blue scarf. Hes your 
confederate. 
I give you my word, Highness, even if I could, I would not look at the target. Leigh 
reached up and tugged his moonmask a little higher. Im half blinded by this 
moon-mask as it is. 
Augustus has a point. Princess Ryhope took the scarf from Nay and stepped up 
behind. I will blind him. 
Your beauty and grace already blind me, Highness. 
Ryhope smiled and slipped the scarf over Leighs eyes. The blue cloth settled neatly 
into the valley created by his moon-mask. She knotted the cloth securely, then patted 
Leigh on the shoulder. Shoot well. Oriosas honor is at stake. 
Leigh brought the bow up. The arrow, Hawkins. Help me nock it. 
I settled the arrow atop his left hand and nocked it, then guided his right hand to the 
bowstring. As requested I pointed my right foot at the target. Leigh turned his head 
toward his left shoulder, brought his left arm up a bit, drew the arrow back and shot. 
The arrow sped from the bow and flew straight. It was likely the best shot Id ever 
seen Leigh get off. It arced down into the target and struck the hart in the heart, 
punctuating the rising chorus behind us with astonished gasps. 
Then it bounced off, and the spectators sighed with disappointment. 
Prince Augustus went from being shocked to triumphant in a heartbeat. It did not

stick. 
Leigh turned calmly and faced him without taking off the blindfold. I merely offered 
to hit the target in the heart, not stick the arrow there. What good is a killing shot on 
something 
that cannot be killed? 
Princess Ryhope touched Augustus arm. You wanted a display of skill, Highness, not 
dinner. I vouchsafe, however, give this Oriosan a good horse, a full quiver and a good 
bow, and there is nothing he could not slay to feed you. 
Leigh bowed deeply. You are too kind, Princess. He tugged off the blindfold and 
held it out to her. Your scarf. 
She shook her head. Keep it, noble sir; you have earned it. 
I am Bosleigh Norrington, at your service and forever in your debt. 
And richer for that debt I shall be, I have no doubt. The princess smiled and turned 
away, walking off with her entourage 
in tow. 
We watched her go, then Leigh laughed and handed the bow back to the booths 
owner. Well, my good men, that was an adventure. 
Nay blinked slowly at Leigh, his jaw agape. He glanced from the target to Leigh and 
back again, measuring and re-measuring the shot hed seen. His blinking, powered by 
complete 
disbelief, sped up. His voice came hushed and cautiously reverential. The 
shot . . . How? 
Leigh looked around, saw the booth owner leaning close, so he pulled us away. It 
was simple, Nay. As I set myself to be blindfolded, I did two things. First I positioned 
my feet so I was already aimed at the target. The shot was as good as in the beast at 
that point. I also tugged my moonmask up a bit, which let me look down past my nose 
at my feet, and Hawkins 
feet. Hawkins had a toe pointed at the heart, which allowed 
me to double-check my aim. I moved my arm up at the angle he had to make his shot 
and let fly. I hit. 
Nay shook his head in amazement. Had the deed been unseen . . . 
I laughed. Dont be too impressed yet, Nay. Tell me, Leigh, what had you planned to 
say when you missed? 
Leigh scratched at his chin. A variety of things, mostly revolving around how a hart 
reminded me of Princess Ryhope and that how I could not shoot something as beautiful, 
graceful, 
and charming as she. I had variations worked on that theme. 
I shook my head. So the hart wasnt the only target you were aiming at? 
No, and it looks as if I got two hits with one arrow. He held the scarf up to his nose 
and sniffed. Two solid hits. 
Lets hope her heart isnt as armored as that of the target. 
My stomach growled. 
Shall we eat? 
Yes, I think so. Leigh unknotted the scarf, then slipped it around his own neck. And 
after that, back into Yslin. For making that shot I need to thank Kedyn a great deal, and 
even cast some silver to Euris and Arel. 
Lots of it to Arel, because that shot was pure luck. Nay patted Leigh on the back. 
And seems youll be pressing your luck to pursue the princess, so you can have my 
silver as well. 
We found the Temple to Kedyn pretty easilyperhaps I should say we found the 
nearest Temple to Kedyn easily, since there were three scattered around Yslin. The one 
we entered was in the old imperial style, with tall columns and friezes depicting battles 
worked all around the upper reaches and even edging the priests-walk. Massive bronze 
double doors, nearly black with age, stood openthough they didnt seem terribly 
inviting. 
Inside, the temples layout only varied in one significant way from the temple at 
Valsinaaside from having been constructed 
on a scale that dwarfed our temple. Back

behind the statue of Kedyn, where we had a blank wall between the alcoves 
devoted to 
Fesyin and Gesric, the Alcidese had a long gallery extending a good distance deeper into 
the temple. After buying our incense and offering it, along with prayers, to Kedyn, we 
moved to explore the gallery. 
Id never quite seen anything like it. Row upon row of little statues, most no bigger 
than the dolls children play with, stood in various martial and mythical poses. Some 
showed warriors hacking off the heads of fallen foes, while others stabbed spears or 
swords into dragons and griffins, big snakes and howling beasts that looked a lot like 
gibberkin. Male and female statues were intermingled. Around the base of each a little 
moat of sand supported incense sticks and candles, the flickering flames of which cast 
haunting shadows up the walls and even onto the curve of the arched ceiling. 
What had attracted us to the gallery was the sheer number of people, more young 
than old, who bypassed Kedyn and moved directly to these little statues. They stood 
before them, or knelt, their heads bowed and their hands in the appropriate position as if 
they were praying to Kedyn himself. None of the three of us could figure out what was 
going on, but I very much felt as if Id fallen asleep and awakened in another world that 
was a step or two removed from my own. 
We returned to the inn and did not find Lord Norrington there. Instead, a message 
that told us to go to a specific place in the city. Severus pointed us in the proper 
direction and we set off. We wove through crowds, then ascended a tower and took 
passage on one of the baskets strung between buildings. The basket swayed a bit as we 
went along, and Leigh had no interest in looking down. 
Nay and I clutched the edges of the basket as the ferryman pulled us along to our 
destination. We passed from a newer section of the city into an older one, avoiding the 
tangled warren of streets below. Because we passed by only fifty feet or so above the 
ground, seeing things below in great detail was not a problem. We saw everything from 
washing hung out to dry to children playing, and what appeared to be a footchase 
between two city guardsmen and a sneak thief. 
We arrived at the far tower and descended into the older section of the city. When we 
arrived at the corner of Fishmarket and Pearl Streets, we saw no one we recognized and 
no one approached us. I wasnt certain why we were there, then Nay spotted the Phoenix 
Fledgling sign near an alley mouth and we headed into it. 
We located the sign in other places, carved into a lintel, scratched onto a post, and 
followed the signs as we might follow game. Finally we came to a closed doorway with a 
narrow, sealed peephole in it. I knocked on the door and the small window opened. 
Someone looked out and said, Do you understand your business here? 
I touched my hand to my brow, then lowered it with my palm up and open. 
The doorslit clicked shut, then the door itself opened. The three of us entered, then 
headed down a small corridor toward a robed man beckoning us onward. He led us to a 
small chamber 
where we were given brown cloaks, then he had us write our names in a 
massive visitors tome. Leigh signed with a flourish, I didnt waste as much ink, and Nay 
drew the symbol hed always stamped onto the weapons hed made. 
Our guide offered us a quick tour of the Yslin Phoenix Knights Hall and the three of 
us followed in silence. The Grand Hall ran much deeper than the one in Valsina, with all 
the amphitheatre rows faced with white marble. The chambers 
domed ceiling was 
upheld by two dozen marble pillars and had been painted with a huge mural depicting 
the life cycle of the Phoenix. The rebirth of the Phoenix took place over the area where 
new recruits would be brought in, or so I surmised. 
Beyond that chamber lay a series of smaller rooms suited for meetings, and a dining 
hall that looked as if it could seat three hundred people at a time. A kitchen adjoined it, 
and then back behind the left side of the Grand Hall we ran through a complex of even

smaller rooms that had been set up to house visiting Knights. Completing our circuit we 
moved over to the area behind the right side of the Grand Hall and found ourselves in a 
gallery very much like the one wed seen in Kedyns temple. 
Here there were legions of statues, most very small, but a dozen or so life-sized and 
set in alcoves of their own. Candles flickered before all of them and incense burned by a 
few. Many of them looked like those in the temple, but I couldnt identify for certain any 
of the ones Id seen before. Even so, the martial nature of the poses was the same. 
I scratched at the back of my neck. Forgive me ... I faltered for a name and decided 
to use an honorific that could not offend. . . . Master, but we saw a gallery like this in 
Kedyns temple and dont understand. 
He held his hand up. The reason you are here is to learn so you may understand. 
He led us back around to the meeting 
rooms and appropriated an empty one. He 
indicated we should sit in the blocky wooden chairs, then he dropped to the floor with 
his robe puddling around his folded legs. 
All three of you are aware that nearly two millennia ago, a vast conquering army 
swept out of the Wasteswhich once included what are now the Black Marchesand 
conquered most of the known world. They established the Estine Empire, of which even 
Oriosa was a province. For many centuries the Estine Emperors ruled wisely and well, 
though a thousand years ago the Man-urZrethi War showed that the aristocracy was not 
capable of acquitting the duties they owed the Emperor. 
He swept the old order aside 
and rewarded the leaders who had led the fighting with title and land, creating a new 
nobility. 
Two and a half centuries later, Kirun led his Aurolani horde down from the north, 
wielding the power given him by his DragonCrown, and laid waste to the Empires 
central provinces, including your Oriosa. The people, aided by the elves and urZrethi, 
beat him backbut again the aristocracy had proven inept. Instead of sweeping them 
aside as his predecessor 
had done centuries before, the Emperor sent troops to put 
down the provincial revolts. 
I nodded, being fairly familiar with the history of Oriosa from this point forward. It 
was during this time of unrest that Oriosans, Murosons, and Alosansthe people of the 
central provinces that had suffered the mosttook the mask in what we call the Great 
Revolt. Imperial authority was overthrown and our nations declared themselves 
independent. They formed the Confederation, pledging themselves to defend each other, 
and that sort of unity survived to this day. 
Our instructor continued. The Emperors brother, Valentine, 
saw disaster in what his 
brother was doing. He staged his own rebellion, ousting his brother. The Emperor, 
Balanicus, fled to Madasosa in Reimancia, claiming the eastern half of the Empire was the 
only legitimate government on the continent. Sebcia, Bilasia, Reimancia, and Viarca all 
consider themselves still to be the Estine Empire. 
Valentine, in turn, granted autonomy to the western provinces, but united them in 
the Valentine League. He ruled it until he died, and the League throne has never had a 
successor. 
The Leagues rulers maintain ambassadors in each others capitals, with a 
Council sitting for a year in each of the capitals on a rotating basis. The Council is led by 
the local ruler, but only a Grand Council, one of all the rulers, could ever elect a new 
Valentine Emperor. 
My understanding of the history of that time did not paint so beneficent a picture of 
Valentine, since his first effort at securing the Leagues borders involved trying to 
establish them somewhere north of Muroso and west of Reimancia, though his armies 
found moving through Oriosa rather difficult. 
As the story goes, his generals decided 
they thought the Oriosan countryside was beautiful, but they had no real desire to spend 
eternity there, so they returned to Saporcia and Al-cida.

What Valentine had done, which was very important, was to shatter the DragonCrown 
and scatter the pieces. All the nations that had contributed armies to the effort to defeat 
Kirun were rewarded for their efforts by being given a portion of the DragonCrown, if 
they wanted one. The remaining pieces were housed in Fortress Draconis, which 
Valentine established, 
built, and garrisoned. He used mostly League troops, but 
companies from all over the world have spent time there as part of the garrison. 
Many people came to see Valentine as a god for all he had done, but he refused that 
honor. He said he was but a man who might possess some godly attributes, but his true 
value was in showing men and women that the attainment of godly virtues merely 
required dedication, prayer, and works that brought one closer to the virtues themselves. 
Upon his death it was revealed that the gods themselves had smiled upon him and 
raised him to be more than a man. Not quite a godling, but certainly more than weirun, 
he became 
a patron for those who sought the virtues he represented. 
Likewise the 
gods accepted into his legion of followers those who attained virtuous status, and their 
representations are revered by families and the hopeful alike. These galleries are devoted 
to those individuals who have attained this exalted status. Those represented here were 
Phoenix Knights, and those in Kedyns Temple were consecrated to him. The priests 
inform peoplethe families, usuallyof the elevation of someone who has passed on 
when the gods themselves reveal this information to them. 
I recall a chill running down my spine as our teacher told this story. Somewhat 
irrationally I began to wonder if the League had not gained special favor with the gods 
such that such great and miraculous things were revealed to their priests, but denied to 
ours. It was not until I was much older, and decidedly more cynical, that I wondered if 
the revelations 
were used as a means to bind wealthy families more closely to one 
temple than another, and to get them to spend money to guarantee the proper 
veneration of their dead ancestor 
would continue. Some families even went so far as to 
pay for the outfitting, training, and upkeep of army companies that fought beneath the 
banners of their ancestors, which took a great deal of pressure off local governments to 
maintain troops. 
Later when I mentioned to Nay my wondering if Oriosans were doing something 
wrong, he just shook his head. Leaguers 
need the extra helpthe gods know we get it 
right from the start. 
The chill running down my spine also started me thinking about whether or not I 
would ever be worthy of being elevated to such status. I needed barely a glance to tell 
that Leigh was long lost in that sort of musing. I knew his father would be worthy, and I 
thought my father would be as well, but the two of us? I could hope that what we had 
done so far would have pleased the gods enough to accept us. But if acceptance could be 
purchased that easily, perhaps the honor was not that great in the first place. 
I should also point out that just because Oriosa does not have galleries featuring 
statues of our ancestors in every temple, 
it does not mean we do not revere the 
memories of those who have gone before. The masks our ancestors have worn are 
preserved and displayed on the anniversaries of their deaths. 
We tell stories about them and hold them dear, but we dont treat them as godlets. 
Our instructor told us more, including how the Knights of the Phoenix got their start 
in the aftermath of the Man-ur-Zrethi War, and came into its power with the Empires 
dissolution. 
Valentine had been a Phoenix Knight, rising to the rank of Greater Eyre 
Master, which I gather is about as far as anyone can go in the society. He showed us a 
couple more hand signals, like the command to follow and the command to take 
somethingincluding the overt and covert variations. He then took us back to the 
gallery, let us burn incense before the statue of Valentinewho was said to embody all 
of the Martial 
Virtuesthen had us return the robes to him and sent us on our way.

Upon our return to the inn we met Leighs father. He seemed a bit impatient, but 
allowed us to eat some bread and cheese and a little roasted pork before he headed us 
back to Fortress Gryps. I have already heard of what you did this morning, at the 
festival and while I would have forbidden it had I been there, it turns out it was for the 
best. It transformed 
you from mere moonmasked youths into warriors of no mean 
ability, which provides some with a different picture of what we faced at Atval. 
On our return to Fortress Gryps, we were again taken into the Grand Hall, but no 
longer was it arranged as a place for a celebration. A number of fairly plain tables had 
been arranged in a rather large circle around the center of the room. Each table had a 
banner hung behind it identifying the nation represented 
and the arms of the individuals 
seated there. Back behind each delegation more chairs were arranged. Very few were 
occupied, and they seemed mostly reserved for advisors to the royals seated at the tables 
themselves. 
We were seated behind Queen Lanivette, her son, daughter, and Chamberlain. 
Princess Ryhope turned and looked at us as we sat. She gave Leigh a warm smile. He 
returned it, adding a wink, which brought a blush to her cheeks. 
Her brother, Scrainwood, likewise watched us take our seats. Of him, by me, perhaps 
the less said is best, but I cannot omit him from this chronicle because of the major part 
he played in it. He was as handsome as his sister was beautiful, though they looked little 
alike. He was thirteen years older than she, making him a year shy of twice my age. Tall 
and lean, though not quite as tall as me, he had brown hair and hazel eyes which to me 
seemed a bit tight set together. 
I didnt know that much about him at the time. He had married, I knew, as did 
anyone in Oriosa who had celebrated his wedding and the birth of his two sons. They 
were years yet from taking the mask, and remained with their mother in Meredo. She 
was a princess from Muroso and the marriage was political, though her acceptance of it 
was more gracious than his. 
As I sat, my eyes met his for the first timehed not even wasted a glance at me the 
night before when I was attending Lord Norrington as his aide. I knew from that 
moment that he did not like me, nor I him. I dont know why this enmity sprang up at a 
glance, but a hateful fire had ignited in him the moment he recognized I existed. 
Directly across from us sat the Alcidese delegation, with Prince Augustus attending his 
father, Penesius. Other delegations 
sat beneath the banners of the nations of the 
Valentine League, and around to the left Okrannel was represented. Reimancia 
represented the Estine Empire, Haorra the Ancient Union, and Jentellin sat beneath a 
scintillating banner with red Elvish lettering running down one edge. 
King Penesius stood. It appears, good Queen Lanivette, your marvelous young 
warriors have arrived. 
The queen did not stir, but Duke Larner turned to us and indicated we should stand, 
which we did. Lord Norrington stood with us. 
The Alcidese leader smiled. We have heard from Lord Norrington of the deeds you 
have performed. We have been told that in the Black City of Atval you destroyed a force 
numbering over two hundred gibberkin. You must understand that we all agree your 
battle must have been horrible, and your surviving it speaks well of you, but it stretched 
credulity for many of us to believe that so few were able to stand against ten times their 
number and survive. Could what we have been told possibly be true? 
I had no idea how to answer that question, but Leigh did not shy from it in the least. 
Your Majesties, I do not know what tale you have been told by my father, but because I 
know my father, I will assume he told it with undue modesty concerning 
his part in it, 
and his pride in us may have exaggerated our roles. Oriosa, as everyone knows, faced 
the urZrethi invasion, 
Kiruns invasion, then a century ago, Kreechucs invasion. 
Our

nation, by necessity, trains its warriors well and young to deal with Aurolani threats. 
Perhaps more remarkable than our survival, and that of some of our companions, is that 
eleven of the people who rode with us did not survive. Truth be told, we do not know 
how many enemies we faced. Our scouts last count numbered them at two hundred, but 
there could have been more, or a few less. In a battle for survival, one does not have 
time to count the dead. 
Nay and I just nodded as Leigh spoke. 
King Penesius brown eyes shrank. Bravely spoken words, but they hardly answer my 
question. Is the threat you report credible? 
Leigh lifted his chin, which displayed Ryhopes scarf for all to see. One or two or five 
or twenty or two hundred gib-berkin does not matter. You all acknowledge that we 
fought them, but this question is akin to asking a man who says he was rained upon to 
guess at the number of raindrops that hit him. I can tell you, we were soaked in the 
blood of our enemies 
and our friends. It matters not how many gibberkin we fought, 
how many temeryces were slain, but that we fought them in Oriosa and on our way 
here. More importantly, the ones we met in Atval clearly were bent on stopping us from 
reaching Yslin. If you fail to interpret that sign correctly, then I predict it will rain, rain 
hard, and flood sufficiently that all of us will be washed away. 
I was hard pressed to restrain a smile at Leighs oratory, and Ryhope clearly 
abandoned her efforts. She smiled happily in his direction. The Duke nodded his thanks 
to us, then Prince Scrainwood stood. As he did so I saw his down-turned lips even out 
into a thin-lipped grimace. 
It is clear, Highnesses, that we need to undertake some serious discussions. These 
are not discussions for children, so these boys may be dismissed, but Bosleigh 
Norringtons words cannot be ignored. Scrainwood lifted his head and straightened 
his 
spine. We face a crisis that has been in the offing for a century. Failure to address it now 
may mean we never have a chance to address it in the future. 
Lord Norrington tapped Leigh on the shoulder, and Leigh led us from the chamber. 
Outside, after the doors closed behind 
us, he slumped against a wall and would have 
sunk to the floor but Nay and I held him up. His hands shook and he licked his lips. I 
cant believe I said what I did. 
Pretty speech. Nay smiled. The princess seemed impressed. 
Leigh smiled. I did notice that. Did you think I did well, Hawkins? 
I nodded. You reported the right of it. Seems they wanted to deny what your father 
said so they didnt have to worry themselves about the future. You showed them that 
was wrong, and the prince picked up on it. 
He did, didnt he? Some of the hopeful warmth leeched out of Leighs voice as he 
straightened up. Interesting man, he-who-will-be-our-king. 
Wanted us out of there fast enough. 
I shivered. I dont think he liked meat all. 
I dont think he liked us diverting attention from him. Leigh flicked a finger against 
his temeryx feather. You saw his mask, all honorary ribbons from units. Hes twice our 
age and hasnt done a thing, whereas provincials like us have slain temeryces and other 
Aurolani beasties before our Moon Month is up. 
I frowned. Youre saying hes jealous of us? 
Jealousy, envy; both are bad. Leigh tugged at the cuffs of his shirt and smiled. Hell 
bear watching. 
Id rather watch his sister. 
Nay nodded. My preference as well. 
Yes, lads, Im sure thats true. Leigh slapped us both on our shoulders and guided 
us down the hallway toward the door. So Ill have to see what I can do to secure that

duty for myself. 
[ ord Norrington remained involved in the Council of Kings Lfor the next several days. 
The three of us kept ourselves busy wandering about town, visiting the festival, and 
going back to the Phoenix Knights halls to learn more about the history of the 
organization. The lessons we learned there had a decided League slant to them, but our 
tutors didnt seem to have an anti-Oriosa bias. Instead they treated us as if we were from 
a backward province. We amazed them with our ability to learn fast, though, and 
devoured the materials Fledglings had to master 
before they could progress further in 
the organization. 
The festival never again did rise to the level of excitement wed seen on the first day, 
but there were a variety of reasons for that. Primary among them was Leighs mood, 
which soured with each minute since hed last seen Ryhope. Id seen Leigh go through 
crushes beforeNolda Disper being the most recent of a spate of them. I was used to 
the pattern of his getting sulky when the woman of his dreams was not in sight, so I did 
my best to ignore him. Nay had a harder time of it and got a bit testy, which created 
new frictions among us. 
I continued to see new and different things in Yslin, and began to recognize things my 
father had warned me about. I spotted a lot of swindlers playing tricks on 
festival-goers often cheating them in games of chance through techniques my father 
had warned me about. Alley-bashers also preyed on those who drank too much, 
fake-cripples begged money, and cutpurses wandered through crowds not even 
bothering with artifice to take what they wanted. 
There was one amusing note. The booth where Leigh had shot the arrow blindfolded 
into the heart was doing a lot of business. The proprietor had moved the hart back a 
good twenty feet and had adopted a mask of his own. He spent his time challenging 
passing individuals to match the blindfolded feat of archery that only an Oriosan could 
do. Attempts at salving national pride put a lot of copper in his pocket. 
Either he didnt recognize us as we passed by, or chose not to recognize us, more like. 
Nay was of a mind to strip the mask off him and expose his fraud, but I held him back 
from violence. Leigh roused himself and agreed with me. Think on it, Nay. Hes doing 
more here to impress the world with our skills than any story of harvesting gibberers will 
ever manage. 
One afternoon we all three split up and went our separate ways. It wasnt out of any 
disagreement, though the split probably 
did let us bleed off some frustration. Each of us 
wandered away to find suitable gifts for the others. We were coming down to the end of 
our Moon Months, when we would get our first adult masks, and it was customary for 
friends to present a gift to those who were getting their masks. The gifts were supposed 
to be something more than trivial, but not totally extravagant
though Prince 
Scrainwood was supposed to have been given a title and castle when he lost his 
moonmask. 
Money for buying gifts would have been a problem, but Lord Norrington took care of 
that. He gave each of us three gold pieces and said they were from Queen Lanivette 
herself, by way of thanking us for our service to the nation. Fully funded by her 
generosity, we headed out. 
I walked a meandering path that took me all over Yslin. I wanted to buy each of them 
something that would last a long time, and that would be useful and memorable and 
remind them of the time wed spent together. While a lot of things fit that description, I 
saw very few of them in my travels. The festival wares seemed picked over and the 
clothes manufactured 
in Alcida seemed unfit for Oriosa. The bright colors werent the 
problems; it was the lightness of the weave and the looseness of the cuts, which would 
mean a garment could only be worn for a couple weeks in the dead of summer.

Down in the docks area I found what I wanted. Sailors from the various ships that 
had docked had brought with them a few items from distant lands that they hoped to 
resell to make some money for themselves. One man, just arrived from Svarskya in 
Okrannel, had a sheepskin coat with black wool on the interior. I gathered from the 
quickening of the pace of those he offered it to that in Alcida natural black wool was not 
favored and might even be superstitiously avoided. The coat looked big enough for Nay, 
so I slowly circled the man and moved in when he seemed frustrated and desperate. 
Now, having been to market with my mother many times, I knew how to bargain. I 
listened to his story of how hed bought the coat for his dear father, but his father passed 
on while he was at sea, and now he needed money to give his father a proper burial and 
to make sacrifices at the Temple of Death in his fathers name. I affected an attitude of 
horror at his plight and evidenced a desire to help him, which brought us to haggling 
over the price. 
He started at four gold and I talked him down to one gold, five silver, which I raised 
to two gold if hed also give me a carved malachite pendant of Arel, the godling of Luck. 
He agreed and we made the exchange. The jacket hung on me so loosely I wondered if 
the sheep hadnt been the size of a bear, and I made quick time back to the inn. 
Once there I asked Severus to hide the jacket for me, which he agreed to do, albeit 
rather reluctantly. In Alcida, young master, a black sheep is regarded as an ill omen. 
Oh, I know. I raised a hand to the luck pendant I now wore at my throat. I only 
dared wear it this far because I had this amulet that makes me very lucky. Luckier than 
anyone here, I imagine. 
That remark, which I made loudly, pricked up the ears of a greasy little man sitting in 
the back of the common room. Lucky, are you? 
I am. 
The innkeeper shook his head to warn me off, but I flashed him a smile and touched 
the amulet again. I was lucky to find that coat, and Ill be lucky again today, I can feel 
it. 
Perhaps youd be willing to test your luck. The man beckoned me over to his table 
and set out three small cups and a wooden ball the size of a grape. He showed the ball 
to me, placed it beneath the center cup, then began to mix them up. He did the 
switching very slowly and obviously, letting me follow the cup with the ball very easily. 
He stopped the mixing and said, There, find the ball. 
I pointed to the cup on the right. He tipped it aside and there the ball was. Very 
good. Try again. 
I smiled and fingered the amulet. I wont lose. 
Again he mixed things up and again I chose the right cup. Childs play. 
Well, he offered, we could make it more interesting. 
How? 
We could wager on it. Ill pay you three times what you wager if you are right. 
I blinked my eyes. But all I have is this gold coin. 
He reached into his belt pouch, placed three gold coins on the table, then put mine on 
top of it. Here we go, watch the ball. He placed it beneath the center cup and started 
mixing them up. His moves this time were much faster, much more smooth. I did my 
best to keep my eye on the appropriate cup, but I lost it. Looking up at me he must have 
seen my eyes flicker as I searched, for he slowed the mixing, then stopped. 
Which cup is it, good sir? 
I stroked the pendant with my right hand, then began to point with my left. Is it this 
one, no, wait, I ... I think its this one, no, wait a moment. I squatted down to put my 
eyes level with the top of the table. Just a moment. I know which it is! 
Rising, I brought both hands up and flipped over the two outside cups. They were

empty. There, I knew it, the middle one. 
The man blanched and reached his right hand for the coins. I leaned forward and 
grabbed his left fist and pressed down with my weight on it, mashing it against the table. 
I think, my friend, if I open your fist here, Im going to find a ball in it, a little wooden 
ball. Wouldnt that be lucky? 
Lucky, perhaps, but not for you. He glanced past me and nodded, which brought an 
immensely fat man up off a stool and waddling in my direction. Youve lost, boy. Go 
away while you can still walk away. 
No, no, no, my dear man, you have it all wrong, completely 
and utterly wrong. 
Leigh laughed as he sauntered toward the corner of the common room. Youve 
forgotten, my friend is very lucky. 
The weasel snarled. And my friend is very big. 
Indeed, he is, but not as ferocious as our friend. Leigh glanced back over his 
shoulder as Resolute ducked his head beneath a rafter and stalked into the common 
room. The fat man stopped dead in his tracks, though his body quaked a time or two. 
Resolute gave him a feral grin that set the man back a step. 
Leigh reached over and pried the four gold coins from the weasels hand, then 
reached up with his right hand and squeezed the mans cheeks together. I think that my 
friend is not only lucky, but I think hes pretty much sucked all the luck out of you. While 
were here, I think your luck is going to be much better elsewhere. You agree, dont 
you? 
Though Leigh started the mans head nodding up and down, it continued under its 
own power when Leigh released his grip. The weasel gathered his cups together and ran 
out, clutching them to his chest. Resolutes growl sped him on his way, and induced the 
behemoth to follow as quickly as he could manage. 
Leigh handed me the coins. Your winnings, Hawkins. 
Thanks very much. I nodded to Resolute. Good to see you again. 
Resolute found me and we were looking for you and Nay. Is he here? 
I havent seen him. 
Resolute frowned. No time to wait. Come with me. 
Leigh shrugged. He wont tell me what its about either. 
We followed wordlessly as Resolute led us through Yslin. 
We angled north, toward the docks, but broke off to the west before we got too close 
to the sea. We began to move into an older, worn-down section of town, where sewage 
gathered into stagnant puddles warred over by clouds of insects. Mildew clung to the 
walls and many buildings showed cracks in foundations and the walls. 
This was the section of Yslin known as the Downs, and it was anything but the bucolic 
sort of place suggested by the name. This section of the city was sinking and would 
flood with extremely high tides. In another city or nation an attempt might have been 
made to reclaim it, but the Vorquelves had made it their home. 
And, even now, I suspect Yslin does nothing to save it in the hopes the Vorquelves 
will finally quit the city. 
The moist air penetrated my skin and carried a chill to my bones, though I must 
admit it wasnt just the moisture that did it. As we stalked through the streets, we saw all 
manner of individuals lurking about. All were elves and many retained the supple, lithe 
form of the other elves, though they seemed stunted, shorter, and not nearly as 
powerful as Jentellin. A few wore tattoos or had shaved their heads or wore their hair 
long in a myriad of braids. Their soiled clothes reeked of sweat, blood, and other things 
even less pleasant. All of them had pupilless eyes, with colors running from pure blind 
white through coal-black, and a few had metallic colors like Resolute. 
Deeper into the Downs elven strumpets called to us and lifted their skirts to entice us.

Bottles were passed between them, and elsewhere on the streets drunken elves slumped 
against walls or lay facedown in the mud. Some of the bodies twitched as they heaved 
up everything theyd drunk that day. Still others stumbled from smoky hovels with the 
acrid sweet scent of morphium clinging to them. Those lost souls drifted along oblivious 
to the world around them, heedless of the dangers of a dark alley or horse-drawn cart. 
Many things were shouted at us, most of them in Elvish. The tone told me I didnt 
want to know what was being said, and Resolute offered neither translations nor 
warnings to those yelling at us. It struck me that the elves seemed as angry with him for 
bringing men into the Downs as they were with us for being there. 
Finally Resolute led us down an alley and into a well-lit building that served as a 
tavern. Across the way a bartender the only fat elf Id ever seendrew frothy mugs of 
ale and serving wenches brought them to customers. Rather unusually, 
though, most all 
the tables had been moved to the back of the common room and stacked there. The 
chairs had been arranged in rows and a clear space separated the chairs from a single 
table at the head of the room. Elves of various stripes filled the chairs, including one 
striking female, with black hair, gold eyes, and enough tattoos to give Resolute 
competition. 
At the table sat four elves. From their eyes I guessed they were Vorquelves, yet these 
elves were well dressed, even fashionably 
so. They appeared to be clean, right down to 
their well-trimmed fingernails. They had parchment before them, quill pens and ink, so I 
guessed they were literate. They watched us enter and one of them, a red-haired male, 
directed us to a pair of open seats in the front row. 
Resolute moved to one of two chairs set facing the bar. In the one to his right, 
between him and the table, sat a female elf whose white hair was a match for his. Her 
eyes were a copper color that seemed to shift a bit, as if currents moved through the 
molten metal trapped in her orbs. She did not turn her head toward Resolute, but 
dropped her hand on his after he sat. 
The red-haired elf stood and spoke quickly in Elvish, before 
reverting to the common 
Mantongue for our benefit. You have been brought here by Resolute because he is on 
trial. He has been charged with malicious conduct. Against this charge he maintains a 
defense of grave circumstance. In short, he claims what he did was not an offense 
because of the urgency of his mission. 
I am Amends. With my three companions we have brought this charge against him 
and will try it. Seated next to Resolute is our Truthteller, Oracle. She will determine the 
right of things here. If she offers no ruling, then we will decide what shall be done. 
I frowned because it sounded that the people making the charge would also be 
deciding whether or not Resolute was guilty of it. That hardly sounded fair. I glanced at 
him, but he just looked at Amends. 
Amends glanced at the parchment in front of him. You were present when Resolute 
had an exchange with Jentellin of Croquellyn. 
I nodded. I was, but I dont understand Elvish, so I dont know what they said. 
No matter. Was Resolute disrespectful? 
I scratched at my forehead. He was angry, but with good cause. Disrespectful, I dont 
know. 
The red-headed elf snorted sharply. Is not a display of anger at a gathering such as 
that rude, and is not rudeness disrespectful? 
Shouting fire might be rude and disrespectful, but if the building was burning, it 
would be welcome. I pointed an open hand toward Resolute. Hed seen what we saw at 
Atval. He saved my life, and he brought forward the fact that Auro-lani creatures were in 
Oriosa. I make the two things the same. 
Leigh smiled at me. Well said.

Thank you. 
If you please, men. Amends frowned at us. It was not your impression Resolutes 
action disrupted things? 
I signed. We had been told that we were to discuss what happened at Atval with no 
one, so the politicians could work up to a discussion of things. Resolute forced the issue, 
which meant it couldnt be lost or forgotten. What he did might not have been desired by 
some, but it was the right thing to do. 
Resolute nodded slightly, but Oracle remained still and silent. 
Amends looked at Oracle, waiting in silence that was only broken by a drunk and a 
slattern laughing as they searched for something that apparently was lost within the folds 
of her skirts. The black-haired female hissed them to silence, but still Oracle said 
nothing. 
Amends nodded. Well, there apparently is no untruth in what we have been told. The 
whole of the truth has yet to be determined, so we shall retire to do that. Resolute, you 
will remain here until we return. The four of them got up and walked toward a back 
room. 
Once the door to it had closed, Resolute slipped his hand from beneath Oracles and 
crossed to the bar. Leigh and I walked over to him as he ordered three tankards of ale. 
The bartender only drew one. 
I want three. One for me, and one each for these men. 
The tallow candles imparted a golden glow to the bartenders 
bald pate and the tips 
of his pointed ears. This ale isnt for the likes of them. 
I held up a hand. We appreciate it, Resolute, but its not important. 
Likely its sour and tastes of wormy-wood. Leigh sniffed indignantly. Ive already 
had more than my fill of bad ale in my lifetime. 
The bartender narrowed his emerald eyes. A man might fall for that trickery, but not 
me. He turned to other customers 
and ignored us. 
So, Resolute, what was all that about? 
The elf licked foam from his top lip, then leaned back on the bar and hooked his 
elbows on the edge. Vorquelves tend to bunch in various groups. Amends and his type, 
theyre the appeasers. They think that by being nice and polite, they will be able to 
influence men and elves into liberating Vorquellyn. Me, Im just out for justice. Ill shame 
anyone I can into freeing 
my home. When I cant do that, I go out and kill things. 
Others, well, you saw them outside and back there. Theyve surrendered, theyre the 
dissolute. They have no hope and have forever to wallow in self-pity. 
He raised his chin and pointed at Oracle. Then we have her and her kind. Mystics in 
the way Im a warrior. They see things, bits and pieces of a puzzle, that tells us our 
home will be freed. Dont see it fast enough for me, though. 
Amends and his cabal have power over you? 
No, Leigh, though they would like to think they do. All they really can manage is to 
turn me out of the Downs, or refuse to trade with me. Theyre angry because I spoke 
harshly to Jentellin, and they were hoping to enlist his aid. 
Resolute, take your friends home. A lean elf in stained grey leathers stood in the 
middle of the tavern room and pointed a ringer toward Leigh and me. We dont need 
them here. 
Easy, friend. Leigh gave the elf a full smile. Were just here helping a comrade. 
Im not your friend, man. The way the elf said the word boosted anger through me. 
Either you get out of here now, or there will be trouble. 
Leighs smile faded. Oh, we leave here at your command, then you and your friends 
fall on us outside? Is that the plan? 
The elf clawed fingers back through matted brown hair. Ill thrash you here.

I shook my head and stepped between him and Leigh. No, you wont. 
I can handle him, Hawkins. 
I owe you from earlier, remember? I turned and met the elfs sapphire gaze without 
flinching. Whats your name? 
I am Predator. He gave me a crooked smile. I lead the Grey Mist and we own the 
Downs. 
Good, then you can convey my message to all your people. 
If you or any of the 
Grey Misters touch a Norrington, Ill give you a lot of time and pain to think on why that 
was wrong. 
Nicely said, Hawkins. I appreciate it. 
I turned back toward Leigh to nod at him, fully knowing what would happen. Leighs 
widening eyes told me a punch was incoming, so I ducked my head and let Predators 
right fist flash over my left shoulder. I stepped back quickly and jammed my left elbow 
in the elfs ribs. I got the oof I expected, but as I pivoted on my left foot and brought my 
right fist around to double him over, he slipped past my punch. 
I sidestepped right, again cutting him off from Leigh. Predators right hand flashed in 
again. It glanced off my left cheek and hurt, but wasnt anywhere near enough to put me 
down. My left arm came up and I got a handful of his slender arm. I pulled him forward, 
then pivoted to the left. I hit him with an open hand over the heart and dragged him 
over my right hip. Leigh danced back as the elf crashed down. 
Predator scrambled back to his feet as Leigh appropriated the chair Resolute had 
vacated. The elf came in more slowly now, more respectful, which was his mistake. I 
feinted with a low, slow left hand, then brought my right hand around and down in a big 
roundhouse right. I caught him in the side of the jaw and spun him around. His legs got 
all twisted up. He slammed against the bar and rebounded, hard, to the floor. 
Two other grey-clad elves started after me, but a loud elven voice split the hoots, 
threats, and cheers. I spun and looked at Oracle. Her hand rested on Leighs arm and 
she spoke in a clear firm voice. I couldnt understand her words, but the effect they had 
on the elves was nothing short of mind-numbing. 
Many sagged in chairs or against the 
bar and began to weep, while others stared at Leigh in amazement. 
Amends and the others came out of the back room, their faces pure masks of 
astonishment. Did you hear it all, anyone? 
Two verses? 
Resolute walked past me and knelt before Oracle, resting his scarred hands on her 
knees. I heard it. It is burned into my memory. He repeated what she had said, but in 
hushed and reverential tones, then glanced back at me. 
My translation will lack something, for in Elvish what she has said is as lyrical as it is 
hopeful. In your tongue it is this: A Norrington to lead them, Immortal, washed in fire 
Victorious, from sea to ice. 
Power of the north he will shatter, A scourge he will kill, Then Vorquellyn will 
redeem. 
My mouth went dry. What does it mean? 
Resolute started to answer, but Amends cut him off. It could mean much, and it 
could be nonsense. We will deliberate 
and decide. If this is meant to be heard outside 
elven councils, we will speak. 
Resolute stood and gave Amends a wolfish grin. Decide right, Amends. We all heard 
this and we know the justice of it. You speak, or I will, and I think you know I will be 
heard. 
The Vorquelfs prophecy conspired with other events to push the royals at the Harvest 
Festival to consider taking action. The strongest motivating factor came through a series 
of arcanslata messages sent to the Okrans delegation. They reflected 
a very serious 
situation developing in Okrannel.

Not being a magicker, my understanding of how an arcanslata 
works is decidedly 
simple, but here it is. Using a very powerful spell that, as I understand it, takes a long 
time to prepare and involves the use of fairly rare and expensive ingredients, 
a piece of 
slate is split down the middle to create two tablets. The tablets themselves are linked, 
such that what is written on the face of one appears in reverse on the other and vice 
versa. To read the message, the arcanslata is held up to a mirror. The transmission of 
the message is instantaneous and only goes from one of the paired slates to the 
otherno eavesdropping 
is possible. I have been told the magickal Law of Contagion is 
at play in the production and use of the slates, and the spells to send messages back and 
forth are not easy to wield. 
The messages from Okrannel said Aurolani pirate activity from the Ghost Marches and 
Vorquellyn had increased, and that fortresses in the mountains were reporting increasing 
contact with Aurolani creatures. The city of Crozt on the tip of the Okrannel finger had 
been raided by pirates and some had even been seen in the Svarskya Gulf. The 
implication was that the Aurolani forces were making a push at Okrannel, and if nothing 
was done to help defend it, the lower half of the Crescent Sea and all the nations 
touching it would be vulnerable 
to attacks. 
The reports from Okrannel told everyone what they had to do, and the elven 
prophecy provided them a focus around which to organize how they were going to do it. 
Already in Yslin there existed enough ships and elite troopsthe royals various 
Bodyguard unitsto send a strong relief force to Okrannel. At the same time the nations 
of the east would send troops north toward Fortress Draconis and the western nations 
would launch their fleets to scour the Crescent Sea of Aurolani pirates. 
The prophecy made it clear that Lord Kenwick Norrington would lead the expedition, 
and everyone knew a core of sub-leaders would be vital to the expeditions success. The 
various royals decided they would surround Lord Norrington with a circle of heroes who 
could lead. Though, to me, most royals seemed more interested in having their nations 
representative forced into that circle. The honor would be in the going, not necessarily in 
the fighting itself. 
Lord Norrington made certain Nay, Leigh, and I were present 
during the debates that 
determined the forces composition. 
From the questions he asked us after the various 
sessions I got the sense he was using us to figure out where the balance point was 
between politics and efficacy. Where politics undercut 
the ability of the force to fight, 
Lord Norrington would offer objections, or make requests that reestablished the 
balance. 
For example, it was suggested by King Stefin of Okrannel that envoys should be sent 
to Gyrvirgul to enlist the aid of the Gyrkyme, but Jentellin objected strongly, claiming the 
Gyrkyme were nothing but beasts and should not be included. Now I would have 
thought the usefulness of creatures that are, in essence, winged elves, would have been 
obvious, but Jentel-lin said that elves will in no way have anything to do with a force that 
included Gyrkyme in it. 
I guess I understood, then, the elven objection. Back when Kirun ruled Aurolan, he 
captured a number of noble elven warriors and compelled them, through magick, to lie 
with Araft as a husband lies with his wife. Araft are savage, bestial 
creatures, with 
fully fledged human bodies, but wings instead 
of arms and legs that end in claws and 
talons. In some stories they are said to have comely faces, and in others are said to be 
hags, but all are female, and these Araft laid several clutches of hybrid eggs that 
hatched and created the Gyrkyme. The elves consider the whole population of them 
nothing but rapeget, and no more accept them than I imagine men would accept the 
offspring of a sheep that had been covered by a shepherd. 
Panqui were another species of creature that was deemed too bestial to be effective,

so they were not included in the force. The Spritha were seen as being too small to be 
effective and too carefree to be suitably martial. And dragons, well, no one wanted to 
involve dragons no matter how much they might help. The question of dragons trusting 
men after Atval was an open one, but the reasons for leaving them out ran deeper than 
that. 
It seemed obvious to everyone that one of the goals of the Aurolani forces moving at 
Okrannel had to be the recovery of the piece of Kiruns DragonCrown that had been 
stored there. The DragonCrown had allowed Kirun to control an army of dragons. A 
single piece would allow a powerful enough magician 
to control at least one dragon, so 
an ally could potentially be turned into an enemy in the blink of an eye. 
Aside from men and elves, the only other species allowed into the force were the 
urZrethi. The urZrethi are small-statured creatures, proportioned as are human children. 
Their flesh takes on mineral colors, like the green and black of malachite, 
the black of 
coal, or the red of cinnabar. The one who joined the inner circle, a female named 
Faryaah-Tse Kimp, was a sulfurous yellow, with black hair and eyes that showed red 
where there should have been whites. Despite being slender, small, and very childlike, 
she had a weight to her that belied her form. 
The urZrethi and elves usually did not get along well, but Jentellin welcomed them 
into the coalition primarily because they had a garrison company at Fortress Draconis. 
Without the urZrethi, the fortress would fall, because the urZrethi were builders and 
tunnelers, which suited them perfectly to fortifying 
the fortress and fighting against 
sappers from Aurolan. Faryaah-Tse would command that unit when we reached 
Fortress 
Draconis, and until then would serve as one of Lord Norringtons advisors. 
The planning of the campaign took a long time, was punctuated 
by various 
arguments, and was full of boring details through which I began to sleep. I felt the most 
sorry for Nay because he had very little in the way of background for understanding 
all 
the details. Leigh and I could deal with it a bit more easily, but it still numbed us. Since 
meetings went late, then commenced again early in the morning, most of the sleep we 
got was in fits and starts, which left me tired and anxious. 
The end of our Moon Month also sank me in melancholy. The end of the Moon Month 
was supposed to be a time of celebration with family and friends. By the time I received 
my first adult mask, my course in life should have been plotted. I should have already 
had an invitation from a military unit to join it, but I didnt. I had no doubt that being 
part of the Knights of the Phoenix would benefit me, but I had no idea how at that point. 
Id done a lot in the first two-thirds of my Moon Month, but since then Id done almost 
nothing. 
I also realized I was homesick and missing my family. Just as I got my moonmask 
from my father, so I was supposed to get my harvestmask from him, or an older 
brother, or the oldest male relative available. That clearly wasnt going to happen 
for 
me. Even more depressing was my assumption that because I was not part of a military 
unit, I wasnt going to be part of the crusade against Aurolan. The only individuals 
being 
talked about for the crusade were heroes such as Lord Norrington, with Nay, 
Leigh, and myself going completely un-mentioned in the Councils of Kings. 
The events that began the night I got my moonmask were going to end, leaving me 
alone to wander back to Valsina and oblivion. 
Leigh had no such worries. There seemed to be no question 
that he would 
accompany his father on the expedition. More important than that was the gold ring 
worked with the Norrington crest that Princess Ryhope gave him to celebrate the end of 
his Moon Month. It had a ruby set where a heart appeared in the crest and certainly must 
have cost a small fortune. Id spent two gold pieces to buy him a silver gorget, which he 
actually wore, but he consistently admired the ring, polishing the stone against his

jerkin, then holding his hand out to look at the light glinting from it. 
Nay also seemed to be carefree as our Moon Month came to an end. When he and I 
chatted and exchanged gifts, I got a look at things from his perspective. Only figured to 
be a soldier, and that will happen. All elseAtval, Yslinthats a lifetime for me. If 
claimed by Death tomorrow, Im further along than anyone would have ever suspected. 
Nay did like his coat, and he gave me the small boot knife hed carried with him from 
Valsina. Wanted to get one for you here, but none were good enough. Made this one 
myself. Not the best, but it holds an edge good and wont fail you. 
Thanks. I slid it away in my right boot. If the trip home is at all like the trip out 
here, it will be more than useful. 
Leigh gave the both of us thick, black blankets woven in wool from Naliserro. The 
Nalisk workmanship was flawless, and even looking at the blanket I felt warm. Having 
seen what festival merchants wanted for them when I was looking at gifts, I knew Leigh 
had spent more than his father had given him. I also sensed hed actually thought a lot 
about his choice, not just going with the first thing he saw. I felt as if he wanted us to 
have the blankets to keep us warm and comfortable on our trip home, which I 
appreciated. 
It also drove me crazy because it underlined the fact that wed be going back to 
Valsina while he was traveling the world and destroying the Aurolani threat. I had 
wandered down into the inns common room and was sitting alone, sipping a bitter ale, 
thinking about all that when Severus indolent son, Desid, came downstairs and found 
me. 
Beg pardon, master, but His Lordship asked for you. 
I nodded, left the tankard of ale where it was, and slowly trudged up the stairs. With 
each step my heart sank, so that by the time Id reached the top of the stairs, it felt as if 
my heart were back drowning in my ale. Despite feeling hollow inside, I straightened up 
and forced a smile on my face. I knocked on the door and entered when bidden. 
Lord Norrington turned in his chair, setting a quill pen down on the desk beneath his 
right elbow. Thank you for coming, Hawkins . . . Tarrant. Please, be seated. 
I sat on the foot of the bed. You wanted to see me? 
Yes, I did. His voice came easy and he even sounded a bit pleased. Today your 
Moon Month ends and you are to receive your harvestmask. Prince Scrainwoodat the 
urging of his sister, I suspectasked if I would mind if he gave Bos-leigh his mask. It 
was an honor I could not refuse, and I knew Leigh would make my life difficult if I did. 
Hes off at Fortress Gryps now. 
I blinked. And youre not there? I mean, I would have thought . . . 
Lord Norrington raised a hand. Leigh knows I am proud of him, but I want him to be 
the center of attention. After all, if I fall in this expedition, hell be the Norrington who 
will have to fulfill the prophecy, right? 
I nodded. 
Duke Larner will be granting Naysmith his harvestmask. I gather that the bladesmith 
who taught Nay once forged a special 
sword for the Duke, hence the connection there. 
He smiled and opened the central drawer in the writing desk. I know that the senior 
male relative wherever you are is supposed 
to grant you your harvestmask. As you 
know, my father died when I was very young, so your father trained me and very much 
was as a father to me. While my unclethe man who would become my father-in-law, 
as wellgranted me my harvestmask, I felt your father was the one who allowed me to 
earn it. And you and Leigh spent so much time together I often thought of you as 
brothers and I ... well, I hope your father will not mind my usurping his role here. 
From the drawer he drew a brown leather mask, not that much different from my 
moonmask, save that the brow portion 
had been nearly doubled in size. Above the

eyeholes an inch-wide strip of gibberkin fur had been added, and two temeryx feathers, 
both black, dangled from either side of the mask. If I were to look at it today I would 
see it as very plain, but at that time it was the most beautiful thing Id ever seen. 
I reached up and unknotted the thongs holding my moon-mask on. I remembered my 
father admonishing me not to bare my face for anyone save family, but I could not 
imagine him objecting to my showing it to Lord Norrington. Leighs father glanced down 
toward the ground as I removed my mask, allowing me my modesty. I took my 
harvestmask from him and pressed its cool suede underside to my face. Lord Norrington 
moved around behind me and tied it securely. 
Now and forever, he said, this mask will proclaim to others who and what you are. 
What once hid us from our enemies now reveals us to our friends. Wear it with pride and 
always honor the generations who have fought and died to provide you with the mask. 
I nodded solemnly, then smiled as he returned to his desk. Thank you, my lord. 
It was my pleasure, Tarrant. He smiled, then reached out and patted me on a knee. 
Of course, I know the tradition of giving a gift to someone receiving his harvestmask, 
but Ive had little time to consider what I should give you. If you have a suggestion, I 
would love to hear it. 
Hope sparked in my chest and made my heart leap. My lord, there is no thing I 
would have of you, but a chance, an opportunity; for me, and . . . and for Nay. Please, 
my lord, let us see to the finish what we started a month ago. Let us go on the Okrannel 
expedition. We wont be trouble, well do whatever you want, whatever you need. 
Lord Norrington sat back. Im afraid I cant do that. 
But 
He held up a hand. Hear me out. You would let me acquit my duty to you too easily. 
You and Nay will be going with Leigh and methat was decided long ago. 
What? When? Why? 
As I understand it, there are nuances to the elven language 
that are beyond my 
understanding. For example, the word translated as washed in the phrase washed in 
flame could also be born.  
That refers to your initiation into the Knights of the Phoenix, doesnt it? 
Among those who know, that is what is believed, yes. In any event, part of the 
prophecy, when studied, is an allusion to an elven tale that involves three companions. 
He shrugged his shoulders easily. Know you this, however: I would have demanded the 
three of you accompany me. I cant imagine a Norrington going off to do battle without 
a Hawkins at his side, and Naysmith is stalwart and sensible enough to keep you and 
Leigh out of trouble. 
I nodded. And there will be trouble aplenty. I narrowed my eyes. Some people, like 
Prince Scrainwood and Prince Augustus, seem to think well be finished with this fight 
before the first winter snows fly. 
We can hope they are right, but Im planning to dress warmly. Lord Norrington 
inked his quill and scratched a note onto the foolscap. However, that matters not at the 
moment. You have yet to tell me what I can give you. 
I shook my head as nothing Id seen over the last weeks suggested itself to me. I 
dont know, my lord. I guess, perhaps, 
maybe ... I drew in a deep breath, then let it 
out slowly and licked my lips. I would like your trust, my lord. I would like you to know 
I will never fail you or betray you. If I could have your trust, that would be everything 
for me. 
Lord Norrington sat stock still for a moment, then chewed on his lower lip. Very well, 
you have it. I may yet decide there are things you are not to know, but that is not 
because I do not trust you with them, but that I wish you to have enough perspective to 
understand them. I will tell you nothing that will hurt you unless you need to know it.

Thank you, my lord. I dropped to a knee before him, took his right hand in mine, 
and kissed the Norrington crest ring on his finger. I will guard your trust as I will guard 
your life, unto my last breath, my last drop of blood, and my last thought. 
He stood and pulled me to my feet. Norrington and Hawkins 
heading north to face 
Chytrine and her Aurolani hordes. If only she knew what was coming, shed already be 
running, and our glorious war would be over before brave blood flows. y joy at being 
included in the expedition knew no bounds, and kept me going throughout the next two 
weeks. A soothsayer could have come to me and predicted dire things, but Id not have 
believed and wouldnt have cared. I was to be part of a grand crusade that would rid the 
world forever of a scourgea scourge that cast a vast, cold shadow over all of us. What 
we would do would live on forever in history. 
The two weeks we had to organize the expedition were full of chaos, joys, and 
disappointments. It was also full of discoveries 
for me. First was getting to see the ships 
of the fleet and actually stepping onto a seagoing vessel. Jerana, Alcida, and Saporcia 
supplied the vast majority of the ships for the fleet, including wallowing merchant craft 
and long, sleek war galleys. 
The merchantmen relied primarily on sail to move them, 
though they did have a couple of long sweeps that could maneuver 
them in port or 
when totally becalmed. The merchantmen 
were loaded with foodstuffs, wine, grain for 
the horses, and two were outfitted to carry heavy cavalry units from Jerana 
and Alcida. 
Prince Augustus commanded the latter com-pany and shipped aboard the Running 
Brook, which was named after the estate that housed the Princes Horse Guards. 
The war galleys did have a single mast and could travel well on a wind, but relied on 
oarsmen to propel them in combat. Three men to an oar, twenty oars to a side, the ship 
could cruise at five knots an hour and hit bursts of twelve knots when closing with an 
enemy ship. Bow and aft towers allowed the ships troops to shoot their crossbows down 
on the decks of any ships they were attacking. At the bow, an extension of the bowsprit 
formed a beak which, in close combat, 
could sheer off another galleys oars. More 
important, it could crush through the wall of shields on the ships railing, and was wide 
enough to allow boarders to run across it and jump down onto the enemy deck. 
Two pairs each of swivel-mounted grand crossbows were set fore and aft to shoot 
meter-long quarrels that could punch through shields and decking. Grapnels linked to 
stout line or steel chain were ready to catch hold of an enemy ship and keep it close. 
Two small mangonels on wheeled platforms could be moved about and used to toss 
canisters of napthalm, a pitch-like substance that burned fiercely, onto another ship, or 
scatter 
about small calthrops which would stick in the decking and tear up the feet of 
barefooted crewmen. 
From the wharves it was difficult to gain a good perspective 
on the fleet, but I got a 
chance to ride in the basket slung beneath one of the balloons in Yslin. Our ascent was 
pretty easy and took me much higher than the other basket Id ridden 
in. We rose 
swiftly, leaving me feeling as if Id left my stomach somewhere back on the ground. Still, 
watching people 
shrink to the size of ants and watching buildings become as tiny as a 
childs playhouse was incredible. It struck me that Gyrkyme had the opportunity to see 
the world this way all the time, and I could only hope it always remained as magical for 
them as it was for me. 
In addition to its crew of a hundred forty men, and a marine company of thirty, each 
of the galleys could take with it one additional company of thirty warriors. The 
Bodyguard units we were using were made up of roughly two companies, so a pair of 
galleys would be needed to move a single unit. A single merchantman carried supplies 
that would provide for ten galleys, so we only needed four in our convoy, but we 
doubled that number since we assumed supplies would be needed by people in 
Okrannel, or by ourselves if we became involved in an extended campaign there. That

count of eight merchantmen did not include the two stable ships. 
Forty-eight ships with multicolored hulls and sails lay at anchor in Yslin harbor, 
waiting for us to head out. We knew more ships from Loquellyn would join us, but we 
were not certain how many of the elven vessels would be sent to us. The urZrethi had no 
ships and, truth be told, Faryaah-Tse Kimp didnt look as if she wanted anything to do 
with the ocean. Still, the human component of the convoy would have twenty-four 
hundred combat troops and over double that number of sailors, who could be given 
swords and brought into combat if needed. It was a considerably large army and would 
be welcome 
relief to the defenders in Okrannel. 
At least, thats what I thought, but rumors spreading through the expeditionary force 
suggested otherwise. People said that Chytrine, who was at once identified as Kiruns 
daughter or consort or both, had raised a vast horde of creatures 
that was even now 
overrunning Okrannel. It was even suggested that the messages coming from Svarskya 
were false, that no troops still awaited attack there, but that Chytrine had people sending 
hopeful messages to lure us into a trap. 
Lord Norrington dismissed that idea instantly. It makes no sense for her to allow 
messages that warn us of her horde to be sent forth, since that would allow us to oppose 
her. And no one in Jerana is reporting an influx of refugees, which would be expected if 
Okrannel had collapsed. Moreover, as King Stefin has noted, the messages are coming 
from his son, Prince Kirill. He says that if Chytrine has been able to train someone to 
think and write like Kirill, shed be capable of other very difficult tasks and we should all 
just lose heart now. 
Lord Norrington did not play down other reports, though, of Chytrine having created 
an elite band of leaders for her troops, which she called the sullanciri. Men generally 
called them Dark Lancers and said they were renegade men, cunning vylaens, or some 
gibberkin magickally endowed with intelligence. 
There had been sightings of these 
malignant warriors in Okrannel, but details were vague. Rumor had it that Chytrine fed 
them their own shadows, which made them powerful and immortal, and that each had 
some special power it could use to defeat its foes. 
That rumor could well be true, Leighs father admitted, but to put too much stock 
in it is not good. Heslin will tell you that magick can always be countered or dispelled, 
and that spells are tricky things and can be quite literal. A spell that will blind fifty men 
might leave women with vision, or children, or elves. And in any event, a magicker with 
an arrow fixed in him is seldom good at casting spells. 
Part of me shivered at the idea of facing magickally strengthened foes, but another 
part accepted it. After all, if Chytrine could create truly immortal warriors, shed have 
come south and conquered everything ages ago. It could be that such magicks had only 
recently been invented or perfected, 
but if they existed shed not have needed the 
scouting groups that had come down through Oriosa. No, I decided, her magicks might 
give some of her troops an edge, but there had to be a limit to even her power. 
The preparations continued apace and without much in the way of upset until the eve 
of departure. The plan had been finalized earlier that day in the Kings Council. Prince 
Scrainwood was given command of the whole expedition, though Lord Norrington was 
the warlord and would make all the decisions having to do with combat. He would be 
shipping aboard the Alcidese ship Invictus, while Prince Scrainwood traveled on the 
Jeranese ship Venator. That suited me fine, since the further he was from me, the better 
I liked it. 
The expedition would head with all possible speed to Okrannel, intent on relieving 
Crozt. From there we would move down the coast to Svarskya and lift any Aurolani 
siege. After that, as determined by communications from Fortress Draconis, we would 
either sail east to bolster the fortress garrison, 
or raid the Ghost Marches and shatter

the pirate havens there. 
On the eve of our departure, I traveled with Leigh, Nay, Lord Norrington, and others 
to the largest of the Kedyn temples 
in Yslin. Night had already fallen as we made our 
way up the granite steps. I was running through in my mind the things Id seen and the 
stories Id heard, and trying to think what I would offer for a prayer when I bumped into 
someone. I bounced back down a step, smiled and offered a Beg pardon, 
by reflex. 
Resolute nodded quietly. I should have expected your preoccupation. 
I saw Nay turn back and look at me from the top of the stairs, but I waved him on. 
Have you just come from making a sacrifice? 
To Kedyn? No. The elf shook his head. The god I know that fills Kedyns niche in 
our pantheon does not suck incense and gather around him dead warriors the way old 
men gather pigeons when they spread stale bread about. 
I tried to hid my reaction to the scorn in his voice, but Im not sure I managed it at all 
well. Why are you here, then? 
I came to speak with you. He lifted his chin and bared his throat. Jentellin informed 
Amends of the plans for your campaign. 
Yes, its all very exciting, isnt it? 
Exciting, I suppose, but that is not for me to discover. 
What? 
I wont be going with you. 
I rocked back a step and half-stumbled to the next level. You wont be going? Why 
not? I mean, this is it, this is the chance to strike back at Chytrine. This is the chance to 
destroy her. 
I know. His silver eyes reflected the thin sliver of a new moon. My goal has never 
been her death. My goal is the liberation of my homeland. As noble and good as your 
cause is, it is not my cause. I know you will acquit yourself well. Chytrine will regret her 
action, but Vorquellyn will still be under her control. 
I shook my head. But, dont you see? Once we break her army, well clean the pirates 
out of the Ghost Marches. Once we do that, we will isolate Vorquellyn and can take it 
back. 
Doing this gets us one step closer to freeing Vorquellyn. You have to see that, 
Resolute. 
No, Hawkins, I dont have to see that. What I do see is that the same sort of success 
against her a century ago did not free Vorquellyn. If I go, if I agree, I am saying that a 
partial effort is sufficient, and I cannot say that. If I do, then Amends and Jentellin will 
know Ive lost my resolve. I never will. I am Resolute; it is my name and it is me. As 
much as I want to go with you, I cannot until an expedition is sent to free my home. 
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I understand what you are saying. I wish I 
could convince you otherwise. Having at least one Vorquelf with us would have 
frightened Chytrine so much shed already be retreating. 
Vorquelves will travel with you, fight with you. I am seen as extreme by some of my 
own kind, but Ill accept that burden. 
He opened a pouch on his belt and withdrew a 
patch of fur. He handed it to me. I took this from one of the gibberers you slew. Lord 
Norrington asked me for a strip of it for your mask. This piece I give to you for inside 
the temple, for your sacrifice. 
I frowned. Ill buy incense . . . 
Listen to me, Tarrant Hawkins, listen well. Here Kedyn is shepherd to ghosts, and 
even in your land he is a proud guardian. 
You forget he embodies war. He is flesh and 
blood and boneall the things we saw and did at Atval. He is the master of it all and 
offerings of incense are just too polite for him. Burn this, Hawkins, let the stink of it drift 
from you to him. Hell know that you know the truth of war. He will remember you.

When Death hands him the roll of who will be called, hell strike your name from the list. 
Youll be saved for great things, and terrible things. 
I shivered, then looked him in the eye. Is this how you survive? 
The elf laughed, and it was not a wholly pleasant sound. One of the ways, yes. He 
slapped me on the arm. Good luck, Hawkinsbrave heart, clear eye, and sharp blade. 
Your name will be on everyones lips when this expedition ends. 
Right. Then you and I go and liberate Vorquellyn. 
That we will. The elf tossed me a quick salute, then skipped off down the stairs. 
I stroked my thumb across the mottled fur as I entered the temple. I paid for two 
charcoal shields and incense, then walked down to the statue of Kedyn. I knelt at the 
base, then looked up into the unseeing eyes set in a handsome face. The armored 
breastplate covering his torso had been carved with dozens of faces and it was easy to 
imagine they were matched by smaller statues in the long hall behind Kedyn. Looking 
between the statues feet I could see warriors choking the gallery, 
burning incense and 
lighting candles. 
My flesh puckered. Using my charcoal shields, I scraped several glowing coals 
together into a pile. I sprinkled a little incense on it, just to get Kedyns attention, then I 
tossed the small patch of fur over them. The fur itself began to curl into little knots. The 
acrid scent of burning fur exploded up into my face as the fur caught fire. I coughed and 
my eyes watered, but I watched the column of smoke rise and caress the statues face. 
With my hands in their proper places, I bowed my head. Kedyn, on this, the eve of a 
great expedition, I ask of you nothing that I have not asked before. Grant me the 
opportunity 
to prove myself to be brave and a boon companion to those who fight on 
my side. May I always see my duty and acquit it, without hesitation. If it is your will that 
I survive, in this I will be pleased. If I am to die, let me do so facing my enemy. Steady 
my hand, shield me from pain, and let all glory and honor be yours. 
I looked back up, but saw no sign that my prayer had been heard. While Resolute 
could have been right, that offering that sacrifice would bring me favorable notice with 
Kedyn, part of me assumed that being ignored by the gods wasnt much worse than 
being noticed by them. Countless were the tragic tales in which the gods chose to make 
a mans life interesting. Heading off to war, I didnt need the help of the gods to make 
my life more interesting. 
As it turned out, what I needed and what I got were two different things entirely. 
Te sailed with the tide and it came early, so we were out on | the open sea before the 
rising sun splashed bloody highlights 
over the calm water. The cries of seagulls, the dull 
booming of the stroke-drums and the crisp snap of canvas filled the dawn, but all played 
as accents over the consistent hiss of water against the hull. I stood on the forecastle of 
the Invictus, feeling the wind against my face. 
We were off, at last, bound for a glorious war. You could read the enthusiasm on 
everyones faces, including the sailors pulling at the oars. We were the select force that 
would make the world safe. Our mission was clear, it was simple and we would do it. 
Men dared boast of the creatures they would kill and talk about the riches they would 
win. By the time snow flew wed all be home, warming ourselves before fires, spinning 
tale after tale for friends and family. 
Even now, though, as I look back on that first morning, there were signs of trouble I 
should have seen. We almost didnt leave that morning because of a conflict among 
some of the captains. A number of them, from Jerana mostly, said our fleet should make 
an offering to the weirun of the sea, Tagothcha. Without such an offering he could turn 
the wind and water against us, stretching out what would be a weeks journey into a 
month or more. A gallon of wine, a slain pig, a scattering of gold coins, any of those 
would have been enough to appease him.

The Alcidese captains countered that Tagothcha slept during 
the summer, and offers 
made to him during that time might wake him. The annual autumn storm season was 
pointed to as evidence that Tagothcha was not pleasant while still half-asleep. It was well 
known, they pointed out, that waves on the ocean were the furrows on Tagothchas 
brow, and while he slept they were small. If he awakened angry, however, his frown 
could sink ships. 
Lord Norrington, who knew little of Tagothchas ways because 
our nation is 
landlocked, sided with the Alcidese contingent. 
None of us had any doubt the weirun 
existed and would be a nasty enemy if he opposed us, but leaving him alone seemed the 
wiser course. We sailed quietly, hoping the sea-spirit would think us nothing more than a 
dream. 
The trip itself did have dreamlike qualities, though not for Leigh. Nay and I seemed to 
weather the ships bobbing up and down at anchor, or the surge and crash of making 
headway against wavelets. Leigh turned a most unnatural shade of grey and spent much 
of his time at the wales, making his own offerings to Tagothcha, as the sailors put it. He 
looked miserable 
and said he felt worse. He managed to keep down some watered wine 
and porridge, though not much of either, and he started losing weight. 
Late on the first day we sailed past Vilwan, the island magickers proclaimed as their 
own. While each nation, and even each town, had a magicker or two capable of teaching 
those who had the Spark how to work magicks, Vilwan was the place where the most 
talented came, to learn and create and teach. We did not venture close to it, and the 
rocky cliff-sides were not terribly inviting. Moreover, what should have been green 
hillsides in the islands interior were patched with yellow and red and purple and blue 
vegetation. Heslin, who said hed gone to Vilwan once, when much younger, assured me 
there was nothing unusual about the odd-colored plants. I humored him, but still 
shivered when I glanced at the island. 
A little ship did join us, sailing out from Vilwan. It had no oars and only a small sail, 
but caught up with us easily enough and maintained the fleets pace. Twenty or so men 
and women, mostly all human, crewed the ship, with five of them taking a two-hour 
shift at a time. Everyone in the fleet soon realized they were moving their ship by 
magick, and when we translated the effort of our crew into what five of them were doing 
at any one time, well, we were suddenly happy to have them along as allies in the fight. 
Early the second day I found our Vorquelf on the forecastle. 
Her long, black hair 
streamed behind her and her gold eyes burned with the light from the rising sun. She 
wore hunting 
leathers of a deep blue and had a gold earring dangling from her right 
earlobe. Id recognized her from Resolutes trial and had been told her name was Seethe. 
She smiled at me as I leaned against the rail next to her. Good morning, Master 
Hawkins. 
And you, Mistress Seethe. 
Seethe is enough. Adult honorifics are denied Vor-quelves. 
I caught no anger or regret in her voice, just a calm recitation 
of facts. Would you 
mind if I asked how you came to join us? I mean, from your name, it is so like 
Resolutes, that I would have thought you would have remained behind as he did. 
She laughed lightly and pulled a lock of hair away from where the wind had strung it 
against her mouth. I was told it was my destiny to go, much as you were. Oracle, the 
elf your friend touched, is my sister. She told me I would be accompanying 
you. The 
prospect seemed to no more please her than it did me, but prophecy is prophecy. 
I am glad you have come along. I picked at the railing with my thumbnail. Oracles 
name seems descriptive of what she is, and Resolute as well. How did you get your 
names? You dont seem that angry. 
Youve not seen me when I am angry, but you will. Her eyes half closed as she

smiled sidelong at me. Some of us are given our names, some of us take them. You 
have to understand 
that when an elf is born in one of the homelands, she is tied to that 
homeland forever. When we are ritually bound to the homeland, we enter a pact with the 
land that provides us power but demands of us responsibility. The conquest of 
Vor-quellyn barred those of us who were too young from ever becoming bonded to our 
homeland, isolating us from power. 
She pointed off at the Vilwanese vessel. Magick and magickal power are tricky things. 
Heslin will tell you that when he completed his training he was given another name, a 
secret name. Think of it as a key that unlocks a doorway to power. For him it is a small 
key and a small doorway, but that is enough for him. When we are bonded to our land, 
we, too, get a secret name that lets us access power. The names, of course, remain 
secret, because anyone who knows our secret name gains a certain amount of power 
over us. 
The Vorquelves who were bonded to the island were in great pain when they were 
driven from it. They headed west, always west. It is believed, among us, that there are 
many worlds and that when we move from this one we will find another where elves 
dwell. If that is the world meant for us, we will stay and flourish. If not, we will move on 
to the next world and the world beyond that, forever seeking our true home. Being 
unbonded, we were denied this ability to travel to these otherwheres. Since that is very 
much the essence of being 
an elf, we are not elves. 
She sighed. We have chosen names from the human common 
tongue, names that 
define us. We make these names known because taking that risk opens to us greater 
avenues of power than would a secret name. It is a dangerous game, of course, but our 
power offers us some protection. 
If you have that much power, why dont you just take Vorquellyn again? 
She stared out to sea and shook her head. Different people 
use their power in 
different ways. Amends seeks conciliation 
and cooperation. Oracle peers into the future. 
Predator squanders his power in an effort to control an urban swamp. Resolute uses his 
to kill and kill and kill. And you are right, Im not far removed from him, for my goal is 
to kill and kill and kill. But, the various directions we all take divides our power and does 
not let us direct it at the goal we all profess to cherish. 
As we spoke the convoy slid past the thickly jungled fastness 
of Vael. Tall peaks rose 
along the narrow islands central spine, with their grey tips piercing the clouds that 
gathered around them. None of the mariners on the trip could tell us much about the 
island, save that it was home to dragons and panqui. Panqui were supposed to be 
hulking, semntelligent beasts that were said to have been created by dragons as a 
parody of men. Panqui lived peacefully in the mountain fastnesses 
dragons stole from 
the urZrethi, or so the old tales went, with the panqui proving powerful enough on the 
defensive 
to make them too difficult for men to fight, thereby insulating 
dragons from 
human expeditions. 
The stories sailors told of panqui pirates certainly did make them sound very fierce, 
but all the tales were at one remove, with none of the speakers ever having seen a 
panqui, much less having fought one. I really had no desire to see pirate galleys full of 
armed and armored monsters coming at us, especially when those same creatures were 
favored by dragons. 
Even so, I kept my eyes sweeping over Vael in the vain hopes I 
might spot something unusual. 
I saw nothing and was disappointed, not realizing that in the days to come, seeing 
nothing would have been welcome indeed. 
The third day at sea took us east of the island of Wruona. It was a well-known pirate 
haven with tricky shoals and hidden 
coves that made clearing it out very difficult. We 
slid past without incident, but Lord Norrington noted that if the Wruonin freebooters had

reached an accommodation with Chytrine, chances were very good that they might use 
arcan-slata to let her know we were on our way. 
I took it as a good thing, then, that later that day, as the sun began to set, two silvery 
Loquellyn galleys moved to join us. The ships had been made of silverwood, a type of 
tree with silvery flesh that only grew in the elven homelands. Things made of it, like 
boxes or frames or chests or chairs were highly prized. They were seldom awarded to 
men, and only after the elves decided a man had performed a valuable service for them. 
What I found most interesting about the Loquellyn ship was its form. Man-galleys 
resembled swans, after a fashion, in that they rode on the surface. The elven ships form 
mimicked that of the sea creature known as a shark. The ships prow sloped down into a 
broad ram that remained just below the waters surface. One fighting tower rose in the 
center, just forward of the mast, and another in the aft. It had no oars visible in the 
water, but rowers occupied their places in the ship, same as they did in ours, and they 
even pulled long handles. I later learned the oars they pulled were attached to gears and 
belts that drove massive hidden paddlewheels to speed the ship along. 
Dawn of the last day showed us just coming around the Loquellyn headlands. Wed 
skirt the Okrans coast on the west, then head north to Crozt. We had one more day to 
go, as the breeze from the south had allowed us to make a steady five knots an hour. 
The same journey by horse would have taken two weeks, and that would have been only 
if wed not had mountains, rivers or other obstacles to contend with. 
In the early afternoon, dark clouds began to gather to the north and the wind died. 
With the oars the ships still made headway, but debate soon began as to whether or not 
we should make for the coast and seek shelter in a harbor. Before that decision could be 
made, however, the spotters in the crows nests called down that they saw something 
else: Auro-lani sails, full of wind, coming our way. 
Orders were immediately given and everyone sprang into action. The merchantmen 
were dispatched with an escort of four galleys to head for a safe harbor. The rest of the 
fleet formed itself into a line and drove north to meet the approaching 
enemy. Buckets 
of water were drawn from the ocean and splashed over the decks to wet them down and 
make them less liable to burn if the enemy used napthalm. And, conversely, our 
Mastermarine started to boil up some of the flammable liquid. 
All the warriors on board donned their armor, and I almost 
went without greaves 
and bracers or my mail because if I fell in the water, Id sink like a stone. A passing 
sailor, who apparently read my concern on my face, laughed and said, Youll not be 
swimming at all with a topped arm or chopped leg, so gird yourself well. I followed his 
advice, then mounted the steps to the forecastle, arming myself with my bow. 
Sailors hung steel shields along the wales and erected mantlets 
to ward them from 
enemy arrows. They armed themselves 
with shortswords and a couple had poleaxes, 
which they would use to chop through grappling lines from another ship. A squad of 
marines in heavy armor waited in the forecastle for our ship to ram into an Aurolani 
galley. Once the beak extended 
over the enemy deck, theyd boil forth and board the 
other ship. Then those of us atop the forecastle would cast grappling lines over and 
secure the ships together, allowing the rest of us to dash over and help the marines. 
Crouched behind the tower wale, peeking out from between 
shields, I saw the enemy 
fleet looming closer. Their fleet consisted of some larger ships that would have seemed 
nothing 
more than buckets bobbing up and down, save that an evil red light glowed 
from within hatches and portholes, as if hellish 
fires burned in their bellies. Two dozen 
galleys made up the bulk of the fleet, twelve to a wing, and they spread out to try and 
flank our formation. Smaller boats, designed to be quick and highly maneuverable, 
occupied much of the center. Each of them seemed to have a ballista for shooting fiery 
missiles 
at us, a dozen archers, and twice that number of gibberers waiting to scramble

up onto our ships and wreak havoc. 
I glanced back at the aftdeck and saw Nay, all armored up and hefting his maul, 
standing with Lord Norrington. Of Leigh I saw nothing, but as sick as hed been, it didnt 
surprise me. If hed been able to dress himself I would have been astonished, 
and that 
exertion would have worn him out so much that he couldnt have lifted a sword. 
Down below the captain bellowed orders. The sail was reefed, then drawn down 
completely. The speed-drums pounding quickened to help us close the distance with the 
enemy fleet. Lord Norrington shouted another order, which the sergeant on the 
forecastle repeated, bringing us archers to our feet. We sighted and let fly. 
The crossbowmen loosed their volley at one of the big brigs. Gibberers on the 
foredeck pitched and reeled away. One creature near a ballistaa vylaen, I thinkfell 
back, and his weight yanked the lanyard wrapped around his hand. The siege machines 
arm came up, hurling a stone in the air and, in a shorter, more shallow arc, the flailing 
form of the gibberer that had been loading the stone into the ballista likewise flew. 
Since my bow did not have the range of the crossbows, I picked a closer target. I 
sank an arrow into the belly of a small boats helmsbeast. He stumbled back over the aft 
wale, grabbing 
at the tiller as he did so. His small ship swung quickly to the left, 
bringing it broadside to our surging line. The gibberer crew looked back to see what had 
happened, but before any of them could do anything to regain control of the ship, one of 
the elven galleys hit it amidships. The silverwood ship stove in the smaller ships side, 
snapped its keel, and scattered shattered 
pieces of flotsam in its wake. 
The speed-drums quickened their booming pace again, hurling our ship forward at 
ramming speed. I loosed another arrow, this time hitting a brig crewman. I ducked back 
quickly as a return volley from the brig arced up at the forecastle, then nocked another 
arrow, stood, and shot. We were so close I saw black blood splash on a white oak deck 
as the arrow pierced a gibberers neck. 
Then the Invictus slammed full on into the brig, throwing me forward against the rail. 
Our beak snapped the brigs wales, crushing one gibberer and battering others aside 
with wooden shrapnel. Below us marines screamed inhuman war cries and boiled out 
along the beak, leaping down to the enemy 
deck. Weapons drawn they began dealing 
death, with the rest of us shooting as fast as we could. 
The Battle of the Crescent Sea had been joined. 
I could tell you that arrows flew so thick that they blackened the sky, but the 
fast-approaching clouds did an admirable job of that all by themselves. Arrows and 
quarrels instead zipped about like lightning, striking a man here or there. Black shafts 
covered the forecastle like quills on a stickle-hog. An arrow clanged off my helm, 
dropping me to the deck. A man landed next to me, two arrows quivering in his chest, 
and another reeled away with an arrow in his eye and fell over the railing to the deck. 
It took a moment or two for me to shake my head and clear it. In that time I 
managed to look west along our line. Ships burned in the distance, and I could not make 
out if they were ours or those of the enemy. Closer I saw the smaller Aurolani ships 
closing with our galleys, launching grappling hooks up over the wales. Sailors on the 
Invictus hacked at the lines attached to them with poleaxes, but the grapnels fixed with 
stout chain did not break, and gibberers began to swarm up over the deck. 
Lord Norrington and Nay descended from the aftcastle and attacked the boarders 
savagely. Lord Norringtons silvery blade flashed left and right, cleaving ribs and flesh, 
laying open bel-lies and slicing through fanged muzzles. Blood sprayed from his blade in 
a wide arc. Wounded and dying gibberers clawed at severed limbs and clutched tightly at 
gaping holes in their flesh. 
Nay laid about with his maul, employing all the power he might have used to hammer 
hot steel. A lunge would impale a gibberer on his spike, then hed rip it free, parry a

sword cut with the weapons haft, then snap the head down hard, crushing 
a shoulder 
or ribs. When he swept the blade low, knees twisted and popped, legs snapped like oars 
trapped between ships. War cries became painful howls as he crushed muzzles at a 
stroke. 
I drew myself up on one knee and fitted arrow to bow, shooting into the swarms of 
gibberers pouring over the wales. Clear shots were not easy to find as the deck became 
choked with combatants. A quick twist between two wrestling fighters, and an arrow 
meant for a gibberers back might strike a sailor. I sought my targets among those just 
boarding the ship, or those seeking to slip behind my friends. The good thing was that I 
shot well, but the bad was that targets outnumbered my arrows. 
I was about to draw my sword and leap down to the deck when I felt a wave of heat 
wash up over my back. I turned, fearing a bucket of flaming napthalm had been 
splashed on the forecastle, but I saw no bright flames. Though the warmth built sharply, 
what I saw sank a chill into me. 
A massively huge man-thing emerged from the brigs hold, locking a colossal hand 
around the mast. The wood charred beneath its grip. It appeared to be a manNays 
size and then somebut its flesh was as black as cast iron. A shock of long red hair and 
a long red beard flowed from its head. All other color, from the burning intensity of its 
eyes to the places where shadows outlined the muscles of its bare arms, legs, and torso, 
was a purple so vibrant and deep it hurt to look at the thing. 
One of our marines raced at it with sword held high. As he brought the steel blade 
down, the creature brought its right arm up and took the cut on its forearm. The blade 
bit into the creatures flesh, but not deeply, and the impact rang loudly with the peal of 
metal on metal. The marine bounced back, glanced at his notched blade, then the 
creature clapped its metal hands, flattening the mans helm to the width of a dinner 
plate. 
The blood and brains that spattered it sizzled like fat in a hot skillet. Greasy smoke 
washed up into its beard and hair. The creature threw its head back as if to laugh, 
though no sound issued from its throat. It paused for a moment, then stalked across the 
deck. 
This was a sullartciri, a Dark Lancer. Its metal flesh moved as the muscles beneath it 
flexed and stretched. The unarmed figure stalked the brigs deck as quarrels flicked out, 
striking sparks as they hit, then bouncing away. Someone on another galley shot at him 
with a grand crossbow, but the creature snatched the yard-long shaft from the air and 
used it to pin a marine to the deck. 
The fearful shouts from our marines was suddenly matched by screeching from the 
gibberers on board the Invic-tus. Back by the aftcastle, Leigh had emerged from below 
decks. Stripped to the waist, wearing only mask, boots, and black leather breeches, he 
swung Temmer in a golden circle. Though I still saw the dark marks of fatigue beneath 
his eyes, he moved with a vitality Id not seen in him in days. Swinging through a 
forehanded blow, he opened a gibberer from hip to spine, then lunged to the left, 
punching through the breastbone 
to the heart of another. His blade came around in a 
parry, then whipped back up as if his arm was a spring. He laid his foe open from hip to 
hip, then glided forward, slicing here, stabbing there, hacking off a limb beyond. 
A man behind me screamed. I whirled, then fell back on my buttocks as the sullanciri 
came flying through the air toward the forecastle. It hit the tower hard, shaking it, and 
bouncing me across the deck. Its hands closed over the railing. The shields mounted 
there screamed as its grip bent them backwards. The Dark Lancer hauled itself up to the 
forecastle deck, then reached out and closed a hand over a paralyzed mans head. 
The sound of sizzling flesh overrode the mans muffled scream. A sharp crack 
exploded and sticky wetness covered me. The mans body dropped away. The sullanciri

opened its fist, looked at the crumpled ball of metal that had been a helmet, then cast it 
aside with the contempt of a child discarding 
an ugly rock. 
The creature slammed one metal fist against its chest and the peal cut through the din 
of battle. The gibberers looked up to the forecastle and howled. Leigh raised his bloody 
sword skyward in a challenge. The Dark Lancer waved Leigh forward, but my friend 
laughed contemptuously. Without looking, he flicked his blade out in a backhanded cut, 
decapitated a gib-berer sneaking up on him, then pointed to the main deck. 
The sullanciri leaped down from the forecastle, crushing oak decking and scattering 
several gibberers. It stalked forward. 
A terrible glee lit Leighs face as he stepped over 
bodies in his approach to the sullanciri. I rose to my feet as Leigh brought Temmer up 
into a guard and I noticed, for the first time, that the gold blades purple runes burned as 
intensely as the Dark Lancers eyes. 
Quick enough to be little more than a blur, Leigh struck. The Dark Lancers right arm 
came up to block. The gold blades arc slashed partway through the iron warriors flesh, 
half severing the limb above the wrist. The sullanciri recoiled, its left hand clutching right 
forearm. Purple fire oozed from between its fingers, dripping free, to splatter the deck 
with tiny flames. 
Leigh laughed aloud and snapped his blade toward a knot of gibberers. The purple 
gore sprayed out, igniting fur. Leigh used his free hand to wave the Dark Lancer 
forward. Youve met your match. Come and die. 
The sullanciri, while speechless, was not stupid. It stamped its right foot down, 
springing up several deck planks. One caught Leigh in the right knee, the other came up 
beneath his left foot, catapulting him into the air. When he came down, Leigh hit hard, 
landing with his back on a helmet. He bounced once, and Temmer twisted out of his 
grasp. Its gold glow faded, and a palsy shook Leigh. 
I stooped and snatched up a pair of grapnels, one in each hand. Whirling the one in 
my right hand by the chain, I arced it at the Dark Lancer. The grapnel arced out over 
the sullanciri
s right shoulder, then the chain attached to it began to wrap around his torso. 
The metal links clattered across its chest, then the grapnel swung up past the sullancirVs 
left hip and entangled its three tines on the chain. 
I gave the chain one violent jerk, rattling the bulk of it against the monsters chin. My 
turn, now. 
The sullanciri turned within the chains embrace, then reached out and wrapped the 
slack around its injured forearm. It gave the chain a little tug, which carried me to the 
forecastle rail. I let more of the chain slip between my fingers, stopping it from hauling 
me to the deck below. It smiled, then jiggled the chain again. 
I nodded and slid over the railing, then dropped to the deck in the forecastles 
shadow. Chains from both grapnels pooled at my feet. Beyond the Dark Lancer I could 
see Leigh crawling over the deck, his right hand reaching for Temmers hilt. Only Leigh 
and his sword could destroy this thingof that I felt certainbut I didnt know how long 
it would take Leigh to recover. 
I just had to buy him the time. 
I dropped to one knee and raked the grapnel in my left hand through the links of the 
other chain, and then through the anchor chain. I lashed out with my right hand, 
snapping the catch off the windlass, then launched myself in a forward somersault over 
the flailing chains. The anchors weight whipped the chains out through the little port, 
taking up all the slack in the chain Id hung on the sullanciri. 
For a heartbeat it looked as if my tactic might succeed. The chains tugging warped 
the sullanciris right forearm, allowing more of the fiery blood to gush from it. The Dark 
Lancer stumbled a couple of steps toward the bow. I rolled to the left to avoid being

trampled, but Chytrines creature hunched its shoulders, bent its powerful legs, and dug 
its heels into the deck. Yellow curls of wood gathered beneath the creatures heels as it 
hauled back, then twisted, catching the chain on its right shoulder and hauling its burden 
back toward midships. 
When it turned, it turned straight into Leigh. 
Leighs double-handed blow cleaved Temmer straight through the sullanciris left 
knee. In falling over, the severed limb shook the deck and cracked planks. Purple fire 
pulsed from the stump in gouts that crisped wood and ignited gib-berkin corpses. The 
anchors weight tugged at the unbalanced figure, dragging it off its one good leg. The 
sullanciri flopped onto its back, purple fire trailing in its wake as the anchor dragged it 
toward the wales. Leigh leaped through the jetting flames, raising his sword high as he 
flew. He hurtled through the air, all gold with purple highlights, as if he were some 
heroic statue in a temple to Kedyn. He stabbed Temmer down, driving it with all his 
strength through the monsters breast. The blade sank in to the hilt, with purple flames 
licking up around it, anchoring the sullanciri to the deck. 
Leigh, one knee on the monsters chest, screamed triumphantly. 
The golden glow 
and purple fire cast his face in a mask of martial fury. His expression was enough to 
send a half-dozen gibberers diving overboard. Laughing boldly, he raised his fists in 
victory. 
This broke his connection to the sword. 
He wavered, then slumped to the left and fell into my arms. 
I let Leigh slip to the deck, then drew my sword and bisected the first gibberer leaping 
at me over the sullanciris body. He flew past on my left, curling himself around his rent 
belly, then slammed into the forecastles wall and sagged to the deck. A sailors poleax 
split the skull of the next one, then Nay blasted through the wall of gibberers headed in 
my direction. Side by side, we shielded Leigh from their attacks. 
The sullanciris death had broken the spirit of many of the gibberers. A few remained 
to oppose us, but even they dove for their small boats as their support evaporated. We 
threw off their grapnels, happy to let them go, then laughed as someone shooting the 
grand crossbow drove a shaft through a hull and water geysered up. 
The black storm clouds broke over us and brought with them a bone-chilling rain. 
Thunder cracked, and the ships deck rocked. The howling wind drove sheets of rain at 
us and scoured the ships of blood. The only advantage was that it put out the few fires 
burning on our decks. 
The onslaught of the weather was as fearsome as it was sudden, and gave Lord 
Norrington no choice but to order the fleet to retreat to the harbor town where the 
merchantmen were waiting. He did send a prize crew onto the brig and had them sail the 
Aurolani ship after us. Our fleet captured a few other enemy ships, including two of their 
galleys. A couple of our galleys dragged the smaller ships back with them, not having 
the crew or time necessary to cast them off. 
We ran before the wind, making for Mirvostok. We came around a small headland and 
entered a narrow bay that was fed by a small river. The storm still raged over the 
landscape, but the ocean became far more calm within the harbor. Small fishing boats 
headed out toward us and guided us to safe moorings. Since the Invictus anchor had 
been fouled, we moored the ship to the Venator. Most folks thought we should have just 
cut the old anchor away and used the dead sullanciri in its place. 
Once in port, we moved Leigh to an inn, got him a hot bath, some soup, and a little 
ale. Nay and I stayed with him as he began to come around. His color improved, a little 
pink brightening the grey of his flesh. Despite strict orders from his father to remain in 
bed, Leigh dressed warmly and went out to the Invictus to recover his sword. He drew it 
from the sullanciri as if it had been sheathed in straw, then slid it home in its scabbard

and returned with us to the inn. 
Up in the room he collapsed on the bed. Nay pulled Leighs boots off, then Leigh 
crawled beneath a down comforter. 
He propped himself up on the pillows and nodded 
at Temmer, which hung by his sword belt over the nearest bedpost. Let me have it, 
please, Hawkins. He patted the bed beside him and I laid the blade there. 
He rested his hand on it and closed his eyes for a second. A look of serenity passed 
over his face. Thank you, my friend. 
My pleasure. 
He opened his eyes. His hand stroked Temmers hilt. Yes, you too, Hawkins. If not 
for your quick thinking, things would have been much more difficult. 
Nay frowned. If not for Hawkins, the Iron Prince would have had you gushing up 
between his toes. 
Leigh laughed. Ah, such a jest. I had Temmer back in hand quickly enough. 
Your quickly looked like sloth to me. If Hawkins hadnt dropped a chain on Wresak, 
youd have been done for. We all would have. 
Leigh blinked his eyes. Wresak . . . Yes, that was Wresak. 
I glanced at Nay. You know the sullanciris name? How? 
Tale told to armorers. King of Noriva had an ailing son named Wresak. The king got 
the idea that the artisans could create a metal body for his son. It would do for him what 
Temmer does for Leigh. The Prince, though, he didnt like how it felt in it. He got 
himself out and never used it again. It stayed in Norivas palace until Kreechuc attacked. 
Wresaks youngest great-grandson, also named Wresak, decided the Iron Prince could be 
used to defeat the Aurolani Horde. He fought against them initially, then his lust for 
power took over and he became Chytrines plaything. He destroyed his brothers, 
destroyed his nation. 
Leigh slowly nodded. I knew that story, but thought Id dreamed it. Perhaps I did 
dream it, with Temmer in hand. 
Nay frowned at Leighs musing, then shrugged. At least, I think thats who that was. 
If not, theres another one out there. 
Leighs eyes brightened. Bring him on. Ill carve him up as easily as I did this one. 
I exchanged a quick glance with Nay, then patted Leigh on the leg. Get some sleep. 
I looked past him and out the window at the rain pouring down. Well be here for a 
while. 
I got something to eat with Nay, then we went in search of Lord Norrington. We 
found him at another inn, in the company 
of Princes Augustus and Scrainwood, as well 
as a number of other advisors. Prince Scrainwood objected to our presence, but Lord 
Norrington waved that objection away. If not for them, Id not be here. They stay. 
The expeditions leaders worried over charts showing the coast of Okrannel. Mirvostok 
was located on the eastern shore roughly thirty to forty miles from Crozt. The coast road 
running 
up to Crozt and then down around to Svarskya would be the fastest overland 
route to the Okrannel capital. Going directly 
inland would require us to travel over some of the highest 
mountains in 
Okrannel, and we had no passes to speed us on our way. Heading up the coast road 
would present no problem, save that the Dnivep River cut deeply across the base of the 
Crozt peninsula, all but severing it. The Radooya Bridge spanned the river gorge on the 
coast road, and a company could hold that bridge against an army. 
But sailing out and around Crozt to get to Svarskya likewise 
presented a problem. 
The locals told us the sea only acted the way it was when Tagothcha was awake, and it 
didnt take much imagination to figure out that Chytrines forces had awakened the seas 
weirun. They assumed shed bribed it with fabulous gifts, inspiring it to work against us. 
While the harbors 
weirun was able to keep us safe and the water calm thanks to gifts

the locals madeTagothchas anger meant we were bottled up here until such time as he 
got bored and let us go-To make matters worse, refugees from Crozt had already passed 
down the coast road and gathered in Mirvostok. The stories they told were not pretty, 
nor were they likely exaggerated. 
Chances seemed excellent that part of the force that 
had been landed at Crozt would be headed down to Mirvostok. The towns landward 
defenses werent bad, but they were not up to holding off a determined Aurolani horde. 
Taking the town wasnt necessary, they just had to keep us here defending it. That 
would give Chytrines troops plenty of time to lay siege to Svarskya. 
Prince Scrainwood stabbed a finger at the bridge on the map. I propose we send 
troops forward to defend the bridge. A small number of us can hold the bridge against 
the forces chasing refugees. Prince Augustuss cavalry and the Oriosan Guards should do 
the trick. This will free the rest of you to swing around and relieve Svarskya. 
Prince Augustus smiled. We can do it, Im certain. It will take us no time at all to 
reach the bridge. 
The grim smiles and nods of the others gathered in the room seemed to show 
approval for the plan, but Lord Nor-rington still stared at the map. He pressed his left 
hand over his mouth and let his right hand ride the dagger hilt at his right hip. I 
wondered what he was looking for, and suddenly I thought I saw it. 
Of course. I smiled, then raised my hands to apologize for my whispered comment. 
Forgive me. 
No, no, Hawkins, no apology needed. Lord Norrington pointed his left hand at the 
map. Tell me what you see. 
I squeezed my way through the ranks to the table. A couple of things. The fleet that 
met us probably came down from Crozt, which meant they were sailing for a good eight 
hours before the battle was joined. That would mean that spies on Wruona probably 
used arcanslata to inform the Aurolani 
we were coming. Attacking us where they did, 
and using the Crescent Sea against us, they pretty much made Mirvostok the only harbor 
we could hide in. Given that the fleet had at least eight hours of warning, we have to 
assume land troops did as well. Chances are theyve already reached the Radooya Bridge 
and may even be on this side of it. 
Lord Norrington looked up at Prince Scrainwood. I think Hawkins has the right of it. 
If I let you two go, you could well run into a large force already on the road. 
Scrainwood curled a lip in my direction, then nodded to Lord Norrington. I realize 
the potential risk, but have we another course? Sarcasm dripped through his words as 
he asked, Perhaps you have another plan, Hawkins? 
I shouldnt have risen to the bait, but I did. Well, if we were able to land a force 
north of the bridge and hold it or destroy it, that would cut off the force thats moving 
against us now. That would lessen the troops well face at Crozt or Svarskya. 
Scrainwood traced his finger along the coast near the bridge. Its all impassable; says 
so here on the map. Nearest you could land would be twenty miles north of the bridge. 
Begging your pardon, Highness, thats not zactly so. A grizzled old native fisherman 
scratched at his throat. This map here, its by royal warrant. Smugglers here about, so 
Im told, know of places where a ship can land to the north. The cliffs there is fierce, but 
birds nest on em and sheep get stuck on them, so theyre not impossible to climb. Or so 
smugglers brag. 
Prince Augustus laughed lightly while Scrainwood reddened. 
Well, Hawkins, it 
seems your plan has merit. Problem is that shipping a force to your cliffs is impossible, 
given the state of the sea. Or do you have a solution to that? 
I shrugged uneasily. How is it that Tagothcha knows which ships have offered him 
something for safe passage? 
The fisherman smiled, revealing a half-dozen yellowed teeth scattered in his jaws.

We offer wine. Tagothcha isnt terrible particular for vintage and isnt hard to trick. 
Vinegar serves some times, in bad years. We let it pour down the sides of the ship. He 
knows by feel which ships have been touched. 
Doesnt matter who crews them? 
Its the ships not the men, near as I can figure. 
I clapped my hands. Perfect. Heslin was trying to explain arcanslata to me, and he 
said there was a magick Law of Contagion
things that touched other things bore some 
of their essence. I know we have some small ships that we can use to send a force north 
to destroy the bridge. The rest of our ships, though, ought to get through if we trick 
Tagothcha. If we take apart some of the captured boats and nail some of the planking 
to our hulls, that contagion thing should make all our ships seem right for passage. 
Lord Norringtons eyes narrowed as he regarded me. Do you mean to suggest you 
understand that much about magick, Hawkins? 
No, my lord. Youll be wanting to check with Heslin on all this. 
Then how ... ? 
I blushed. Its just camouflage, my lord. If we look like an Aurolani fleet, well be 
safe. By the time the mistake is spotted, well be in Svarskya, or better yet, Chytrine will 
be angry enough to stop sacrificing to Tagothcha, giving us a chance to win him over. 
Ah, I see it clearly now. Thank you. 
Prince Augustus frowned. The key problem I see with this plan is that if we succeed, 
well leave an Aurolani army trapped here in the south, bound for Mirvostok. 
I agree, which means well have to evacuate the town. Well organize that effort while 
our force heads north. Lord Norrington nodded, then pointed to Prince Augustus. You 
wont be able to take horses, but I would have you lead the taskforce going north. Prince 
Scrainwood will be your second. I suggest you pick people who climb well. 
I will. Id also like people who see clearly. The prince nodded to me. If I might, 
Lord Norrington, I would take your aide, your son, and even Master Carver with me. 
Scrainwood frowned. Theyre mere boys, Augustus. 
As mere boys they were at Arval, Scrainwood. As men they slew a sullanciri. Dont 
question why I want them with us, question why I would not. 
Lord Norrington looked at Nay and me, then nodded. If you were yet boys, Id keep 
you here; but none of us are safe on this expedition. Go with the blessings of Kedyn. is 
the sun died the next day, we made our mbve. Two of the 11 small boats wed captured 
from the enemy fleet hauled an-I Ichor and spread sail. Rain still lashed us, and lightning 
still flashed. Ballistae on the other ships shot flaming balls of pitch high through the sky, 
but our little ships evaded them. Cries went up about the escape of prisoners, but we 
quickly left the chase ships behind and slipped around the headland into the Crescent 
Sea. 
As we came into the open ocean, the waves increased, pounding the headland 
mercilessly. One of the galleys pursuing 
us came into view and the waves battered it. 
The ship turned about, barely avoiding being grounded on the far side of the harbors 
mouth. 
For us it was clear sailing, though all of us felt miserable. The rain still soaked us, and 
our new cloaks did not help much. Wed spend most of the day dressing out dead 
gibberers and pulling their flesh on over our leather armor. Heslin couldnt be certain if 
disguising ourselves as gibberers would help deceive Tagothcha, but he knew it wouldnt 
hurt. Fortunately 
for us, the lack of sun and general coolness meant the skins had not 
begun to stink too badly. 
On each boat we had thirty-six individuals. Twelve of us rowed at any one time. All 
the crew were volunteers and representative 
of all parts of the force. Princes Augustus 
and Scrainwood led, but each ship had a dozen Loquelves in addition 
to men. Our ship

also had Seethe and the urZrethi, Faryaah-Tse Kimp, aboard. 
The inclusion of the urZrethi surprised me. I know it was because of her sizeit 
seemed to me that someone so childlike 
couldnt possibly scale a three-hundred-foot 
cliff, much less scale one that was supposed to be impassable. Doing it while carrying 
over a hundred yard of line looped over her body just didnt seem possible. 
Once, standing in the bow of the ship I smiled at my sulfur-
colored companion. Are 
you sure you can make the climb? 
I am from Tsagul. I have spent my whole life in the mountains. 
I know, but I thought the urZrethi spent their time in the mountains, not climbing 
around on the outside of them. 
Even the interiors can require climbing skill, Hawkins. She brushed her left hand 
against the bow wale, then tapped a finger on a board that had warped up away from 
the one beneath it. This is why I will climb first. 
She stiffened the fingers of her left hand. More quickly than slow, her fingers and 
thumb merged. The whole hand assumed a sharp wedge shape, which she shoved into 
the gap. I heard a cracking sound, and a piece of the board splintered and came up. She 
pulled it away with her right hand. The tip of her left hand had expanded into a block, 
which had broken the wood. As she pulled her hand free, the wedge flexed. In a 
heartbeat she waggled her fingers at me. 
My jaw worked, but I had nothing to say. 
Faryaah-Tse grinned broadly. UrZrethi have a certain flexibility to our form. We find 
it ... useful. 
I can see that. I shrugged uneasily. And you wear no weapons or armor because . . 
. 
In an eyeblink her left hand lengthened and tightened into a stout shortsword blade. 
Why chance losing something you dont need? I cannot shoot bits of myself as arrows, 
but most of my fighting is done well inside an archers range. 
But doesnt it hurt when you get hit? 
Faryaah-Tse shrugged as her hand returned to normal. Does it ever not hurt? 
Good point. 
Our trip north took just under three hours. We located the tiny smugglers cove and 
beached our ships. We made them fast with lines to the rocks, since the tide was running 
low and theyd be afloat by the time we returned. We armed ourselves. I went with only 
a sword and gibberer longknife. Archery we were leaving to the Loquelves. 
Faryaah-Tse scrambled up the cliff as easily as I might scuttle 
across the beach on 
hands and feet. I couldnt see her much past a hundred feet up, but in no time at all her 
coil of rope unwound down the cliff. Nay went up next, carrying two more coils, then a 
couple of Alcidese warriors from the west made the climb. Once all five lines had been 
secured at the top of the cliff, the rest of us began our ascent. Those who could climb 
did and those who could notlike Heslinwould be hauled up last. 
Three hundred feet doesnt sound like much, but when the rocks are rain-slicked, your 
fingers are cold, and everything youre wearing is water-logged, the distance seems likely 
never to end. My feet slipped a couple of times, raking my legs against the rocks. I might 
have fallen once, but an outcropping caught my belt and held me long enough to find 
my footholds again. By the time I neared the top, my shoulders and back burned and my 
legs quivered. 
Nay grabbed the scruff of my gibberskin neck and hauled me onto the flat at the top 
of the cliff. Ahead, I saw the outlines 
of a couple of the Loquelves crouched on a hill 
that would take us to the main plateau. The coast road, if the charts had been at all 
right, would be two dozen yards past the crest of the hill. 
Beyond them, limned in the weak grey light the moon projected through occasional

breaks in the clouds, I saw the Radooya Bridge. The stone span arched regally over the 
Dnivep River. Four stone pillars rose from the rivers mist to support the bridge. Little 
obelisks added spikes to the bridges curve, and fires guttered at their peaks. 
The sheer size of the bridge did not register until I realized I still had a miles worth of 
march to reach it. The bridge had to be five hundred yards long. The only consolation I 
got was the confirmation that the obelisks were too small to house any sort of a 
garrison. 
By midnight wed all gathered at the top of the cliff. The Loquelves went forward, 
moving through the forest on the north side of the gorge while the rest of us shambled 
down the road. We all assumed the gibberers and vylaens left to hold the bridge would 
have good night vision, but just how much detail they could pick out we couldnt guess. 
We hoped wed look like a relief unit, so Faryaah-Tse, wearing the skin of a vylaen, 
marched in front of us. 
Seethe returned from scouting with the Loquelves and found us before we made the 
final turn in the road to the bridge. Twenty gibberers at this end and an estimate of the 
same at the far end. The bridges arc prevents us from seeing them, though two vylaens 
are stationed in the middle to watch both ends. 
Prince Augustus nodded at her report. Can the archers kill the vylaens? 
Scrainwood snorted. Two hundred fifty yards or more for a shot? At night, in the 
rain? Very difficult. 
Leigh shook his head violently enough for his gibberer-flesh hood to fall back. 
Doesnt matter. Have them shoot the near garrison. Well be on them and through and 
get the vylaens. 
Workable plan. Prince Augustus dispatched Seethe back to the Loquelves with their 
assignments. Leigh grabbed Nay and me and hauled us to one side. 
Listen, stay with me. Speeds the key here. He smiled and rested his hand on 
Temmers hilt. First, fast, victorious. 
At Prince Augustus order we moved out, marching quickly along the road. As we 
came within sight of the bridge, I noticed 
two things. The first was that the garrison of 
gibberers was mostly lying down on the bridge, sleeping. A handful of them paced at the 
foot or leaned against the obelisks at the near end. The guttering flames highlighted the 
wetness of their fur, while the pitter-pat of raindrops on our disguises drowned out 
anything they might have been grumbling. 
We closed to thirty yards before the sentries seemed to take any notice of us. Two 
started toward us, walking casually, and one raised a hand. He howled something, not 
loudly, but clearly expected a response. 
Before we could have answered him, and before Prince Augustus gave any order, 
Leigh drew Temmer and started to sprint at the bridge. Each footfall splashed muddy 
water from the roads wagon-wheel ruts. There was a madness in his dash that infected 
me, for I ran a step behind him. I held my sword aloft the same as he did, and I heard 
Nay bellowing behind me. Raindrops danced hard on the roadway and bridge and all 
sound save the hoarse thunder of my own breath seemed dulled. 
Ahead, gibberers stirred and threw back sodden blankets. Then their movements 
became jerky as arrows fell among them. One gibberer, with both hands clutching the 
arrow in his throat, splashed facedown in a puddle. Other figures spun, smacking into 
the bridges posts or walls before they fell. Two seeking to rise crashed back to the 
bridges cobbled surface and yet another curled up around the arrow in his belly. 
I remember with crystal clarity the shocked look on the face of one slow riser. An 
arrow hit inches in front of his muzzle. The arrow bounced straight back up in the air, 
much as the gibberer sat bolt upright in surprise. 
And that astonished look remained on his face as Leighs blade swept through his

neck. The gibberers head began a lazy tumble through the air. Dripping blood merged 
with the black rain, and the body sagged to the ground. 
My two-handed swordcut caught a gibberer over his right hip. I opened him up 
cleanly and spun him away. He flew into the bridges wall, then landed hard on his cut 
flank. I saw him struggle to rise, but his feet found no purchase on wet stone. He 
convulsed once, then flopped forward onto his face. 
In an eyeblink we were through the gibberer line and racing 
toward the vylaens in 
the center of the bridge. One faced away from us and raised a hand. A gout of green 
flame shot up from his palm. He waved his arm in our direction and I assumed he was 
summoning help from the bridges far end. The other one moved toward us and set 
himself, undaunted by the taunts Leigh shrieked. 
That this creature was waiting for us made no sense. I couldnt figure out why it 
wasnt doing anything as we closed. I thought for a second that perhaps our disguises 
had confused 
it, but then I saw a glint in its dark eyes and I knew why it waited. 
We werent yet in range. 
Leigh ran a step or two in front of me and I knew he had to be the vylaens target. 
The gold glow from Temmer, the shrieking, all of it made Leigh the greatest threat. And, 
as powerful as Leighs sword might be, could it save him from a spell? 
He was running into a trap and didnt know it. I put my head down and picked up my 
speed. Leigh had never before beaten me in a footrace. Magick sword and a head start or 
no, if I let him beat me now, Id be killing him. 
It didnt occur to me until Id shoved him aside and seen the spark blossom in the 
vylaens right palm that by removing him as a target, Id pretty much transferred that 
honor to myself. Leigh started to go down. I twisted to the right and leaped to avoid his 
sword, but the hilt still caught me in the ankle, spinning me more and exposing my back 
to the vylaen. 
I caught a quick glimpse of those running behind me. Nay was leaping over Leighs 
fallen form. Back a half-dozen paces came Faryaah-Tse, Prince Augustus, and a knot of 
Alcidese warriors. Then a wall of heat hit me and green flames eclipsed my view. The 
thick scent of burning fur choked me. I landed heavily on my back, flinging my heels up 
over my head. I somersaulted over and landed in a kneeling position. 
I heard a meaty wet thwack from behind me and came up on one knee as I turned 
toward the sound. A vylaen with a serious concavity on the right side of his chestso 
serious it looked as if his shoulder started where ribs normally end bounced off the 
cobbles. On my right Faryaah-Tse flashed past to shove a handblade through the chest 
of the other vylaen. 
All about me hung tattered, charred and smoking bits of gibberer flesh. I felt a 
stinging burn radiate out from between my shoulders, which was where I guessed the 
spell had hit me. The disguise, though far from fooling the vylaen, had burned off the 
virulence in the spell, leaving me alive and relatively unscathed. 
Leigh lunged to his feet with an insane fire in his eyes. He started in my direction, his 
blade coming back for a stroke, then the howls of charging gibberers snapped his head 
to the left. He answered them in kind and started running toward the enemy. 
The rest of us ran after him. We knew he wasnt invulnerable, 
but he didnt seem to 
have a clue about that. Leighs charge, had he been mounted on a warhorse and at the 
head of a heavy cavalry unit, might well have carried him clean through the score of 
gibberers coming at us. On foot, however, 
armed with only a sword and as small as he 
was, he might as well have hurled himself against a wall. 
The charging gibberers, on the other hand, seemed impressed 
with the little golden 
tongues of flame playing over Temmers edges. Theyd also seen two vylaens die and me 
engulfed in flame, yet keep on coming. As Leigh screamed at them and whirled his blade

in a circle above his head, they slowed, then some at the edges turned. The gibberer line 
collapsed. 
Leigh sailed into them, Temmer describing golden disks that sliced through arms and 
legs, spines and heads. His first victim still twitched on the ground before I reached the 
pack. With a quick slash I hamstrung one, then brought my blade up and around in a 
two-handed cut that split another from shoulder to the small of its back. 
Our charge carried us through their pack and we turned to face them. The gibberers 
at the edge sidled away, but Augustus and his men fell on them. Nays maul pulped 
skulls. Faryaah-Tse clawed her hands and raked them through bellies and throats. Warm 
blood chased away the rains chill as I slashed a gibberers throat. 
Throughout the slaughter, Leighs battle cries rose above the whimpers and groans of 
the dying. I shivered to hear him, though not because my friend sounded insane. What 
made me shiver was that some part of me shared that madness. We stood there with 
rainwater washing blood over our feet and I was happy, I was proud. 
I felt as if all I was ever meant for was killing. 
I shivered again, then began the long trudge back to the bridges north side. As we 
came over the crest, a crouched man rose from beside one of the gibberer bodies and 
walked toward us. I could tell it was Scrainwood from the way his long locks hung limp 
in the rain. His right hand ended in a poniard and his sword remained in its scabbard. In 
his left hand he held a gibberer scalp. 
Scrainwood brandished the dagger. Theyre all dead. Ive made certain of that. 
Augustus pointed back toward the bridges far side. The garrison there is dead, too, 
or soon will be. 
The Prince of Oriosa twirled his blade between his fingers. Ill make sure. 
I held up a hand. Theyre dead. 
Scrainwood went to say something to me, but Heslin cut him off. Theres no time to 
be about silliness. Get over here. We need to get this bridge down now. 
As we left the bridge, Seethe and the elven archers joined us. Aside from a couple of 
men who had taken some fairly superficial cutsin one case a warrior had gashed his 
own leg when he missed with an ax strokewed come away unhurt. The battles result 
was nothing short of miraculous, and had to be attributed to planning, surprise, and 
Leighs magickal sword. 
The magicker dropped on one knee and pressed his good hand to the bridges base. 
This first spell will loosen the mortar. You can remove the paving stones, then we get 
down to the supports. If theyre wood, we can burn them. Otherwise Ill have to use 
some other magicks. 
A white-blue glow brightened beneath his palm, then little sparks shot out like bugs, 
racing along the lines of mortar. They jigged and jagged, left and right, curving around 
some stones, angling between others. Had the bridge been ice and they cracks, the 
structure would have fallen apart in a heart-beat. As it was, the sparks played out maybe 
six feet from where Heslin touched the bridge. 
The mage sat back and shook the gibberer-flesh hood free of his head. That is odd. 
Prince Augustus frowned. Whats the matter? 
That spell should have shattered the mortar, and it should have extended all the way 
across it. 
Why didnt it? 
Heslin shrugged, then stood. I think the bridge is alive. 
Scrainwoods jaw dropped open. What insanity is this? How can a bridge be alive? 
The magicker turned and coldly regarded the prince. It has a weirun. 
Not possible. Its man-made. Scrainwood waved the suggestion 
away with both 
hands. Destroy the bridge and be quick about it.

Heslins voice took on an edge. I am a man. My magicks work well on inanimate 
objects. Were I older, more learned, I might be able to destroy it with a spell. 
Older? Scrainwood turned to the elves. What about you, have you magick talent? 
Youre all older. 
The Loquelves looked at Scrainwood with expressions running 
from mild amusement 
to cold contempt. Seethe just shook her head. 
Faryaah-Tse Kimp pointed a yellow finger at the bridge. Look. 
It took me a moment to see it and, at first, I mistook it for a little wave of water 
washing down the stones and distorting them. Then I realized that the distortion came 
from the stones themselves. Something was moving toward us as if it had burrowed 
beneath the stones flesh. When it neared our end of the bridge, it slowed and gently 
prodded the gibberers bodies. It sank back into the stone for a moment, then 
reappeared. 
As the bump grew, it took on a vaguely humanoid form. It had a headsort of a 
misshapen lump that sat directly on broad shoulders. The arms had a sweeping curve 
that roughly mirrored the bridges arc. A perfectly shaped keystone about the size of my 
fist lay centered in its chest. The shoulders tapered down into a narrow waist, then 
broadened back out into powerful thighs and legs with broad stable feet. 
The bridges weirun appeared to be made exactly like the bridge, with all the stones 
composing it fitted together and then joined with mortar. Natural depressions in the face 
served as eye sockets, but only shadows resided there. The spirit shifted its shoulders to 
look at us, then reached down with a hand to prod one of the dead gibberers. 
Why do they not wake up? Its voice grated harshly, while resembling the whine of 
the wind through the pillars and obelisks. Despite the inhuman nature of its voice, the 
question came with a childlike innocence. Why do they leak? 
Heslin canted his head toward the weirun. You see, Prince Scrainwood, the bridge is 
alive. 
Scrainwood said nothing, but Augustus frowned. How can this be, Heslin? This 
bridge, its all of five hundred years old. How can it have a weirunV The mage shrugged. 
Perhaps the ghosts of men who died building it imbued the bridge with their essence. 
Perhaps the bridge is so important that the very fact of its existence demanded 
a spirit 
inhabit it. I dont know. 
The urZrethi bowed her head to the weirun. Forgive the rudeness. They will not 
wake because they are dead. They leak because we have killed them. 
The weirun slammed its hands together, striking sparks. All of us save the urZrethi 
leaped back, and Scrainwood a bit more than most. They guarded me. Why kill them? 
Faryaah-Tse gentled her voice. They were not guarding you; they made you into a 
trap. 
No, no, not a trap. The weirun stamped a foot. They guaranteed safe passage. 
For their kind. 
They guaranteed safe passage! 
Scrainwood snorted. Its an imbecile and its working for Chytrine. 
Seethe narrowed her golden eyes at Scrainwood. If it is an imbecile, as you suggest, 
can it be responsible for its conduct? 
Immaterial and irrelevant, Seethe. The prince sneered at her. We need the bridge 
down, alive or not. Its mentally unsound. It is a retard. He flicked a hand at Leigh. You 
have a magick sword. Kill it. That will destroy the bridge, wont it? 
I reached out to stay Leighs hand, but he made no move to draw Temmer. 
No! Nay stepped between Leigh and the weirun and stabbed his spike into the earth, 
almost pinning one of Scrainwoods feet to the ground. Dont matter if its dull or not. 
No killing.

But we need the bridge down. 
Nay growled and poked Scrainwood in the nose with his index finger. My way or not 
at all. 
Heslin nodded. Please, Master Carver. 
With his hands open, Nay walked over to the weirun. The killing had to be done. You 
remember, before they came, there were others. 
I remember. 
Nay kept his voice soft, using the same tones I had heard my parents use when 
speaking to a child. While the weirun might have been born with the bridge, it was but a 
child as far as spirits, gods, and godlings were concerned. 
Nay smiled tentatively. And you remember they were scared, very scared. 
The weirun drew a stony hand across his cheek. Their eyes rained on me. 
Because they were afraid, very afraid. They were being chased. Nay spoke slowly, as 
if telling a story to a child. Hed clearly figured out that this weirun was childlike, not 
slow, the way Scrainwood described him. It is slow, but only slow in the way a river cuts 
a gorge. Nays dealing with this weirun the only way possible. 
Nay sat down, crossing his legs in front of himself, and the weirun likewise sat. The 
friends of these dead ones were chasing 
the frightened people. They are gone from 
here. For now. But they will return. Up the road are more who are scared. When the bad 
ones return, the scared people will run, or will leak and be dead. 
Leak and be dead. The weirun reached out and stroked one of the gibberer corpses 
as if it were a dead kitten. Dead is bad. 
You always help people. You are strong for them. You carry them across the river. 
You protect them. Nay smiled. You protect them very well. 
The weirun nodded slowly. I protect them. 
But now, the bad ones will be returning. They will use your strength to hurt the 
others. You will help the bad ones. You will help them make others leak and be dead. A 
tremble entered Nays voice. More people will die because you help the bad ones. 
Dead is bad. 
Dead is very bad. A distant rumble of thunder underscored 
Nays words. If you 
want, you can help us stop the bad ones. 
Yes, help. 
The cost will be great. It will be everything. But, it will be less than the pain of 
knowing that you hurt others. Do you understand? 
The weiruns head flowed around in a circle to survey the bridge. If I am here, others 
will be dead. 
Yes. 
If I am not here, I will be dead. 
Nays lower lip quivered and he nodded wordlessly. You will live in our memories for 
this bold act. 
It is not enough. 
What? 
I was bad. I will be no more. No more pain from me, but I know pain. The weirun 
extended a hand and touched Nay over his heart. You will help me. Help me atone for 
the pain. 
I will. 
You will promise me. 
Nays reply came in a hoarse whisper. I promise. 
The weirun flowed back to his feet and pulled Nay to his with one hand. The spirits 
hand then touched his own chest and pulled free the keystone there. It glowed and 
sparkled with internal fire, in an instant transformed from lifeless stone to an opalescent

gem. The weirun reached out and pressed the stone into Nays hands, then gave him a 
little shove that propelled 
him back off the bridge. 
Bit by bit, stone by stone, the weirun began to crumble. Behind it, starting at the 
highest point of the arch, the bridge came apart. Obelisks teetered and toppled, 
streaking fire as they fell. Whole chunks of the roadbed sank from sight. The crackling 
thunder of mortar parting and stones splitting filled the air. Faster and faster the collapse 
came, gobbling up pieces of the roadway. Stones cascaded down into the dark valley 
below, bouncing and spinning off each other. 
Finally the last of it went, taking with it the bodies of the gibberers and the gravel 
traces that had been the weirun. Even the massive stone footings ripped free of the 
earth, splashing mud and bits of sod over us. As they tumbled into the gorge, they 
rebounded from the stone sides and careened into the bridges support pillars. The 
footstones snapped the pillars in half, scattering stones like seed from a farmers hand. 
Scrainwood snorted. Well, at least thats done. 
I stepped past the prince and knelt beside Nay. He clutched the glowing keystone to 
his chest, seemingly oblivious to the puddle in which he lay. /.re you hurt? 
His name, it was, it is Tsamoc. As Nay spoke the name, the light in the stone dulled 
a bit. Nay smiled and nodded, as if he could hear words I could not, then his eyes 
focused on mine. Bit wet, bit hollow. Thats it. 
I took one arm and Leigh took the other. We tugged him to his feet. I gave him a 
weak smile. I understand the hollow bit. Feel hollow myself. 
Prince Augustus came over and laid his right hand on Nays shoulder. Just 
remember, what you did saved a lot of lives. 
What he did saved lives. Nays nostrils flared. When this war is all done, youll get 
credit for winning it. Just remember 
who made the sacrifices to let you win. 
Prince Augustus nodded and began to trudge back to the cove in silence. He wore an 
expression that told me hed taken Nays words to heart. Behind him came Scrainwood, 
and though a mask hid most of his face, his grin and the way he hung on to the 
gibberers scalp told me that even (/hed heard Nays words, he didnt understand them. 
Only later would I realize how painful a failing on his part that would be. 
The return to our ships was much easier than the journey to the bridge, largely 
because sliding down ropes is easier than climbing up slippery cliffs. We didnt say much 
heading back. I found myself shivering and huddled against the bow wales as we set off. 
I knew my shivering wasnt because of the cold or the rain. 
I found it very curious that there was no question in my mind we had done the right 
thing. The Aurolani warriors had to be destroyed. The bridge had to be destroyed. 
Doing what we had done was the only way we could help save the people in Crozt and 
Svarskya. Acting when and how we did saved countless liveslives the Aurolani host 
would gladly have taken. 
Even so, the elation Id felt in the killing, the sense of powerthat was wrong. 
Certainly, every story Id ever heard about heroes had them celebrating their 
triumphsbut that impression came solely from songs and stories created by people 
who probably never knew the hero whose exploits they . . . well, exploited. Heroic 
stories and songs imparted motives 
and feelings to figures who had become more than 
they ever were in life. 
Leigh slumped down against the bulwark next to me sheathed sword held loosely 
between his knees. The touched the top of his head, the tip pressed against a bi uneven 
planking. His hands clung to the crossguard. His i had again taken on its grey pallor. The 
only color rema was little bits of blood that had not yet been washed awa the rain. 
I bet youve already composed a poem about the Batt! Radooya Bridge. 
Did you ever try to find a rhyme for bridge?

No. 
Its even tougher than the battle. He rubbed his r hand over his forehead. Hawkins, 
there, on the bri< you . . . 
Dont mention it. 
No, I have to, I have to. Leighs voice trailed off as i had run out of strength. You 
saved my life. You nearly < for it. 
I shifted my shoulders. It aches a little, but my leal saved me. 
Just listen, Hawkins, please. He took a deep bre When you shoved me down, / 
knew what you had done, part of me didnt. Part of me saw that as an attack. You r me. 
You betrayed me. No, wait, let me finish. And when I up, part of me wanted to make 
you pay. I wanted to pur you. Then the gibberers howled and I saw they were the thr I 
went for them. 
The dark color of his mask contrasted sharply with bright blue of his eyes. Temmer, 
it lets me do things. It ma me faster. It makes me more sure. It makes me into a hei I 
bumped him with my left shoulder. You were a h before that, Leigh. You got help for 
us in Westwood. You fa down a temeryx and saved Nays life. 
I hear what youre saying, but I never felt like a hero my heart. I was willing to run 
to get help because I was afr to stay. And I ran to help Nay because I was afraid w 
people would say if he died there and I didnt help hir Leigh leaned his head back against 
the wooden wales. 
wasnt about me being brave, it was about me being afraid. With Temmer, that goes 
away. Mostly. 
What do you mean mostly? 
Leigh patted Temmer. Dont you remember? Ill be broken 
in my last battle. 
Sure, but that last battle will be when youre old and your great-grandchildren are 
fighting over who gets to sit in your lap for a story. 
Leigh laughed, but perhaps more than he should have. Would that such a thing 
would happen, Hawkins, but it wont. The blade, you see, my good man, it gets into my 
head. It eats away at me. In Atval I saved everyone, but now, now it makes me wonder. 
At Atval I slew ten gibberers, but I wonder if a true hero would slay a dozen or even 
more. Will I eclipse my father or the heroes of the Great Revolt? It pushes me onward, 
makes me more daring. Makes me more reckless. 
I turned toward him. Then throw it away. 
No, cant do that. 
Yes, you can. 
No! His eyes narrowed and he caressed the blades hilt. Without it I would be 
nothing. 
Youd still be my friend. 
Leighs expression eased. Well, that would be something, anyway. But there is a 
more practical matter at stake here, too, Hawkins. If I pitch the sword away now, 
someone else will end up with it. If that person is an ally, he will be destroyed. 
You could give it to Scrainwood, but I dont think hed draw it. 
Oh, very astute and nasty. I like it. Leigh laughed again, this time with more life. If 
one of Chytrines creatures gets it, another of the sullanciri, for example, were all dead. 
There has to be a way to get you out of this trap, Leigh. You didnt know what you 
were doing when you took the sword. 
Maybe I did, Hawkins, maybe I did. He sighed. The only thing of value left in a 
dragon-melted city, where merely trespassing invited death? I knew it was special and 
powerful and probably dangerous, to judge by the guardians set over it. 
But then, if dragons feared its being in someones hands, well, just the thing for me, 
eh?

Just like you dancing with Noldaalways overreaching yourself. 
True. His eyes twinkled for a moment. But Nolda is a memory. How do you think 
Ryhope would look on my arm? 
The note of hope in his voice gave birth to my lie. Only a hero like you could win a 
princess like her. 
Leigh clapped me on the right shoulder and closed his eyes. Lets hope she thinks the 
same. If she does, Hawkins, I promise you this. In all the tales of Leigh Norrington, 
hero, I will make sure it is well known that you, Tarrant Hawkins, were always the best 
friend a man could ever have. 
We met up with the rest of the fleet an hour after dawn. We knew it was dawn 
because the storm had moved south, allowing us to actually see the sun. Part of the 
fleet, hauling refugees, fled south, while the rest sailed up to meet us. A flagman 
communicated to the Invictus details of our victory and Lord Norrington sent back his 
congratulations. 
As good as that should have made us feel, the black stain in the sky rising from where 
Crozt should have been shrank our hearts. Id not seen Crozt before, but from the 
fire-blackened ruins I could tell it had been a marvelous city. Tall towers, now shattered 
or belching smoke and flame, dominated the landscape. 
Some of the arched walkways 
linking them yet remained, 
while others reached toward each other across a gulf they 
could never narrow. White walls had tumbled down at points, and warehouses burned at 
the docks. 
Even under the harsh glare of the noon sun, the city had a taint of night about itand 
seemed to radiate cold. We did not make landfall there, skirting the harbor by a wide 
margin despite its being empty. All I could see on shore were slinking curs and ravens 
looking for carrion. Judging from the size of the flocks and the packs roaming the city, 
the search for food must not have been difficult. 
We sailed into the Svarskya Gulf and headed southwest toward Okrannels capital. As 
dusk fell, we came across debris from what must have been a hideous sea battle. I could 
out bits and pieces of burned hulks amid which floated the bodies of gibberers and men 
alike. Small fish nibbled at them while some larger fishsharks and otherswent at 
them with abandon. A corpse would bob for a moment, then sink from sight. Water 
would froth where it had been, then it would pop back to the surface again. An arm or a 
leg would be gone, or sometimes the head. Or just a big bite out of the middle, leaving 
it to trail intestines behind as if it were the thread needed to sew the wound shut again. 
We did find a couple of survivors clinging to debris. Both men were in wretched 
shape. Their lips were cracked, their skin blistered, and they were half blind. After we 
got some water into them, they told a story of how the Okrans fleet sailed out from 
Svarskya and defeated the ships coming from the sack of Crozt. While an Aurolani army 
had successfully laid siege to the city from the landward side, the harbor remained 
in 
Okrans hands. Both men said the southern and western gates had not yet been 
breached, but they werent certain that would be the case when we reached the city. 
That night, looking southwest, we could see a distant glow. We knew at least part of 
the city was burning, and around midnight we came across a convoy of ships fleeing 
from the city itself. We arranged the transfer of a couple of harbor pilots to our boats, to 
enable us to travel into Svarskyas harbor 
safely. That these men and women were 
willing to go back with us spoke well of the nobility of the Okrans people. 
The pilots were willing to return in no small part due to Prince Kmlls leadership, and 
the bravery of his family. When he had ordered the evacuation, he sent his entire family 
away, save his infant daughter Alexia. As the story went, Prince Kirill said to his Gyrkyme 
companion, Preyknosery, Ill have no daughter of mine die in this city. 
The Gyrkyme was said to reply, My pledge she will not. Still, she is your daughter.

She will remain here, to love this city as you do. She will weep as you do. Someday she 
will return and make it free again. 
The prince accepted this statement and the defenders pledged themselves to buy the 
young princess every moment in the city that they could. Though the outer walls had 
been breached, the inner walls still held, and the defenders were forcing Chytrine to pay 
a fearful price for her aggression. 
We arrived in Svarskya in the wee hours of the morning, just as the sun began to 
peek over the Crozt headland. In the inner reaches of Svarskya we could still see the tall, 
proud towers that marked Okrans architecture. What struck me as special about them 
were the bright colors they were painted, and the way tiles had been inset around 
windows and doors. The ornate carvings I had seen in Yslin had given way to something 
more subtle, and something less likely to weather in the brutal northern winters. Here 
the covered walkways linking buildings made perfect sense and would allow people to 
move about even if a blizzard blanketed them with deep snow. 
The citys defenders greeted us loudly and warmly. We rotated the galleys through 
berthing and off-loaded our troops as quickly as we could. Leigh, Nay, and I rejoined 
Lord Nor-rington and, along with the two princes, Seethe and Faryaah-Tse Kimp, 
wended our way through debris-strewn streets to find Prince Kirill. Garrison forces rested 
in a variety of buildings 
and pointed us further and further into the city. 
As we worked our way from the harbor to the inner city walls, it became apparent to 
me that the debris had been laid out specifically to hamper Aurolani forces when they 
broke through. If the harbor was the hub of a wheel, the streets shot out like spokes 
from it. Cross streets linked the spokes, making the roadway layout something akin to a 
cobweb. The streets had been offset so no spoke ran directly from the inner city gates 
directly out to the outer gates, which meant the sieging force had to use roads that 
paralleled the walls, letting the defenders abuse them mightily before they could reach 
the gates. 
We found Prince Kirill easily enough and I took an instant liking to him. He stood tall 
and smiled broadly. His curly black hair was complemented by his moustache and 
goatee, and his eyes were that deep green color of pine needles. He wore a black surcoat 
over a full suit of mail; a winged horse rampant in white decorated the surcoats breast, 
though blood did color it. That same crest graced every flag flying over the inner citys 
towers. 
He greeted Lord Norrington as if he were a long-lost comrade. 
Welcome to my city, 
Lord Norrington. Your arrival is much anticipated. I regret not holding more of Svarskya 
for you. 
Youve done well to hold what you have. 
Just looking out over the ramparts made it easy to tell Lord Norrington was not lying. 
As much as the inner city was still brightly colored and strong, the outer ring looked as if 
a blight had settled on it. Red-tiled roofs were holed, revealing charred rafters. Towers 
were stained with blood and many had the former inhabitantsor portions of 
themhanging from windows 
or mounted on spikes on balconies or rooftops. Shadows 
seemed deeper down there, and gibberers and vylaens and other things moved through 
alleys and along roadways choked with carcasses of everything from horses and dogs to 
small children. 
Beyond all that flew Aurolani flags. Whereas the civilized world tends toward 
standards that have noble creatures and other uplifting representations on them, the 
northern host chooses other sources of inspiration. I saw a nine-skull banner flying from 
one tower, and a green flag with a red quartered body on it at another. One banner was 
nothing more than red silk that had been slashed by a temeryx; another had been raised 
on a pole decorated with scalps.

Prince Kirill laughed openly. I am flattered that Chytrine saw fit to send two of her 
armies after me. Most of one litters the streets out there. I have a pair of knuckle bones I 
roll to choose between plans, so they never know exactly where I attack. The loss of the 
city is foregone and I would have evacuated 
everyone, but there remains a problem. 
Lord Norrington folded his arms over his chest. And that is? 
Kirill pointed at one of the older towers near the harbor. That tower was home to the 
fragment of the DragonCrown which we had. It is clear this is their target, and we wish 
to deny them the fragment. 
And the problem is? 
Prince Kirill turned around and pointed at a green tower only three blocks from where 
we stood. That tower is home to the Vilwanese consulate. A year ago a number of 
magickers wanted to study the fragment and it was agreed to lend it to them very 
quietly. No one knew the fragment had been shifted there, not even my father. His 
sorcerer agreed to the loan in my fathers name, assuming things arcane should handle 
themselves. My father does not know, even now, and I only know because his advisor 
used an arcanslata to communicate these facts to me. 
Lord Norrington swiped his hand across his mouth. You mean to tell me that the 
Aurolani forces have already taken the building holding the DragonCrown fragment? 
Yes. Enchantments on it have proved too difficult for them to breach, but they will. I 
am planning a foray to the building to take back the piece of the crown. 
Lord Norrington slowly shook his head. Reckless and dangerous. 
Prince Kirill arched an eyebrow. You will help me? 
If we can come up with a plan that will work, yes. Lord Norrington smiled. Given 
that we know more than they do, chances are such a plan exists. Lets map it out and 
then we go. 
The plan which Prince Kirill and Lord Norrington drew up with suitable input from 
Princes Augustus and Scrain-woodtook advantage of what we knew about the tactical 
situation in Okrannel. Prince Kirill reported that the Iron Prince was the only one of 
Chytrines sullandri that had been spotted as part of the invading force. As nearly as Kirill 
knew, Chytrine only had four sullandri in her entire force, so the Iron Princes death had 
to be quite a blow to her plans for conquest. Still, since a sullandri was supposed to 
command each of her armies, and two armies had been sent to take Okrannel, we could 
not discount the possibility that another Dark Lancer would be directing the opposition. 
We did know, however, that even a sullandri would find himself at a disadvantage 
here at Svarskya. 
Because we had destroyed the Radooya Bridge, we knew the portion of the army that 
had gone south would require at least a week to reach Okrannel. We also assumed that if 
Chytrine 
was using Tagothcha to keep our fleet bottled up, the weirun would still be 
reporting that wed not left the Mirvos-tok harbor. Even if the Aurolani troops heading 
south reached Mirvostok and reported we were missingand Chytrine suc-cessfully 
guessed we were at Svarskyaher ability to blun what we were going to do in the next 
day would be limitedt< communicating orders via arcanslata. 
And, if her abilities werent that limited, I really didn want to see what she would do. 
The plan developed so simply and easily that it could b( seen as desperate. It certainly 
was. It began with trumpet; blowing retreats all across the Okrans line. Men began 
disappearing 
from walls and towers, especially to the west, on the line that would take 
the Aurolani troops to the Crown Towei the fastest. Since Aurolani forces undoubtedly 
had seen oui fleet arrive, and since the Okrans forces had evacuated a lot ol folks by fleet 
before, the easiest assumption was that the troops were going to run. 
And since the fleeing troops would never abandon the DragonCrown fragment, it 
became paramount for the Aurolani 
troops to break through and take the tower. The

speed requirement meant that finesse was outtheyd need a full-force assault, which 
would mean stripping the rest of the city of troops so their drive would have serious 
weight of numbers to it. 
Once we gave way to their attack and allowed them into the Crown Tower section of 
town, wed counterattack their flank. Okrans defenders would slow their drive, then our 
taskforces troops would hit from the flanks. As that distracted them, a small force would 
make their way to the Vilwanese consulate and recover the DragonCrown fragment. If 
things went well, wed be back in time for a general retreat and evacuation. By the time 
the Aurolani host knew it had been hoodwinked, wed be away. 
Prince Augustus was left in command of the Crown Tower defense, and he requested 
Scrainwood help him. Lord Norrington 
must have realized that what little in the way of 
fellowship 
Leigh, Nay, and I had with Scrainwood had soured at the bridge, so he 
pulled us into the Thief Company. Seethe, Heslin, Faryaah-Tse Kimp, and a handful of 
elven warriors became thieves as well. We fitted out the rest of the force with an even 
mix of Okrans and taskforce warriors, stalwart men and women all. Twenty-four of us 
would move on the ground and another six, Gyrkyme, would move through the air to 
the tower, but only after wed broken through and secured it. Theyd be able to carry the 
fragment away while we fought our way back to safety. 
The elves wanted nothing to do with the Gyrkyme and almost balked at the mission, 
but they knew how vital success was. Prince Kirill gave them a way to preserve their 
honor by noting that the elves were tasked with getting to the tower, in and back out. 
Their responsibility ended there. The Gyrkyme were merely tasked with getting the 
fragment away, so their job was not in any way involved with what the elves were doing. 
Though the ruse was transparent, it was a sufficient blind to let the elves participate. 
Id never seen a Gyrkyme in person before. Overall they looked to be elven, with 
pointed ears, sharpened facial features and long, wiry bodies. A down covered them all 
over, and they wore little in the way of clothessave light jewelry or daggers strapped 
to arm or thigh. Longer feathers covered their wings, back, head, and neck, with the 
head feathers often forming a crest that rose as a Gyrkyme became excited. The furled 
wings towered above the Gyrkymes heads and easily measured twenty-eight feet from 
tip to tip. Their coloration varied, with some almost completely white, others raven 
black, and Preyk-noserytheir leaderwas colored very like a kestrel, with brown over 
his back, and white on his front and face, save for the distinctive dark coloring around 
the eyes and down by his nose. 
The Gyrkyme only had four fingers and toes. The foot seemed very like a mans, save 
the toes were a bit elongated and might be suitable for grasping. Each toe ended in a 
nasty talon that I imagined could be as devastating as those of a temeryx. Their fingers 
likewise ended in talons, but the Gyrkyme trimmed those on their thumbs and index 
fingers back to where they were nothing but nubs. Those who were archers even 
trimmed the second fingers talon, so they could draw a bow and release it without 
slicing the bowstring in half. 
Preyknosery had big amber eyes and swiveled his head to regard me as I entered 
Prince Kirills quarters with a message from Lord Norrington. The Gyrkyme said nothing, 
but blinked his eyes once, slowly, then turned his head back toward Kirill. The prince 
smiled and looked up at him, then over at me. 
Is it time? 
Soon. 
The prince nodded, then returned his attention to the squirming bundle in his arms. 
Hawkins, youve not met my daughter, have you? 
No, Highness. 
He sat her up on his left hand, supporting her head and back with his right hand.

This is Alexia, my daughter and heir. The infant tugged at a bracelet braided of pale 
hair that encircled the Princes right wrist. Her hair she gets from her mothermay the 
gods keep her soul. Shes a happy child. She is my heart. 
As difficult as it is to judge the final shape of a tree by looking at a seedling, I have 
trouble reading the future in the face of any infant. Comparing Alexia to what I 
remembered of nieces and nephews, I assumed she was half a year old at best. Her hair 
had come in very light, almost white, and she had two Gyrkyme feathers lashed to a 
small braid hanging from her left temple. The child had the most brilliant violet eyes Id 
ever seen before and a big, giggling, gurgling smile. 
I can see why you are proud of her. 
She is all I have. He cradled her again in his arms, letting her little hand tug at his 
goatee. He laughed, then kissed her on the forehead and held her out to Preyknosery. It 
is time I entrust her to you. 
There is time for that later, friend Kirill. His voice surprised 
me because I had 
expected a high and harsh sound from the Gyrkyme, but instead found his voice to be 
deep and resonant. I will board a ship with you and we will sail from here. 
Kirill shook his head. No, my friend, I want you and your wing to leave here the 
instant the attacks begin. Your chances of escape will be highest then. Take Alexia to 
your home. I will come for her there. 
The Gyrkyme took the child in his arms and Kirill reached out to stroke her head. 
Poor child. You were robbed of your mother at birth, and your city when less than a 
year old. Your lifetrek begins at the base of a mighty mountain, but scale it you will. He 
kissed her again, then turned away. 
Go, friend Preyknosery. She is your daughter now. Go while Svarskya is still ours. 
Always remind her it belongs to her. 
The Gyrkyme bobbed his head at the princes back, then swept from the room. Kirill 
did not watch him go, but instead strapped on his sword and picked up his helmet. 
Turning to me, he smiled. Come, friend Hawkins. Chytrine wants my city. The lease 
price has gone up again, and it is time to draw from her a very bloody payment. 
Everyone in Thief Company mounted a horse save for Faryaah-Tse Kimp. She merely 
shifted her legs from normal into the heavy haunches of a temeryx. The change gave her 
a weird sort of hopping gait and allowed her prodigious leaps. Having seen temeryces in 
action, I had no doubt she could move fast, and the sight of her was odd enough that 
she might give an enemy pause before striking. 
From the west we heard the sound of the gates finally giving way. The sharp crack 
was chased by a victorious howl. Buildings broke the sound up, but I had no trouble 
imagining a flood of vylaens and gibberers pouring through the gate. Theyd find 
themselves channeled along a wide boulevard because 
of the debris choking alleys and 
cross streets, but with the Crown Tower in front of them, their concern wouldnt be with 
their flanks. 
Archers on the wall above the south gate rose and loosed shot after shot at the 
nearest troops. Warriors drew the massive 
beam that served to bar the gates and swung 
them open. We poured out at full gallop, swords drawn, with Kirill and Lord Norrington 
in the lead, Leigh on the left flank, and Nay and me on the right with Seethe. 
Faryaah-Tse came up the middle, hopping and bouncing along, and the rest of our 
troops rode in behind the wedge we formed. 
The sheer devastating force of a mounted charge against infantry cannot be 
underestimated. To some, including bards who have gotten no closer to combat than the 
occasional bar-room brawl, a horse and rider seem quite vulnerable to a man on foot. 
After all, a quick dodge to the riders shield side means his swordcut will go awry, then 
the footman can slash at the horse and bring it down. The rider is tumbled and the

footman can fall on him before he recovers. 
The problem is, of course, that dodging a wall of charging horsemen is impossible. 
Moreover, the sheer weight of the charging horse is such that, when it catches a footman 
with even a glancing blow, it can shatter bones. It will, at the very least, knock the 
footman flying^if not kill him outright. And while a downed man becomes an obstacle 
that most horses would rather leap than step on, the broken footman has no way of 
giving chase to the cavalry. If he struggles to his feet at all, he probably will just make 
himself a target for their return charge. 
Leigh and Nay relied on Temmer and maul respectively, but Id armed myself with a 
horsebow and let fly as fast as I could find a target. I sank an arrow into one gibberer a 
heartbeat 
before Lord Norringtons charger clipped the beast with a shoulder. The 
gibberer spun limp-limbed through the air and snapped its back on the corner of a 
building. 
Seethe wielded a heavy-bladed sword with the slightest of curves to itone almost 
identical to the sword Resolute had used. The blade actually broadened two-thirds of the 
way from the hilt, then tapered back down into a sharp point suitable for lunging or 
spearing things. The whole of one edge had been sharpened, as well as a full third of the 
other edge, allowing her to slash both forehand and back. It had a simple crosshilt and a 
slightly curved, hardwood hilt, but otherwise appeared unadorned. 
A tattooed rune on her forearm glowed with an iridescent red that spread to 
encompass her whole right arm. She beat aside the haft of a spear and rotated her wrist, 
flicking the blade with such speed that I couldnt see it. Only the blood tipping her sword 
and a gibberer reeling away with his severed head lolling back gave evidence of what she 
had done. 
A volley of arrows from the wall finished the gibberer force wed ridden through. Our 
hoofbeats thundered through the town as we raced for the Vilwanese tower. We reached 
it and the broken gate in the simple wall surrounding it. I ducked as I rode beneath the 
arch, then shot a vylaen that had been in the process of scaling one of the garden 
trellises which rose against the tower. Others of our force leaped from their saddles, 
laying about with sword, ax, and club. Faryaah-Tse sailed over the garden wall, crushing 
another vylaen beneath her feet, then lashed out and disemboweled a gibberer with a 
single 
stroke of the twin hooked blades that had replaced her right hand. 
A number of vylaen corpses littered the towers little garden, 
and most of them had 
died long before we arrived. One, burnt to a crisp, clung to the trellis and a low balcony. 
Burn marks around the doorway indicated where others had died trying to break into the 
tower. The door itself appeared to be a solid piece of obsidian, with no knob or other 
indication of how one was to open it, though burned and splintered remnants 
of roofing 
beams showed that a ram wouldnt work. 
Heslin mounted the steps to the towers door and passed a hand through the air 
before it. In the wake of his hand I saw what appeared to be strands of a web glowing a 
milky jade green, though the lines wavered and twisted as if I were viewing 
them 
through rippling water. The mage studied the webs shape for a moment, then he 
reached out and touched the door. A purple light pulsed from beneath his palm, then the 
stone door evaporated. 
Heslin led the way. I moved into the tower behind the prince and Lord Norrington. 
The Archmage strode into the tower with a confident ease and strength hed lacked since 
his wounding at Atval. It almost seemed as if he drew power from the building itself, 
which did not surprise me, since I found the place very odd. 
The tower, though round, appeared to have all manner of angles to it. The place 
definitely seemed larger on the interior than it did on the exterior, which I found 
disturbing. Even more so was the fact that, as Heslin led us deeper into it, the features I

sawsuch as stairwells and windows, fireplaces and archesvanished to be replaced by 
things just as utilitarian, but different in locations. 
I pondered that for a moment, then Seethe hissed from my right. This place stinks of 
illusion. Cant you do something about that, Heslin? 
The mage snorted and glanced at her over his shoulder. Destroying the 
enchantments would take more time than does warping them. Besides, the traps here 
will kill more Aurolani when they come to see why we entered the tower. 
Good reason, then, to keep things as they are. 
Im so glad you approve. Heslin smiled at her. Its probably worse for you than 
others since you are so open to magick. 
The Vorquelf shrugged. Its worth the trouble. 
Heslin led us up through a circular stairway that had been cored in one wall. We went 
up past two landings and came out near the top of the tower. The room up there 
occupied the whole level. Windows and a doorway leading to a balcony ringed the tower. 
The floor had been made of blond oak planking, fitted well enough that walking on it 
elicited no creaking. 
Hanging in the air at the center of the room was the DragonCrown fragment. The 
metal holding the single, fist-sized stone appeared to be gold. It looked so smooth I 
wondered 
if it werent still fluid and if, somehow, I couldnt feel the heat from it. The 
stone it encircled shone with the same sort of starlight found in a sapphire, but the stone 
itself was a deep, rich green with hints of gold. In addition to its being breathtakingly 
beautiful, palpable power radiated from it. 
Tables with glassware, odd tools, colorful concoctions, and dried pieces of creatures 
Id never have been able to identify had been arranged around the crown in a circle that 
had only three breaks in it. Heslin held up a hand to restrain us in the doorway, then 
slowly approached the circle of tables. He paused in one opening, then waved his hand 
through the air much as he had before the door below. 
More ethereal webwork made itself visible. Three spheresblue, red, and 
yellowsurrounded the fragment, one inside the other. They slowly spun, the blue to 
the right, red to the left, and yellow down. While it might have been possible to reach 
through the webwork and grasp the fragment, 
the spinning webs would catch the arm. 
I recalled what had happened to the vylaens trying to enter the tower and could only 
imagine the trouble these spells could cause. 
Smart folk, my brethren, but only by half. Heslin reached out and grabbed the blue 
sphere. He stopped its spinning 
easily enough, but the other two globes sped up. A 
nice trap, this. 
Kirill frowned. What do you mean smart by half? 
Well, if they were fully intelligent, they would have taken the fragment with them 
when they fled instead of leaving it here. As it is, this spell would ward it well, for one 
person cannot steal it all by himself. Seethe, if you would not mind . . . 
The elf sheathed her sword and stalked forward. I am not schooled in magicks. I 
merely use those burned into my flesh. 
No matter; you are open to power. He took her right hand in his left and brought it 
to where he held the blue globe. Just grasp it here and keep it still. 
She nodded and curled her hand over the glowing blue strand of light. Heslin released 
his grip and the elf gasped. The blue sphere started to shift and seemed as if it would 
drag her off the ground, but she pulled back and the blue sphere stopped moving. Be 
quick about your task, wizard. 
Heslin smiled and moved to a different part of the table circle. From one of the tables 
he grasped a silver device with twin hooks on each end. He reached through the still blue 
sphere and snagged the red sphere. He quickly attached it to the blue one, stopping its

spinning, but pulling a grunt from Seethe. She redoubled her effort to hold the spheres 
motionless 
and the yellow one spun yet faster. 
Heslin quickly moved around the circle of tables again and laughed aloud. Though the 
yellow sphere somersaulted with enough speed to form a yellow curtain between the 
doorway and the crown fragment, he came at it from one of the poles of the axis around 
which the sphere rotated. He reached through the blue and red spheres, then pushed his 
right hand into the polar opening and grabbed the green stone. He pulled it free, then 
nodded at Seethe. She released her grip, starting the spheres spinning. 
I ducked as the silver implement Heslin had used came whirling toward the doorway. 
Seethe staggered back toward me as Heslin and the prince went out onto the balcony. 
Kirill waved his arms, and inside a minute one of the Gyrkyme landed and slipped the 
piece of the DragonCrown into a pouch strapped to his right thigh. Three other 
Gyrkyme, armed with bows, circled near him. The four of them departed for the inner 
city and the ships that would carry us all away. 
A great cry arose from outside the tower and we all hurried back down the stairs and 
out. A force of gibberers had formed and attacked the gate. A few tried to come up over 
the walls, but on the left Locquelf arrows pitched them back into the street, and on the 
right, Leigh danced along the wall top, Tem-mer blazing with gold fire. He twisted and 
dodged arrows, rocks, and spears, then slashed through arms and faces as gibberers 
sought to climb the walls. 
Faryaah-Tse cleared the wall in one leap again, this time descending on the group 
gathered in the street. I shot above and around Nays form as he stood in the gateway 
and bashed away at the gibberers. He finally spun away, his left thigh opened by a 
longknife slash. Seethe dashed forward, filling the gap he left, then Leigh dropped over 
into the street. Kirill, lodged firmly on his horse, ordered the gate cleared. 
Lord Norrington followed on his horse, checking the surge of gibberers that would 
have closed around Kirill and dragged him from the saddle. Abandoning my bow, I drew 
my sword and rushed forward, attacking the gibberer flank as they turned to go after the 
horsemen. Kirill and Lord Norrington slashed left and right with their blades, splitting 
muzzles and shattering arms raised to ward off blows. Seethe moved into their wake. 
Her blade darted snake-tongue quick, puncturing a belly, opening the inside of a thigh, 
or slipping beneath a buckler to skewer a heart. 
Compared to her delicate swordwork, I was a forester hewing 
at trees with a dull ax. 
I blocked a cut at my head, then shifted my grip and smashed my pommel into the 
gibberers muzzle. As it fell back, I slashed down, cutting it deeply across the chest. I 
cried out as a gibberers longknife stroked me across the left side of my chest, but he cut 
more leather than ; he did flesh. I lashed out with my left fist, catching him in the throat 
with a mailed punch. He staggered back, caught his heels on a dying comrade, and went 
down. One of the Okrans soldiers gutted him with a sword thrust. 
The gibberers broke, and of our company, I saw eight down. Faryaah-Tse was 
helping another to his feet, and Nay came limping back. Prince Kirill had slashes opened 
on his boots and his horse bled from a cut on the right shoulder. Blood stained Lord 
Norringtons left sleeve, and even Seethe dripped from a cut high on her right arm. In 
fact, not a one of us save Leigh seemed to have escaped without injury. 
We turned toward the inner city to retrace our path to the tower and saw a sight that 
sent a chill through us all. A Gyrkyme lay in the roadway, his wings unfurled and back 
arched unnaturally because of the black arrow that transfixed him. A white temeryx 
clawed at the Gyrkymes right thigh with its forepaws and hooked the pouch that 
contained the DragonCrown fragment. The beast tore it free, then began to scamper off 
to the east. 
Kirill spurred his horse forward and galloped down the road. I sprinted after it, as did

Leigh, Faryaah-Tse, and Seethe, each of them making better time than me. As Kirill 
reached the intersection where the Gyrkyme lay, a black shaft flew from the east and 
struck his horse through the forequarter. The horse went down, spilling Kirill onto the 
dead Gyrkyme. The prince tried to get back up, but his foot slipped in blood and he fell 
again. 
Another arrow passed just above him and shattered brick in the building on the other 
side of the street. 
I reached the intersection a second or two after Leigh, Seethe, and the urZrethi. Off to 
the east ran a knot of four temeryces; on one rode a vylaen holding the pouch. 
Faryaah-Tse started after them, but a dark figure, tall and slender, stepped from an 
alleyway a hundred yards down the street. Between him and us lay the temeryx-slashed 
bodies of the other Gyrkyme warriors. 
The figure looked elven, no doubt about itan impression reinforced by the shape of 
the bow he bore. Unlike the Loc-auellvn silverwood bows, however, his appeared to be 
black and flecked with gold. Out behind him billowed a cloak th; seemed to float on a 
breeze I could not feel. More unsettlir than that was the frequency at which wisps of it 
would curl u like flames and then leap free, evaporating into nothingness His hair 
matched the midnight hues of his cloak an clothes, while his eyes glowed with the same 
purple light th; had lit the Iron Princes gaze. There was no denying that ar other 
sullanciri had indeed been part of the Aurolani hos And this one, being able to fight at 
range, could kill us a before Leigh could get close with his magick sword. 
The Dark Lancer nocked another arrow and let fly. I sa the black shaft coming 
straight for me and I could do nothin to evade it. I watched it grow larger and larger, 
knowing would split my breastbone and burst my heart. I wantedt shift my body, pull 
one of my shoulders back in the hopes the it might miss me, but I knew with uncanny 
certainty that th arrow would not miss its target. 
Then the arrow twisted in flight, turned the street cornei and flew on down toward the 
Vilwanese tower. Heslins hea> came up as the black shaft veered toward him. The 
arrow too the wizard high in the chest, just to the right of center, an< spun him to the 
ground. 
Leigh, go! At him! 
Leigh looked up as I yelled, then glanced at his sword am turned down the street. He 
began to run down the right sid and Faryaah-Tse started her sprint down the left. I dove 
fo one of the Gyrkyme bodies and snatched up one of thei bows. That it was longer than 
my horsebow and had a heavie draw didnt matter to me. I nocked an arrow, drew it as 
fa back as I could, and let fly. 
My arrow, a golden wood shaft with bright red fletching tore through the Dark 
Lancers cloak. I could have sworn i also passed through his flank, but the figure gave no 
indicatioi of any injury. I snarled in frustration, realizing it would take ; magickal weapon 
to hurt him. I dipped my next arrow  Gyrkyme blood, hoping that might enchant it, but 
that sho passed through him without drawing so much as a glance ir my direction. 
The sullanciri drew and shot at Farvaah-Tse Shp lpanpH nr to evade the shot. The 
arrow jerked in flight, shifting sharply. It pierced her left thigh, then shot through to the 
right. She spun in the air and flopped onto her back, screaming in pain. 
Leigh had halved the distance to the Dark Lancer. Gold flames whirled around 
Temmer as if the sword were a torch in a windstorm. Leigh shouted at the sullanciri in 
words I did not understand and kept driving at him, not shifting or dodging or evading. 
The Dark Lancer loosed an arrow at Leigh and somehow it missed. I didnt know how 
or why it missed him, when the shots so clearly were magicked to hit their target. 
Faryaah-Tses leap couldnt have been anticipated, yet the arrow was drawn to her. And 
the shot that missed Kirill missed because he slipped, something he did not anticipate.

All of a sudden I realized 
the arrows somehow knew the mind of the target. 
Regardless of that, Leighs charge had brought him so close that no enchantment 
would be needed to hit him. The Dark Lancer drew his arrow, laying his hand beside his 
cheek, and waited for Leigh to close even further. None of us could hurt him or kill him, 
and that meant he was free to kill Leigh at his leisure. 
I refused to let Leigh die. I dont know where the idea came from, but as I nocked 
and drew a third arrow, I knew exactly what I had to do. I aimed, breathed a quick 
prayer to Kedyn, then let fly. As my arrow sped to its target, the Dark Lancer loosed his 
shaft. 
My arrow struck the broad face of the sullanciris bow up by the elfs ear. The impact 
tipped the bow up a bit. Not much, but just enough to launch the dark lancers shot 
high, so it passed above the level of Leighs left shoulder. The arrow did slash at his left 
cheek and split his earlobe, but Leigh never seemed to notice. 
Temmer arced. An unearthly scream split the air as the fiery blade swept through the 
sullanciris middle. Golden fire burst up into the Dark Lancers eyes, then poured out like 
molten tears. He snorted gold flames, then bent forward to vomit more of the same. The 
figure then fell toward the ground, smacking his face against the cobbles. A gold pillar of 
fire shot into the sky, then collapsed into a greasy black a umn of smoke. 
Of the Dark Lancer itself there was no trace, though 1 bow lay on the ground. Leigh 
dropped to one knee beside and held himself up on his sword. Nay ran to Faryaah-Tse ai 
Seethe ran to help Leigh. Lord Norrington pulled Kirill in the saddle behind him, and the 
others from our party can running up. 
I stood, looking for Heslin. The mage, where is he? 
One of the Loquelves shook his head. Heslin said he w dying and there was no 
saving him. He said to leave him in tl tower and he would see to it that the Aurolani paid 
dearly take it. 
Lord Norrington pressed his lips together in a grim lin Help with the wounded. Get 
everyone back to the inm city. 
I looked up at him. What about the DragonCrown fraj ment? 
He shook his head. We havent the people or the time 1 mount a search for it. 
Chytrine has lost two sullanciri here i Okrannel. Its not a trade I like because shes got 
the better c the deal, but there is no going back and fixing things nov Besides, its not in 
her hands yet, so we might be able to get back again. 
I heard what he was saying and understood it, but somt where in my heart a sense of 
doom had begun to take hole Faryaah-Tse struggled against pain in Nays arms, Leigh 
leane heavily on Seethe, Heslin and others were dead or dying at th tower, and my ribs 
ached. The grand expedition which ha traveled so far to save Okrannel had failed, and 
even then knew that was a fell omen. 
Dpon our return to the inner city, trumpets blared loudly, signaling a general retreat. 
Our troops filtered back through the city slowly, grudgingly. Though most were 
wounded and all of the archers arrows had been spent, the warriors were jubilant. They 
struggled against the recall the way hounds fight the leash. Each one of them knew he 
had the enemy on the verge of breaking, and only the recall prevented a total victory. 
They managed to transform even our loss into a cause for celebration. I couldnt fault 
them there, for the death of a sullanciri was certainly good for our cause. The 
significance of the DragonCrown fragment was not truly understoodperhaps 
because 
men did not want to comprehend the vast horror 
of its being in the hands of the 
enemy. For now, though, Leigh was a hero, having slain two sullanciri. Soldiers 
marching 
to their boats hailed him and cheered him as he sat on the Invictus forecastle 
getting his face sewn shut. 
Many remarked how stoic he was, not wincing, not reacting 
as the needle Seethe

wielded pierced his flesh and pulled the seams tight. The arrow had slashed along his 
left cheek, slicing through his mask and all but severing his earlobe. 
Seethe had deftly sewn the lobe back on as well, apologizing for the scar. 
Leigh shook his head lethargically. Your magickers have enough to do saving those 
who are truly wounded. My mask will hide the scar well enough. 
Wounded there were, and many of them gravely hurt, so the eleven magickers among 
the Vilwanese crew and the Loc-quellyn ships, as well as Winfellis, the Croquelf who had 
been with us from the start, had much too much work to do. The wounded were divided 
into three groups: those who would die, those who might die, and those, like Leigh, 
Nay, and myself, who had minor wounds. The elven magickers worked on the middle 
group, then sought people from the first group. The rest of us were left to needle, 
thread, and healing poultices. 
The human magickers were put to the task of making poultices or working to make 
the ships ready for the open ocean. As its been explained to me, spells that have an 
effect on living things are difficult to master, so human magickers deal mostly with 
inanimate objects. Elves, because they live much longer, have a greater chance for the 
study of and mastery 
of greater magicks. They were careful to note to those they 
treated that while they might speed the healing process, it would be the body doing the 
healing. Those who had been spelled back to health required a lot of rest and food, to 
keep up the strength their bodies needed to repair the damage. 
Seethe leaned close to Leighs cheek and nipped off the end of the knotted thread. 
That should do you, Master Nor-rington. 
Thanks. 
She next turned to me. Strip yourself out of your armor and let me sew you up. 
I unfastened the ties holding my jerkin closed, slipped my left arm from the sleeve, 
and peeled the jerkin back. I raised my arm so she could get a good look at the cut, 
which had bled not too seriously. She knelt at my left, washed blood away with a damp 
rag, and began to work on me. I looked to my right to avoid watching her, thinking that 
might dull the needle-
pricks and thread-tugs a bit. 
Leigh fingered his torn cheek with trembling fingers. He would have killed me. 
My quick laugh died in a hiss as Seethe jabbed me. Ouch. Leigh, he was a bad shot. 
He needed magick to hit his targets. 
Leighs eyes narrowed as he turned to face me. Anger contorted 
his features. Dont 
do that, Hawkins, dont make fun. I know what you did. I felt your arrow come past me. 
I saw it hit his bow. If not for you, Id be dead. 
If not for you, Leigh, wed all be dead. 
His shoulders slumped forward a bit, then he seemed to half rouse himself with a 
barked laugh. Vathendir Krithron would have killed me and taken Temmer. 
Who? 
The sullanciri, that was his name, Vathendir Krithron. 
How do you know that? 
Leigh closed his eyes and shook his head. I dont know. From Temmer, I guess, just 
like with the Iron Prince. I just know that as I closed with him, I learned about him. It 
was as if with each step I could hear a bard telling the story of his life. Hed started out 
noble, from Harquellyn. He embraced the Vorquelf cause and mounted a peaceful 
expedition to get Chy-trine to cede back Vorquellyn. She negotiated with him, gave him 
hope, showed him wonders and seduced him with offers of power. She found his 
weaknessa hatred for Gyrkyme and she exploited it. He accepted her invitation to 
become a Dark Lancer. 
It was him or me there, the dark against the light. I had to kill him else all would 
have been lost. Leighs eyes focused distantly and I noticed his left hand had fallen to

stroke Tem-mers hilt. The palsy that shook it before had vanished. It was an almost 
thing, my death. I would have been defeated in my final battle. 
Leigh blinked his eyes and looked at me. He gave me a smile, then leaned to the right 
and came up with the Dark Lancers bow in his hand. You lost your bow back there. I 
want you to have this one. 
I held my hands up. You killed him, its yours by right. 
No, Hawkins, we killed him, and this bit of plunder is 2- 
yours. Its enchanted. With it you can kill the next sullanc we see. 
Truth be told, Leigh, Id rather have magick arrows; ar missed my chance to gather 
them in the streets. 
Leigh raised an eyebrow at me. You were a bit bu: there. 
You noticed? 
Yes, and if you need a magick arrow, theres always tr one in Faryaah-Tse. He 
shoved the bow toward me. Take i Use it. 
I took the bow from him, and as I wrapped my left han around the grip, I did feel a 
tingle run over me. I looked pa; Seethe toward the city and picked out a window as a 
targe-From the bow I got a vague sense of the distance to it, and fel an urging to raise 
my left arm to get the proper elevation ti send an arrow through the window. I didnt get 
the informa tion in rods, yards, feet, or inches and fractions thereof; it wa more like the 
sort of hunch Id come to rely on when makinj quick shots. 
The value of such a weapon immediately hit me, but a littlt chill ran through me. If I 
came to rely on its magick, m) innate sense of making a shot might be lost. Still, in as 
desperate 
a situation as we found ourselves, could I abandon sc powerful a tool? Would 
allowing an erosion of my own skills in the name of our greater cause be good or bad? 
I didnt have an answer, but I nodded and accepted the weapon anyway. Thank you, 
Leigh. 
He nodded as if hed only half heard me, then tore the hanging strip of leather from 
the left cheek of his mask. He pulled the mask back on and tied it in place. Im going to 
go get some sleep. 
Good idea. 
He staggered toward the steps down to the main deck and leaned heavily on the 
railing with both hands. He would have slipped and fallen, but Nay caught him and 
steadied him as he mounted the steps himself. I could see the top of his flame-haired 
head as he guided Leigh to the forward companionway, then Nay returned and limped 
his way up the steps. 
He plunked himself down on the ract i using as a seat and extended his left leg. 
Through the rent in his leather trousers I could see the stitching that had been done on 
him. He sighed wearily and scratched up under his mask at the corner of his right eye. 
Faryaah-Tse will heal. 
Thats good to know. 
Nay nodded. Pain from the arrow was fierce. She concentrated 
and shifted a bit. 
They only cut skin to get it out. 
I frowned. Why didnt they just break the arrow, pull one end out, and push the 
other through? 
Couldnt. Dont know what its made of. A fell thing, by the touch of it. 
Leigh and I were just talking about those arrows. Id be interested to have a look at 
it. Might be a match for this bow. I winced as Seethe tugged on the thread to tighten a 
knot. Hows your leg? 
No more serious than your ribs. Nay gave me a wry grin. 
The three of us have been lucky. Just cuts. Heslin is dead. 
Faryaah-Tse is shot through. Prince Kirills shoulder is hurt from his fall. Hes heartsick

with the idea that his daughter might be dead, too. 
No surprise there, but shes alive. The Dark Lancer was hunting the DragonCrown, 
not an infant. 
Seethe glanced up at me. How can you be so certain? I shuddered. If Preyknosery 
had been downed, the sul-lanciri would have traded Alexia for the DragonCrown 
fragment. 
Traded her or her corpse, whichever would have caused Kirill more pain. 
The Vorquelf thought for a moment silently, then nodded. She leaned in and nipped 
off the thread with which shed closed my wound. Her lips brushed my flesh as she did 
so. I felt a thrill run through me as that happened. I reached down with my left hand to 
pat her on the shoulder in thanks, but my hand stroked her dark hair and fair cheek in its 
descent. She looked up and our gazes met, redoubling the thrill. 
Seethe stood slowly, then nodded. There are others I must tend to. 
Thank you, Seethe. I hesitated. If there is anything I can do to repay you . . . 
She laughed lightly. I shall think on that, Master Hawkins, 
and may accept your kind 
offer at another time. 
I nodded, then looked at Nay to see if hed noticed what had passed between Seethe 
and me. I think I was less worried that he had and would tease me about it than that he 
hadnt noticed and I would have no way to double-check my impressions. 
Fortunately, or unfortunately, his eyelids had grown heavy and he swayed on top of 
the cask. I caught him by the shoulder 
and eased him to the deck. He curled himself up 
against the bulwark and began to snore. I almost poked him, for the sound seemed 
grossly out of place as our fleet readied itself for retreat. Then it occurred to me that his 
snores were something natural in a most unnatural setting and, for that reason, I left 
him alone. 
I cast about for something to do, but I just seemed to get in the way, so I sought out 
Lord Norrington to see if I could be of service to him. I found him out on the breakwater 
that separated the harbor from the gulf. Massive stones had been placed together to 
create the breakwater, which stood a good six feet above the calm harbor water level 
and had an expanse of twice that across the top. He was speaking with the three princes, 
and though it might be unkind of me to note it, only Scrainwood had managed to come 
away from the battle without 
need of stitch or bandage. The fifth man with them I 
recognized as one of the harbor pilots wed taken on board as we were coming into 
Svarskya harbor. 
The pilot pointed out into the gulf. Black clouds gathered there, and slowly drifted in 
our direction, with lightning flashing 
within them from top to bottom. Waves crashed 
into the breakwater itself, sending spray to dapple the calmer harbor waters and drench 
us. Tagothcha seems a mite upset at you for fooling him before. 
Lord Norrington nodded. Chytrine doubtlessly knows we tricked the weirun and shes 
making sure we dont get to sail to Fortress Draconis. 
Scrainwood flung his arms wide open. We cant stay here. Even if we gather the ships 
in the harbor, fire arrm* -fireships can rWt-~ 
Augustus, whose head was crowned with white bandages that were reddening in 
some spots, rested a hand on Scrainwoods shoulder. No one is suggesting we remain 
here. Weve got to be going, but the question is one of whether or not we can win the 
weirun over to our side. 
Scrainwood knitted his fingers together and hooked his thumbs in his sword belt. 
Offerings will do it, wont they? What will the weirun demand? 
Kirill frowned. Ive not seen Tagothcha this irritated before, 
at least, not this early in 
the month of Leaffall. 
Seethe appeared at my left shoulder. The weirun have always been subject to 
tantrums.

Lord Norrington looked at her. We were discussing possible 
offerings for Tagothcha. 
Have you an idea? It should be something special. 
Seethe laughed, then turned and spat into the gulf. There, I offer Tagothcha what he 
is worth: nothing. On his back were borne the ships that brought death to Vorquellyn. 
He will have nothing from me but venom. 
A wave hurled itself against the breakwater and gallons of brine splashed over her. 
The waves power staggered her, but I caught her and stopped her from falling into the 
harbor. 
Lord Norrington scratched at his chin. Interesting offer, but one that was 
counterproductive. Other suggestions? 
I stepped toward the gulf side of the breakwater and un-slung the sullanciris bow. 
Again I got a sense of target, one deep within the roiling black waters. I knew if I fitted 
an arrow to the bow and drew it back, I could drive the arrow through the weirun who 
watched us from below. I let my hand slip down from the grip and dipped the bows tip 
in spray from the next wave. 
Here, Tagothcha, I offer you a magickal weapon. With it I probably could not slay 
you, but I could hurt you. Anyone could, but I give it to you to keep you safe. In return, 
I ask you do the same: keep us safe. 
No! cried Scrainwood from behind me. I flung the bow as far out as I could. A wave 
rose to snatch the bow from the air. It sank without a sound or ripple. The sea calmed, 
ever so slightly. 
Smiling, I turned to face the others. That seems to have worked. 
Fury burned in Scrainwoods eyes. That was a waste of a valuable tool. If you did not 
want it, you should have given it to me. 
Oh, I did want it, which is why it made a very suitable sacrifice. 
Youre a fool, Hawkins. That bow might have won us the war. 
If that bow could defeat Chytrine, she never would have placed it in the hands of a 
sullanciri. Seethe wrung water out of her long hair. And a weapon like that does not a 
warrior make. 
Scrainwoods nostrils flared. Meaning? 
Meaning, offered Lord Norrington, Hawkins had good reason to offer the bow up, 
didnt you, Hawkins? 
I think so, my lord. I opened my hands. The magick in it would have made each 
shot more certain, if I chose to rely on the bow. The problem is that I would have 
stopped trusting my judgment. It would have destroyed me, in little bits and pieces. It 
wasnt a thing meant for mortal hands, and now it is no longer in them. 
Kirill smiled slowly. Personal gifts, things that have meaning 
for us, that are hard to 
give up ... these are the things Tagothcha treasures. Selflessly givenwhich we know 
Chy-trines gifts could never be. From his right wrist he tugged the braided bracelet 
woven of his dead wifes hair. He grimaced 
as he pulled it offless because of the pain 
in that shoulder, I think, than the pain of losing the bracelet. 
He lofted it into the sea. There, that is all I have of my wife, save memories and my 
daughter. 
Tagothcha accepted his gift and the sea calmed a bit more. 
Prince Augustus stared hard at the obsidian water, then nodded. Listen to me, 
Tagothcha. You know me, Augustus of Alcida. You have my word that my gift to you 
will be special indeed. I am sending an order, as fast as I am able, for my grooms back 
in Yslin to drive my favorite horse, Cursus, a horse I raised from a foal, into your 
depths. 
Augustus voice trailed off and the seas lessened their pounding on the breakwater. 
He nodded, then begged our pardon and marched off in search of the arcanslata that

would relay his order to Yslin. 
We all looked at Scrainwood. He ran a hand over his mouth and in his narrowed eyes 
I could read all the calculations 
his mind was going through. His gaze flicked from me 
to Seethe, to Prince Kirill, and then Lord Norrington. He closed his eyes for a moment, 
then twisted his gold wedding band from his left hand. 
Here, take this, the symbol of my undying love for my wife and the mother of my 
children. 
The waves accepted his gift and perhaps they did abandon some of their restlessness. 
A wry grin twisted Lord Norringtons features. He dropped to one knee and scooped 
up seawater from a puddle in his cupped hands. He lowered his face into it and bubbles 
sprang up to pop around his ears. He raised his face again, with crystal drops running 
from his chin, and poured the water from his hands back into the ocean from which it 
had come. 
The ripples from the water spread out far and fast, rolling over waves and leaving a 
placid surface in their wake. I gasped to see it and KirilFs jaw dropped open. Seethe kept 
her face expressionless, but Scrainwoods eyes widened enough to account 
for her 
shock and his all at once. 
Kirill grasped Lord Norringtons left forearm. What did you do, my friend? 
I gave it a sacrifice of the thing I hold most dear. Lord Norrington smiled slowly and 
wiped his chin with the back of his left hand. I gave Tagothcha my real name. 
Seethe bowed deeply to Lord Norrington. As one who has made a similar sacrifice 
for a cause I hold above all others, I salute you. As she came up, an edge crept into her 
voice. You know what you have done, dont you? 
He slowly nodded. Does it matter when were faced with the need to get to Fortress 
Draconis? 
Perhaps not. 
I shook my head. Real name? What are you talking about? 
Lord Norrineton lauahed and. walking Dast me. tousled my hair with a playful flick of 
his right hand. What you know of the world, Hawkins, is admirable, but it is not all 
there is to know. You have my trust, as per your wish, and someday you will have this 
secret. When you are ready for it. 
He looked out at the sea. The weirun is ready to receive us. Lets move. 
Te left Svarskya in flames behind us. Dusk fell as we sailed, [and I recall seeing Prince 
Kirill standing there on the aftdeck, limned by the fires. At waters edge gibberers and 
vylaens danced and cavorted, though whether they were joyous 
at their victory or 
outraged at our escape, I could not tell. One company of gibberers did run out along the 
breakwater to harry us, giving the Okrans archers who formed the Princes Honor Guard 
one last chance at revenge. The Okrans archers feathered the lot of them, casting one 
more sacrifice into Tagothchas fluid grasp. 
The winds blew in our favor, allowing us to travel as swiftly as we could toward 
Fortress Draconis. Tagothcha smoothed the way enough so that even Leigh no longer 
felt seasick. He still seemed weak, and used Temmer as a crutch, but some of his wit 
was back. He amused the Okrans soldiery amidships with his temeryx poem, and even 
offered some quick rhymes on their names. 
Dusk of the second day brought us very close to Vorquel-lyn. Though Lord 
Norrington ordered the ships to steer well north of it, keeping us safe from any Aurolani 
forces that might ship from the islands harbors, Tagothcha swirled cur-rents so we 
skimmed through the breakers crashing on Vor-quellyns beaches. He would let us get 
no closer than that, though, so we had no chance to set foot on the island. 
I knew, as did everyone else in the fleet, that landing troops in Vorquellyn was folly. 
Not only had we no clue as to the number and type of forces that would oppose us

there, but liberating the island would not lift the siege of Fortress Draconis. Any action 
on the island, even if it were complete and overwhelming, would be a hollow victory. 
Even with that realization, I very much wanted to venture forth. I felt it would be 
keeping faith with my pledge to Resolute, 
though I knew I could do nothing alone. 
Others looked longingly at the island, and yet others fearfully, but none with the anguish 
that Seethe did. 
Tagothcha does this to torture me. Seethe rested against the Invictus masthead, 
with her black hair blowing back past her shoulders. I showed him contempt and now 
he tries to break my heart. 
Standing beside her, with the cool breeze puckering my flesh, I studied the island that 
once had been her home. Trying to describe it is difficult because much of what I saw 
was colored by the sad tone of her voice, or the distant longing in her gaze. In both I 
could imagine a land that was greatly desirable, down on a level that shot past conscious 
valuations of yield per acre, or how much lumber could be harvested, or how much 
water was to be had. She needed Vorquellyn and needed it the way I needed air to 
breathe and water to drink. 
The island itself was such that it seemed to be a shadow of what she must have 
remembered. It was black, the whole of it, like a hillside after a wildfire. Trees had been 
stripped of foliage, 
leaving brittle black limbs to claw at the sky. Vales folded in on 
themselves, black on black, hillsides seeming to cast shadows that became mountains 
behind them. Streams that ran to the sea poured water blacker than bilge down dark 
cliffsides. 
Throughout the time the sun illuminated Vorquellyn I saw no life, but with night the 
island came alive. Red lights, millions 
of them, began to glow all over, as if the dead 
trees had red embers still burning in their heartwood. I held my hands out to see if I 
could feel any warmth, but instead my hands grew colder. Things moved within the 
landscape, shadows blotting out the red lights from time to time. Terrible shrieking 
rang from the hills, and snarling growls accompanied them, but I heard nothing of the 
noble howls of predators, or proud roaring of a triumphant killer standing over prey. 
Instead 
all the sounds were born of fearfear of being consumed, 
fear of having a kill 
stolen. 
Vorquellyn had become a dead land where brutish cruelty held sway. 
I stroked Seethes back with my left hand. I am so sorry for your loss. 
She chewed her lower lip for a moment, then looked at me with a single tear rolling 
down her left cheek. When they came, I was three years younger than you are now. I 
was days from my bonding to the land. At first we were told not to worry, that our 
warriors would hold, but that was because no one could believe Kreechuc could sustain 
his attack. But the ships still came, and they landed north and south, and in the west. We 
had counted on the sea as our fortress and Tagothcha betrayed us. 
My sister and young brother were given to my care and I kept us together. We 
escaped in the great flotilla. Sebcia, Saporcia, Muroso, merchant fleets from all the states 
came to carry us to safety. Fisherfolk, toomen and women who had forever stayed 
away from Vorquellyn because of wild tales of what we would do if they were found 
fishing in our waters they came to help. 
She sniffed and another tear crawled from her left eye. I reached over and brushed it 
away. And Loquellyn, did they send ships? 
Some, Ive been told, though the Loquelves maintain they were engaged crushing the 
Aurolani fleet. That may be true, they may have prevented Kreechuc from reinforcing his 
army on Vorquellyn, but by that time it was too late. Our homeland had been overrun 
and the desecration began. 
Seethe gave me a half smile. You want to know why Vor-quelves, for the most part,

endure conditions in Mantowns like the Downs? Why we have adopted Man-words for 
our names? It is the brave kindness men showed in saving us. We honor that, and we 
honor your sense of urgency. 
I dont understand. 
She reached up and stroked my cheek in turn. The leisure of a long life allows elves 
to view things in cycles, as if time and relations ebbed and flowed like the tides. We wait 
until the time for something is optimal, instead of merely possible. Men work when work 
is to be done, rejoicing at how easy it might be at the right time, but not shying from it 
if the timing is not perfect. The Vorquelves cannot wait for the best time to take 
Vorquellyn back. Elves tell us the time is not right, and men, well, the benefit of 
shedding their blood to free a land to which they have no claim is hard to see. Resolutes 
hope for a campaign to free Vorquellyn is a slender one. I hope, by joining 
this 
expedition, by fighting with you to save men, I will inspire others to help us. 
I nodded solemnly. I gave Resolute my pledge that I will see Vorquellyn liberated 
before I die. I make that same pledge to you. 
Seethe watched me in silence, her golden eyes unmoving. Then her smile broadened, 
but her brows furrowed, giving her a puzzled expression. You are a curious man, 
Tarrant Hawkins. 
You are young, yet very old; wise, but terribly foolish. You see things 
with clarity, but you do not see far enough. Even so, you commit yourself to your friends 
and your ideals, and you do not waver from them. 
I swallowed hard. I dont know what to say to that. 
And yet you admit it. She laughed a little. Thats one of your more endearing 
qualities. 
I almost mouthed one of the quick, glib remarks that Leigh would have once made, 
but I swallowed it instead. Thank you. 
You are more than welcome, Tarrant, more than welcome. 
She turned forward 
again, resting her elbows on the wale and studied the red lights on her homeland. I 
know you will be true to your pledge, and I look forward to standing with you in the 
heart of a Vorquellyn renewed. 
It took us a full day to sail past Vorquellyn. I stayed with Seethe all that time. I 
wrapped her in the blanket Leigh had given me and slumbered with her against the 
bulwark. I got us food and water. We did not talk much. We didnt feel the need to talk. 
An occasional touch, feeling her lean against me, that was all we needed. Having relied 
on men to save her from Vorquellyn, and relying on a man to support her as she sailed 
past, I think these things felt right and natural to her. 
Once past Vorquellyn, it was decided we would put in at some of the various coves 
and harbors that dotted the Ghost Marches coast. We would land small scouting parties 
to see what we could learn about the Aurolani forces in the area. Arcanslata 
communications with Fortress Draconis indicated that the Aurolani forcestwo large 
armies worthhad cut off the landward edge of the peninsula. This was not unexpected 
since Chytrine could not afford to leave Fortress Dragonis behind her advance where the 
troops could disrupt lines of supply and sally forth to attack her armies from the rear. 
A fleet blockaded the harbor at Fortress Draconis, and while it was deemed likely that 
we could win through it, our doing so would not lift the siege. It was thought we might 
be able to accomplish that task by landing a force to the west and coming overland while 
our fleet engaged the Aurolani fleet. Chytrines ground forces might assume our entire 
force had been fed into Fortress Draconis at that point, leaving them vulnerable to an 
attack from their rear. 
Before we could do that, however, we needed to guarantee that no Aurolani troops 
ranged through the Ghost Marches to fall on us from behind. Each ship in the fleet filled 
a long boat with a dozen warriors and dropped us off at various points. We were to look

around, see what we could find out, and report back after a day of scouting. 
Leigh, Nay, Seethe, and I made up a third of the Invictus scouting party. Lord 
Norrington wanted to come along, but his position made that impossible, just as Prince 
KiriUs injuries 
kept him aboard ship. We did have with us two Gyrkyme, toward whom 
Seethe acted somewhat coldly, but she agreed to travel with them nonetheless. The 
Loquelf scouts refused to have Gyrkyme with them, despite the ease with which the 
Gyrkyme could fly out to a ship and report findingsmuch less the ease with which they 
could fly around and see much more than we could on the ground. 
The Loquelves were not completely unsympathetic, however. 
Word had gotten 
around about my giving the sullanciri bow to Tagothcha despite having lost my bow in 
Svarskya. One of the elven bowyers took a silverwood blank and carved it into a close 
match for the sort of horsebow I was accustomed 
to using. He likewise cut down two 
dozen arrows to match my bows shorter draw. He fletched them in green and white, the 
Oriosan colors, and sent them with compliments. 
I didnt know how to react to such kindness and the notoriety 
Id gained. I suppose, 
in looking at the whole of what Nay and Leigh and I had done, we had done a lot, but I 
had no perspective on it. We slew temeryces in Westwood because we had no choice; 
likewise fighting as we did at Atval. And Leighs blind bowshot at the festival on Yslin 
had become a thing of legend, yet I knew, as did Nay and Leigh, that blind luck had 
been more at play than skill. Our actions at the bridge and the killing of two sullanciri, 
these were momentous things, but they were also things about which we had no choice. 
By virtue of our innocence we had embarked on an adventure that wiser, more 
experienced folk would have rejected. 
Nay handled it with silence or blushed smiles. Leigh, as he recovered, accepted praise 
with wit and bluster, belittling what he had done by exaggerating the circumstances, 
entertaining all and impressing them with his rakehell indifference to what he had 
endured. I felt very uneasy with it all, but also very proud of what wed done. I thanked 
well-wishers and tried to escape, but Ill admit to enjoying seeing eyes widen as I related 
some of our adventures. Hearing the praises of others can be seductive, and while I 
didnt seek them out, I didnt shrink overmuch from them when they were offered. 
The half-dozen men in our boat, drawn in pairs from Oriosan, 
Alcidese, and Okrans 
soldiery, foolishly looked to Leigh and me for leadership. I deferred to Seethe and 
convinced Leigh to do so as well, since she had a century of experience over either of us. 
Leigh raised an eyebrow at my suggestion, then nodded and winked, clearly assuming I 
wanted to im-press Seethe with my trust in her judgment because I was sweet on her. 
We landed in the early evening in a small sandy cove that had a well-worn trail 
leading back into a forest that all but reached the waters edge. Up over a small ridge, we 
came down into a marsh strewn with cattails, sawgrass, and fallen trees. We tried to skirt 
it, and one of the Gyrkyme flew out to see if she could find a path for us to cross. We 
were eventually able to get to the other side by moving along logs to little islands, 
leaping boggy puddles, and wading through reeking water. 
Heading a bit west we did find signs of a path that would take us back through the 
swamp without getting us too wet. It matched up with a meandering path that passed 
below the ridge of the hills. We likely would have headed out along it save that Nay saw 
a small cluster of metholanth trees and decided 
to harvest some leaves. He found leaves 
stripped from a couple of other branches and a footprint leading further west, which 
brought him to a narrow game trail that shadowed the larger footpath, but on the other 
slope of the hill. 
We took the game trail and headed north. We moved quietly, 
with Seethe in the 
front, since she could see in the dark. Leigh came behind her, then me and Nay, with the 
other men strung out behind and the Gyrkyme at the back. While the dense foliage

prevented them from taking to the air, they likewise 
could see in the dark, and having 
that in a rearguard is rather nice at night. 
Suddenly, ahead of us, something sounded with a faint pop, then Seethe spun and 
went down with an arrow quivering 
in her. Temmer swept from Leighs hilt. The blade 
blazed like a torch as he dashed forward. He leaped over Seethe, then swung his sword 
down and around in a great arc that sliced through a saplings bole as if it were nothing 
more than a jackstraw. The tree crashed and something struggled in its branches. Leighs 
blade rose and fell again, and the struggling ceased while he sped on. 
I dropped to a knee beside Seethe. The arrow had taken her through the meat of her 
upper left arm. She hissed in pain, but grabbed my jerkin and propelled me in Leighs 
direction. 
Go after him. Go! All of you, go! 
I upped and sprinted after him, passing close on Nays heels. Cloven branches and 
dying men littered Leighs trail. A couple of the men had their faces or stomachs slashed, 
but more and more of them were facedown with split spines or crushed skulls. That they 
had been struck down while running didnt wring any sympathy from me. They laid an 
ambush for us and it went wrong, so they got all they deserved. 
Over a ridge and down a thickly forested hillside we raced. I smelled smoke well 
before I saw fire. Running full out I clipped a tree with my shoulder. That spun me 
about and sent me crashing through a bush which caught at my ankles. I flopped on my 
face at the edge of a clearing. At its center burned a bonfire and in its light I could see 
Leigh. 
Temmers blaze rivaled that of the fire, splashing tall shadows 
against tent and tree, 
then hacking them in twain. Leigh was magnificent, his body taut, his every move 
precise and exact. Hed parry a lunge low, then come up with a cut that opened a man 
from groin to breastbone. A quick sidestep would dodge an overhand blow, then hed 
draw Temmer along the mans belly. Sliding it free, hed spin, duck a head-high slash, 
then hamstring the man rushing past. As pain arched the mans back, Temmer would 
cleave head from shoulders. 
Leigh spun once again, his shining blade raised high, the light in his eyes flickering 
with the fire. 
Leigh, no! I scrambled to my feet and ran at him. No, Leigh! 
Temmer fell quickly, as if sped by my shout. No hesitation, no shifting of its deadly 
arc. It fell true and straight and strong, chopping effortlessly through collarbone and 
breast, with a wounded heart pulsing blood up over the golden blades length. 
A terrified child, whose mother now lay dying before her, looked up at Leigh with 
huge eyes and began to cry. 
Temmer came up again, which was when my diving tackle caught Leigh at the knees. 
I gathered his ankles to my chest, but lost my grip as we hit the ground. Leigh spun to 
his feet and leveled Temmer at me. Fury contorted his face and he snarled at me in a 
tongue so ancient it made my flesh crawl. Temmer aimed itself at my eyes and Leigh 
began a lunge. 
Nay dropped his maul over Leighs head and shoulders, then hauled back and crushed 
the smaller man against his broad chest. Nay arched his back, hauling Leigh from his 
feet. Leigh tried to kick both heels back into Nays legs, but Nay had spread them. 
Closing his legs again, he caught Leighs ankles, then twisted and fell on his side. Nay 
rolled right, pinning Leigh beneath him and I stepped on Leighs right wrist, trapping 
Temmer. 
Leighs hand opened and the sword rolled from his grip. Nay waited a moment or 
two, then relaxed his grip and kicked the sword away. What did he ... Why? 
One of the Okrans soldiers toed the womans body onto her back. She had a knife. 
He told it truly, she did have a knife. A short-bladed, dull knife that still had a bit of a

dirty peel from a forest tuber caught near the wooden grip. A short ways away lay a pile 
of peels, a pot, and more roots to be prepared for boiling. Judging 
from the state of the 
tubers shed already tossed in the pot, her knife couldnt have so much as creased Leighs 
leathers, much less hurt him. 
I looked from Leighs unconscious form to Nay seated on Leighs back. She had a 
knife. She was the enemy. 
Nay shook his head. Leigh couldnt have seen her as a threat. 
No, Leigh couldnt. I toed Temmer. But the man who wields this blade isnt Leigh. I 
dont know who or what he is, but I hope to all the gods hes not destroyed our friend. 
What we learned from our scouting mission matched what the other parties found 
out. Chytrines armies had come south through the pass in the Boreal Mountains making 
straight for Fortress Draconis. More troops filtered through the pass on a daily basis and 
some of them got turned around. The men who had attacked us preyed on anyone 
moving through the areaAurolani, men, it didnt matter to them what they hit. 
The band wed captured were mostly women and children. While Leighs attack on 
that woman was enough to cow anyone, 
most of them didnt give any sign they cared. 
What theyd seen, the sort of existence they lived, had long since snuffed any sense of 
life. They seemed genuinely surprised that we buried the dead; I had the impression that 
had we left them alone, meat would have joined the roots in their pots. 
The rumors our scouts picked up did paint a nasty picture of the forces besieging 
Fortress Draconis. The armies that had headed west and hit Okrannel were composed 
mostly of vy-laens, gibberers, a handful of renegade elves, and a few temer-yces. The 
emphasis seemed to be on mobility and speed. While plenty of vylaens and gibberers 
filled the armies travel-ing south, drearbeasts, hoargouns, and enslaved men 
supplemented 
those armies. 
Drearbeasts and hoargouns I only knew from legend. Drearbeasts most resembled 
bears and lived on the icefields north of the Boreal Mountains. They were supposed to be 
huge, have long, saberlike fangs and white coats decorated with light blue striping. One 
rumor had an urZrethi sullanciri riding in a war chariot drawn by drearbeasts, but I 
doubted that since they didnt sound like draft animals to me. Still it did sound as if these 
creatures made up for in strength what they lacked in speed, and it didnt make me at all 
confident to hear that they preyed on temeryces by preference. 
Hoargoun is the word in the Aurolani tongue applied to glacier giants. Some folks 
said they were made of ice, but I gathered they said that because the hulking creatures 
had white hair and beards and pale skin. They stood two or three times as tall as a man 
and had massive feet to allow them to walk across snow without sinking. They were said 
to favor clubs, much as Nay did, which left me with an image of a creature towering up 
over me, wielding the iron-bound trunk of an oak tree. 
Not an image that lets one sleep without shivering awake in the wee hours of the 
night. 
To make things worse, one of the hoargoun was supposed to be a sullanciri. Those 
who saw it said they knew what it was because its flesh was black, though beard, hair, 
and eyes still remained white. Even now, years later, the very thought of a giant 
sullanciri sends shivers down my spine. 
Arcanslata consultation with Dothan Cavarre, Draconis Baron, produced a simple plan 
that our scouting runs indicated 
we should be able to accomplish to great effectand 
with little risk to ourselves. We grounded our main force northwest of the peninsula, 
about ten miles west of the Dur-grue River. Aurolani troops heading south tended to 
pass east of it, moving in long columns through the forests that led to the plains 
surrounding Fortress Draconis. According to the scouts Cavarre had operating in the 
area, the columns moved through the forests without fear and were ripe for an attack.

The other bit of trouble he had planned for the Aurolani host was something hed 
been saving for the right time. The Durgrue River had once flowed into a saltmarsh to 
the northwest 
of Fortress Draconis, but after the last invasion from the north, the marsh 
had been drained and dikes had been raised to hold back both the sea and river floods. 
He already had urZrethi sappers in place and theyd prepared deep tunnels that would 
flood the reclaimed land by diverting the river into it. Our attack would force the 
Aurolani generals to shift troops to the lowlands to cut us off from the fortress, then hed 
be able to flood it and catch them. 
We landed 3,500 troops at the appointed place and hooked up with the Draconis 
scoutselves from Croquellyn and Har-quellynwhile our ships sailed south to harry the 
blockade. We only had a hundred and twenty cavalry, which Prince Augustus 
formed up 
into two battalions and used as a screening force for our northern flank. Though the 
elvesboth those who had been with us and the new onesrefused to even 
acknowledge their existence, the half-dozen Gyrkyme scouted ahead for us. The rest of 
the force divided itself up into companies 
based on nationality, with the remnants like 
Leigh, Nay, Seethe, Faryaah-Tse Kimp, and myself serving in Lord Norringtons 
command company. 
In my comments about the ambush laid for us by the Ghost Marcher bandits, I may 
have implied that an ambush is a craven act. I think, in their case, it wasbecause they 
were only concerned with banditry. Their objective was to slaughter us for their personal 
gain. They attacked us with the zeal a prospector might employ to attack the earth when 
he hopes to uncover gold or gems. 
The ambush we laid for the Aurolani was far from an act of cowardice, though, and I 
dont think Im being hypocritical in saying that. Our aim was to destroy a force that was 
going to slaughter our comrades in Fortress Draconis. We meant for the Aurolani troops 
to disappear in a manner that would sow consternation among those in the siege force. 
What we would do could never be considered honorable in any mythic sensebards 
would not sing of details, but of our results. 
What we would do was what was required of us. 
For the ambush we selected a stretch of road that ran fairiv level through the forest. 
Our site came just beyond a valley which would have been a perfect location for an 
ambush, and which would have had the Aurolani troops on edge. Their relief on passing 
that point without an attack would make them relax, and prime them for our attack. The 
hills making up the western side of the valley still crowded the road on one side, but on 
the other the trickle of a stream ran through a shallow ravine with a hill further on, 
maybe twenty yards from the road. The trees in the area were such that only the first ten 
yards of that hill could be seen from the roadway, so anyone waiting on the crest would 
be invisible. 
Lord Norrington arrayed his forces beautifully. The Okrans guards he placed on the 
hilltop, armed with spear, ax, and sword. To the south on either side he hid Oriosan and 
Alcidese warriors. On the western hill he placed his archers, so they could shoot down 
on the Aurolani troops. Prince Augustus 
kept his horsemen back from the road in a 
clearing to the west. When the ambush happened they would swing around and down to 
charge through any Aurolani forces that sought to retreat to the north. Other companies 
would cut the road to the north and prevent any other forces from catching up with the 
stricken group. 
I had my place with the archers and crossbowmen, which kept me close to Lord 
Norrington since his signal to us would begin the ambush. Leigh and Nay and Seethe, 
along with a company of Oriosans, stood with us to keep the Aurolani forces away from 
the archers. It wasnt that we couldnt fight in our own right, but our shots picking out 
targets on the road would be more useful than our trading swordstrokes with gib-berers

on the hillside. 
Seethe stood near me, her sword in hand. The arrow shed taken the day before had 
been pulled from her muscles easily enough and Id returned the favor of stitching her 
flesh shut. I wasnt as skilled at it as she was, but I did my best because I didnt want 
scars marring her smooth skin. 
Nay stood near Leigh, his maul resting on his right shoulder. 
Leigh had not yet 
drawn Temmer; instead, a crossbow hung from his right hand. Still, his left hand did 
rest on the swords hilt. Back on board the Invictus, Leigh had apologized to me and 
thanked both Nay and me for holding him back. He stared into space, reaching a hand 
out, as if he could brush away the tears on the little girls face. What I almost did . . . 
he breathed over and over. Never again. 
Looking at him, now, waiting to fight again, he looked determined. I think he knew 
the sword had gotten the better of him in the chaos of the ambush. He was set against it 
doing that again. On his face I read the same sort of resolution I had seen countless 
times as my father put us through our paces. It felt good to see him wear that 
expression again. 
The Aurolani host came marching down the road with an ease that suggested they 
were parading through a village, not making their way through hostile territory. I guess 
it would have been a battalioneight companies of thirty individuals, with a 
double-handful of vylaens to lead them and several younger gibberkin bearing the unit 
banners. Behind them came several makeshift wagons, laden with arms, armor, food, 
and the other necessities of an army on the road. A final company came in the rear with 
a shambling hoargoun dragging 
a massive club behind him. 
Wed been assigned our targets beforehand, so when the middle of their column 
reached us, with each company arrayed 
five deep in six rows, we stood up at Lord 
Norringtons hand signal. With the first blast of a horn we shot, bows twanging, 
crossbows thrumming. Arrows and bolts hissed through the air, striking targets with wet 
sucking sounds, hard cracks, or loud clanks. The lead company crumpled as if they were 
toy soldiers flattened by the swat of an angry childs hand. 
I shot at the middle company and found my elven bow a joy. I could draw it easily 
and it sped my arrow to its mark. I hit a vylaen, spinning him around before he dropped 
to the ground. His command baton flew through the air as his hand slackened, then a 
gibberer shot through the head flopped down over him. 
Again I shot and again, sending an arrow into a gut-shot gibberer. I caught another 
scrambling up the hill toward us and sent an arrow through his paw, pinning it to a tree 
he was using to help himself up. Two more arrows crossed in his chest, leaving him 
dangling there for a moment until his weight tore his flesh free. 
On the roadway, pandemonium reigned. The horses drawing 
the carts bolted when 
arrows stung their flanks. The wagons 
careened off the roadway and overturned, 
breaking apart. Armor and provisions crashed and clanked into an avalanche that buried 
fleeing gibberers. I saw at least one carter leap free of his doomed wagon, though by the 
time he struck the ground, a half-dozen quivering shafts had transfixed him. 
Gibberers poured down over the edge of the road and splashed across the stream to 
get away from us. On all fours they fled, looking so very bestial in their panic. Because 
of the trees, they disappeared from my sight quickly, but a trumpet blast from that side 
of the road split the night, followed by war cries shouted from human throats. Gibberers 
shrieked and moaned, stumbling back down the hillside clutching split heads. Others ran 
as if being chased by arms that dangled from shoulders on sinewy cords. 
Others came up at us, so Leigh cast aside his crossbow and moved into the thick of 
them. Temmer burned brightly as Leigh stalked the hillside with a cold, deliberate tread. 
A gib-berer drove at him, lunging with a longknife. Leigh backed half a step, whirled

Temmer around in circle that took the sword-arm off at the elbow, then continued up 
and around and back down to decapitate the creature. Its head bounced its way down to 
the feet of other gibberers who stared in horror at it and Leigh. My friend feinted with his 
head, leaning toward them, leering at them, daring them to come against him. 
The rearguard, save the hoargoun, fled north, right into the teeth of Augustus 
charge. The infantry broke on the horses breasts. The cavalry slashed with their swords, 
striking down those who sought to run from them. They passed from company to 
company, blasting through ranks, scattering gibberers 
and chasing more along the 
roadway. 
The hoargoun leaped from the roadway and began to crash his way up the hill toward 
us. His free hand battered aside saplings, and his broad feet smashed bushes and dead 
gibberers. 
Arrows flew at him, stinging his face, chest, gut, and legs, but on he came as 
if they were of no consequence. His feet churned the earth and his advance split the 
gibberers facing Leigh. The hoargouns club rose, sweeping through branches, and 
trembled as he came within striking distance of the man with the golden sword. 
Leigh stared up at him, brandishing the blade. 
Defiant. 
Terrified. 
Ready to die. 
The giants ponderous club started down, but before it could strike, Nay flew from the 
hilltop and swung his own club in a flat arc. The club slammed into the giants left knee 
from the side, shattering bone, popping sinew. The hoargoun roared with pain and his 
club pounded the ground, filling the gap between Leigh and Nay. The blow shook the 
earth, pitching 
Leigh into a roll across the face of the hill. 
Nay kept his feet and danced to his right, whirling his club in an upward stroke. It 
caught the giants left elbow, shattering it with the sound of a ships mast snapping. As 
the giant tried to catch himself on his left hand, he crashed to the ground. His chin dug a 
furrow in the leafy loam, and a stout oaks trunk stopped the giants roll to the left. 
Nays last blow landed hard on the giants right temple. A wet sound dulled the sharp 
crack of bone, but there was no mistaking the dent he left in the hoargouns head. The 
giants body shook and his last shuddered breath blew a blanket of leaves over Leigh. 
More arrows flew, more gibberers screamed, and more blood flowed, but within 
minutes we had wiped out an Auro-lani battalion. Our ambush had been swift and 
deadly. We suffered a few casualties, but nothing splints and thread would not cure. In 
less than a quarter of an hour wed slaughtered an enemy force. We rejoiced in what we 
had done yet all of us knew this was only the beginning. 
What we did next has been said to have taken the heart out of Chytrines army. Im 
not certain that her force ever had a heart to start with. It certainly did show her and us 
the depths to which we could and would go in our war. Somehow I had never doubted 
we would do what must be done, but being shown so graphically that which we were 
capable of, it was the sort of thing that still fuels nightmares. 
Prince Scrainwood engineered the whole thing. Orchestrated 
would be a better word. 
At Scrainwoods direction we moved the hoargoun around and propped him up against 
some trees, as if he had just stepped off the road and seated himself for a time. His club 
rested across his knees and his arms were folded over it. His head lolled against a tree, 
hiding the crushed portion of his skull, making him appear as if he had just fallen asleep. 
Of course, chances are that no one who looked at the tableau 
below him could ever 
sleep, then or ever. 
We hacked the heads from each and every one of the gib-berers and vylaens, then 
placed them, row upon row, back in the formations theyd had as they marched along. 
The units banners were dug in, so each company could easily be identified. 
We

salvaged two of their wagons and filled them with arms and armor and other relics. 
Scrainwood insisted that we tear strips of gibberer hide from the bodies: one for each of 
us and some left over for the kings and queens who ruled over us. The bodies were then 
hauled away to a ravine and dumped. 
As we marched away, with dusk slowly stealing through the trees, I looked back at 
what we had done. With distance and fading light, it almost looked as if the Aurolani 
host had somehow 
sunk to their necks in mud. The scene looked terribly peaceful, 
which I knew wasnt right. 
Then again, at the time, I couldnt think what was wrong with it. 
Seethe reached out and took my left hand in her right, tugging me along. Its best to 
be away from here. 
Afraid of ghosts, Seethe? 
No, Tarrant, not afraid of ghosts. She looked back at the ranks of heads and I felt a 
tremble run through her. Just afraid of being haunted. 
Tt took us a day and a half to reach Fortress Draconis. We I moved down the river 
road, making good time. Prince Au-Igustus cavalry forded the river about a mile north 
of where the infantry would cross a bridge. When Gyrkyme scouts returned 
to tell us 
they were in position, we moved in, hitting the ford garrison from both east and west. 
They died quickly enough, and after we got ourselves across, we destroyed the bridge. 
Being less than a century old, it had no weirun and came apart easily as magicks 
eroded the mortar. 
The day remained cool and low fog lingered on the land until noon, which was when 
we reached the mile-long stretch of rolling plains that separated the upland forests from 
the peninsula at the western shore. To the east the plains broadened 
in a wide 
semicircle, covering the land from northwest to southeast, completely cutting the 
Draconis Peninsula off. Encamped 
there, from the edges of the forest down to the 
lowlands 
nearest the fortress, Aurolani hordes stretched as far as I could see. Their 
tents dotted the landscape like fungus, and knots of gibberers moved between them like 
ants, scurrying from home to food and back. 
Between the enemy camps and the low walls of Fortress Draconis outer city lay a 
series of trenches. The Aurolani trenches paralleled the walls, with offshoots moving 
closer. Their aim was to move their siege machinery close enough to shoot at the 
fortresss walls, and to get their sappers close enough to tunnel beneath them, to 
undermine them and pull them down. The trenches nearest the fortress worked out 
toward the Aurolani trenches, both to break up any avenue that would allow a charge 
and to let our sappers locate enemy tunnels and collapse them. 
The only area where no trenches existed was the area we were coming through. The 
Aurolani troops had not spread themselves to cover this approach yet, and with good 
reason. If Dothan Cavarre decided to evacuate the fortress, theyd only allow him to go 
north, which would not help him at all. The Aurolani forces had concentrated themselves 
to the south and east, preventing escape and cutting off landward reinforcement. 
When 
more of their forces arrived, they could complete their encirclement of the fortress and 
the siege could begin in earnest. 
The siege would not be easyjust a glance at Fortress Draconis would tell anyone 
that. I apologize for not describing it first, since it was definitely the dominant feature on 
the plain, but to present its majesty first would make it seem impossible 
that the 
Aurolani forces presented any threat to it at all. When I looked at it I felt my spirits 
soarand even Leigh, as lethargic as he had been since his close brush with death, 
mustered a smile. Had we not been ordered to keep silent, a cry would have risen from 
our company. 
Fortress Draconis had been started seven centuries before and constantly expanded

since then. The fortress sat astride a peninsula that jutted into the Crescent Sea and rose 
to a height of a hundred yards above sea level at the highest point. The northwest side 
had a natural harbor to which had been added a causeway that served as a breakwater. 
At its western end rose a massive tower which commanded the approach to the harbor. 
A low, thick wall with towers every two hundred yards along it sealed the landward 
end of the peninsula. The rocky nature of the peninsula itself served as walls on the 
seaward sides, but towers had been raised along the shore to allow defenders to repel 
attackers. Elevated causeways linked these towers and made the open spaces between 
them seem inviting. Anyone scaling the cliffs, as we had done to get at the bridge, would 
find attackers on the arched walkways pouring molten lead or arrows or burning oil on 
them, which could be most effective in discouraging an attack. 
A second, higher wall all but circled the peninsulas heart. The only gap in it opened 
at the harbor. Between the shore and this second wall lay Draconis township. It served 
as home to the masons, armorers, fletchers, bowyers, clerics, merchants, 
tavernkeepers, and prostitutesall the support personnel 
that made life in such a place 
possible. The township itself looked fairly unremarkable save that its roadways made 
little or no sense, since they curled around and cut off at odd anglesa carters 
nightmare if ever Id seen one. It would only occur to me later that this tangle of streets 
meant that collapsing 
a house or raising a barricade would make progress of an 
attacking army quite difficult. 
In the area between the second wall and the wall of the original fortress lay the 
garrison town. Here were the barracks for troops, warehouses for weapons and armor, a 
temple to Kedyn, and storehouses full of food, wine, oil, and other necessities 
for 
withstanding a siege. In this section of town the architecture changed, with each building 
having a heavy, blocky profile. Windows were arrowslits, doors were iron and deep set, 
allowing defenders to use murderholes cut above them to discourage attackers. Each one 
of the buildings, constructed 
of grey granite blocks, was a fortress unto itself. As I 
would find out later, a regular warren of tunnels linked the warehouses and storehouses 
with the tower, allowing the shifting 
of troops and materiels as needed. 
The tower complex, strong and dark and ancient in its majesty, rivaled the 
architecture of Svarskya and Yslin. Whereas they had an artistry about them, the sheer 
power of the buttressed monstrosity thrusting up into the sky allowed it to dominate the 
landscape. Balconies ringed it. At the top, a conical leaded roof ended in a spike upon 
which flew a blue flag with a dragon rampant emblazoned on it. 
A taller, thicker wall surrounded the base of the tower, with enough space between 
the towers base and the wall to allow for several city streets and normal buildings, 
though I imagined they would all have the heavy construction Id seen in the garrison 
town. Eight smaller towers split the walls at the cardinal points, providing a command of 
the surrounding area. 
If Fortress Draconis had a weirun, I would have expected it to be a martial spirit 
Kedyn would be happy to claim as a son. 
The Croquelf leading Cavarres scouts pointed out a path across the dike holding the 
sea back. We will move along there and enter through the harbor. 
Lord Norrington frowned. The outer wall has water lapping 
at the edge of it. An 
Aurolani charge could drive us off the dike and into the sea. In armor were not going to 
swim well. 
The Croquelf laughed. Fear not, the Snow Fox thinks of everything. 
The Snow Fox? Prince Kirill frowned. This is Dothan Cavarre? 
Yes. His father was Baron before him and called the Fox. His son is very much his 
heir; you will see. 
A flag went up on the lower battlements and the elf summoned 
us forward along the

dike. It was broad enough to be a road, and level, too, so we were able to make good 
progress along it. While the lowlands between us and the Aurolani host was smooth 
land, suitable for a charge, we took the Croquelf at his word and cautiously set worry 
aside. After all, the lowlands 
were supposed to be flooded as the enemy came at us. 
And come they did. As we started along the dike, trumpets blared and flags waved. 
Company after company of gibberers and vylaens ran this way and that to form up in 
good order. We faced a front of ten companies and, if my count of flags was right, it ran 
nine companies deep, pitting us against nine battalions, or a force of almost 2,500 
creatures. While that number did daunt me, what disturbed me more was that barely a 
tenth of the Aurolani camp roused itself to deal with us. 
We kept moving and I waited for the secret tunnels leading from the river to burst 
open. I wanted to see white foaming water wash away the front ranks, sending gibberers 
rolling and bobbing. I wanted to see the other ranks turn in their panic, shattering the 
ranks behind them. I wanted to see a lake fill the lowlands, dotted with gibberer corpses 
like so many mottled islands. 
The floods did not come. The gibberers did, marching ever closer. While we 
outnumbered them, we were stretched out on the dike. Their charge against us would be 
as deadly as our ambush had been. I eased my bow from across my body and fingered 
an arrow. I noticed the other archers among us make similar preparations, and even 
Lord Norrington loosened his sword in its scabbard. 
Our guide did not seem concerned at all, which made me feel no better. Prince 
Augustus formed his cavalry up at the northern end of the dike, ready to mount a 
suicidal charge to break the enemy formation from the flank. The horsemen wouldnt get 
very far before they were overwhelmed, but Augustus 
forethought was characteristic of 
the sort of leader he was. 
The gibberers, now only a thousand yards from us, sped up their pace. They began 
trotting toward us, eating up ground. I nocked an arrow, cursing myself for being so 
nervous. 
The elven archers further back had not yet set arrow to bow, knowing that 
even our best shots wouldnt kill until the gibberers closed to within a hundred yards. I 
swallowed hard and licked my lips, flexed my right hand and continued walking, 
but I 
was always ready to stop and shoot. 
At five hundred yards the gibberers began to run, and it was then that trumpets 
blasted from the fortresss walls. Flags shot to the top of poles mounted on towers. The 
distant shouts of orders could be heard, and Id have despaired save that the flags and 
shouts coaxed a laugh from our guide. 
Siege machines, big and small, hidden behind walls and ramparts, arched their loads 
into the air. I saw casks fly out, trailing stout line. When it went taut, the barrels burst, 
their staves opening like the petals of a flower. From within them flew countless 
calthrops, made of nails welded together so no matter which way they landed, a spike 
always faced up. This rain of pointed metal spread out in the gibberers path, with front 
ranks pulling up lame, and those following battering them down or tripping over 
themdodging only to skewer their own feet. 
Clouds of arrows and spears arched over the battlefield. Lead weights had been 
mounted behind the points, some larger, some smaller, so that the projectile rain spread 
itself in a line that cut across the battlefield. Whole companies died at once, leaving huge 
gaps in the enemy formation. 
Massive logs arched into the sky, but did not fly as an arrow might. They came 
broadside. They smashed down into the gibberers, pulping those upon whom they 
landed, then rolled on, out away from the walls, flattening whole companies. 
One log, 
which developed a wobble in flight, hit at one end first, then the other, pitching broken 
bodies and sod into the air as the ends alternately touched down.

Mismatched stones linked by chains were hurled through the sky. Id seem similar 
missiles used in our sea battle, designed 
to take down a mast and sails, but in the 
lowlands it had another, more curious effect. The heavier stone would strike first, 
squashing gibberers beneath it, and would anchor the second stone. Its momentum 
would stretch the chain taut, then the second stone would roll in a great arc, scything 
down warriors in a bloody circle. 
Even more devastating than those weapons were the napthalm spitters. The bronze 
nozzles had been fashioned to resemble the heads of serpents and had been mounted 
midway 
down the tower walls. Torches guttered in the serpents nostrils. They sprayed 
out a great stream of napthalm which the torches ignited, transforming the dark liquid 
into a cascade 
of fire. One tower projected a fiery curtain in front of the Aurolani 
warriors, while two others played their flaming torrents 
over the gibberers. Fire-touched 
warriors screamed and ran, or curled up into little balls and burned. 
Nothing got through the firewall to challenge us. More arrows and snears. stones and 
loes flew from within the for-tress to break the gibberers, but their formations had 
dissolved. 
Their retreat was headlong and fast. 
I looked past the burning field at the rest of the Aurolani host. It didnt matter that 
they had twenty thousand or thirty thousand warriors out there. There was no way they 
could successfully lay siege to Fortress Draconis. Chytrine had to know that, had to know 
her troops could not break the fortress. 
I shivered because despite that certain knowledge, she had sent her troops out and 
that meant she knew something I did not. I took that realization as a harbinger of 
disaster. 
Is we neared the outer wall, a trio of barges slid into place lt and were lashed 
together to form a floating bridge. It then I lfunneled the whole of our host into the 
township. The elven guide brought Lord Norrington, Prince Kirill, Nay, Leigh, Seethe, 
and me over to meet Dothan Cavarre, the Draconis Baron. 
It was not hard to see why he was also known as the Snow Fox, for he was a small 
man with hair so blond it seemed almost white. His sharp features were accentuated by 
the meticulously 
trimmed white moustache and goatee that brought his chin to a point. 
High cheekbones hollowed his cheeks. Hints of blue flecked his grey eyesthe eyes 
themselves being restless and constantly shifting from wide-eyed wonderment to a 
focused narrowing to study something or someone. 
The fact that he was smalla good head shorter than mewas emphasized by the 
fact that he wore a loose-fitting silken tunic of blue, black silk pantaloons, and knee-high 
black leather boots. An oversized belt slanted across his waistline and a dagger hung in a 
sheath at his right hip. It had no sword to balance it at the left, though a folded pair of 
gloves did reside there. His hands had long, slender fingers, but they were uncalloused 
as if hed never done a day of work in his life. 
Judging by the seamless nature of his face, his life had not been that long, either. If 
he was five years my senior, I could have spit fire at gibberers myself and watched them 
run. How someone like him became the commander of Fortress Draconis, I could not 
imagine. Then, just at the point when I was judging him the most harshly, a shift of the 
wind carried the scent of roasting gibberer to me and I did have to credit his methods 
for their efficacy. 
Ah, yes, Lord Norrington, at last. He grasped Lord Nor-ringtons hand in both of his 
and pumped it mightily. I have enjoyed our correspondence via arcanslata very much. I 
am so glad to have you here. Youve brought thirty-five hundred men, yes? Good. That 
brings us nearly to ten thousand in the garrison here, not counting the militia raised 
from the township. 
Theyre really not useful for much, but . . . Yes? 
Lord Norrington held up his free hand. I am pleased to be here, but before we

continue, I would introduce to you Prince Kirill of Okrannel . . . 
My pleasure, Highness. The Snow Fox shook his hand and smiled, then killed the 
smile instantly. I was sorry to hear of your wifes passing, and of the loss of your city. 
The smile returned in a flash. I have had word that your daughter has arrived in the 
south unharmed. 
Kirills face brightened. Thank you for telling me that. 
Dothan moved on and brought Seethes right hand to his mouth for a kiss. A 
Vorquelf. You would be Seethe, sister to Oracle, who produced the Norrington 
prophecy? 
Seethes eyes widened. I am. 
Good, very good. I like the sound of the prophecy, but would prefer to hear it in the 
native Elvish. Mine is weak, of course. Im out of practice, and speak with a dreadful 
Cro-quelf accent, but if you wish to converse ... 
Thank you, my lord. A hint of confusion ran through Seethes voice. Perhaps we 
will have a chance. 
Im sure of it. Dothan released her hand, then opened his arms to take in Nay, 
Leigh, and me. And here they are, all birds of a feather, as it were. You would be 
Naysmith Carver, giant-slayer, if reports are right. 
Arrows would have killed him eventually. Modest, too; splendid. And you, you are 
Bosleigh Nor-rington. You wield Temmer and have killed twoTWOsul-lanciri. 
Perhaps your presence here can give the two out there something to fear.  Leigh 
nodded wearily. That would be my hope. 
Of course it would, my boy, of course it would. The Snow Fox turned and faced me. 
And you are Tarrant Hawkins. 
Ive heard you reached into a temeryxs chest and 
squeezed its heart until it died. I see by the bow youve impressed 
Loquelven 
archersnot easy to do for a man. 
Ive done no more than anyone else. Extraordinary times demand the extraordinary 
from everyone. 
He clapped his hands, then turned back to Lord Nor-rington. Well, 
then, I should love to take you on a tour of the fortress, if you dont mind. I have people 
who will bring your troops to their billetsno dearth of room here. Well get them fed 
and to bed, then give them assignments that will familiarize 
them with the fortress. No 
heavy work yet; some relaxation, 
yes? 
Lord Norrington nodded. That sounds right. Ah, here are Princes Augustus and 
Scrainwood. My lords, this is our host, Dothan Cavarre. 
Prince Augustus, your cavalry looked very smart drawn up there on the plain. I 
almost let some of the gibberers through to watch you work, but I was too selfish. 
Forgive me. 
Prince Augustus smiled. Im sure we will have another chance to show you our skill. 
Indeed. Dothan looked at Prince Scrainwood. I hope you will enjoy your stay with 
us. 
Prince Kirill adjusted the sling holding his left arm. You said you almost let some of 
the gibberers through. We thought you were going to flood the lowlands. 
Oh, I was, I was ... 
Preparations went awry? 
No, Prince Kirill, not at all. They went very well. Dothan smiled. Ill show you, of 
course, but I decided to save the flood for another time. Couldnt have used the 
calthrops since the land would get too marshy, you see. Wouldnt have worked at all. I 
wanted to give them something to think about, so I gave them a little taste of what we 
have in store for them. Leighs father nodded. It was an impressive display. 
If you liked that, then come, let me show you everything else. The Snow Fox started 
toward the outer wall, saw hed have to march us through the troops streaming in, so he

spun about and started off in another direction, then shifted to a third. Come along, this 
is it. 
The Fortress Draconis he toured us through is hard to imagine now for anyone who 
had not seen it previously. The changes made over the years did not so much 
overshadow the brilliance of the original design, but rather just layered excess over it. It 
was like dipping a candle in wax over and over again, sometimes all the way, sometimes 
not, ending up with a bloated thing that lacks the elegance of its core. 
For instance, he showed us how he had small catapults mounted on a turntable that 
allowed him to swivel them around. Or how the napthalm spitters were nozzles in the 
center of a tower that could move up and down or side to side, but were connected via a 
stout hose to a tank in a chamber higher in the tower. The weight of the fluid forced it 
out through the hose without any pumps to break down. In yet other places he had long 
metal rails running in parallel, and along them were drawn carts carrying arrows or 
spears or stones or canisters of calthrops to the ballistae. 
Quoting Dothan Cavarre exactly is difficult, given how he runs on with his words so. 
Any one of his monologues might touch on dozens of subjects, and sorting out fact from 
opinion and linking them to the right subjects was enough work to keep me silent 
throughout the tour. I was able to confirm that he was only four years older than me, 
which made him Princess 
Ryhopes age, yet his knowledge of the world surpassed that 
of the eldest man in Valsina. 
He had become the Draconis Baron because his father, Raakin, had been the Draconis 
Baron before him; but the post was not one passed on via a bloodline. When his fathpr i 
to look for a replacement. Dothan, who had spent his entire life in Fortress Draconis, 
applied for the position, submitting his application under an assumed name. His father, 
who helped choose a successor, did not know his own son was one of the candidates. 
You see, I did not have the military experience of the other candidates, no, indeed. 
But then, no one had repulsed an Aurolani attack in almost a century, so no one had the 
experience needed, really. But I had spent my whole life here, growing up in the 
fortress, exploring every nook and cranny. Id watched all the troops, become a mascot 
for some, learned Elvish and urZrethiwhich is a gods-awful tongue for a man to 
tryand discovered I had no skill with weapons, save to invent them and perfect them 
and imagine how to use them. 
Dothans smile broadened, his steps lengthened, and his arms swung wide as he 
turned circles and led us through the fortress. His right hand lovingly caressed the 
central spine of the Crown Tower as he ascended the spiral steps through its heart. At 
each level hed have us leave the stairs and move to the balconies so we could get a 
better look at the carvings on the walls, or the tapestries hung there, or some little 
treasure brought from this nation or that. 
He was quite proud of everything, as well he should have been. 
I think I found the flying buttresses the most impressive. They had not been carved, 
but poured of a mixture of limestone 
and sand, which was blended into a slurry and fed 
into wooden forms that had been carved with designs. He called it acretestone. Metal 
posts ran through the mixture, which hardened 
and set, then the next piece was 
poured. The forms produced 
a stone in the shape of a dragon, which stood on the head 
of the one below it, and so on down to the ground, with the dragons getting slightly 
smaller as the buttress went up. When we got to the top, the uppermost dragons leaned 
in to hold the tower upright. We could have easily walked out on their broad 
backsDothan offered us the chance to do so, in factbut I demurred. 
It is quite solid, Hawkins. It can support a lot of weight. 
Thats fine, I believe you. I held my hands up. After all we have been through, 
walking out there is one more chance than I want to take.

Very good point, Hawkins. Dothan laughed aloud. Why drink from the cask of luck 
now when you might need a mouthful later? 
The Crown Chamber capped the tower, as one might expect. 
Stout wooden rafters 
supported the leaded, conical roof. The chamber itself had no decoration or furnishings 
aside from a round firepit at the floors heart in which burned a small votive fire and 
three small plinths arranged around it. On each plinth rested a dazzling stone bound in 
goldalmost identical matches for the piece of the DragonCrown Id seen in Svarskya. 
One stone was a ruby, another a bright yellow sapphirelike stone, and the last a green 
stone resembling the one Id seen before. It had hints of blue in it, the significance of 
which I did not know. 
We looked at the room through a wall made of the same iron bars that covered the 
windows in a crosshatched pattern. Dothan smiled and rested his hand on the iron-bar 
door in the center of the wall. I would invite you in to look at the pieces of the crown 
more closely, but trie effort of disarming the thief traps would take far too long. If you 
would like a closer look, however, I can bring you along on my weekly inspection. 
Lord Norrington gave him a quick nod. That would be appreciated, but only if it is no 
trouble. 
None whatsoever, not at all, not at all. The master of Fortress Draconis waved us 
back toward the stairs. You have come a long way and have accomplished much. Let 
me see you to your accommodations. Please, consider the fortress your home. Make 
yourselves at homeuse the gardens, raid my wine cellar, whatever suits your fancy. 
Prince Kirill smiled. You are most generous. 
I would like to think so, but everything I have here has come from the nations of the 
worldyour nations. Our supply 
often exceeds our demand, so we have excess for 
times like this. Giving it to you, to repay what you have done, it is the least I can do. 
Dothan Cavarres least was by far the most luxurious treatment 
Id had in my entire 
life. The apartments he led us to were small, but filled with ornate furnishings. I had a 
big bed with a canopy over it and a heavy down quilt covering it. A wardrobe and a 
matching chest of drawers stood as sentries on either side of the door, then a sideboard, 
a small table, and four upholstered chairs took over the half of the room next to the bed. 
A small iron stove functioned in place of a hearth and hugged the wall right beside the 
bed, with the stovepipe burrowing 
into the wall and, I presumed, linking up with some 
flue hidden therein. A couple of rugs covered most of the floor. The window, which was 
functionally narrow, gave me a distant glimpse of the harbor. 
The sideboard had three decanters full of wine and four goblets, as well as some 
cheese and a small basket of dried fruit. Id just unstoppered a crystal decanter to sniff at 
the red wine therein, when a gentle knock preceded a servant slipping into my room. He 
was older than me, but not by much, and held himself erectmaking me wonder if he 
werent a soldier pressed into auxiliary duty. 
Begging your pardon, sir, but the Baron, he asked that I conduct you to the bathing 
center. 
I returned the stopper to the decanter, then set it back on the sideboard. He opened 
the door and I followed. We took a stairway worked in the external wall and descended 
to ground level. He led me past the arched doorway to a vast room tiled in ivory, with 
mosaics on the walls and along the bottom of pools. Steam rising from most of the 
pools prevented me from getting a good look at the art, but the general theme seemed 
to have something to do with the slaying of Aurolani beasts. 
I disrobed in the alcove the servant indicated. I left my mask hanging from a peg and 
donned a slender cloth bathing mask of brown. I cut down through a cool corridor and 
slipped into a pool of warm waterone of several, each hidden 
from the rest of the 
room and each other by a low wall. The brushes and soap tucked into niches around the

rim led me to believe I was supposed to scrub myself in this pool before visiting any of 
the others, and the wall allowed me the I wanted to remove my mask to bathe. I took 
the hint to heart, pulled my mask off, and plied the soap and brush over my skin with 
serious effort. In fairly short order my skin shed the brown hue Id mistaken as sun-tint 
from my journey. Feeling truly clean for the first time in ages, I tied my bathing mask 
back into place and slipped from that pool to one that was slightly hotter, and from there 
into another that was hotter still. I closed my eyes and floated there blissfully, drawing 
the warm wet air deep into my lungs. The heat melted away the knots in my muscles 
and returned to me a sense of peace Id all but forgotten existed. 
I bobbed up and down as someone elses entry sent ripples through the pool. I rolled 
over and smiled as both Leigh and Nay entered the pool. Nay was smiling broadly and 
groaned delightedly as he sank to his neck in the steaming water. Leigh still moved a bit 
slowly, but even his face lit up as the water wrapped him in a hot cocoon. Me, I was just 
happy to see him without Temmer. 
Nay sighed aloud. There were nights on the ships, in the rain, that this was just a 
dream. 
Leigh nodded. The cold, it just sinks into your bones, but this burns it out again. He 
lowered his face into the water, then came up with his face dripping and his blue eyes 
bright. Well, lads, who would have thought wed be here, doing this, a scant three 
months ago? Hawkins, you were hoping youd be a Scout, and Nay, well, I dont know 
what you were hoping. 
Being a Scout would do. 
Those are still goals we can attain. I frowned at Leigh. What were you hoping for 
yourself? He shrugged. Does it matter? Now I have new goals. Marry a princess, start a 
dynastythe usual, you know. 
Oh, indeed. I affected the lilting tone of his voice. Slay a dragon, conquer Aurolan: 
trivial matters. 
Quite so, quite so. Nays attempt at aping Leighs tone had enough enthusiasm to 
cover the stiffness therein. I expected 
him to continue, but he stopped and his face 
drained of color. I whirled around to see what he was staring at, then had to lunge for 
the edge of the pool to catch myself. 
A man stood in the mists, wearing the ceremonial cloak of a Knight of the Phoenix. 
His left hand came up, touched just below his left eye, descended and rose againthe 
signal for us to follow him. He spun on his heel, his cloak swirling through the mist, then 
he disappeared out of the room. 
The three of us got over our astonishment rather quickly and hauled ourselves out of 
the pool. I went immediately for the alcove where Id left my true mask. I wasnt so 
much concerned about being naked as I was about having a bathing mask on. The other 
two followed. We found our masks, and Phoenix Knight cloaks where our clothes had 
been. Pulling them on, we ran through the hall to try and find the person who had 
summoned us, but he was gone. 
Leigh pointed to wet bootprints on the stone. We quickly followed them and 
descended a stairway, then found the Fledgling sign worked in a stone along the side of 
a narrow corridor. Nay pushed on the stone, then pulled his hand away as if it had been 
stung. Not liking that at all. 
A magickal glow began in the stone. Further down the corridor a section of the wall 
pulled back and tipped down, providing us a drawbridge into another corridor. I led us 
across the section of wall, then had to turn immediately to the left to continue even 
though the corridor looked as if it extended 
for a good long distance. Had a breach 
been opened in the wall and Id tried to leap across the chasm, Id have slammed into a 
wall that had been ingeniously painted to look like a corridor. Id have either dashed my

brains out, or fallen to my death below, and I wasnt certain which fate I would have 
preferred. 
We descended a spiral staircase and came out onto a narrow 
platform. Steep stairs 
ran up from it to a broader, deeper platform, perhaps five feet above us and fifteen feet 
back. Starting level with it, a semicircular series of benches rose in five steps. Upon these 
benches sat men and women in a rainbow 
of hooded cloaks. 
The small man standing in the middle of the dais could have been no one other than 
the Draconis Baron. He wore a cloak of red trimmed in gold. He extended a gloved hand 
toward us and filled the room with a voice that took on a resonance Id not have thought 
possible from having heard him earlier. 
Behold three who were, just weeks ago, made Minor Fledglings in Oriosa. In Alcida 
they were given instruction, and since then they have been in service to the world. The 
first has slain two sullanciri, a feat unequaled in the annals of heroism. 
The second has 
slain a giant, crushing it in three blows. And the third has confronted sullanciri and has 
proved to be an archer of such skill that Loquelves fashioned for him a bow of 
silverwood. Their selfless efforts have brought great glory upon us. 
The assembled Knights applauded politely. Their cloaks had enough variation to mark 
them as coming from different nations. Some had hems trimmed in gibberer fur. Others 
sported dangling temeryx feathers of white, and at least one hood was made of a vylaen 
pelt. That they applauded us at all struck me as odd, for these were men and women 
who, by the very virtue of their being at Fortress Draconis, had likely seen and done 
more than we would ever do. As with Cavarres earlier praise, I did not think what I had 
done was worthy of such acclaim. 
Nay seemed to be similarly uncomfortable, but Leigh beamed proudly. I couldnt fault 
him for thathed eliminated 
half of Chytrines leadership cadre, which was a 
momentous 
accomplishment. There was no doubting he was a hero and the acclaim 
seemed to infuse back into him some of the life the sword had drained. 
As the acting Flock Lord for the precinct of Fortress Draconis, I ask if there is anyone 
who would speak. 
A man stepped forward in the first rank wearing a scarlet cloak trimmed in black; the 
quilted feathers on his cloak were likewise outlined in black. Until he spoke I couldnt 
recognize him, but his voice permitted no mistake. 
Prince Augustus cleared his throat. I have witnessed the actions of these three. They 
have acquitted themselves far better 
than their youth or rank would suggest possible. It 
is my thought that elevation to the rank of Wing is in order. 
Thank you, Grand Black Phoenix. Cavarre slowly turned and looked around the 
room. Is there anyone who would speak against this elevation? 
The other Knights remained silent. 
The acting Flock Lord came around to look at us again. It is my pleasure to welcome 
you to the rank of Wing. At his signal three other Knights moved from their places and 
stood in a line behind him. Each one bore a folded cloak. The Flock Lord beckoned us 
forward, and as we stepped toward the stairs, the clasps on our cloaks failed, leaving 
them behind. Naked, we climbed the stairs in the order of our initial recognition. 
The new cloaks, which were brown except for a red course of feathers above the 
yellow course wed worn before, were draped over our shoulders. Cavarre stood before 
each of us and reached up to fasten our clasps. Once that was done, he retreated a step 
and bowed his head to us. 
He spoke in a solemn voice that filled the amphitheatre easily. In the course of your 
time here at Fortress Draconis, you will be tutored in that which you must know to fulfill 
the duties and shoulder the responsibilities of your new rank. It should make you proud 
to know that seldom has any one person reached this rank this swiftly. Never before, to

my knowledge, has a trio of Knights risen this far, this fast. On the eve of the battles we 
will face here, we consider this a most fortuitous omen. 
After our elevationan event that surprised and pleased meI got some food, 
returned to my room alone, and promptly fell asleep. While Id certainly slept onboard 
the ships and caught as much rest as I could on the road, there was no denying I was 
exhausted. The sun was just setting as I crawled into my bed, and it was long past dawn 
when I awakened. 
I got dressed from the clothes in my wardrobewhich did not include the ragged 
garments Id worn since we left Yslin. Someone had filled my wardrobe with tunics and 
trousers that fit pretty well and were dyed Oriosan green. I slipped the boot knife Nay 
had given me into the top of my right boot. 
I wandered down into the dining hall and found it fairly full. As Cavarre had explained 
the day before, the garrison troops ate in shifts, so food was always available. I grabbed 
a bowl of thick stew and half a round of bread, then retreated to an empty side table to 
eat. I was fairly certain that I could have joined any of the groups of men and women 
seated elsewhere, but I kept my distance on purpose. 
Despite the praises sung of us in the Phoenix Knight assembly, 
I knew the reality of 
the world. The men and women serving here had bonded through their experiences. 
They trained together and every day were willing to fight and even die to defend the 
fortress. Their sacrifices were greater than any I had made. I was just a youth off on an 
adventure, and to be touted as somehow their equal or superior was simply wrong. 
Part of me wanted very much to join them, and I took great solace in the warm 
laughter that echoed throughout the room. Brags were shouted from one table to the 
next, with individual challenging individual and unit challenging unit. Wagers were 
offered and taken concerning the numbers of enemy each would slay, the number of 
prisoners to be taken, the number of citations to be won, the honors that would be 
awarded, and even the number of stitches to sew up wounds. The warriors gathered 
there exuded a buoyant confidence that would do more to defend Fortress Draconis than 
walls and weapons. 
I finished my breakfast quickly, cleared away my bowl and crumbshaving pitched 
the last piece of bread to one of the various curs slinking about. I began to wander 
around and inquire if anyone had seen Nay. The first few folks I asked had not, but one 
of the Guards who had been with us on the ship said hed seen him in the fortresss 
armory. 
The armory itself wasnt in the tower, but a walled and covered walkway connected 
the two buildings. Even before I reached the building I could smell the smoke from the 
forges and feel the heat. As I climbed the steps to the entrance, the clangor of smiths at 
work vibrated through me, sounding as pure and deadly as the thunder of war drums. 
My eyes watered as I paused in the entrance. Directly before 
me, glowing red with a 
sweaty sheen, Nay hammered a length of yellow-orange steel. Sparks shot down with 
each blow, and each blow came in a cadence that was regular and insistent. It didnt 
race, nor did it plod along, but matched the heartbeat of a man hard at work. 
The steel dulled to a deep red, so Nay thrust it back into the forge. Two apprentices 
worked the bellows, sprouting bright yellow flames from the hot coals. Nay swiped at his 
swpatv hrow with his eloved left hand, then he reached into a pocket of his leather apron 
and pulled out the stone that was Tsamoc. He stared intently at the stone, and the faint 
hint of a glow started from within it. This brought a smile to his face. He returned the 
stone to his pocket, picked up his tongs again, and rescued the swordblade from the 
coals. He eyed it carefully, 
then began to pound on it again. 
So intent was he on his work that he did not notice me not that he had much of a 
chance to do so since I must just have been a silhouette in the doorway. I chose not to

disturb him and moved on. A smile grew on my face as I realized Nay had returned to 
what he did and what he was before his Moon Month, as a way to get back in touch with 
reality. I guessed he was as confused about our situation as I was, and I was happy he 
found a way to deal with the problem. 
I decided to do the same thing, and since I spent most of my spare time with Leigh in 
the past, I searched him out. 
One aspect of Fortress Draconis that I did not describe previously was the series of 
gardens that ringed the western half of the towers base. Two of the five were 
conventional gardens, with herbs and vegetables and flowers. The one near the armory 
did have a couple of apple trees, but the apples were just shy of ripe. 
Big, thick hedges split the gardens one from another. I moved around the circuit, 
passing through a wrought-iron gate into the second garden. White stones had been 
sown over the ground and raked to a smoothness that almost made the place seem 
covered in snow. Two trees, one by the outer wall and the other kitty-corner back by the 
tower offered some shade, but did not overshadow much of the garden. Flat stones 
provided a meandering walkway that linked this gate with the next and with a doorway 
into the tower. A dry river of stones split the white expanse, with a stone bridge arching 
over it. Elsewhere bigger stones stood like islands in a white ocean. 
Here I found Leigh, sitting cross-legged on the bridges railing. He wore only a loose 
robe and some silk pantsno boots, nothing else. Nowhere could I see Temmer. My 
friend just sat there, staring down at the dry streambed with dark-rimmed eyes, as if he 
could see water swirling through it. 
I tried tO rlnP tVlP rrit-  
*!.. I__Li j had done so, until I turned and saw Leigh looking at me. 
Sorry. I didnt want to disturb you. 
He shook his head. You didnt. I was just thinking. Thinking 
a lot. About things. 
About how things have been going. His voice carried a sadness to it that made my heart 
ache. Any interesting conclusions? 
Leigh smiled carefully. I feel very much at peace here. I dont know if you can feel it, 
too, but I feel secure. Before there was this oppressive air around me. Unless I had 
Temmer in hand, I didnt feel safe. 
I feel the peace here, yes. I stepped from stone to stone in my slow approach to the 
bridge. I think its good you dont have the sword with you. 
So do I, but there is a cost. He held his right hand out, palm open, parallel to the 
ground. Little tremors shook it, like an old mans palsy. Even though I dont need it 
here, I still want it. I feel crippled without it. 
Its a fell thing, that sword. It does great things, but the price . . .I reached the 
bridge and leaned against the railing on which he sat. If only youd known when you 
found it. Leigh gave me a half smile and stared down at the stone-strewn gully. I did 
know, Tarrant, I did. When I saw it there, the way the skeletons hands clutched the hilt, 
I knew I shouldnt touch it. With one hand the skeleton pulled it to himself, but with the 
other he was pushing it away. I knew there was something wrong, something bad about 
it, but that didnt deter me. I was a child again, looking at something I knew wasnt 
mine, something I knew I shouldnt take, like it was a pie cooling on a window sill. Part 
of me knew Id be caught, that Id be punished, but I went ahead and took it anyway. 
I shook my head. But the story Resolute told, the bargain struck with the wielder, 
you didnt know that. The cost isnt worth the gain. 
Leigh laughed weakly, rocking back. But it is, Tarrant, it is worth it. When youve 
drawn Temmerand I pray to all the gods that you never doyou feel such power that 
you know nothing can stand against you. You know, as I did in Atval, .,,,,- nsmi 
will fall and vour friends will live. You are the arbiter of life and deathand in that

moment, for that time, Temmer is worth the future of pain. 
But what happened in the Ghost Marches . . . 
Yes, the woman protecting the little girl. Leigh closed his eyes and ran a hand over 
his mouth. I want you to know I would not have attacked the child. I knew she was no 
threat. I . . . the mother had a knife and I saw it ... There was no time to think, I just 
struck and then she was dead and the child started crying. 
He looked over at me for a second, sucking on his lower lip. I owe you thanks for 
stopping me, for getting me down. Twice youve risked Temmers wrath to save me. I 
couldnt have a better friend. 
I gave him a quick grin. Weve been friends forever, Leigh. No reason to let a magick 
sword come between us. I just dont want you getting hurt. 
Me? Hurt? He shrugged. Part of the bargain with the sword. 
Yes, but there are ways to be hurt and ways to be hurt. His blue eyes narrowed. 
What are you talking about? I folded my arms over my chest. The Ghost Marches 
thing I was talking about wasnt the woman and the child. What I was talking about was 
the hoargoun. You stood there, waiting for it to crush you. 
Leighs voice sank to a whisper. You think I wanted to die. 
I dont know what you were thinking, Leigh, but I know what I want you to think. I 
reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. I want you to think that there are other 
ways to beat Temmer than dying. 
Sure, never draw it again. Never go into battle again. That will beat it. He pointed 
off to the east with his left hand. Of course, that would let them win. It might cost you 
and Nay and my father your lives, but Id win. Id be alive to savor my victory for the 
rest of time. 
Right, fine, that solution doesnt work, but there are others. 
Well think of them. 
Will we, Tarrant? Leigh looked through me. While Ive been sitting here, Ive come 
up with a piece of a rhyme. Want to hear it? 
Please. I smiled and lowered my hand. If Leigh was feeling 
good enough to be 
coming up with poetry, I knew things werent totally lost. What is it? 
Its only a piece, but here it is: Weak heart faints When trouble rises. 
Brave heart soars, Steals all the prizes. 
False heart, it Shrinks small in peace And finds in Fear no surcease. 
He smiled at me. What do you think? 
More serious than most of your other poems, Leigh. I sighed and tried to see past 
his hollow-eyed visage to the friend Id grown up with. We will find another solution to 
the Temmer problem. 
Of course we will, Hawkins. Leigh nodded slowly. Count on it. 
He returned to staring at the dry river and I left him alone. To my mind came 
Resolutes comment about Leigh, that he was one of the walking dead. It wasnt so much 
that hed given up on life as he was trapped by it. Given a choice he would have thrown 
away the sword, but that would let Chytrine live. Trapped between saving himself and 
the world, Leighs spirit was being pounded into gravel. 
I moved through the next garden, which featured steaming pools of water and a 
variety of plants that thrived in hot, moist areas. From there I came into a sunken area 
that had been flooded. Rocks created islands and little wooden bridges and walkways 
connected them. The clear water in the pools below permitted crystal views of the fish 
swimming lazily along. I recognized none of them, but the fish I knew had come from 
local lakes and rivers, so tended to be sleek and powerful. These fish had fancy fins and 
swam slowly, though their gold scales did glint brightly. 
Watching them promoted a sense of peace, and I took it as a bad sign that Leigh was 
spending his time in the barren garden instead of this one full of life. The old Leigh

would have been here, sitting on the walkways, dangling his toes like fat little worms in 
the water. Hed have named each of the fish, would have made up vast stories about 
them and their relationships 
with each other. He would have tempted them with his toes 
and rewarded any quick enough to nip him with a nickname and a verse in its honor. 
You look so pensive, Hawkins. 
I turned and forced a smile on my face. Seethe. I didnt hear you come up. 
She winked at me with a gold eye. Have to watch us Vorquelves all the time. Weve 
learned to be sneaky. 
They say thats why Chytrine doesnt sleep whole nights through. 
Oh, very good. She gave me a little laugh, which nibbled away at the chill Id felt in 
Leighs presence. Her golden eyes burned with life, and her smile shared it with me. As 
much as Leigh might have been glad to have me as a friend, more so was I glad to have 
her. 
Shed gathered her long black hair into a single thick braid that snaked over her right 
shoulder. She played with the end of it in both hands. Seethe, too, wore a silken robe, 
but this one was blue and trimmed in black, matching the long skirt she had on. Like 
Leigh, she was barefoot. 
I frowned. Did I miss a sign that said boots werent allowed 
in the gardens? 
No, I dont think so, Hawkins. She smiled and playfully flicked her braid in my 
direction. I think its just that you like to be prepared for emergencies. You think ahead 
like that. You have a knife, I have none. You have boots, I have none. In the back of 
your mind you have worries; right now I have none. 
None? I blinked my eyes. No worries at all? 
Seethe wrinkled her nose and shrugged slightly. Well, perhaps a few, but they are 
packed away in my room for the moment. She leaned against the walkwav elbows on it. 
Well, therj is one worry that I didnt pack away, and its this: I worry that I never 
expressed my gratitude to you for staying with me as we sailed past Vorquellyn. 
It was no problem. 
Not that you would say if it had been, would you, Hawkins? 
She smiled at me, then 
turned away and looked down at the fish. I had seen Vorquellyn before, you know. 
Ages ago, well before you were born and perhaps even before your parents 
were born. 
I was with a number of other Vorquelves Resolute was there; hes the only one you 
knowin a small boat. We were heading for the Ghost Marches, to go north and try to 
kill Chytrine. We were close but couldnt land. We knew it would be suicide and that 
insulated us from the pain and disappointment. What we were heading out to do would 
be the first step in liberating our homeland. 
This time, with a fleet and warriors, I knew we could have attacked. We could have 
driven the Aurolani forces from Vorquellyn. 
We could have saved it, we could have 
made it ours again, yet that was not the object of our expedition. 
She turned and looked up into my eyes, peering at me as if her gaze could see past 
my mask and even into my soul. Right then I wanted to hate everyone in the 
expedition. I knew why Resolute had withdrawn. I understood him as I never have 
before, his militancy, his insistence. I hated the fact that we were passing so close, yet 
would leave Vorquellyn behind, 
and I wanted to hate all men for not having taken 
action before now. 
You didnt let that happen. You were there with me. You took care of me. This trip 
was my second sailing from Vorquellyn 
and again a man saw me through it. Seethe 
straightened 
up and closed the distance between us. She leaned forward and I felt the 
feather-light brush of her breath on my face a second before she kissed me. 
I had kissed and been kissed before, but this kiss was different
and not just because 
Seethe was a Vorquelf. Her kiss came light and slow. For a moment I was free to wonder

if our lips had actually touched, but the tingle running through my body confirmed they 
had. She kissed me again, then, a bit more insistently, and I slipped my arms around 
her. I drew her to me and we kissed a third time. 
I have never forgotten the warm press of her body against mine, the way her hands 
held my face, the taste of her lips and the warmth of her breath. Her taut body fit 
perfectly within my arms. I clung to her fiercely and she to me, our shared experience on 
the expedition being more important in that moment than all the differences that might 
have separated us. Arm in arm, stealing kisses as we went, we retreated from the garden 
and secreted ourselves away in the room shed been given. Morning bled into afternoon 
and then evening as we lay together, touching, whispering, giggling at the things lovers 
find funny. We drank little and ate less, but neither of us noticed time passing or the lack 
of food. We satisfied each other in warm and gentle, steaming and passionate ways that 
made physical hunger irrelevant. 
As night fell, with her head on my chest, I drew the sheets up around her shoulders 
and stroked her now unbound hair. I leaned down and kissed her on the crown. Seethe, 
I need to ask you something. 
Yes? 
How do we ... The others will notice that you and I . . . What do we tell . . . ? 
She kissed me on the chest, then rolled over onto her belly and smiled at me. Her 
gold eyes glowed with a muted reflection 
of the sinking suns light. Are you worried 
that someone might gossip about our liaison? That my reputation will be tarnished? 
I blushed. I dont want anyone to hurt you. Her throaty laugh warmed me, as did 
the quick kiss with which she punctuated it. Fear not, my gallant one, for Vorquelves 
are known for being different. The other elves here will see our dalliance as a sign of my 
immaturity, a tragic remnant of my being unhomed. Your peoplethose who are 
hopelessly jealous of you and driven to cruelty because of it will know that we have 
found in each other strength and peace. Thus they will envy us, but they will also 
understand. I raised an eyebrow. Ummm, I think youre thinking far better of men than 
I do. 
Ah, but you inspire confidence in me for your people, Tarrant. She half-lidded her 
eyes, then rested her chin on my chest. It doesnt matter what they say. We cant be 
hurt unless 
we let ourselves be hurt. Here, with you, I am beyond hurting and that is all 
that matters. Other elves avoid unions with men because fleeting pleasure scares them. 
It doesnt me and shouldnt you. Right now we need each other, and that is enough 
reason to be together. Remember that always, no matter 
what happens, and no one will 
be able to hurt you again. 
As far north as Fortress Draconis is, the autumn mornings start crisp, making me 
even more reluctant to slip from a warm bed. As it was no one said anything to me 
about my liaison with Seetheaside from congratulating me. I gathered, from a 
comment Seethe made, that Lord Norrington had spoken 
to her about our involvement. 
I ended up being flattered by the fact that he never spoke to me about itwhich I took 
as an indication of his trust in my judgment. 
Leigh did kid me about it a bit, but that was fine, too, since it heralded a return of the 
Leigh Id known. Shes a fine catch, Hawkins. Id have cast my eye in her direction too, 
if I werent set to marry a princess. But you shouldnt feel disappointed 
in your choice 
because of that. 
Who me? No. I know that courting someone who has a century on you is a rare art. 
An acquired taste, really, and one Im not sure I want to acquire. 
I smiled. But women are like wine, getting better with age . . 
Ah, but young vintages have their charms, too. Leigh gave me a smile that emerged 
free of the air of doom that had settled over him. Once we lift the siege here and

destroy Chytrine, I think I will formally court Ryhope. Scrainwood says he favors me in 
that regard. 
With friends like that at court, then . . . Leighs eyes sharpened and his voice shrank 
to a whisper. I know there is no love lost between you. Hes spoken badly of you, so 
Ive got his full measure, my friend. Have no doubt of that. Still, using a bridgeno 
matter how weakto cross a river beats getting wet. 
I had to allow as how that was true, though I still hitched a bit when I saw 
Scrainwood and Leigh walking together along battlements or sharing a laugh over a 
meal. The only good thing I could see from their conspiracy to marry Leigh off to 
Ryhope was that it gave Leigh something to think about. He was very good at assuming 
roles and postures that would get him what he wanted, and paying court to Scrainwood 
distracted 
him from Temmer and the problems that came with it. It struck me that 
perhaps Leighs ability to shift his personality 
to suit a given situation was the reason the 
sword was able to exert as much control as it could over him. While that idea had some 
appeal for me, the appeal was but a thin layer of ice over a very deep, dark lake. The 
only solution to the problem was for Leigh to become more rigid, more mature, stronger 
in mind and soul. That would destroy the Leigh Id known, but so would the sword. 
I diverted myself from such dire thoughts by focusing on the situation at the fortress. 
I kept watches with the men and women of the Seventh Oriosan Guards. Units from the 
various nations served at Fortress Draconis for a one year term, at which time they 
rotated home. It wasnt then as it became, with permanent garrison units being 
reinforced piecemeal with raw recruits or meckansh. Things were not yet that 
desperate, 
so the warriors I served with had not yet developed the grim, fatalistic sense 
that came to dominate Fortress Draconis. Occasionally Dothan Cavarre would pull me 
aside and have me join him, Lord Norrington, and Princes Augustus and Kirill in 
inspections of various parts of the fortress. By and large the inspections were purely 
routine, and I was very ;mnroccor) with the stockrjile of food and weapons in the 
ware-houses. Each nation contributed to the fortresss support and the result was enough 
supplies to last a dozen years. 
Our most interesting excursion came three days after our arrival. The Draconis Baron 
sent a message telling me to armor 
up and arm myself with a dagger or two, then to 
meet him in the outer town. I did as requested, adding one of the captured gibberer 
longknives to my belt so I could have something 
a bit more substantial than a dagger. I 
came to the appointed house and entered, discovering piles of dirt packing it from floor 
to rafters save for a set of stairs leading down into the ground. At the base of the stairs I 
found Cavarre, Lord Norrington, Prince Augustus, Prince Kirill, and Faryaah-Tse Kimp. 
All of them were armored and armed, with the ur-Zrethis weapons a pair of nasty spikes 
growing out of her right wrist and extending nearly two feet beyond her hand. Even 
Cavarre wore quilted silk armor with a mail surcoat over it and had a pair of daggers 
with him, so I knew some danger was expected. 
Cavarre led us out and down through a reinforced tunnel that ran to the northeast. 
Lanterns hung from rafters to provide 
light, though seeing where I was going was 
difficult because 
I was last in line and the tunnel was low enough that I had to 
constantly stoop or bump my head. Those in front of me eclipsed the light. Because of 
the tunnels tight confines I realized the only swordwork Id have managed would have 
been thrusting, so bringing the longknife was the better way to go- 
The tunnel broadened into a small opening off which three more tunnels extended. As 
we moved into the opening, a dozen urZrethi marched past us, hauling sacks of dirt 
strapped to their backs. Unlike Faryaah-Tse, they were duller colors, the red of earth, the 
grey of ash, and black of coal. Their hands ended in shovel-like blades, while their eyes 
and ears had become 
oversized. They paid us no mind as they went on their way,

presumably to dump their dirt and return to dig more. Cavarre dropped into a crouch 
and pointed at the tunnels. 
We are now just beyond our walls, perhaps twenty feet 
down. We have crews digging all the time, working to find the tunnels the Aurolani 
sappers are creating to take down our walls. We shore up our tunnels, of course, so we 
wont do their work for them, then we hunt the Aurolani. The reason for the larger ears 
on the urZrethi diggers is so they can hear sappers and dig toward them. I was sent 
word that they were close to a tunnel to the east here, and that they expected to break 
through this morning. I thought you might like to observe. 
He raised a finger to his lips, then pointed down the central 
tunnel, the one leading 
almost directly east. Faryaah-Tse went first, followed by Augustus, Lord Norrington, and 
Kirill. I came next and Cavarre dropped into line behind me. That struck me as odd until 
I recalled that he knew little or nothing about combat. If any of the Aurolani did get into 
our tunnel, theyd be hard-pressed to reach him, which was actually a good thing as far 
as the leadership of the fortress was concerned. 
We passed through a couple of zigs and zags in the tunnel, then descended through a 
steep dip and back up. The dip served as a flood-stop, since the next section of tunnel 
was lower than the first, while the cutbacks were designed to slow attackers and give 
defenders time to hold them off. It also struck me that defenders further back could 
probably collapse the tunnel fairly easily, preventing entry into the fortress. 
The air in the tunnel tasted foul and even the lanterns seemed dimmer. Ive never 
been one to fear small, enclosed spaces, but scraping my back along the roof of a tunnel 
did begin to wear on me. Poor Cavarre reaped the reward for my discomfort, as bits and 
pieces of dirt rained on his head, but he didnt complain. 
At the far end of the tunneland I have no idea how far out we werewe stopped at 
the rear of an urZrethi formation. The urZrethi arrayed before us had the same shape as 
the diggers, but that began to change. Bumps and hard edges rose through their flesh, 
as if it were wet cloth being pulled taut over armor. Turtle-shell plates came to cover 
them; hooks and spurs grew on shoulders, elbows, and wrists. Their ears shrank away 
to nothing while their eye-sockets deepened. Their faces projected muzzles forward, with 
a hard bony ridge running the length of them. The snout tapered, making it not as 
blocky as that of a gibberer, and giving them more reach. Some grew fangs or tusks, 
others drew back lips to reveal ranks of serrated teeth. Their hands curled down into at 
least one spike, usually short and very stout. Many transformed their off hand into a 
two-fingered, one-thumbed grasping tool with big claws that could hit hard as a fist, or 
reach into a chest and pluck out organs. Their legs thickened and shrank as their upper 
bodies expanded and their arms bulked with muscle. 
In less than a minute theyd gone from diggers to warriors perfectly suited to fighting 
in the enclosed tunnels. They couldnt run fast, but they wouldnt need to. The combat 
would all be close and nasty, full of biting, tearing, and stabbing. 
As quietly as possible I drew my longknife, then, almost as an afterthought, I shucked 
off my left glove and tucked it down inside my jerkin. 
Cavarre watched me do that for a moment, then nodded. Yes, in the dark, touch will 
count for more than any other sense. Very good, Hawkins. 
If it has fur, I can stab it. 
Ahead of us, near the wall of the tunnel, Faryaah-Tse shone like a beacon compared 
to the other urZrethi. She maintained the shape she had taken when she joined us, 
which left her looking very childlike and innocent. She raised her arms and crossed 
them, then pulled them apart sharply. 
Two diggers at the front of the tunnel stabbed their hands deep into the dirt and 
clawed it back. A little hole opened up, but before they could expand on it, the urZrethi 
warriors surged forward, blasting through with their shoulders. For Boragul, shouted

one, and a half-dozen voices answered, Varagul for Victory. Other war cries I could not 
understand, though the guttural pulsing of kang vatt ki-det really needed no 
translation. Through the wall and into the enemy tunnel they poured, with snarls and 
snaps and howls greeting them. Of that combat there was not much to see, as swaying 
lanterns only gave me occasional glimpses of the action. I remember most the scent, the 
thick, musky odor of gibberers and the sweet, sharp tang of blood. I remember the 
sounds as well: the snarls evaporating into whimpers, the wet splash of blood spurting 
rhythmically, the crunch of bones breaking, the grunt of someone having the breath 
driven from him, and the dying sighs of creatures as they went down with crushed 
skulls. 
I shifted to the right side of the tunnel and moved to the fore, but found nothing to 
do. We had been brought along as observers, and the urZrethi meant for us to do just 
that. I suspected the reason we had been invited along was so we could see how well the 
urZrethi foughtas if that could dispel any concerns we might have over them because 
of the Man-urZrethi War fought centuries before. But I had no reservations 
to begin 
with, and all this display managed to do was make me wonder how men managed to 
fight the urZrethi to a standstill. 
The battle ended quickly. Wed entered the tunnel behind the digging party and, 
though they were armed, the tight confines 
gave them little room to fight. The urZrethi 
slaughtered them with the loss of only two of their own. No one bothered to count 
Aurolani bodies, but both vylaens and gibberers had been slain. Judging by the number 
of longknives hauled back, at least two dozen of the enemy had died. 
The urZrethi sent a half-dozen people back up the tunnel with rope. This they 
fastened to support beams in the Aurolani 
tunnel. When they got back to our tunnel, 
the urZrethi formed a line and pulled on the ropes, tugging away the posts and beams to 
collapse the tunnel. A great rush of air and dust blew back into our tunnel and I coughed 
for a bit while blinking 
my eyes to clear them. 
Up above uswell east of the fortressa snakelike track of sunken turf would mark 
the Aurolani graves. 
The Draconis Baron led us all back to the surface and we looked a frightful mess. Dust 
caked us all over, save for the twin tear tracks down our faces. Augustus spat out a fair 
amount of dirt, then joined me at a cistern in the street, where I dunked my head and 
washed it off. 
I relished the feel of water dripping down my neck and over my spine. It felt good to 
be back out of the tunnel, back in the cool, fresh air. I wanted nothing so much as to run 
off and relax in one of the steaming pools in the Crown Tower, but I remained there, 
watching Cavarre and the urZrethi. 
The diminutive Baron greeted each of the urZrethi as they exited the house. He 
thanked them and appeared to be addressing 
each by name. That struck me as 
remarkable because of how they had shifted shape. Still, if he had a way to recognize 
them, if he was able to speak to each of them as he had each of us when we arrived, 
that would explain why the garrison 
felt confidence in his leadership despite his youth 
and martial inexperience. 
I walked over to Faryaah-Tse and dropped to a knee beside her. What will you do for 
a memorial for the two who died? 
She shook her head. They were buried where they fell. That is the fate of warriors, to 
be returned to the earth where they died, or as close to it as possible. Because we shift 
shape, and remain changed when we die, we do not have the cultural attachment to 
seeing the dead that men seem to. We will simply 
go off, eat a meal, share stories and 
remember, so we can tell their kin how they passed. 
A memorial meal, thats a good idea. I nodded. Men do that.

It is also vital for us. She looked at me with black eyes. Shifting is not easy for us. 
It tires us out and strains our bodies. We need to eat to regain our strength so we can 
change back. If we could not, we would be stuck like this. 
Oh. I stood as the bandy-legged urZrethi troop began walking past. Some actually 
leaned forward on their hands to walk on all fours, while most just struggled along on 
two. I shant keep you, then. It is good to see you up and about. 
And it is good to be up and about. She gave me a quick smile. Find me later; I 
have something for youa relic of our adventures that you might find useful. Until then, 
be well. 
And you. 
I watched her go and wondered what she was talking about. Before I could figure it 
out, I turned and found Lord Norrington approaching me. What did you think, Hawkins, 
of the fighting down there? 
Seemed to me to be like fighting in a grave. I didnt much care for it. 
Neither did I, but as a result of seeing it Im fairly certain the walls will stand until 
Chytrine batters them down. He laughed. It will be quite a while before that happens, 
though. Weve a long siege ahead of us. 
I nodded in agreement, not realizing how quickly the both of us would be proved 
wrong. 
Later that afternoon a great cry rose from the enemy camp. I was walking with Seethe 
in the outermost section of the city and quickly mounted the walls near the main gate. 
Because of the press of people, the closest we got to them was a hundred yards. Even 
so, we did have a decent view of what was going on and quickly understood why the 
Aurolani host was elated. 
Chytrine had arrived. 
Six magnificent drearbeasts pulled her gilded carriage, with vylaens serving as 
coachmen and footmen. The bulbous carriage 
had been shaped like a dragon in white, 
with its head and long neck extending out over the fearsome team drawing it. The wings 
flowed back to form the roof and the tail sailed behind to counterbalance the head. All 
four paws clutched axles and windows had been cut in the side, but curtains hid her 
from curious gazes. Gold traced every scale and edge on the carriage, allowing the 
afternoon sun to sparkle off it the way it ripples off gentle sea swells. 
Above it all flew a white banner with the black image of a man wreathed in red, 
yellow, and orange dragonfire. Id seen that banner before, in some of the fortress 
murals, and knew it to be the banner beneath which Kirun had invaded the south. That 
she still used it even though hed been dead for centuries made me wonder if she was 
not so much interested in conquest as vengeance. Which, if true, made her more 
dangerous 
in my mind. 
Seethe shielded her eyes against the glare. So there she is. Things will begin soon, I 
expect. 
I agree, but I think we can hold. I pointed out at the entourage that had traveled 
with her. She didnt bring that much in the way of troops. Shes not got enough to take 
this fortress. 
I hope youre right, and I hope Kedyn sees no reason to test your faith in him. 
Part of the company that came with Chytrine split off and moved forward, drawing 
itself up near a pyramidal stack of round stone balls. Wed seen the stones there for 
days, but they were too far back and too light to be of much use with the siege 
machinery the troops had built. Two drearbeasts hauled a long, narrow, 
canvas-shrouded cart into position beside 
the stones, then vylaens shouted at gibberers 
as they turned it around and started off-loading barrels from one of the wagons. 
A vylaen stripped the canvas off the cart with an air of grave solemnity that prompted

a tittering from the defenders. What we saw was a stout cart bearing a long bronze tube 
with a rounded end at the back, which seemed scarcely worth the care the vylaen 
seemed to lavish upon it. The entire cylinder had been worked with a dragon-scale 
pattern and the mouth of the thing had a big dragons head on it, with the mouth open. 
It didnt look beautiful or terrifying, and none of us had any idea what it was. 
Whats this now? Cavarre shouldered his way in between Seethe and me. What has 
she brought us? 
I shrugged. I dont know. Could she keep the fragment of the DragonCrown in 
there? 
Perhaps its a cup for a dragon. Seethe frowned. Ive not seen its like before. 
Cavarre said nothing and just stared intently at it. 
A group of vylaens filled buckets with a black powder, which they poured into the 
dragons mouth. Another one pushed a long stick with a thick end into the dragons 
throat, packing the powder down in there. Finally four gibberers lifted one of the stone 
balls and rolled it into the tube, but I gathered 
they didnt do such a good job because 
two vylaens used the packing stick to force it down further. 
Back up the hill a door opened in the side of the carriage and Chytrine emerged. 
Being as how she was a mile or so distant, making her out was tough, but she had 
bright gold hair that seemed to flow down to mid-back. She wore boots and a skirt anH 
a Kl/->uco ~J - 
a hundred years old, she didnt show any signs of her age in how she stood or 
walked. In many ways she seemed as ageless as Seethe, and that scared me a little. 
Chytrine walked forward to the metal dragon and a vylaen handed her a torch that 
had been kindled in a nearby fire. She waved it back and forth, as if in a salute to the 
fortress. People standing along the wall, me included, waved back. Some added shouted 
epithets to our acknowledgment of her presence. 
The Aurolani troops started to shout 
back at us, but orders snapped by vylaens quieted them. 
Chytrine gently kissed the dragon-tubes tail with the torch, and the world changed 
forever. 
I saw a flash of fire from the dragons mouth and saw a billow of grey-white smoke 
shoot out, as if the dragon had vomited. Then, barely a heartbeat later, a loud boom 
shuddered 
through my chest. I felt it hit me, harder than a gust of wind, and vibrate its 
way through me. It was as if Id been slammed into a wall suddenly and fast, without 
having moved at all. 
Then the stone ball hit. It struck the wall above the gate, striking one of the merlons. 
The ball crushed the stone and itself shattered into thousands of deadly fragments. 
People standing there were reduced to a red mist. Arms and legs flew. Bodies, torn in 
half, linked only by entrails, toppled from the walls. Beyond them, in the streets below, 
stone chips blasted through people, pulverizing bone, laying flesh open. Rocks struck 
houses, breaking bricks, bursting through windows and cracking doors. 
Bile bubbled up in my throat and I reached a trembling hand out for Seethe. What is 
it? 
I dont know. 
Pressed against the battlements, leaning forward through a crennel to study it as best 
he could, Cavarre shook his head. That is the weapon that will lay waste to this fortress 
and, damn me, I dont think there is anything we can do to stop it. 
Tt was of considerable interest, but little comfort, to learn that I the dragonel was not 
magickal in nature. Had it been, our 1 sorcerers could have analyzed the spells that 
made it work and created counterspells. As it was, the range to the target made hitting it 
or the loaders, packers, and firebeasts with combat spells impossible. There was some 
thought that magickers might be able to affect the stone balls in flight, but not without

shards of them to provide links to them. 
The only bit of luck we had came because of Cavarres foresight. The streets and 
houses nearest the outer wall had long since been evacuated and many were already 
filled with dirt and debris. The dragonel shots that arced up over the walls plowed into 
these buildings, crushing facades and sending 
broken roof tiles whirling off in all 
directions, but the buildings themselves did not collapse. In essence they formed a wall 
inside the wall, limiting damage done deeper into the city, which prompted Chytrine to 
shoot further, with higher arcs, until she bounced a shot off the fortresss second wall. 
The dragonels rate of fire was low, but its accuracy made it devastating. A catapult or 
trebuchet would hurl stones and firepots and debris toward a target. Depending on the 
weight of the load being flung, it would fly over, or land short and often drift side to side 
a fair amount. But the dragonel directed 
shots and kept them on target. Two shots 
shattered the fortress gates. Subsequent shots pulverized the barricades we raised in 
their place. If the dragonels crew could see a target they could hit it, which made 
defending the fortress difficult and hazardous. 
The Aurolani forces rolled forward the siege towers theyd created. These were 
remarkable things, for they rose a good ten feet above the level of the outer wall. 
Gibberkin archers were placed atop the crenelated wooden towers. Wet canvas hung in 
great sheets over the towers themselves, so any napthalm would have a hard time 
sticking and catching the towers on fire. Walls in the front of the tower were hinged to 
open down into platforms that would allow the warriors inside 
to cross onto our 
battlements. 
Chytrine used the dragonel throughout that first night. The slow, steady, rhythmic 
booming deprived us all of sleep. Shot after shot slammed into buildings and walls. A 
careful series of shots opened breaches north and south of the main gate, giving the 
Aurolani host three avenues of attack, with the siege towers supplementing them. Her 
troops organized themselves 
through the night, dividing into three forces. 
By dawn we expected them to come. 
Dothan Cavarre impressed me with his determined calm despite the situation. He 
divided his forces into three commands, 
granting Lord Norrington the northern 
command while entrusting the southern command to Prince Augustus. He maintained 
control of the central command, which pitted him against the Aurolani force commanded 
by Chytrine. 
Throughout the night, workers tore down houses in the outer citys interior, creating 
channels into which the Aurolani hosts would flow. Where the siege towers seemed 
headed, he set up barricades so those troops would find themselves in blind alleys and 
trapped in killing zones. Siege machines on the second set of walls were prepared to 
target those areas. Troops were dispatched to wait in stronghouses until trumpeters 
could call them forth to their stations. 
The day dawned dim and cold, with low fog clinging to the landscape. I waited with 
Prince Kirill, Lord Norrington, Seethe, Leigh, and Nay on the battlements near the north 
wall breach. In front of us, five hundred yards off, the Aurolani legions arrayed 
themselves in hideous splendor. Banners rose at the head of their ranks, huge drums on 
wheels boomed and massive trumpets blared obscenely. Guttural war cries were 
snapped and snarled, making the enemy host sound like a pack of dogs fighting over 
scrapsand they didnt look or smell much better at that. 
To the head of their formation moved a creature I knew instantly to be a sullanciri. It 
had a huge mannish torso joined at the waist to the body of a gigantic horse. The upper 
body sprouted four arms, each of which had a serrated bony blade running the length of 
the forearms and two longer blades curving out three feet past its massive, clawed 
hands. The creatures beetling brows and saberlike fangs stole from it any sense of

civilization. Armor plates, as if inlays of turtle shell, covered it from head to tail. 
As impressive a sight as that was, what made it all the more eyecatching was the fact 
that he glowed white. All the urZrethi I had seen before had been the color of minerals 
or dirt, and this one was as well, but it was the color of iron that lay in a forge. The 
incandescent color dominated its core, but yellowed slightly in some cooler areas. I could 
feel no heat radiating off it, but I didnt want to get any closer to determine if that lack 
was only a function of range. 
My hand sought Seethes, or hers mineI dont remember after all this time. I gave 
her a brave smile. Well get through this, you know. 
One way or the other, I suspect. She reached over and plucked at the bowstring 
lying across my chest. If it comes down to it, save an arrow for me. Dont let them take 
me. 
I shook my head. They wont take you, I promise. I gave her a quick kiss, which she 
turned into a longer one. When we broke apart I blushed, and Prince Kirill turned away 
with a smile on his face. 
Leigh stared tight-eyed at the sullanciri and clasped Tem-mers hilt the way Seethe 
held my hand. Yes, my pet, I understand 
. . . That one is Vank-dae Ynl. He was exiled 
from Boragul for reasons of sedition. Chytrine made him the first of her Dark Lancers. 
He, I suppose, will be mine. 
Lord Norrington laid his hand on Leighs shoulder. Youre not the only one who will 
be fighting here today, my son. 
But Im the only one who can kill him. 
Leighs father smiled. If he joins the battle, then you are free to engage him, but 
killing gibberers will win us this battle. 
Wont be wanting for gibberers to kill. Nay shouldered his maul. Hawkins can 
feather vylaens and well kill the rest, Leigh and me. 
Leigh turned his head to look at Nay. Was that a rhyme? 
Might could be. Nay grinned slowly. Forge work doesnt demand a lot of thinking. 
Played with words for a bit. 
A smile broke on Leighs face. Very good, Nay, very good. A wager, then. A point 
per creature we killthe loser composes 
a poem to the glory of the winner. 
Done and done. 
Done and done. Leigh looked over at me. Wed invite you in on this, Hawkins, but 
youll claim every arrow-stuck body as your own. 
I shrugged. Just as well. I couldnt stand the two of you offering praises to me. Good 
luck. 
Leigh nodded. May Kedyns will be done. 
I glanced at Nay. For this contest are you sure you dont want to be using the sword 
youve been working on? 
He smiled, then glanced down at his feet. This would be a great battle for Tsamoc, 
but I yet need to put an edge on it. Next battle, after we beat them back here. 
Next battle, indeed. I nodded, then turned back to the Aurolani host. From the east 
blatted a harsh trumpet blast, and horns to the north and south repeated it. A 
thunderclap echoed from the east, then a stone ball hit on the gate towers, toppling men 
to the street below. The image of their falling, and of arrows spilling from their quivers, 
froze itself in my mind forever. 
Theyre coming. Lord Norrington drew his sword and pointed down at the catapults 
and trebuchets behind the wall. Ready your missiles; launch on my command. 
The northern Aurolani army started forward. All but the banners of their lead ranks 
disappeared as they dipped into the fog-bound lowlands. We watched the banners draw 
closer, as if they were held by the vanguard of a ghostly army. At the other side of the

river of fog the sullanciri waved its arms, urging troops on in a shrill, undulating voice 
that cracked and popped despite being almost too high to hear. 
Lord Norrington raised his sword, then slashed it down. Launch! 
The husky whisper of logs and stones being hurled through the air sounded 
impossibly low compared to the exhortations 
from the sullanciri. A hail of calthrops 
arced through the sky, jingling and jangling like a pouch full of coins. Even the harsh 
clack of catapult arms against stop-beams didnt have a martial quality, though the 
sounds of men cranking the arms back into place for another shot certainly 
did. 
As did the results of those first shots. 
I saw a log vanish in the fog, then bounce up once and flick off a bloody vapor before 
disappearing again. Banners snapped and fell in its path and screams erupted in its 
wake. A huge stone likewise rolled through the Aurolani formation, flinging broken 
bodies into the air behind it. Then the calthrops 
sowed more pain. 
The enemy cut loose with their siege machines, launching rocks and flights of arrows. 
I ducked down behind a merlon as arrows rattled off the wall around me. A tremor 
rippled through the wall as a stone struck solidly below me, but it rebounded and rolled 
into the fog to crush one of the enemy. It was a good thing, too, because we had 
underestimated the sullanciris craftiness. 
The banners had all been in the front of each company, but as they entered the fog, 
the warriors ran forward while the banners marched on slowly. As we shot into the thick 
of things, we did hit a few running warriors, but they were all from ranks further back. 
The lead gibberers had sprinted forward, 
boiling up out of the fog to come at us. 
I drew and shot, spitting a vylaen. Other archers shot as well, sinking arrows into 
running gibberers and vylaens, but they were coming too fast for us. They headed for 
the breach in the wall created by the dragonels shots. The rubble on the outside formed 
a perfect causeway. Clutching longknives in their teeth, they scrambled up on all fours, 
leaping over the bodies of arrow-stuck comrades or sliding them off into the fog. 
The Aurolani horde poured into the breach without hesitation. 
Unthinking beasts that 
they were, they did not wonder why we had no warriors rising to oppose them. They 
crested the ragged gap in the wall and started down the other side, which is when Lord 
Norrington gave the order for the ballistae to shoot. 
Lanyards were pulled, catches slipped, and torsion-bars twisted, propelling a broad, 
flat hammer against the ends of spears which had been mounted in racks of tubes. The 
spears hurled out and would normally have arced through the air to impale soldiers, but 
here found their targets before much of their force was spent. Many spears ripped 
through one gib-berer to become lodged in one behind him. Because the ballistae 
had 
been positioned at a variety of angles, they raked the breach with missiles, clearing the 
inside and top of the gap. 
Still they came, a motley rabble yipping and howling. Vylaens 
clapped off spells that 
washed the walls in brilliant green flame or splashed gouts of reeking acid on defenders. 
I nocked arrow after arrow and shot, knowing I could not miss a target in the roiling 
mass of creatures below. An arrow would hit, a gibberer would sink in the crush of his 
fellows, and the ranks would close again. 
When I found myself down to my last arrowa gift from Faryaah-TseI started 
harvesting others from the battlements and shooting the Aurolanis arrows back at them. 
Quickly enough I ran out of those missiles, so I slung my bow across my chest and drew 
my sword, which was just as well as the swarming gibberers had climbed up the walls 
and were near-ing us. 
Seethe stepped forward to engage them and was magnificent. 
Her surcoat of 
silver-washed mail glowed with what little sunlight made it through the clouds. She wore 
a winged helm that had a spike mounted in the crown and her black hair flew from

beneath the edges. Her sword slashed and stabbed with unerring accuracy. Gibberers 
reeled away from her clutching shattered faces, blood spurting from split arteries and 
gaping chest wounds. She spun and cut, whirled and lunged as if she could see all 
around her at once. Bodies toppled off the battlements 
near her and a bloody circle 
described the range of her lethal reach. 
Nay and Leigh had taken up positions below, defending one of the ballistae while its 
crew reloaded it. Nay fought with a savagery that challenged the gibberers in their own 
domain. His maul landed heavily, crushing limbs, denting heads, driving 
armor back 
through fur and flesh. Rents opened in his mail and in the padded leather jerkin beneath 
it, but no gibberer 
got a chance to press a deadly attack. Beasts that got close enough 
were hideously wounded, whether by a jab with the spike, a poke with the butt-cap, or a 
bone-shattering strike from the mauls heavy end. 
While everyone in that place fought valiantly, there was no equal to Leigh. As if 
inspired by the sullanciri, Leigh and Tem-mer glowed gold and I did feel a heat coming 
from the blade. Gibberer flesh sizzled as Leigh lopped off limbs and popped heads from 
bodies. One cut would be enough to send any of the Aurolani soldiers to the ground, but 
Leigh was so quick that he could get in two or sometimes three cuts on a body before it 
fell. Blood stained Temmer for only a second before combusting into a ghastly choking 
cloud. Leigh laughed aloud, beckoning gibberers forward, nattering at them about his 
contest 
with Nay, beseeching them to come to him and die, which many of them did. 
Down below us, the Aurolani warriors flowed into a corridor 
constricted by buildings 
and piles of rubble. Archers, both elven and human, shot at them from upper-story 
windows. Okrans spearmen defended piles of rubble, jabbing and poking 
and stabbing 
the gibberers that tried to break past. Elsewhere, 
further down the corridor, Oriosan 
Guards armed with sword and ax fought fiercely. Grudgingly men gave ground and the 
Aurolani host pressed forward in a thick stream of bodies. 
Fighting raged everywhere and I was forced to do some serious cutting. Gibberers 
came up over the wall and I slashed at them. I traded blows with one, then dodged 
aside, letting his lunge at me carry him off the rampart. Another gibberers cut sliced me 
just above the right knee, but I gutted him and pitched his body back onto the ground 
below. 
Trumpets blared outside the walls and the last of the Aurolani 
forces started to move 
forward. One of our trumpeters blew a blast announcing that fact. I spared a glance in 
toward the advancing troops, but couldnt see the sullanciri. An immediate 
chill sank 
into my guts and the happy yips of the gibberers below told me where it was. 
The sullanciri leaped from the depths of the fog to the top of the breach, its hooves 
scattering rocks that felled gibberer and man alike. Leigh, whose magickal blade had 
scythed down countless gibberers, had hacked a swath in the enemy formation 
and 
through it the Dark Lancer launched itself. The gibberers 
retreated at the sullanciris 
shrill command, opening an arena around the paired combatants. Raising all four of its 
arms, the Aurolani leader shrieked a challenge. 
A low laugh rolled from Leighs throat. His blade trailed smoke and hung loosely from 
his right hand. Leigh moved easily, almost clumsily, as if he were drunk, and casually 
waved the sullanciri forward with his left hand. Though his mask hid his expression, the 
light in his eyes blazed wildly. 
The sullanciri charged, slashing at Leigh with the blades on its right arms. Leigh 
ducked beneath the upper blades, then swung his blade low and to the left as he moved 
in that direction. 
His parry caught the lower blades with the sound of steel ringing on 
steel, then Leigh leaped into the air, tucking his legs beneath him and hopping over the 
Dark Lancers lower arm. Temmer came up and around in a blazing golden arc that 
swept through the sullancirfs low right wrist, and Leigh bounced off to his left.

The blade-bearing fist rolled into the gibberer ranks, causing 
the first one it touched 
to burst into flame. Molten metal dripped from the stump, bubbling up the pools of 
blood into which it fell. The Dark Lancer screamed in pain and spun to face Leigh. My 
friend, in turn, flicked his blade toward the Aurolani horde, spattering them with their 
leaders incendiary blood. 
Hugging the wounded limb to its chest, the sullanciri again came at Leigh. It slashed 
at the man with the upper right arm, making the cut a diagonal one that should have 
sundered Leigh from left shoulder to right hip, but Leigh danced back out of range 
easily, then darted forward. He lunged up with Temmer, driving the point into the Dark 
Lancers side. Molten blood gushed. The sullanciri squealed, then struck. 
It backhanded Leigh with its lower right arm, catching him in the ribs below his 
sword-arm and spinning him back toward the breach. Leigh stumbled and fell, but did 
not lose his grip on Temmer. He clutched at his right side with his left hand and I could 
see a cough wrack him with pain. He was far enough away that I couldnt tell if there 
was blood on his lips, but I knew he was hurt more seriously than ever before. 
The sullanciri keened triumphantly, raising its three good arms. It slowly stalked 
forward and looked around, daring any of us to interfere. Men shrank from its hot gaze, 
then its eyes met mine. 
In mine, it could see my soul. 
In its, I could see it had none. 
Casting aside my blade, I brought my bow to hand and nocked that last arrow. I held 
the sullanciris gaze as I drew my silverwood bow. I stared at it past the broadhead and 
aimed for its chest. It smiled at me mockingly, working its jaw to show me how it would 
eat my heart when it was through with Leigh. I shook my head ever so slightly in reply, 
then let fly my last arrow, the one I had been saving. 
That arrow, the one that had been cut free of Faryaah-Tses flesh in Okrannel, flew 
straight and true. The magick that had been worked on it by the other sullanciri had not 
abated whether because it had not killed the urZrethi for which it was intended, or just 
because that was the nature of the enchantment, 
I do not know. The black arrow took 
the sullanciri high in the chest, between both pairs of shoulders, and when it screamed, 
burning blood cascaded from its mouth like molten lead being poured from a crucible. 
It leaped forward blindly, yet still almost crushed Leigh beneath its hooves. It landed 
in the gap, then dashed beyond the walls. Its hands clutched at the arrow, trying to 
break it off, but it remained whole. It pranced angrily, hopping back and forth in evident 
agony, its torso and back high enough to rise above the thinning fog. 
It moved from trying to break the arrow to pulling it out, but it defied the sullanciri in 
that as well. Chytrines creature smiled, a most horrible thing to behold, and looked up 
at me. Its smile broadened as it pounded a fist against the end of the arrow, driving it 
deeper into its body. The pain that action caused made it shift and dance, twisting it 
around enough to let me see the arrows tip protruding from its back. Another blow 
extended it six inches more, then the Aurolani leader reached a hand back and started to 
draw the arrow from itself. 
More blood flowed, coursing down its back and belly, and ran from its mouth as it 
laughed. I had no idea how long it would take it to recover from its wounds, but I did 
know that as long as it had the spark of life in it, it would heal. It might be vulnerable to 
Leighs sword or that one arrow, but once it was whole again it would destroy us. 
Fortunately, it ran out of time to heal. 
The trumpet blast alerting us to the commitment of the Aurolani reinforcements had 
long since signaled others among us to act. The tunnels that would allow the Durgrue 
River to flood the lowlands were opened. Water burst through the grasses in great 
muddy brown gouts, pitching turf and stones, corpses and debris into the air. Water

pounced on the fog, churning it into tan froth, then rolled forward in a wave that crashed 
into the sullanciri. 
Steam hissed from it in great sibilant clouds. What had been white hot dulled to red, 
then grey and black, then cracked. A torrent swirled around it, splashing over its face, 
cooling blood into black icicles hanging from its chin. The Dark Lancer sat back, as if 
preparing to rear up, but its hind legs collapsed. Its forelegs disintegrated as they came 
up out of the water, then it toppled over onto its side and exploded. 
The flood swallowed it in an unmarked grave and rolled on, sweeping through the 
swollen ranks of gibberers and vy-laens. A few temeryces squawked and clawed at 
gibberers to try to rise above the flood, but their dying perches sank. The frostclaws 
nipped at the water as if they could drive it away, but it pulled them down and rolled 
them over, mixing them with the struggling, sputtering Aurolani host. 
The trumpet blast also summoned our reinforcements from the stronghouses. 
Crossbowmen and archers filled the ranks of spearmen. Their shots ripped through 
gibberers and broke the tide of the Aurolani advance. More archers flanked the column 
and newly reloaded ballistae cut down dozens. Nay and an Oriosan company surged 
forward, driving a wedge into the Aurolani flank. They reached Leigh, who had already 
gained his feet and, despite shifting Temmer to his left hand, had killed a few more 
gibberers. 
Both of the towers located on either side of the gap started the flow of napthalm, 
covering the water with a burning coat. Gibberers striking for the surface and those 
swimming in retreat 
suddenly found the lowlands impassable. Further along the wall 
one of the siege towers began to topple as the rising water softened the land beneath it. 
It splashed down grandly, casting archers from the top, and began to burn as flaming 
water hit it. 
In less than an hour we had broken the army of the north and sealed our breach with 
a fiery lake. The other battles still raged in the city, their outcome yet to be decided. It 
was our job to compound our victory with theirs, and to accomplish that task we grimly 
set forth. 
All of our troops, save the garrison we left to hold the breach, swept south and 
slammed into Chytrines right flank. Her force, which had been channeled into the city 
much as the northern army had, began to crumble. To counter our attack she loosed a 
flock of grand temeryces. Sporting brilliantly colored plumage, these frostclaws were a 
bit bigger than those wed seen before. Their attack on our central formation was 
nothing short of suicidal, but they broke our momentum and blunted our drive to nip off 
a portion of her force. 
She also fired the outer city. With my own eyes I saw vylaens use magick to ignite the 
blazes. Despite what has been rumored, Cavarre did not start the fire, nor did any of our 
forces. He had, of course, long since figured out how to deal with such an eventuality, 
and before the smoke could settle over everything in a choking fog, trumpets blew 
retreats, pulling 
us back to the inner city. Chytrine also pulled her troops back, including 
the southern force, which had come to a stalemate 
with Augustus force. 
The fire provided Chytrines forces with a respite, and we likewise won one, though 
resting up and trying to breathe in the smoky inner fortress was very difficult. The food 
all tasted burned and keeping bits of ash off it was impossible. Many veterans just smiled 
and said it would put hair on our chests or give us good singing voices, but I failed to 
see how either thing would be relevant in our current situation. 
I searched for a long time to find Leigh, mistakenly having assumed he would be at 
the aid station set up for Oriosan troops. Most of our men had faired pretty well, with 
the majority 
of the wounds being like mine: minor cuts. A few had been lung-struck 
with arrows or swords, and more had deep gashes from the temeryx attack, but all

seemed in good spirits and busied themselves sewing up wounds, creating poultices at 
healers instructions or just calming hurt friends who had to wait for elven magickers to 
appear. 
I found Leigh in a small blockhouse near the inner fortress gate. Id been directed to it 
because it was the aid station that had been set up for nobles. Few enough of them had 
been hurt that, had I been of a cynical mindset, I would have assumed 
that instead of 
being lucky, most of the nobles had never put themselves in jeopardy. Being young as I 
was, and with the examples of Prince Kirill and Lord Norrington fresh in my mind, I 
assumed good training and intelligence had preserved most of the nobles from injury. 
I found Leigh on a cot in the corner of a room with Prince Scrainwood perched at the 
foot of his bed. The Prince scowled at me instantly, but Leigh gave me a smile. He 
levered himself higher in the bed using Temmer. Hed been stripped to the waist and 
had a bandage wrapped around his ribs. I could see the dark angry purple of a bruise all 
over his right flank, and despite his brave smile, I knew he was in a lot of pain. 
Metholanth could ease that, you know. 
Leigh waved away the suggestion. Others have more need. 
Scrainwood, who had been holding a poultice against a nasty bruise on his forehead, 
glared at me. This place is for nobles. Youll have to get your leg looked after 
elsewhere. 
I looked at him and poured as much contempt as I could into my stare, then shook 
my head and nodded at Leigh. How bad is it? 
Ribs broke, definitely. Ive not coughed up blood. He winced, his breath coming 
short and hard. An elfs on the way. Once the Prince is taken care of . . . 
I see. I again regarded Scrainwood. What happened to you? 
I was unhorsed and hit my head. 
I did my best to hide my surprise since I knew hed been with Augustus and I didnt 
see Scrainwood tucking himself into combat. Regardless, warriors generally mention 
what or who hit them, which suggested to me it hadnt been an enemy warrior. As I had 
the story afterwardnot from the Prince, of courseScrainwood managed to lead a 
small knot of men into the wrong place at the wrong time. A roving gibberer squad 
attacked them, his horse went down and he hit his head on a watering trough. His men 
managed to get him clear, but at the cost of two lives. 
Leigh coughed weakly, then hissed with pain. The Prince tells me the sullanciri 
leading the southern army was a hoargoun. He says it has a most hideous power. Fear 
spreads from it in this miasma. Worse, it cannot be killed. 
Scrainwood nodded enthusiastically. Yes, it is already dead, so it cannot die again. 
Our arrows had no effect. The narrow streets restricted the swing of its club, otherwise it 
would have smashed us. 
How fared Augustus? 
Well. 
Prince Scrainwood told me that Augustus managed to have a catapult hit the 
sullanciri with napthalm and set it afire. That drove it back but didnt consume it. 
I nodded, then pointed at Temmer. Magick weapons seem to be all that works 
against them. You best be up and about when he comes again. 
That is my plan. He smiled and looked past me toward the door. And here is the 
first step in that plan. 
I turned as a rustling of skirts came to me, and immediately 
felt out of place. The elf 
entering the room wore a brown gown that, while not festive, seemed far removed from 
combat. 
Here I stood reeking of smoke, with soot and blood staining 
me and my 
clothes, and she clean and fresh, with bright eyes and a beautiful smile. She seemed the 
utter opposite of what we all represented.

She came immediately to Leigh, but he shook his head. You should see to Prince 
Scrainwood. 
She smiled indulgently. You will forgive me, but I choose who I heal and of what. My 
strength is limited, and I wish to put it to its best use. 
But my head, it hurts. Scrainwood pulled away the compress 
to show her the 
bump. 
And I see one possible cause. She reached out and brushed the middle finger of her 
left hand on Scrainwoods bump. I saw a flash of blue, akin to a woolspark. Scrainwood 
yelped and jumped back, banging his head on the wall. 
The Prince snarled at her. What did you do? 
Magicks require an expenditure of energy to fuel them. I can draw on my own 
reserves or, in the case where someone is receptive, I can use their bodys own strength 
to help. In your case, I reduced the swelling and repaired the damage, but it had a cost. 
In that one instant you felt all the pain the wound would have caused you if it had healed 
naturally. 
Scrainwood frowned and slumped against the wall, rubbing 
the back of his head. 
The elf smiled at Leigh. I am Jilandessa. With you I need to determine what is wrong 
before I can weave a spell to heal you. 
Leigh smiled. I am at your disposal. 
Jilandessa brushed her raven hair back past her shoulders, then spread her 
long-fingered hands out and held them over his ribcage. A soft red glow began to 
spread out from them, but failed to touch Leighs flesh. She pulled back, narrowing her 
steel-blue eyes. There is interference. I cannot work spells on you. 
Leigh frowned, then glanced at the sheathed sword he clutched in his right hand. 
Could this be the cause? 
The elf nodded. Very possible. You and it have a bond. As long as you are touching 
it, I cannot heal you. No simple magicks can work on you. 
Leigh smiled and glanced at me. See, Hawkins, you neednt have gotten yourself 
roasted at the bridge. 
Nice to know now. 
Leigh looked again at the sword. Well, if I must give you up . . . 
Scrainwood got up on his knees at Leighs right, his hands poised to grab the sword. 
I will hold it for you. 
You are very kind, Prince Scrainwood, but . . . Leigh shook his head, I would not 
make a servant of you. He shifted the blade to his left hand, then held it out to me. 
Hawkins, would you hold this for me? 
I almost protested the implication that I was his servant, but I knew he didnt mean 
that. I accepted the sword from his hand, keeping my grip firm on the scabbard and 
refraining from touching any part of Temmer itself. The blade did feel lightfar lighter 
than it should haveand well balanced. In and of itself, even without the magick, it was 
a formidable weapon. 
The second it left Leighs grasp, his expression slackened and his eyes lost focus. Pain 
tightened his eyes and he sagged. He tried to smile, but his teeth were gritted. Im 
ready. 
Jilandessa bent to her task quickly and this time the red magick did penetrate his 
flesh. I saw a silver line glowing on his right flank, glowing right up through the 
bandage, and it seemed as if that might be outlining the broken ribs. It looked a bit like 
lightning and probably hurt as much. 
The red changed to green, which dulled the silver lightning, 
then subsumed it. The 
bruises on Leighs chest faded, pulling back like an army in retreat. Leighs breathing 
eased and his jaw unclenched. He remained slumped in the bed, but that seemed more

because of fatigue than an inability to move. 
He nodded sleepily at her. I feel much better. Thank you. 
Jilandessa smiled. Youll need to sleep now, for a while, but you will be recovered 
when you waken. 
Leigh smiled, then held his left hand out toward me. Temmer, please. 
He struck me very much as a child asking for a favored toy at bedtime. I hesitated, 
not because I coveted the blade for myself, but because I wished him the peace hed 
known earlier without it. Something inside of me said that such peace would never be 
his again, so I gave him back Temmer and tried to smile as he clutched the blade to his 
breast, much in the same way he had described it lying in the sepulchre where he found 
it. 
The elf turned to me. Shall I deal with your leg? 
I looked up at her, surprised. No, my lady, I am not a noble. 
Spells do not discriminate. She shrugged slightly. And you bear a silverwood bow. 
Your actions have proved you worthy of my ministrations. 
But I would not have you tire yourself on my account. Its a flesh woundone suited 
to needle and thread, not magick. 
Jilandessa smiled carefully. Then I will use your own strength, as I did with Prince 
Scrainwood. 
Well, there was an opportunity I could not pass up. I nodded 
to her and steeled 
myself for the pain. I had always thought I had a high threshold of painthings did not 
seem to hurt me as much as they had others, and Id played that to my advantage, 
cultivating a reputation for being quite stoic. I set my face and stared past her at 
Scrainwood. 
Jilandessa flicked a finger over the gash on my thigh. It felt to me as if she had 
jammed a glass auger into the wound and kept turning and turning it, driving the pain 
deeper and deeper. It built for one heartbeat, then two, and I expected it to subside 
then, but it kept going. I wanted to curse the pain, I wanted to blaspheme Fesyins 
name, but I held it in. I forced myself to remain expressionless and to continue 
breathing as the pain spiked high, then did not let my relief show as it began to drain 
away. 
There, gone. The elf smiled at me, then drew back a step and curtsied to the Prince 
and Leigh. Good day, fine men. 
I nodded to her. Thank you very much for your help. 
She swept from the room. I watched her go, then turned back to look at Leigh, who 
was sleeping. I caught Scrainwood staring angrily at me. His face looked as if the pain I 
had endured were a bitter draught hed been forced to drink down. 
I ignored him, bent and kissed Leigh on the forehead. Sleep well, Leigh. Tomorrow 
your actions will decide the fate of Fortress Draconis. 
Somehow, in the chaos that was the inner fortress, I found Seethe and we retreated 
to the Crown Tower. We sought sanctuary 
in her room. Though both of us were grimy 
and hungry and exhausted, we stripped off our clothes and fell into her bed together. We 
went at each other with a fierce passion and intensity that matched the ferocity of 
combat and I knew greater pleasures than I had known before. 
Ive heard men speculate about why people are so eager to couple in such 
circumstances. Some say battle, with all its horror and blood and death, reminds us of 
our own mortality. Procreation, or at least the act of it, is the only answer to staring your 
own death in the face. Others contend that the joy of surviving is so great that words 
and thoughts and songs alone cannot express it. It requires the whole of a person to 
sing it, body and soul. And yet others suggest it is a way to anchor yourself in normalcy 
after having ventured into the twisted and mind-breaking crucible of warfare.

To me, it seems, it was all of those things and more. Though young and absolutely 
entranced with all that Seethe was, the clarity of mind Kedyn granted me left me no 
doubt about the ultimate fate of our relationship. Even if we did both survive this war, I 
would age and she would not. Eventually she would tire of me or, if I was fortunate, she 
would clutch my hand while I lay on my deathbed. I think I wanted to share passion 
with her at that time, in that place, under those circumstances, 
so she would have 
something to remember. I did not want her to be able to forget me because I knew I 
would never forget her. 
Her motivation I can only guess at. When she did notice, during a pause in our frenzy, 
that my thigh had been sealed with magick, she playfully accused me of seeing another 
elf. Have we spoiled you now, Hawkins, that no woman will satisfy you? 
We laughed over that and plunged back into our lovemak-ing, but Id noted a hint of 
sadness in her as she chided me. Being a Vorquelf meant she always felt she was an 
outsider, so the idea that another elf, one bound to a homeland, would somehow be 
more attractive to me than she was an idea that easily took root in her heart. I did all I 
could, in word and deed, to eradicate itand in the end, I think it had withered and 
died. Still, because of it, I think she clung to me so she could belong with someone, to 
be more than an outsider. 
While we were together the world did continue on around us and even affected us. As 
dusk fellprematurely because of the smoke blotting out the suna loud blast ripped 
through the outer city and shook the tower sufficiently to bounce me out of bed. My ears 
rang, both with the sound of the explosion and Seethes laughter. I spared a mock-angry 
glance at her, then stripped off a blanket and wrapped myself in it. I heard people 
scurrying about in the hallway and I inquired of them what had happened. 
No one knew then, but the way Dothan Cavarre reconstructed 
events provided a 
plausible explanation for what had happened. It appeared that in the haste to bring the 
dragonel into the city to blast the inner fortress gate down, a vylaen in charge of the 
powder wagon had raced it into the burning city. He made a wrong turn, found himself 
in a cul-de-sac of burning 
buildings and one collapsed on his wagon. It ignited the 
powder, resulting in an explosion that leveled six blocks of the city. 
Some good came out of that explosion, for it snuffed some of the firesmost of 
which were burning out anyway. As the sun sank and the moon rose, the smoke began 
to clear and blow back over Chytrines camp. That did make it difficult to assess how 
much we had weakened her forces, but the bodies scattered through the streets and the 
reports by various commanders 
suggested she had lost at least half her force. 
The blast also deprived her of the powder that made the dragonel work. We didnt 
realize she had no extra at the time, of course, but the cessation of dragonel shots was a 
welcome relief in and of itself. We braced for their resumption at any time, but as none 
came our confidence in the fortress strength increased. 
The loss of the dragonel as a weapon did force Chytrine to do something I think she 
would have preferred not to do. Our first inkling that she had acted came when a winged 
form momentarily blotted out the moon. Id not seen it, but others started howling about 
having seen a dragon. Cavarre immediately 
isolated and interrogated those who had 
seen it, but the rumor spread and even the elves and urZrethi seemed unsettled 
by it. I 
knew of dragons from legend, but it is hard to invest a lot of fear in a creature you think 
of as all but mythical. 
Reflecting back on what I had seen at Atval, I really should have been out of my mind 
with fear. Id seen what dragons were capable of doing to a city and really should have 
seen how easily one would devastate the fortress. Still, it was not until dawn, when this 
massive creature unfurled bat-wings and hurled itself into the air, that I began to quake. 
The legends and bards tales that describe dragons as huge, scaled beasts with horns

and spiked tails, claws and wings and breath of fire are not wrong. What they miss falls 
into two areas, one of which is the graceful ease with which a dragon moves. I would 
never describe a dragon as being playful, but the way the tail curled around in flight, the 
way it ducked its head left and right when flying over the fortress, mirrored the curiosity 
of cats or dogs, or the suppleness of a marten. 
The other thing the legends do not address is the intelligence 
in a dragons eyes. As 
it landed before the inner fortress gate, its claws digging up cobblestones and its body 
crushing the smoldering ruins of houses, the dragon swept its gaze over us. Gold flecked 
its luminously green eyes, a pattern that was reversed on its scales. It watched us, and 
as those massive eyes met mine, I knew it could read me and through me my parents 
and their parents and so on, back to the dawn of time. I saw no sympathy there, or 
compassion. Merely curiosity and, perhaps, a hint of intellectual satisfaction at seeing 
how some lines had bred down through the ages. 
Then its eyes dulled and its chest expanded. Standing on the battlements well north of 
the gate, I could feel air rushing past as the dragon breathed in. Then the breeze 
stopped, much as the air stills before a storm. Only the panicked screams of men 
running from the battlements near the gate split the silence. 
Then the dragon breathed out. 
A blast of heat hit me, just like stepping into a warm house on a cold winter night, 
only much hotter and much harder. My eyes watered and narrowed as a brilliant jet of 
flame shot from the beasts mouth. The iron binding the oak beams in the gate went 
from black to red, then boiled away in an eye-blink. The beams resisted for a moment, 
still held in place against the massive beam holding the gates shut. Then they 
combusted, and a second later the beam did too. I heard it snap and burning chunks of 
oak scattered themselves through the courtyard as if someone had carelessly kicked 
embers from a campfire across it. 
Men who had been slow to run were blown off the battlements, 
but burned to ash 
before their bodies ever hit the ground. More peculiarlyand faintly reminiscent of 
Atval the stones near the gate began to melt and then froze in place. The gate looked 
as if a stone wave had been splashed against it, but before the stone could flow away, it 
had been solidified. These new crenelations gave a look of surprise to the gate, as if it 
could not believe what would be passing through it. 
The dragon launched itself into the air, screamed once defiantly, then circled the 
fortress and flew back to Chytrines camp. It settled there, behind her pavilion, and 
roared exultantly. 
Seethe slipped into my arms and shivered. Lord Nor-rington appeared next to me on 
the wall. The piece of the DragonCrown that she got from Okrannel allows her to 
control 
that dragon. If she gets the pieces stored here, her power will be multiplied. 
Instead of controlling one dragon, she will control a legion of them. 
I nodded. We cant let that happen. 
No, we cant. 
As if to mock our resolve, war drums began pounding in the Aurolani camp, and her 
legions began their advance. 
Seethe, Lord Norrington, and I rushed down the steps to where Cavarre and Prince 
Kirill were ordering men to swing ballistae into place to defend the open gateway. 
Elsewhere 
Nay, Leigh, Augustus, and even Scrainwood helped people situate barricades. 
Wagons were rolled into place and overturned, log spindles with spikes on all sides were 
laid outmen even kicked and poked burning remnants of the gate into place to hold 
back the armies that were coming in. Down on the ground we couldnt see the line of 
Aurolani forces snaking its way through the city, but the action of catapults 
and 
fire-towers told us when they began to draw near. Stones arced through the sky, clouds

of calthrops flew, and streams of fire poured out. We heard screams in the distance and 
saw greasy black smoke curl up, but the boom, boom, boom of the drums never ceased. 
A figure loomed in the smoke, all tall and unsteady, moping 
along with a heavy club 
dragged behind it. As it drew closer, smoke clung to it and reluctantly drifted off. The 
creatures 
flesh matched the smoke, while rents in its skin revealed blackened muscles. 
When it clumsily sagged against a building, 
its shoulder catching and breaking the 
frame of a second-story window, I realized how big it was. It was a hoargoun, and as 
the stench of it finally reached me I realized it really was undead, a revived corpse, and 
a sullanciri. 
Two things happened as it hove into view. The first felt akin to the sensation I had 
after that first dragonel shot. This time, though, the wall that slammed into me hit on an 
intangible 
level. I couldnt feel it physically. It didnt shake me, but I know it went 
through me. I shivered in its wake, then I felt pain. 
Down in my right leg, where it had been wounded. Where it had been healed. 
I could see through the cut in my breeches that the wound had reopened. All around 
meon the walls, in the courtyard
men crumpled. Blood began pouring from wounds 
magick had closed. Leigh collapsed, clutching his arms around his middle. 
Lord Norringtons eyes narrowed. Chytrine managed to dispel all the healing magick. 
Evacuate the wounded. Get them off the walls and into the tower. Move them, now! 
I glanced over at Leigh. Nay helped him to his feet and another man already had 
Leighs left arm over his shoulders and was hustling him away. It took me a half-second 
to figure out who was helping Leigh, then I bristled. Scrainwood! The coward was using 
Leigh as an excuse to get himself off the battlefield. 
I started after them, vaulting a wagon, then leaping above burning logs when the 
second thing hit me. Fear poured off the sullanciri in waves, like echoes in a hall. People 
all around me got a wild expression in their eyes. Some dropped their weapons and 
covered their faces in their hands, too afraid to look at what was coming. Others spun 
and vomited while yet others began to scream. 
I could feel the sullanciris magick pick at me, trying to find some sort of fear that 
would resonate within me. Any fear would do, big or smallit needed something to 
open a wound in my soul. From there it could expand, carrying me over into panic. Id 
lose my mind and become a helpless victim 
of the Aurolani host. 
I flashed past a ballistae as Prince Kirill pulled the lanyard and sent a score of 
yard-and-a-half-long spears hurtling out at the shambling giant. Many hit, skewering its 
thighs and arms, piercing its belly and chest. One passed through its throat. The 
sullanciri did stumble back under the force of the assault and crashed into a chimney. It 
fell apart beneath the sullanciri, but the creature slowly gathered itself to stand again. 
My run carried me out of sight of the creature, though fear still assaulted me. I think I 
did not go mad right then and there because I was more concerned for Leigh than I was 
myself. So, I guess, in some way I was affected by the magick, but its bidding and mine 
were the same, so little harm was done. 
I almost missed them because Scrainwood had dragged Leigh down an alley and 
deposited him against a wall. The Prince squatted beside him with both hands on 
Temmers scabbarded length. Leigh clung to the swords hilt with one hand and weakly 
tried to push Scrainwood away with the other. 
My backhand slap caught Scrainwood across the face and spun him deeper into the 
alley. He came to rest on his ass, with his knees drawn up to his chest. Id split his lip. 
The pink tip of his tongue came out and tasted blood, then retreated as if the wound 
were a nettle and it had been stung. 
I dropped to a knee beside Leigh and rested my hands on his shoulders. Leigh, 
Leighl You have to get up. You have to kill the sullanciri.

He shook his head wildly, looking at me and past me. No, no, no! 
Leigh! I raised my hand to strike him. 
He snarled at me and made as if to draw his sword, but then he coughed and pain 
wracked him. It also brought him to his senses. I cant, Hawkins. 
You must. You have Temmer. You can kill it. 
I cant, Hawkins. Leigh clutched at my mail surcoat. Dont you see, the sword didnt 
protect me from magick. It never has. If I ... the sullanciri . . . Hawkins, I cant do it. Ill 
die. The curse will be true. 
If you dont draw it, your friends and your father will die! I shook him, not too hard, 
but firmly nonetheless. You have to do it, Leigh. 
I cant! 
Scrainwood crawled forward on his hands and knees. He cant do it, Hawkins, you 
can see that. Leigh, give the sword to me. Ill do it. 
Leighs eyes widened and terror shot through his voice. No, no, no, no! He held the 
sword tightly. No, no, no! 
Leigh! I clapped my hands on his head and forced him to look at me. You must 
come fight. 
His eyes never focused. No, no, no, no . . . 
Hes not going to do it, Hawkins. Give the sword to me. 
I snorted and slapped Scrainwood again. Youre a fool. 
Hed fallen back on his right haunch and held his left hand to his face. A fool, me? 
Without that sword . . . 
Yes, I know. I looked down at my friend cringing there. He clung to the sword like 
ivy, like a babe to his mother. I remembered Leigh laughing, rhyming, making an 
entrance at the gala, gallantly accepting Ryhopes scarf as a prize. 
That Leigh was as close to me as any of my brothers. 
The man curled around the sword at my feet was not that Leigh. 
Im sorry, so sorry. I rapped my right hand hard against Leighs ribs, wringing a 
howl from him. The pain drained all the strength from his body, making it easy for me 
to rip Temmer 
from his grasp. 
I snarled and brandished Temmer at the Oriosan Prince. Youre a fool because you 
asked for the sword, Scrainwood. A sword like this can only be taken. 
I drew Temmer and caught my reflection in its golden length. My heart ached for 
Leigh because suddenly I comprehended 
all of what hed been living with. Temmer was 
at once wonderful and terrible, a best friend and a vile enemy. I lusted after it, I hated it, 
and I was awed by it. 
With that hilt in my hand, the golden blade bared, the world shifted in my sight. I 
could suddenly see a rainbow of colors that had not existed before. Fear and pain tinted 
Leigh, while hatred burned brightly from Scrainwoods exposed flesh. In an instant I saw 
him as an enemy and knew killing him would be justified, but I also felt there was bigger 
prey in the area and Temmer demanded I seek it out. 
I stripped off my old sword, casting it aside. I had Temmer, I had no need of another 
sword. It could only slow me, trip me, and steal from me the glory I would win with 
Temmer. 
I ran from the alley and stemmed the tide of fleeing warriors. 
As I turned the corner 
and entered the courtyard, the sullanciri ducked its head and passed through the gate. A 
few arrows, mostly elven, shot at it. Shafts bristled from the giant, but its slack-jawed, 
empty-eyed face gave no sign if it felt pain or not. 
As it came closer, with each ponderous step loosening the cobbles beneath its feet, 
the miasma of fear became more powerful. The assaults increased in speed and 
intensity, searching minds for any possible fear it could exploit. I relived countless fearful

situations in a heartbeat and might have succumbed 
to any of them, save for having 
Temmer in my right hand. 
/ have Temmer. What have I to fear? 
A man leaped over a barricade and dashed forward with a sword in hand. It was Kirill 
and I knew that, but Temmer overlaid him with new colors. Courage boiled off him like 
steam on a lake, and fury seemed to be the fire in his heart. His sword cut left and right, 
slicing muscle, hewing bone as he dashed beneath the swung club and slashed the 
hoargouns legs. He got behind the giant and gashed the creature in the back of a leg, 
hoping to hobble it. His effort might have worked, too, had the hoargoun simply been a 
creature of flesh and blood. 
It wasnt. It was a sullanciri and its most insidious weapon finally found its mark. 
Fear. Fear for his daughter. Fear for what would happen to her if he failed. It curled 
up in his belly and struck like a snake. Kirill hesitated, didnt move. I could see the fear 
of never seeing his daughter again well up in him, paralyzing him just for a moment. 
For a moment too long. 
The Dark Lancers cudgel came around and smashed Kirill against the inside of the 
fortress wall. His legs thrashed on the ground. The rest of him dripped out of the crater 
the clubs impact had left in the wall. 
As I sprinted within striking range, Temmer displayed its full powers to me. The 
sullanciri seemed to move more slowly and I could see flows of motion around it, 
indicating where it was going to go, where the club would be. Dodging to one side was 
simple. I ducked beneath the club strike and was in between 
the creatures legs. 
I swept the blade up and around in a two-handed strike at the Dark Lancers left knee. 
As the edge bit into the creatures flesh the skin and muscle became almost transparent 
to my eyes. I could see the blade cutting through sinew and with a wiggle here or a twist 
there, I guided it through the kneejoint without burying the blade in bone. Temmer 
came out the other side, spraying the fetid fluid that served as the Dark Lancers blood 
over the wall. 
I dashed forward as the hoargoun began to fall, and spun into another attack. I 
slashed through the back of its left thigh, letting Temmers tip barely score the bone. I 
leaped into the air and landed on the sullancirVs buttocks as its hips hit the ground, then 
I scurried up its back. It tried to keep itself off the ground with its arms, but a quick 
slash up through the left armpit, and then some sawing with Temmer, and that arm 
came away. 
The sullanciri crashed down to the left and flung me off, but I landed easily, tucked 
into a ball and rolled. At the end of it I came up on my feet and danced back toward the 
creatures head. It reared up, pushing off with its right arm. It managed to raise its head 
up about six feet. Though the sullanciri was huge and ugly and reeked of death, I 
dashed in and stabbed upward, driving Temmer through the empty left eye-socket and 
deep into whatever it had remaining for a brain. 
A dark, stinking fluid gushed out, drenching me. I tried to tug Temmer free but could 
not, and the greasy ooze made my hand slip from the swords hilt. The sullanciris 
thrashing tore the blade from my grip and I sailed back, bouncing down hard on the 
cobbles. I spun, pummeled by fear, and watched the hoargoun heave itself to its feet. 
It was a testament to the fearful strength of the creature that with only one arm it 
could push itself upright. The right leg straightened and the giant would have remained 
upright, save that without a left arm it could not balance itself, nor could it brace itself 
against the gateway. Its head smashed into the battlement above the gate, then the 
sullandri listed to the right, drove the stump of its left leg into the ground, and fell full 
forward for a second time. 
The sullandri % head slammed hard into the courtyards paving stones. I heard a pop

and a crack, then saw the tip of Temmers blade poke up through the back of the giants 
skull. A second later the swords hilt, with only a couple of inches of blade attached, 
skittered and danced across the stones and spun to a rest near my right hand. 
The gibberer horde at the gateway howled and, brandishing 
their longknives, 
sprinted forward. 
Hawkins, stay down! 
I flattened as ballistae behind me shot, speeding spears and arrows above the 
sullandris corpse. The volleys tore holes in the Aurolani line, but gibberers still came 
hard. I tried to scramble to my feet, but the Dark Lancers blood made the ground 
slippery and kept me down. I sprawled there, with two inches of broken sword all I had 
to defend myself. 
Then Lord Norrington appeared above me, sword in hand, and slashed the face from 
the gibberer closest to me. He parried 
another blade aside, kicked the gibberer carrying 
it in the gut, then crushed the creatures head with his pommel. Lord Norringtons blade 
swung in a broad arc, cleaving skulls, severing 
limbs, opening bellies, and spilling 
bloodone man against a wall, holding them back from me. 
I rolled to my right, getting past the arc of his blade, then appropriated a longknife. I 
twisted to the left, lunging across my body to throat-stick a gibberer going at Lord 
Norringtons back. It gurgled and died, but not before I had to kick it away from 
clutching at his legs. I settled in at Lord Norringtons back. He acknowledged me with a 
nod. Together we stood there and slew anything within reach. 
We should have died because the whole of the Aurolani horde poured through that 
gatewayat least it seemed so to me. I heard men and women shouting all around us. 
Bows thrummed, catapults cracked, swords cut, axes chopped, spears stabbed, and 
magick sizzled, yet all I could see around Lord Norrington and me were gibberersrank 
upon rank of them flowing around us like a stream around a rock. Bodies were deposited 
around us like silt, building up a barrier that couldnt be crossed, and our blades still 
licked out to inflict as much damage as we could. 
With our forces scattered, I thought we had lost the day. As it turned out, though, 
men and women now free of fear returned 
to the battle. Theyd been so enwrapped in 
terror that anything seemed a relief and even a change for the better. The absence of 
fear substituted for courage in many, so they returned 
to fight and the river flowing 
around us slowed, then began to thin and reverse course. 
The thunder of hoofbeats on paving stones filled the courtyard 
as Augustus and his 
cavalry charged into the gibberer throng through an opening theyd torn in barricades. 
Archers on the walls, or raised on any high point like stairs or nearby rooftops, shot 
down into the gibberers. Combative roars dwindled 
to painful squeals then, somewhere 
distant, trumpets began 
to blow a recall and the gibberers fled. 
A cheer arose from our people, but it lasted only a moment. 
As if summoned by the 
same trumpet that had sounded an Aurolani retreat, the dragon took wing and soared 
above us. It screamed defiantly, then tightened its circle and descended 
toward the 
Crown Tower. 
I saw in an instant what had happened. Chytrine had wished to raze Fortress 
Draconis, for it was an affront to her. It had been built after Kiruns defeat to forever 
challenge any invasion from the north. Its very presence was a pebble in her shoe and 
she had been determined to have it gone. It had proved more formidable than she had 
anticipated, however, and with her generals all dead, her army began to fall apart. 
She had not, however, lost sight of the great prize in Fortress 
Draconis. Three pieces 
of the DragonCrown had been housed there. Along with the one portion she already 
possessed, 
these three would give her half of it. The power to control one dragon had 
already proved devastating, and using that dragon to get the other three pieces would be

simple. 
We had won the battle on the ground, but she would have her prize. 
The dragon flared his wings out, then settled on the tower. All four of his claws found 
ample purchase on the buttresses, while the tip of the tower just barely scraped against 
his belly. He craned his head back, roaring triumphantly, then snaked his long neck 
forward and down. Like a dog devouring a hens egg, the dragon snapped his jaws shut 
on the towers roof, crushing it and tearing it away. He flung his head back and forth, 
scattering debris all over the fortress, then let the lead-sheathed remnants fly deep out 
into the ocean. 
I remember two things with crystal clarity from that moment. 
One was the light from 
the crown fragments playing over the dragons golden belly scales. The dragon looked 
down and in beneath himself at them, almost with the gentleness of a bitch nuzzling 
suckling puppies. The light seemed to dazzle it for a moment. 
The other thing I recall was the serene expression on Dothan Cavarres face as, with 
the rest of us, he stared up at the tower top. Though the others around him had their 
mouths open in horror and defeat, he watched peacefully and expectantly. He knew what 
would happen and waited to see if centuries of preparation would pay off. 
While placing items of great value in a tower made sense for men, it was because we 
were creatures who did not soar. Hiding the DragonCrown fragments at the top of a 
tower, on the other hand, made no sense especially if it were a dragon that might come 
to steal them away. From the very first the architects who had planned the fortress 
realized this, and they took precautions which the centuries had hidden from everyone 
save the Draconis Barons and a few trusted aides. 
The removal of the towers roof loosed four massive counterweights that fell down 
through shafts built in the towers external walls. These counterweights pulled cables 
magickally spun of steel. Those cables were linked through a pulley system to a 
needle-sharp steel spike over thirty feet in length that had been housed in the central 
shaft of the circular stairway that ran up the tower. As the weights fell toward the earth, 
the spike flew up from the depths. It stabbed up through the firepit in the Crown 
Chamber and pierced the dragons heart. 
The dragon leaped up and away, and had it been free of Chytrines control, it might 
have gotten off with only a pinking. 
It beat its wings hard twice, lifting it from the tower 
and backing it to the north, then its tail twisted and lashed in pain. The dragon roared 
again, though muted and abruptly cut off. Then one wing flailed, the other half-furled, 
and the dragon fell from the sky. 
It hit the ground in the new, man-made lake north of the fortress. None of us could 
see it crash down, though droplets of water from the splash reached us even as far away 
as we were. We all stood there in stunned silence, none of us certain about what we had 
seen. Then, from here and there, someone cursed or shouted, and cheers began to 
drown out the moans and mews and whimpers of the wounded and dying. I began to 
laugh and hugged Lord Norrington, and he, me. 
All of us, the survivors of the siege, yelped for joy. And then, just as quickly as 
pandemonium had erupted, it subsided, 
and we set about the brutal task of driving the 
Aurolani host from our land. 
nnhe dragon died just after noon. Prince Augustus led the I fortresss cavalry in a 
series of harassing charges at the 1 Aurolani rear guard, but Chytrine refused to let a 
retreat turn into a rout. She kept vylaens and temeryces active on the flanks, so that 
when the cavalry charged at the gibberer formations, 
the threat of attacks from their 
sides made them break off their runs at the enemy. Even so, the horsemen drove the 
guards off the dragonel, allowing a small squad of Nalesk cavalry 
to capture the 
weapon. Augustus people then chased the Aurolani forces into the woods and onto the

road north for two hours, then returned. 
By the time he came back, the Aurolani fleet had broken up and we were able to land 
our own ships. Better yet, Ori-osan Scouts, Muroson Heavy Guards, and Sebcian Light 
Foot arrived from the south. Their intent had been to lift the siege, but their presence as 
reinforcements was more than welcome. 
I sought Leigh to apologize for what I had done. I headed first for the aid station 
where Id found him after the previous fight. The place was filled to overflowing with the 
wounded, some who just sat glassy-eyed, staring off at nothing, others keening in voices 
no long human, but filled with pain. Bodies were sprawled everywhere. Men clutched at 
me as I moved past, mistaking me for friends. I slipped their grasping hands and 
continued my search. 
Finally, in the small room that had housed him before, I found Leigh. I caught a 
glimpse of him through the doorway. He sat up on the bed, shiveringat least, I told 
myself he was shivering, not suffering from the palsy for which Temmer was the cure. 
Grey blankets enshrouded him, emphasizing the pallor 
of his skin. He sat there, rocking 
back and forth, clutching to himself a stick, caressing it as if it were his sword. Speaking 
to it. 
I made as if to enter the room, but a hand caught my wrist, spinning me about. 
Jilandessa, haggard and bloodstained, shook her head at me. You cant go in there. 
But, Leigh . . . 
Physically he is well, Hawkins. The elf lowered her eyes for a moment. There are 
other wounds I cannot heal. They will take time. 
Perhaps I can 
No, Hawkins. Seeing you would not help him right now. She clasped me by the 
shoulders. You have to give him time. . . . 
Her words, though offered softly and sympathetically, left me hollow inside. As per 
the price paid by those who wielded Temmer, Leigh had been broken in his last battle. 
The problem 
was, Id done the breaking. Id broken his trust, Id betrayed 
him and, for 
the life of me, I couldnt imagine a way to repair that damage. 
I glanced back over my shoulder at Leigh, at his swaying, and a shiver shook me. 
Thank you, Jilandessa. Take good care of him. She nodded in reply, then let me slip 
past and out into the sunlight. 
Finding Nay was easier, and I was pleased to see him in good spirits despite his 
waiting at an aid station for help. He sat on a broken piece of wall with his left leg 
extended before him. His left anlde had been savaged. Blood well stained the bandages 
wrapped around it and had even soaked into his trousers. He held his maul the way an 
old man might hold a cane and smiled at me. 
Kill a sullanciri and youre not hurt? You are a hero, Hawkins. 
Just a survivor, Nay. What happened to you? 
He laughed through pain. Broke gibberers left and right. Had one crawl forward and 
lock his jaws on my ankle. Crushed it. Dont hurt much sitting. 
Theyll fix you up. I glanced back at the blockhouse where Leigh was recuperating. 
Have you seen Leigh yet? 
He nodded solemnly. Hobbled over. Hes going to live. 
So I heard. I glanced down at the ground. They said my seeing him wouldnt help. 
Nay glanced down at the ground. Hes hurt in the head, Hawkins, mixed up and 
afraid. Dont help much Scrainwood sitting with him up there. 
I missed that. Great. I shook my head and turned Tem-mers hilt over in my hands. 
I know I shouldnt have 
Nay struck the ground hard with the butt of his maul. Stop that talk now. You did 
what we needed. Leigh knows it. Told him so; think he heard it. Nay dropped his voice

to a whisper. Back that first day of our Moon Month I prayed for courage. Kedyn gave it 
to me, but when that sullanciri came near, it failed. Trembled and shook, I did; I peed 
myself. 
He laughed and raised his left foot. Only good thing about the bite was it holed my 
boot. No more sloshing around. 
Silver lining to a cloud. 
Nays eyes hardened as he reached out and took the hilt from me. Ida shit myself, 
too, when it come through the gate, but I seen you coming round the corner with 
Temmer. Saw you kill it. Saw the sword break. Been thinking on that and have an idea. 
Why it broke? 
He nodded slowly. Sword was said to break everyone in their last battle. Dont know 
about others, but Leigh, hes broke. He took the blade, hoping to be a hero. For himself 
he took it, so it could break him. You, you took it not for yourself, 
but to save others. It 
had no hold to break you, so it broke. 
A chill ran down my spine. I dont know that youre right, but Id be happy if you are. 
I cant say Im sorry its gone. 
It was a sword. In the right hands it was dangerous. He tilted his head and smiled. 
In the wrong hands it was more dangerous. 
I nodded slowly, then held up a hand to stop him from giving the hilt back to me. 
No, keep it. I dont want it. I dont imagine the blade can be repaired, but even if it 
could, after what I did to Leigh, I dont think Im the man to carry it. 
Well differ over that, but . . . Nay nodded and tucked the hilt through his belt. 
Theyre coming for me now. You did the right thing, Hawkins. Dont doubt it. See you 
later. 
I stood there as two other men came and helped him hobble 
to the aid station, then 
I slipped from the inner city and wandered north through the ruins of the outer city. All 
around me were signs of lifecurs tearing at corpses, ragged men and women looting 
bodies, ravens plucking out eyes. Squads of men moved through the city, gathering up 
bodies and dumping them into piles which were then doused with napthalm and set 
alight. I kept upwind of those pyres as well as I could, for the sweet scent of burning 
flesh made me want to vomit. 
I mounted the stairs and climbed to the top of the battlement 
from which Id shot the 
urZrethi sullanciri. The dragon had landed in the flooded plain there and lay on its left 
side, half submerged. Its head had finally flopped down at an angle, so that water 
lapped at the lower teeth. Its tongue rolled out like a carpet over the right side of its face 
and disappeared in the water. 
Three boys poled a makeshift raft toward it. Dirty water washed over the raft and 
their bare feet. They quarreled among themselves as to what the best way to approach it 
might be, with the smallest insisting loudly that they had to go to the half-open mouth 
because he wanted to crawl inside. The other two, who were larger and larger still, 
exchanged glances, then sent the raft in that direction, with their smaller companion 
eagerly waiting at the front of the raft. 
It struck me, of course, that those three boys could have been Leigh, Nay, and me, all 
off on our grand adventure. We had approached it with the same awe these boys did, 
heedless of the dangers. Wed all accepted the challenge that had been offered to us, not 
realizing there would be a price to pay for it. 
I cupped my hands to my mouth. Hey, you, boys, dont go there. Stay away. You 
could get hurt. 
They turned and looked at me with the sort of contemptuous 
disregard the young 
give elders. You might be afraid, their eyes said, but we are not. We are immortal. 
Luckily for me, and for them, a gibberer corpse chose that moment to bob up in front

of the raft. The smaller boy yelped and leaped back. That knocked the other two into the 
water. All three of them screamed in terror. The two wet ones crawled onto the raft 
again and lay there shivering while the currents coming around the dragon slowly 
pushed them away from it. 
It was a good thing you did that. They might have truly been hurt. 
I spun, then bowed my head. My lord, I didnt hear you approach. 
Lord Norrington smiled and rested his left hand on my right shoulder. You and I 
have stood back-to-back in battle. We have endured much together, and will endure 
more. You shall call me by my given name, Kenwick. 
My mouth open with surprise, I looked up. Thank you, my lord; I mean, Ken I 
cant. 
Lord Norringtons smile shrank to a bemused grin. Why-ever not? 
My father would have my hide off me if he ever heard me address you so familiarly. 
Hed be hurt and . . . 
Lord Norringtons hand squeezed my shoulder. I understand, 
Tarrant. Neither of us 
would ever want to hurt your father. Perhaps, when we are alone, like this, you need not 
be so formal. 
As you wish, Kenwick. I tried his name tentatively and it fit in my mouth without too 
much trouble. I think you grant me this reward too freely, however. 
He crossed his arms over his chest. What do you mean? 
What I did to your son . . . 
His head came up and his eyes narrowed, then he nodded. 
You freed him of a curse, Tarrant, and for that I cannot thank you enough. Ever 
since Atval I have been afraid he would die on this campaign. I know my son is not 
perfect, but I love him nonetheless. That he is hurt does pain me, but the fact that he 
will still hurt rather than burn in a pyre, this makes me very happy. He will heal, Tarrant, 
the Norrington bloodline will continue. Doing what you did preserved our future, so I 
bear you no ill will at all. 
You love him and were afraid for him because of the sword, but you let him fight? 
Lord Norrington nodded, then turned and leaned on a merlon to look to the north. 
My duty to my nation and to the Council of Kingsindeed, my duty to all civilized 
peoples
demanded I field the best forces I could for each battle we faced. With the 
sword, Leigh became the one tool I had to destroy sullanciri. As much as I wanted to 
keep him out of danger, I had to place him in it. I had to hope that the next battle would 
not be his last. 
I hated putting you and Nay in danger the way I did as well, but without the two of 
you, Leigh would not have acted as he did. Do you know that when he ran through the 
woods to summon help for you two and Rounce, I think that was the first selfless thing I 
ever saw Leigh do? Something in him refused 
to surrender as long as you were in 
danger. As much as his feet hurt that night, as much as he was exhausted, I could see 
his concern and pleasure at having acted to save you. In saving you, he took 
responsibility for you, and throughout this campaign that sense of responsibility drove 
him on. 
He glanced sidelong at me as I leaned next to him on the merlon. Someday, Tarrant, 
when you have children of your own, youll see their potential and youll see their 
limitations. Youll want to steer them toward the things you know they can do and youll 
want to shield them from the things they cant. The difficulty is that they wont see things 
the way you do. They wont acknowledge the same potential and problems you see. And 
then, at some point, they will surprise you, going places you never expected. Thats been 
Leigh, here, on this expedition. Though it did not end as well as it might have, he still 
lives and can still realize the new potentials he has.

Another voice broke in, all snarling and harsh. How dare you, Kenwick Norrington, 
deny me my right! Prince Scrainwood stamped his way up onto the battlement, waving 
clenched fists. You have denied me a place in your expedition north. And why? So you 
can take this mongrel who assaulted your son, who assaulted me? 
I frowned. What? 
Lord Norrington placed his right hand on my chest, holding 
me back. You learned 
this how, my Prince? 
Scrainwood waved a hand back toward the tower. Its all over, the gossips have it 
now. Youll be leaving me behind, but youll take Augustus and the others. I asked 
Augustus to demand 
that you take me with you, but he said you had been adamant 
about my being abandoned here. And equally adamant 
about taking Hawkins with you. 
I see. Lord Norringtons words came with a coldness to them that made me shiver. 
There are a couple of things you should remember, Prince Scrainwood. First and 
foremost is that I am truly in command of the expedition to destroy Chy-trine, not you. 
Because of that damned elven prophecy. 
For whatever reason, yes, and do not imagine my experience 
in leading men had a 
small part in that decision. The fact is, Prince Scrainwood, throughout this expedition 
you have done little more than dispatch the wounded or fall off a horse. Now you may 
hire bards to create songs that praise your efforts, 
but you and I and every soldier who 
has watched you flee knows what I say is true. 
The portion of Scrainwoods face that remained unmasked went white. Why that is, 
that is, that is base slander! He pointed a finger at me. Hes filled your head with lies 
about me. I watched him assault your son and steal his sword. I tried to stop him but 
But you failed to do that just as you failed in every other martial endeavor youve 
attempted. Lord Norrington waved away Scrainwoods sputtering. And its not Hawkins 
who has spoken against you, but everyone else. My own son told me what happened in 
the alley, and even his account does you no credit. Your presence costs lives, my Prince, 
and I will not put my people in jeopardy to save you. If you press your suit and do come 
along, you will die. I can all but guarantee that. 
You threaten me, sir. 
No, I merely state realities. Lord Norrington pressed his hands together. You have 
a choice. You can have it said that I left you behind here with the Oriosan Scouts to set 
about the rehabilitation of Fortress Draconis, or I will call together all the armies we have 
here and denounce you as a coward. Moreover, 
as a reward for what has been 
accomplished here, I will demand that your sister is wedded to my son, and that your 
mother should pass you over and let the crown go to Ryhope. And dont think for a 
heartbeat shed not do it. 
Scrainwood staggered back and pressed his hands to his heart. You wouldnt! 
Without hesitation. He turned to me. Fetch me an ar-canslata and a magicker to 
work it. 
No! Stop, Hawkins; go no further. Scrainwoods eyes grew as tight as his voice. So, 
this is the way it will be, then? I remain here and you do not denounce me? 
Lord Norrington nodded. It is more than you deserve, but it does not mean you are 
fully free. If ever I do not like how you rule Oriosa, my memoirs will be distributed and 
you will be discredited. 
Will you press for your son to marry my sister? 
Lord Norrington hesitated for a moment. That is an issue to explore when my son is 
well again. We will discuss it upon my return. 
Scrainwoods lips puckered for a moment, then he nodded. Are you certain you wish 
to play at being a politician like this? 
No, but since you wish to play at being a soldier, I have little choice. Lord

Norrington waved him away. Be gone, my Prince. Annoy someone else. 
Scrainwood clearly did not like being dismissed, but he withdrew. He spared me a last 
glare, but I met it with expressionless 
silence. The last I saw of him the smoke from a 
pyre had settled over him as he stomped off. 
Lord Norrington smiled as he turned back toward me. Well, as you have heard, we 
will be sending a force north to chase down Chytrine. We will leave in the morning. I 
want you with me. Seethe, Faryaah-Tse Kimp, and some of the others will be going 
along. 
Nay, too? 
No, Im afraid he cannot go. He sighed. Nay will have magick used to heal his leg. 
If Chytrine were to employ the spell that canceled the healings while we were in Aurolan, 
we could do nothing for her victims. Were making our force out of people whose 
wounds were so minor they did not require magick to heal. The rest will remain here 
and serve as part of the garrison, or will be sent back home. Nay will end up back in 
Valsina. 
Youll be sending him with Leigh? 
Yes. 
I nodded. How did Chytrine cast that spell? 
He shrugged. There are many things about magick I dont understand. All spells, 
apparently, are akin to knots in ropes. If you know how it was tied, it is easy to untie. 
Some knots are very complex and therefore hard to undo, but healing spells are 
relatively simple so many people can master them. It may take years to do so, of course, 
but Chytrine has had those years and then some. The magickers are convinced the 
scholars at Vilwan can devise new healing spells she cant undo, but that will take time. 
Time we dont have if we want to catch her. 
Unfortunately. 
I nodded, then hooked my thumbs in my belt. If were leaving tomorrow, Id best 
run and make preparations. 
Good idea, but it can wait a bit. Lord Norrington pointed off toward the tower. 
Your brother Sallitt came up with the Scouts. I thought you might like to see him before 
we left, so I have arranged for you to share dinner. 
You will join us? 
No. I would love to, but while you spend time with your family, I will spend time 
with mine. He pointed a hand idly toward the north. Get your fill of warm memories, 
Tarrant, because, out there, they will be few and very far between. 
I was a bit nervous about meeting my brother, and Im not sure why. I went back to 
my room in the tower and washed up, then changed into the sort of light clothes Cavarre 
favored. 
I knew that Id not have a chance to wear such things on the road and, 
somehow, putting on things that had nothing 
to do with warfare helped convince me 
that Chytrines force really had been broken. 
My apprehension at seeing my brother spiked when I found him waiting outside the 
dining hall in the tower with some of the other Oriosan Scouts. Sallitt looked at me a bit 
uncertainly, then he cracked a big smile when one of his mates shoved him forward. We 
hugged each other, slapped each others back, then he introduced me to his friends. I 
promptly forgot all of their names, but it didnt matter since they excused 
themselves 
and left the two of us to get food and find a quiet tableof which there were too many 
because of the casualties caused by the siege. 
Sal looked tired, which made sense since the Scouts had been marching hard for the 
better part of a month. Still, his hazel eyes remained bright and the sort of animation I 
was used to returned as we talked. And when word came through who was leading the 
expedition, well, Fathers chest swelled fair to bursting. He knew Leigh and you would be

along, too, and it was all we could do to get him to remain as Peaceward instead of 
forming up his own militia company and coming north with us. 
I smiled. It would have been grand to see him here. 
It would have. My brother reached over and patted my left hand. Youll be seeing 
him soon enough when you go back with Leigh. 
I shook my head. Im going north with Lord Norrington. Nay will go back with 
Leigh. 
Sal could tell, given my flat tone of voice, that there was some hardship there, but he 
didnt press. Were being assigned 
to garrison duty here for a bit, under Prince 
Scrainwood. 
Do yourself a favor, Sal, and dont let him know youre my brother. Or, if he finds 
out, tell him youve never liked me. 
What? Sal laughed aloud. Not like you? Youre a hero. You dont know it, but when 
we arrived, Captain Cross called me by name and all sorts of folks started cheering for 
me. They thought I was you, and just the mention of the Hawkins name was enough to 
put a smile on their faces. What could the Prince have against you? 
I almost told him the truth. Fact is, Sal, we never got along. Im just a country 
bumpkin to himnot even noble. Just avoid him, please. 
My brother studied me for a bit, then nodded. Youve grown up a lot, Tarrant and 
Im proud of you for that. 
Thanks. 
We passed the rest of the dinner in conversations that covered 
subjects a bit more 
trivial than Princes and wars. I did take some ribbing over having an elf for a lover, but 
Sal told me hed been paying court to two women in Valsina, so we moved quickly away 
from love lives to other subjects. He told me a lot of stories about the Scouts and their 
time on the road, which had me laughing. I was grateful for his tales because 
that 
meant I didnt have to share too much of my experiences
none of which really would 
encourage laughter. 
After dinner we parted and I returned to my room. I packed up all my equipment and 
had it ready to go. It took me the longest time to tie the blanket Leigh had given me into 
a bundle. Part of me figured I didnt deserve it, but another part refused to leave it 
behind. Once Id gotten the things all together, 
a porter came around to take them 
away. He also carried 
my longknives off to have new edges put on them. 
From there I went to Seethes room and we spent the evening 
in luxurious abandon, 
as if the next morning would never come. We bathed together, then returned to her 
room and engaged in long, slow lovemaking by the light of a constellation 
of candles. 
Though I think we both felt some urgency, 
we shunted it aside and made every 
moment last as long as we could. I remember the golden glow of candlelight on her 
body, her strength as she moved against me and with me and the sweet warmth of her 
whispered words. Our fingers intertwined as did our bodies, and I knew that any time I 
held her hand I would be carried back to that night. 
We woke with the dawn, dressed, ate, and joined the other members of the command 
company in the courtyard before the tower. Well-wishers had gathered there to see us 
go. Dothan Cavarre left off his study of Chytrines captured dragonel to bid us farewell. 
He gave Lord Norrington a silver flask filled with a fine brandy. To me he presented a 
quiver of thirty arrows with wide broadheads that had been washed in silver. The size of 
the head should make killing shots on temeryces easier, I think, Hawkins. Good hunting 
to you. 
Thank you. I tied the quiver to my saddle and slipped my bow into the scabbard. I 
was about to haul myself into the saddle when I noticed that while my longknives hung 
from the belt looped over the saddle pommel, there was no sword attached 
to it. I

frowned and was about to complain when a voice stopped me. 
Missing something, Hawkins? 
I turned and smiled as Nay walked over to me. He held out a scabbarded blade that I 
knew wasnt the one Id tossed away. I also knew it wasnt Temmer. Whats this? 
Nay gave me a weak grin. Made a promise at the bridge, but never made good on it. 
Ill be going back, you know, with Leigh. I have a favor to ask you. Take Tsamoc here. 
This blade wont fail you. 
I accepted the sword and slid it from the scabbard slowly and a bit apprehensively. 
There, incorporated in the blade itself, lay the keystone that had been Tsamocs heart. 
Little lights moved through it and I knew magick resided there, but I didnt feel the way I 
did when I wielded Temmer. The blade had been reinforced around the stone and I had 
no fears of it breaking. The crossguard and pommel repeated the keystone design in 
brass. Leather wrapped the hilt, and I knew the blade would stay with me even if both 
hands were drenched in pig fat and numb from the cold. 
I resheathed the sword, and swallowed past the lump in my throat. You take good 
care of Leigh, and Ill take care of Tsamoc. 
Nay nodded. Thats a fair bargain. He gave me a half grin, then clapped me on the 
shoulders. That night, when we first met, you were the one I figured to be the best of 
us. Didnt think Leigh would end up this way. Didnt think Id get this far. You I figured 
for great things. Glad to know that judgment was right. 
I shook my head. We have done great things, Giant-slayer, all of us. Thats what will 
be remembered, not me. 
Nay steadied my horse as I mounted up, then slapped me on the leg. When you 
come back to Valsina, find me. Tell me how Tsamoc fared and how Chytrine died. 
Another fair bargain. I shook his hand, then reined my horse about and trotted him 
after the others exiting the courtyard. 
As we moved into the inner city, people cheered 
us from the roadside, doorways, rooftops, and windows. They cheered as if we were a 
conquering army returning from victory, not heading out to chase down an enemy. What 
struck me as even odder was that their enthusiasm mocked the black ruins of the outer 
city and the body-strewn fields beyond. Intoxicated with their survival, they cheered us 
off on a task that would result in more death. 
But it is not their deaths. 
I shrugged my shoulders, gave my horse a touch of spur, and rode out of Fortress 
Draconis at Seethes side. I wanted to look back, to see if Leigh stood in a window and 
watched us depart, but I refrained for fear of what I might see on his face. Instead I just 
imagined him sitting on the bridge in the tower garden, studying a riverbed that carried 
no water, beginning to heal. 
Bards who have sung of this second expedition have immortalized 
the command 
company in countless songs. Of Lord Norrington, Seethe, Faryaah-Tse Kimp, and Prince 
Augustus 
I have written much. Winfellis, the Croquelf magicker whod been with us 
from the start, also came along. The others 
were heroes in their own right and had not 
participated in our earlier adventure because they had been occupied elsewhere. 
Duke Brencis Galacos had been at Fortress Draconis serving 
with the Jeranese Crown 
Guards who were just finishing their deployment when Chytrine invaded. The Crown 
Guards had taken heavy casualties in the first days fighting by the southern breach, but 
the white-haired warrior had pulled them back in good order and prevented the 
slaughter of more of his people. Bringing him along not only gave us a good tactician, 
but honored the sacrifice his warriors had made at the fortress. 
Lady Jeturna Costasi of Viarca was something of a soldier of fortune. She had led her 
familys house guard unit out against the gibberers that had made it into Viarca, much as 
Lord Norrington had done. She chased them north into Nybal, where she joined forces

with a Nybali Warden and rode for Fortress Draconis. They hooked up with our 
reinforcements 
on the road and were ready to go after Chytrine. 
Aren Asvaldget was the Nybali Warden who had ridden with Lady Jeturna. Smaller 
than me and lean, with long blond hair and blue eyes, Aren reminded me a lot of a wolf, 
and it wasnt just because wolf pelts had been used to make his cloak. He was a shaman, 
which I gathered was to a Vilwanese magicker what a street-brawler was to a trained 
warrior. His chief asset, aside from his quick laugh, was a very good knowledge 
of the 
northlands and a lot of smarts concerning plants and healing. I saw him as taking over 
one of Nays roles in our company. 
The last two members of the company often get short shrift in the songs, and I cant 
say that I imagine its something 
they find discomfiting, all things considered. Drugi 
Oldach was a warrior from far Valsogon who had taken up residence in Fortress Draconis 
after a stint of hiring on there as a mercenary. From his base in the outer city he would 
head out north and spend much of the year trapping animals, prospecting 
for gold, or 
hunting up rare plants for drying and shipping south. He claimed to be only forty-five 
years old, but his white hair and leathery skin suggested to me he just couldnt count 
past forty-five and had long since given up trying to learn how. He favored a 
double-bitted ax and had enough gibberer fur worked into his cloak and patching his 
clothes that I figured he knew how to use it to his advantage. 
Edamis Vilkaso was a golden-haired warrior up all the way from Naliserro. Shed 
actually led the squad of Nalesk cavalry that charged out of the fortress and took 
Chytrines dragonel. They held it despite opposition. What prompted Lord Nor-rington to 
invite her along was the fact that shed been smart enough to figure out that the 
dragonel was likely the most valuable artifact of the invasion. That was something the 
other commanders had overlookedtheyd reverted to old ways of thinking when the 
dragonel stopped shooting and the gibber-ers broke. She made good use of forethought, 
and there was no doubt in my mind wed have ample need of it on our expedition. 
For troops we took three units: Muroson Heavy Guards, Sebcian Light Foot, and a 
cavalry unit cobbled together from those who had traveled with us all the way and others 
at Fortress Draconis. They were designated the Draconis Lancers and bore shields hastily 
emblazoned with a lance that looked remarkably like the Crown Tower. Prince Augustus 
led them, giving us a total force of roughly a thousand foot soldiers and five hundred 
cavalry. Another three hundred people came with our supplies, which consisted of forty 
wagons and over a thousand horses. 
The sun broke through clouds to warm us as we marched north. Most took that as a 
good omen. I guess I did too, at the time. 
Now I just remember it was the last time I felt anything but cold. 
As difficult as our expedition had been so far, the trek north made it seem like a 
childs garden romp. The distance to the pass in the Boreal Mountains was not far, and 
Fortress Draconis yielded an abundance of food, supplies, and cold-weather gear. We 
should have been able to make the journey in half a week or so. And yet, at that point, 
only five days out, we were only halfway to our goal. 
I do recall turning in my saddle and looking back at Fortress 
Draconis as we rode 
from it. The outer town formed a charcoal ring around the inner city. The needle that 
had killed the dragon gleamed in the sunlight. Teams of men swarmed over the dragon, 
taking it to pieces. While I knew Cavarre had ordered its dissection so he could 
understand it, from this distance the butchers had the look of insects feeding on a 
corpse. 
North we headed, constantly on alert. This is where our previous experience served us 
well, as we took precautions against ambushes. When we neared any likely place, squads 
of men spread out and moved through the forests to sweep them of Aurolani forces. We

uncovered and dispersed a number of ambushes set to kill Lord Norrington and our 
other leaders. Ruining Chytrines plans heartened all of us greatly. 
Chytrine did learn, however. As we sent squads out, other hidden gibberer groups 
ambushed them, slowing us further. The fighting grew fierce in some spots, but the 
gibberers always 
ended up being overwhelmed. The problem with engagements 
deep 
in the woods was that our cavalry couldnt be employed well, nor could our archers. It 
was simple cut-and-crush warfare, to which our men took just fine, but deploying men, 
recovering the wounded, and getting everyone moving again cut our expected rate of 
advance. 
By midday a half a week out of Fortress Draconis, the weather had turned bitter, with 
a cold wind bringing snow from the north. Ahead of us lay the pass. We could reach it 
by weeks-end, but now we could barely see it. Clouds shrouded the dulled rock fangs, 
and white snow covered all the slopes we could see. If the snow let up, it was possible 
we could still sneak through the pass. If it snowed after that, however, wed have five 
long months of winter to survive before we could return south. 
Chytrine forced us to make a decision at that point, one that turned out to be as 
fateful as any we had faced so far. Our scouts found ample evidence that the bulk of her 
army had set off west into the Ghost Marches. Prince Augustus and Lord Norrington 
immediately realized she had sent her army in that direction to draw us off. Her troops 
might be able to make it to Okrannel and link up with the army that had been left behind 
there. That put Jerana in jeopardy, not to mention all the people living in the Ghost 
Marches. 
At the same time we found evidence that Chytrine and her entourage continued north. 
If we went after her, we might or might not make it in time to catch and kill her. No one 
doubted she was the greater evil, and that her death would render the known world safe 
for a long time. Regardless of our success in getting her, the Aurolani army would still 
be operating 
at our rear. They could sweep back and trap us against the Boreal 
Mountains; they could again assault Fortress Draconis or campaign in Okrannel. As long 
as they were out there, people would die. 
It was that realization that prompted Lord Norrington to split our main force off under 
Prince Augustus command. Riders were sent back to Fortress Draconis with orders to 
bring the Oriosan Scoutsalbeit without Prince Scrain-woodand our fleet and land 
them in the Ghost Marches. As many popular songs have chronicled the Ghost 
Campaign, I need not detail it here. None of the songs I have heard could ever 
exaggerate the heroic effort Prince Augustus and his command 
exerted to track down 
and destroy the Aurolani host. They fought their way from the Durgrue River to the 
Jerana border. The fact that along the way he managed to win himself a wife and save 
the Okrans refugees who now have communities 
in civilized cities everywhere merely 
speaks to his courage and intelligence. 
The rest of us, what had become known as the command company, were to head 
north with all possible speed to catch Chytrine and kill her. The ten of us drew two extra 
horses apiece and ample supplies to see us through a month of travels. 
We all joked 
that we would be able to eat well since we expected to return not a week hence and ride 
to join up with Augustus. Those who were heading west abetted us in this joke, since all 
of us knew that chances were wed never return. 
It can seem self-serving for me to say that, especially since I did survive, but 
AugustusKing Augustus, nowcan attest to this fact. In fact, it was he who 
approached me the eve before we left the main group. The command company had all 
assembled around a vast bonfire and was eating boiled beans and salt pork when 
Augustus leaned forward and pointed a fork at Lord Norrington. 
My lord, there is only one more thing I wish you would grant me for my campaign.

Lord Norrington barely looked up from his plate. And that is, Prince Augustus? 
We know the Aurolani warriors are a sullen and stupid lot, given to panic and 
breaking in terror. Augustus eyes narrowed and he glanced at me. I would like to have 
with me a SM/iflrin-slayer. Give me your aide, young Hawkins here. His presence alone 
would be worth another battalion of men. 
Lord Norrington nodded. Your reasoning is sound, Prince Augustus. 
My hands were trembling as I set my plate down. Dont do this, my lord, dont send 
me away. 
Lord Norrington looked up and fixed me with a compassionate 
stare. You think I am 
willing to send you away because 
what we are going to do will likely result in our 
deaths, dont you? You think I wish to spare you that pain, to preserve your life. 
Yes, Lord Norrington. 
Youre wrong, Hawkins. He looked around the circle, past the leaping flames that 
hissed and snapped. The others had stopped eating and regarded us carefully. I 
remember Drugi wiping food from his white beard with the back of his hand, watching 
me to see how I was reacting. All of them knew Lord Norrington was, in fact, attempting 
to save my life, and they seemed ready and willing to aid him in that effort. 
Youre wrong, Hawkins, because the battles Prince Augustus 
will fight could just as 
easily destroy you as any we will engage in. You will not be spared hazardous duty. You 
will be there, fighting along with the others. You will be spared noth-ing. 
I stood slowly, fighting to hold back tears. Respectfully, my lord, I submit you are 
wrong. I will be spared a chance to put an end to the evil that has taken over my life. 
You cannot have forgotten how, on the first night I wore a moonmask, I slew a temeryx 
to save a friendonly to find his life had been ruined by the beast. My family, back in 
Valsina, thrills to tales of this expedition, but I know fear gnaws at them, the same way it 
gnaws at each of us. Friends have died because of Chytrine, 
and friends have been 
broken, and the whole of my adult life has been centered around stopping her. While 
what Prince Augustus sets out to do is right and necessary to blunt her evil, what you 
will do will be the thing that puts an end to it. If I go with him and, somehow, you fail, I 
will know it was because I was not there. 
Lord Norringtons eyes narrowed. And what if we all fail, Hawkins? What if the cold 
kills us? What if we never find her and are trapped in the mountains, waiting to starve? 
There are a thousand ways we can fail. Those of us who are going have lived our lives 
and can assess the risks. We know what we are doing. You do not. 
I raised my chin. I tell you, my lord, that in the last months I have lived a lifetime as 
well. I know the risks. There may be a thousand ways the effort can fail, but the 
thousand and first would be to leave me behind. Narrow the odds at least that much. 
Lord Norrington stared into the fire for a while, then looked over at Prince Augustus. 
I thank you, my friend, for your asking after Hawkins. I apologize for putting you up to 
that. 
Augustus nodded once. It was my pleasure to help you. And, Hawkins, know that 
what I said concerning you was the truth. I would gladly have you beside me. 
Lord Norrington smiled, then looked around the circle again. I should have known 
better than to ask what I did, and I apologize to all of you for this public display. Tarrant 
Hawkins 
here is someone I have known since before he could walk. Among us, as you 
may know, when a youth receives his first adult masklike the one he wears nowit is 
customary for friends to offer gifts. I offered him the choice of anything it was my ability 
to grant. Hawkins here asked for only one thing: my trust. I gave it to him and now 
reaffirm it. It is my hope you will join me in that trust, for he is very much a worthy 
companion on this quest of ours. 
Those gathered at the fire, those who would brave Aurolan, grumbled and nodded

their assent, then went back to eating. Occasionally one or the other of them would look 
at me and nod, not the nod of an elder indulging a child, but the nod of a peer to a peer. 
In that fire burned any doubts they may have had about me. 
Over the years I have had time to reflect on that incident. I do not yet know if Lord 
Norrington meant truly to offer me a chance to escape, or if he wanted a way for me to 
show the others that I was as committed to the quest as they were. Perhaps it was a bit 
of both, but the core of it came down to his letting me take responsibility for my own 
life. 
Had I, at that point, come to believe my own legend? It was easy to be humble in 
such heroic company, but their easy acceptance of me did let me believe I deserved to 
be there. I did believe my role would be critical in hunting down Chy-trine, though never 
would I have expected my role to be warped the way it was. And while I will not say 
there are not days when I wish I had gone with Augustus, I do believe the choice made 
at that fire was the right one, despite everything that flowed from it. 
Leavetaking that next morning was full of cheers and hearty brags. A thousand locks 
of Chytrines hair were promised 
that morning, I figure, and twice that number of sword 
cuts to her heart. Im sure most of them saw us as riding off to reap glory, but by the 
same token, I dont think but a handful of them would have come along with us if 
offered the chance. 
It took us three days to reach the pass. Life settled into an easy routine during that 
time, and the falling snow softened the landscape so effectively that it was almost 
possible to forget 
the business we were about. The snow brought with it a silence that 
made every forested stretch we rode through into a peaceful temple. I let myself think 
about the good times in my past and project them forward, seeing myself with Seethe at 
my side. In those moments I did not doubt my ability to survive and, rather foolishly, I 
assumed that if / could survive, all of us would. 
Because of the snow we did not push on as hard as we might. While I was used to 
winters in Oriosa and dealing with snow, Drugi and Aren taught me a great deal about 
surviving in the colder north. Some things were simple, like learning not to build a fire 
beneath snow-laden branches, since the snow, when warmed by the fire, would fall into 
it and smother it. They also showed me how to read tracks in the snow, and we all 
rejoiced that there were no temeryx tracks for me to learn from. 
Other things were more important. We melted snow for water and had to stir so it 
wouldnt scorch. More importantly, we never ate snow and, as much as possible, drank 
only teas or water that had been heated. Toward that end we kept water-skins between 
our coats and us, letting our bodies warm the water. Cold water would chill us and, 
given our circumstances, that would kill us, too. 
At night we slept two to a tent, sharing body heat beneath thick blankets and skins. 
Drugi showed us how to make shelters 
of snow, so we often built a wall to the 
windward side of our tents. Seethe and I shared a tent. We were more than companions 
but less than lovers. Though we huddled together, 
our naked bodies pressed tightly to 
each other, we did not make love. It really wasnt necessarywe had each other and that 
was more than enough. We slept in each others arms, woke to warm and heartfelt 
greetings, and then rejoined our other companions to continue our journey. 
At noon on the third day, as we crested a hill, Lord Nor-rington called a halt. The 
skies had cleared and ahead of us, barely a half-days ride away, lay the pass. Snow 
blurred details of the pass steep sides, but could not erase the impression that the 
mountains had been cloven with a giant ax. Snow filled the pass, and even though we 
could see everything very clearly, we caught no sign of Chytrine. 
Either shes already made it through, or she got buried in it. Drugi nipped off a piece 
of dried beef and tucked it inside his left cheek. He pointed the rest of the beef stick

toward the pass. Could be a snowtide caught her. 
Lord Norringtons breath came white through the green wool of his scarf. Doesnt 
matter what she did, as long as she didnt turn back. The question is, can we make it 
through? 
Aren Asvaldget tossed back his wolfs-head hood and looked north. Snowtide might 
have let her pass, but it would get us. See the wind curling snow out into ledges to the 
east there? Those come down and theyll never find us. 
Drugi nodded his agreement. 
Lord Norrington reined his horse around. Faryaah-Tse, the mountains forming the 
eastern side of the pass are part of Boragul, arent they? 
The diminutive urZrethi nodded. The advent of cooler weather was what drove 
urZrethi south long ago. Boragul was abandoned. 
Abandoned completely? Theres no one in there? 
Drugi shook his head. Ive seen sign in them mountains. Something lives there. 
Faryaah-Tse held up a hand. By abandoned I mean that those who could or were 
brave enough left and went south. Those who were left behind were of no consequence. 
I do not know if they have died out. 
Are there ways through Boragul? Lord Norrington patted 
his horse on the neck. 
Could Chytrine have used Boragul to return north, or to bring reinforcements south? 
The urZrethi sat back in the saddle, bringing her left leg up and laying her shin across 
the horses shoulders. There are ways through Boragul, unless they have collapsed 
because of age. I would imagine we can even find an entrance. As for Chytrine and her 
use of Boragul, I do not know. 
She hesitated for a moment, then plunged into an explanation. 
You men, you think 
of the urZrethi or elves as all being the same. I shall confess to you that men often seem 
the same to me. However, you all come from different nations and have different 
customs. Would it surprise you to know a man of Valsogon who knew nothing of 
Oriosa? So it is with us. I come from Tsagul. We reached furthest south in the invasion 
and are proud of that. For those left behind we have little concern. 
I understand, and do not consider your lack of knowledge a flaw. Lord Norrington 
opened his arms. Our choices, then, are this: we turn back now, or we go forward and 
seek to enter Boragul. We will see if we can travel north from there and, if there are any 
urZrethi still living there, we shall determine 
if they know of Chytrines fate. I am for 
pushing on, but I shall abide by the wishes of the majority. 
No one dissented and so, with Faryaah-Tse Kimp leading us, we rode forward toward 
the destiny that would consume us all. 
Faryaah-Tses trail took us east for an hour and then north toward Boragul, along the 
banks of a stream that gurgled beneath snow and ice. Ahead of us lay a deep, narrow 
canyon 
that had its southern face exposed to the sun. Whatever snow had been 
deposited there had long since melted to fill the stream beside which we rode. As 
nightfall approached, we came to the mouth of the canyon. 
We have to stop here. The urZrethi turned in her saddle and held up a hand. You 
can go no further for the moment. 
Drugi pulled down his grey scarf and spat. Theres no entrance to nothing in there. 
Ive been in there afore and seen nothing. 
This surprises me not at all. Faryaah-Tse tossed the reins of her horse to me, then 
tugged off her boots. Before any of us could question what she was doing, her feet 
broadened out into a spoon shape and her legs lengthened so she didnt have to hop 
down off the horse. She stood up and the snow supported 
her. She crunched her way 
to a standing stone on the west side of the canyon mouth, touched it, then walked over 
to one on the east side and touched that one, too. Then she returned to the center of the

canyon and waved us forward. 
I saw nothing different until I reached the line linking the two stones. As I passed 
through it a light dazzled me, almost as if the setting sun had risen again and left me 
snowblind. I felt my stomach roil and tasted my luncheon broth again, but choked it 
back down. When I looked around I saw much of the same little canyon I had before, 
but toward the back, down somewhat low, it curved to the west. 
Faryaah-Tse took the reins from me and led her horse on foot. Not far now. 
Drugi kind of hunkered down in his saddle as he looked around. Ive not seen this 
before, and I was here. 
The urZrethi looked at him. You were not meant to see this, Drugi Oldach. No man 
was, nor elf. This was meant for urZrethi eyes alone. 
As we came around the corner and could see into the western branch, my breath 
caught in my throat. There, not a hundred yards off, stood a massive stone portal carved 
out of the rock. It was round, and water that had dripped down from above coated the 
rim in ice. The circular portals edge had been carved from the living rock and worked 
with odd runes and sigils. The door itself, which appeared to be a big round slab of 
black rock, was recessed several feet. Broad steps led up to the platform before the door. 
But more impressive than the portal itself were the paired statues beside it. They 
showed two female figures, naked, kneeling. Instead of arms they had wings and had 
raised them high above their heads, as if trying to touch the sun. The figures looked 
serene and powerful. 
Who are they? 
Faryaah-Tse turned at my question. There is a myth among the urZrethi that the 
truly powerful and complete urZrethi 
will be able to assume a shape that will permit 
flight. It has less to do with the size of the wings than the nature of the spirit that will 
allow the person to soar. It is perhaps not unexpected that those who dwell largely 
within the earth wish to fly. 
I slowly nodded and wondered to myself if this myth did not also explain why the 
urZrethi courted the wrath of the elves when they created Gyrvirgul as a home for the 
Gyrkyme. 
As much as the elves saw the Gyrkyme as bestial abominations, 
perhaps the urZrethi 
saw them as an embodiment of their dream. Regardless, even Winfellis seemed to be 
rendered breathless by the statues beauty. 
We rode in solemn silence to the portal. Lord Norrington dismounted and, along with 
Faryaah-Tse, mounted the steps. The urZrethi studied the runes around the portal, which 
had a diameter of at least a dozen feet, then shucked a glove and extended an arm up to 
touch the archs keystone. Both of them stepped back as a grinding started from within, 
then slowly the black doorstone rolled to the left and warm air gushed out to wash over 
us. 
The warmth was welcome, but the scent was not. Part musty and a bit sharp, it 
reminded me of a barn that had not been mucked out recently enough. I suppose I 
should have taken the sharp scent as a good sign, since that meant there were living 
creatures about. I would have, too, I think, but the Boragul urZrethi quickly showed 
themselves. 
Four of them came hobbling out. Their flesh varied between 
the yellow of old bones 
and the white-grey of cold ash. Some had mismatched feet, others had a spare joint in a 
leg, and one even had a second, smaller pair of arms sprouting from its waist. They all 
seemed to be female, or at least, some of them had breasts, though too many had an 
odd number. Their eyes usually rested on either side of their noses and often lined up 
with each other, which couldnt be said of their earsin the case of those who had any. 
That they were misshapen was patently obvious to anyone who cared to look, for

their ratty clothes barely covered them. Still, it took me a second or two to figure out 
what the problem 
really was. I recalled Faryaah-Tse mentioning that changing 
shape 
was tiring and consumed energy. To me they all looked underfed, so I suspected they 
had become stuck between 
changes. 
One, bearing a rusty spear and what once might have been a round shield, stepped 
forward to challenge us. Who dares open the way to Boragul? 
Faryaah-Tse swept her stick-thin yellow arm out and pressed her hand to her breast. 
I do. I am Faryaah-Tse Kimp, come far from Tsagul. I ask for me and my companions 
the hospitality of Boragul. 
Though the lead urZrethi gave no sign of being impressed by Faryaah-Tse, his trio of 
seconds began to quake. They studied 
her legs and right arm, then their eyes grew 
wide as she shrank her arm down to fill her sleeve and match the other arm. They 
watched her, then pointed to the sky and jabbered among themselves. 
The leader whirled around and smacked one of them on the back of the head with the 
haft of her spear. Be quiet. Still your tongues or theyll be shrunk in your heads. This is 
a matter for the queen. 
The leader came back around and stumbled for a step, then righted herself. The 
queen will decide. Follow. 
We dismounted and led our horses into the heart of the mountain. Seethe gasped and 
pressed her hand to her throat as she looked about. I could see little, as shadows 
shrouded what must have been tall galleries with high arches and intricate 
carvings 
worked throughout, but even what I saw down low impressed me: friezes of battles so 
intricately carved that the figures in them seemed to shift position as we moved along. 
From every corner and recess a playful face grinned or a warrior scowled. I saw statues 
representing urZrethi as normally 
shaped as Faryaah-Tse and yet others mutated into 
forms suited to combat or mining or any of countless other occupations. 
Other things in the halls of Boragul did not impress and, in fact, prompted pity, 
surprise, and anger. The halls could not be described as anything but filthy. Half-gnawed 
bones and shards of broken crockery lined the walkways. Feathers and dust and hair all 
rolled together into little balls that trailed in our wake. Flies hovered over mounds of 
offal, and likewise circled piles of dung. Mangy curs snarled from the darkness and feral 
catseasily spotted by the glow in their eyesspat hisses. Bird guano stained statues 
and streaked the floor, while somewhere in the darkness above I heard the leather flap 
of bats wings. 
I wondered for a moment at the feathers and bird droppings, 
then got the shock of 
my life as miniature temeryces came trotting out in a pack to pace beside us. I dropped a 
hand to Tsamocs hilt and would have drawn the blade, but our guide reached out with a 
hand and chuckled one under the chin. The little creature, which had a uniform color 
matching the brown of a bruised mushroom, tootled contentedly 
at this treatment. 
Our guide led us along through series of halls, twisting and turning through smaller 
ones where I could almost make out the ceiling, then back into larger, more grand ones. 
It did become apparent that as we headed toward wherever the queen made her lair, 
things seemed cleaner and were even better lit. Even so, I still maintained the impression 
that garbage 
was merely hauled to the nearest convenient passage that saw little use. 
The increased lighting allowed me to see what Seethe had looked at before. In the 
hallways the urZrethi had worked massive mosaics that displayed grand battles, scenes 
from romances 
and history, and even myths such as the progression of urZrethi from 
their earliest form up to taking flight. Each tiny piece of the mosaics seemed to be made 
of gemstones, with any small portion of it being enough to allow a man to live well for 
decades. Even as that thought came to me, though, I couldnt imagine despoiling such 
beauty.

Finally we reached another round portal that glowed with golden light. A number of 
urZrethi accepted the reins of our horses and led them off while we advanced to the 
queens throne room. I refer to it as a room because thats what the round chamber was, 
though once inside it was easy to forget that fact. 
The first thing I noticed was the sheer amount of gold present. There was no area 
that was not gilded, no flat surface that did not have piled on it a golden urn or statuette 
or have golden mail draped over it. Even the throne, which had the aspect of being a 
giant egg with one side carved out, had been layered in gold and encrusted with 
gemstones. Gold velvet pillows filled it. 
The second inescapable aspect of the room was how a bird theme tied everything 
together. The walls, from floor to the top of the wainscoting, had been covered with a 
screen of golden twigs and branches. Theyd been fashioned well above life-size, but 
woven together the way a bird might interlace them to form a nest. It even widened at 
the base to suggest the bowl of a nest, and the gold inlay on the floor continued this 
theme. Above, hanging down from the ceiling on nearly invisible 
wires were golden 
leaves, and above them were stars and the moon and sun. Feather patterns covered rugs 
and pillows, while the statuary and other appointments were birds, had birds on them, 
or touched on some other bird attribute. 
Even the gown the queen wore was made of cloth of gold and embroidered with 
birds. It took me a moment or two to recognize that fact, however, because where her 
sleeves ended I could see arms covered with feathers. They matched the grey of her face 
and other exposed flesh, so I assumed they were part of her. She had none of the 
dignity or bearing of the Gyrkyme I had seen in Okrannel and Fortress Draconis, but she 
did have feathers. 
Our guide ran forward and slid to an uneven stop on her knees at the foot of the 
throne. She spoke quickly to the queen, who answered with a sharp, crowlike caw! Our 
guide recoiled, then spun herself about and knelt with head pressed to the floor as the 
Queen stood. 
I am Tzindr-Coraxoc Vlay, Queen of Boragul. The queen, who stooped at the 
shoulders and had a figure like a brandy cask, glanced at our guide. I have been told 
that you, one of the outcasts who resides in Tsagul, has asked for our hospitality. 
Faryaah-Tse stiffened with the word outcast, but merely bowed her head. The 
generosity of Boragul and its queen is well known, even in far Tsagul, though we 
tremble so at your greatness that we dare not speak your name. 
Tzindr-Coraxoc seemed mollified by that comment. I shall consider your petition. For 
now I will grant you an abode. You are bound on your word to remain there until 
summoned. 
Faryaah-Tse nodded. It shall be as you wish. 
The queen snapped an order at our guide, who immediately 
herded us back out of 
the throne room and led us down a dark corridor. We mounted a wide stairway and 
went up several flights, then were pointed to a round doorway. You will wait within. 
Faryaah-Tse led us into the doorway which, on the other side, broadened and grew 
into a round tunnel perhaps ten yards in length. A stripe down the center of the ceiling 
began to glow a yellow-orange, providing me with enough light to see the images 
painted on the walls. They reminded me of the ancestral statues in Alcida and I assumed 
they were all of a family. Despite my being unable to read urZrethi runes, I did notice 
the repetition of a pattern that I took to represent the surname of those depicted. 
The portraits, despite the grime and spiderwebs covering them, were quite heroic, 
showing people with enemies crushed underfoot or flowers growing around them with 
the blossoms facing them as they might face the sun. Flesh color varied on all of them, 
and the light was not the best for picking 
it out, but most of them did seem to be very

similar to Faryaah-Tse in skin tone. 
The tunnel ended in a curious chamber made of two spheres linked like soap bubbles 
in the middle. The entry sphere was big and featured a large hearth to the immediate left 
of the entryway. A ring of glowing panels surrounded the room beyond my head height, 
passing just above the circular portal that marked the intersection of the two spheres. A 
flat floor made of set stones cut the bottom off both spheres, but the floor level of the 
second one was a good three feet higher than that of the entry sphere. Both spheres had 
round portals that led off into side rooms and the painted designs in both had 
representations of flowers and animalsincluding but not limited to birdswoven 
together in intricate braids of legs, tails, and bodies. Following any one line was a 
hypnotic pursuit that could have occupied me for hours. 
Faryaah-Tse moved to the center of the entry sphere and stones in the hearth began a 
soft red glowing that pulsed out heat. She smiled, that warm, familiar sort of smile that 
comes from fond memories or unexpected discoveries. She held her hands out toward 
the hearth, then nodded to the rest of us. 
Welcome home. 
WpH snrpaH throughout the room and started to strip off our heavy winter clothing. 
Lord Norrington unfastened his woolen cloak and shook off droplets of melted snow. 
You say home as if you recognize this place. 
More that it recognizes me. She turned and silhouetted herself against the hearths 
growing glow. There were magicks worked into this chamber a long time ago, magicks 
that would be triggered in the presence of one of the Kimp bloodline. When we left ten 
generations ago to head south, we never expected to returnor so I am told. That the 
queen has placed us in this chamber either is a sign of respect, or she mocks me for 
being a pureblood returning. 
Brencis Galacos stroked his white goatee. Pureblood? 
Faryaah-Tse hesitated for a moment, then turned and stared into the hearth. The 
urZrethi do not approach life as do men or elves. This place we have been given is called 
a cork. Here the matriarch of a family would be in residence, back, up there, in one of 
the rooms off the inner chamber. Her daughters would live with her, as would her 
sisters, all working 
to help raise her children. On occasion, if alliances were wished with 
this family, other sisters or daughters would be allowed to bear children, creating ties 
between families. 
Seethe arched an eyebrow in her direction. Males are sent to live apart, with each 
wifes family? 
Usually, yes, after they reach maturity. She opened her arms and pointed to the 
rooms off the lower sphere. These rooms house the males, both family and visitors who 
are here to get a female with child. Most males accept the way of things, but when they 
rebel, they are exiled. Tales you have heard of solitary urZrethi working mines or lurking 
beneath bridges, these are the outcasts. 
I frowned. But those stories depict them as monsters. 
So they are, and so they become. Faryaah-Tse shrugged. Cut off from civilization 
they become malignant, much as the urZrethi here have become, I fear. 
She turned her back to the hearth and moved to the side so we could see her face 
again. Imagine if you abandoned a cityYslin, for exampleand all that were left in it 
were the halt, the lame, the beggars, and the scoundrels. In a thousand years, this is 
what you would have. 
Jeturna laughed aloud. You underestimate the human capacity 
to distort society. 
Wed have this in a month or two. We all laughed, men, urZrethi, and elves, breaking 
the tension. 
Faryaah-Tses explanations clearly had not been easy for her, and had 
revealed more to me about urZrethi than I had heard in a lifetime of living in the shadow

of the Bokagul. The urZrethi were known for being very private. She had shared much 
with us, and I took that as a sign of how much she had come to trust us. 
UrZrethi bearers soon brought us our baggage and we hauled it into our rooms. I 
shared one of the upper chambers with Seethe. Those rooms were more elegant than 
the long, blocky rooms given over to male urZrethi. While all the elements 
of it had 
been hewn from stone, in our chamber the edges had been rounded, and expanses had 
been painted. We had a small hearth that projected a little warmth into the room, and 
more than enough space under our sleeping platforms 
to store all of our gear. 
The male rooms looked more like warehouses with shelves that served as sleeping 
space. There looked to be enough slabs to fit ten menand twice that many urZrethi, I 
supposeand the edges and corners had the hardness of weapons to them. These 
rooms were also unheated, but this deep in the mountains 
they never got that cold, so 
blankets and furs would be enough to keep people snug and warm. 
After we had settled ourselves in, Tzindr-Coraxoc sent for us. A misshapen guide 
limped her way through corridors and brought us to another chamber that must have 
been linked to the Kimp family because it warmed immediately in Faryaah-Tses 
presence. The long room had a curved ceiling painted with images of urZrethi broken 
into panels by the same sort of twisted knotwork Id seen in the cork. Running down the 
center of it was a stone table that clearly had been carved from the rock as the room was 
made. Wooden chairs and benches sat at it and thick candles had been run down its 
spine. Battered 
plates, bowls, and goblets of gold had been set at each place, and 
foodsome of which I suspected had been pilfered from our storeshad been heaped 
steaming on platters large ~ -,.-,,  thiolHs in hattle. 
Tzindr-Coraxoc, rising from the tall chair set at the tables far end, spread her arms 
wide. You asked for the hospitality of Boragul and we give it to you. This is the best we 
have to offer. 
Each of us had our own bodyservant allotted to us. Mine took me by the hand and 
guided me to my place at the table. I seated myself in the chair there, and found my 
knees higher than my hips because the chair had been built to accommodate 
an 
urZrethi. This still left me ridiculously high in comparison 
to the table, so I just shifted 
the chair out from under me and sat on the floor. 
The Boragul queen regarded me coldly and snarled something 
in a tongue I could 
not understand. 
Faryaah-Tse, who had been seated at her right hand, leaned forward. It is not a 
dishonor, my queen, but these men have taken an oath that they will only sit in a saddle 
until their mission has been accomplished. 
The queen nodded and the rest of our company also abandoned 
their chairs, though 
Seethe and Winfellis remained on the bench they shared. By shifting forward a bit, they 
tucked their legs beneath them and all but kneeled at the table. Drugi mumbled 
something about having the cold seep from the floor into his old bones. 
Brencis glanced at him and snorted. Given where weve been, its likely to seep bone 
to stone and not the other way around, my friend. 
Even the queen liked that joke, so she laughed then clapped her hands and the 
feasting began. The food was not the strangest part of it, but rather having a servant 
whose body shifted to become the proper utensil. My servants right hand became a ladle 
to provide me soup, then made the shift to pincers to get me meat. As I ate, I saw her 
eyeing my food with a certain desire. Since I had guessed the urZrethi here were not 
eating well and getting stuck between transitions, I always left something on my plate 
that she might gobble down later. 
As bizarre as the setting and servants were, the food was very good and very spicy. 
The soup, which was a rather thin broth with mushrooms, some vegetables, and a bit of

other stuff I didnt want to recognize floating in it, still tasted very rich and hot enough to 
make my lips throb. Leaving some of it behind for my servant was harder than I would 
have imagined. 
Most of the other dishes came covered in brown sauces, which I considered a virtue 
when I couldnt clearly identify some of the bones which came in the meat. It all tasted 
rather exotic and not bad at all, but I was certain I wasnt eating chicken, pork, beef, or 
even mutton. Whatever it was, it tasted better than dried beef, so I wolfed it down. 
The wine proved to be surprisingly good. I didnt have Leighs facility for guessing 
vintages and ages from a single sniff, but I very much liked it. The dark wine had good 
body and just a tickle of berry flavor to it. It didnt strike me as anything that had laid in 
casks for ten centuries, so either the urZrethi of Boragul had vineyards hidden in high 
mountain meadows, or they maintained some limited trade with peoples outside the 
mountains. 
The centerpiece of the feast came later, after soup and a few preliminary dishes. From 
a gourmets point of view it might well have been a spectacular dish, but it was served in 
a manner that left no mystery to its origin. The main beast lay on a platter as it might lie 
before a hearth. Into it had been stuffed a smaller creature and into that a yet smaller 
creature, much in the way we might expect one to end up in the others stomach if 
swallowed whole. Most damnably of all, the dog stuffed with cat that was stuffed with a 
rat had been so deli-ciously spiced that my mouth watered even as I wanted to recoil 
from the table. 
The queen looked at me. It is my understanding, Tarrant Hawkins, that you are the 
youngest person here. To you, then, goes the honor of the choice cut. 
I coughed into my hand to cover my surprise. I glanced at Faryaah-Tse, but she only 
stared at me and nodded curtly once. My mind reeled. Id never considered eating a dog 
before, 
so thinking of a dog as food was completely beyond me. And the choicest cut, 
what would that be? I wasnt a butcher given to knowing what part of an animal tasted 
best. I didnt know what choice to make, but I knew I had to make one, and having the 
image of every dog Id ever petted flying through my mind didnt help. I could feel their 
heads under my hand, see their eager eyes looking up at me. I was lost. 
Faryaah-Tses second nod forced me to make a decision. Queen Tzindr-Coraxoc, in 
Oriosa, from whence I come, there is only one tidbit that can be considered the choice 
cut. I pointed to the dogs skull. There, the little strip of muscle on the top. Ill only 
take the right side, leaving the left for someone else. 
The queen smiled slowly. Excellent choice. 
I bowed my head to her. Thank you. 
She tapped a finger against the table. You will tell me why it is the choice cut. 
Muscles bunched at my jaws as I sought to cover my surprise 
and consternation. Id 
been lucky once, but again? 
I looked over at her and calmed myself as inspiration struck. It is the choice cut 
because that is the muscle with which the dog chews, and we must chew it. It is the only 
cut that works on us as it works on the dog. 
The queen clapped her hands. Splendid, splendid! Now you will all enjoy our main 
course. 
We all ate of it, but sparingly. It struck me as odd that they would eat dog and cat and 
rat but keep temeryces as pets. It would have probably struck the Boragul urZrethi as 
odd to know Id eaten temeryx, and you can rest assured that temeryx, though gamier, 
tastes better than dog. 
Once the main dish was cleared we were served a sweet wine and tarts filled with 
berries and nuts. These combined to wash away the last of the dog taste from my mouth 
and I did not leave any for my servant to finish. The wine did relax us and loosen

tongues. We spun tales of our adventures, leaving the queen agog at all we had done 
and how far we had come. 
In the perpetual twilight that was Boragul, we had no idea how much time had 
passed. Soon enough, though, yawns came to match laughs and we knew it was time to 
retire. After thanking our hostess, we followed Faryaah-Tse back to our rooms and, save 
for Drugi who wanted to wander around until his stomach settled down, we headed off 
to bed. 
Seethe and I did make love that night, half blaming our ardor on the wine and the 
other half on the urZrethi enchantments 
worked into these rooms for the convenience of 
urZrethi 
females who wanted to breed. Everything came slowly that night, soft and 
warm and slow. There was no urgency, no sense of holding off death or doom, just the 
chance for the two of us to share pleasure with and in each other. 
I awoke, assuming it was morning, but having no way of knowing. I pulled on my 
clothes and wandered out into the main chamber, finding others of our company rising 
and brushing sleepsand from their eyes. None of us were hung-over, which was good, 
and all of us agreed wed eaten enough dog to stand us for a lifetime. 
Brencis looked around and frowned. Hawkins, did you see Drugi? 
I shook my head. Hes not back in that room? 
His blankets are laid out, but he did that before we left for the feast. 
Lord Norrington descended the steps from the upper sphere. Did anyone see Drugi 
return last night? 
No one had. 
I shivered. I dont like this. 
Nor do I. Lord Norrington regarded those of us who were awake. Well need to 
search for him. Well do it under the pretext of enjoying the splendor that is Boragul. 
Well go out in pairs. 
Aren Asvaldget raised a hand. With Drugi gone we are one shy of a final pair. I will 
go alone. 
No, 111 be alone. Lord Norrington smiled. You work well together with Edamis. Id 
rather have you together. All of you, go armed. We dont know whats wrong, and with 
any luck nothing is, but I dont want to take any chances. 
I returned to the chamber I shared with Seethe, woke her and told her what had 
happened. She quickly dressed and I strapped on Tsamoc. I scabbarded a gibberer 
longknife on my right hip and tucked the boot dagger Nay had given me in my right 
boot. She belted on her sword and dagger, and we went out for our search. 
The pretext Lord Norrington had given us wasnt as thin as it might have sounded. 
The halls were certainly stupendous, and though I could not see much, Seethe described 
many things to me in exquisite detail. I heard awe in her voice at what she saw, and 
disgust, too, for how it had been allowed to be soiled by bats and other feral creatures. 
What they have allowed to happen here is akin to what the Aurolani have done to 
Vorquellyn. It is evil. 
As we moved through the hallways I took the precaution of looking around and 
committing to memory the nature of the turns wed taken. In places where the dust lay 
thick I used my bootheel to scrape a cross. The dust also proved useful because it held 
tracks, and I looked for Drugis footprints wherever traffic had moved off the main 
thoroughfare. 
Up some stairs and around some corners I saw some tracks that I wasnt sure I 
recognized. They were not made by booted feet, and though most of the urZrethi 
seemed to go around unshod, their feet tended to be smaller than these. Moreover, 
these steps had an even gait which was highly unusual since most of the urZrethi were 
lame. Seethe crouched and studied them for a moment, then silently waved me on down

the dark corridor into which they led. 
The tracks continued for twenty yards, past several portals, then curved in toward one 
to the right. A big stone door blocked it and though we listened, we could hear nothing. 
I pantomimed knocking on the stone, but Seethe shook that idea off. Instead she had 
me stoop down and take hold of her legs around the knees. As I stood up again she was 
able to reach up and touch the keystone in the round portal. 
As the stone rolled back, a musky scent I recognized very well rolled out of the room. 
I stumbled back and fell, Seethe landing on my chest. I coughed in spite of myself, then 
let her bounce off to the left. I twisted around, coming up on my knees and drew 
Tsamoc. 
It cant be, she breathed as she armed herself. 
It is, Seethe. Bile burned my throat. Its all been a trap. 
The portal opened onto a massive room with muted lights playing along into its 
depth. Raised platforms dotted the floor, but could barely be seen for what, at first 
glance, appeared to be thick carpet covering everything. The problem was that the carpet 
movedwriggled reallyin little bits and pieces working 
their way up to the summit of 
each platform. 
Mounted atop the platform were huge creatures, as fat as sows but with the size of 
oxen to them. The white fur on their bellies revealed a dozen red teats. The brood 
mothers did not move much at all, but their offspring, hundreds of puling mottled kitts, 
clawed and snapped at each other in their quest to feed. .  , Boragul, nursery to 
gibberkin. Seethe shook her head. Run, Hawkins, and hope we can run far and fast 
enough. 
Run we did, but not far enough or fast enough. Tsamoc sang as it parried short 
spears, then cut up through the bellies of gibberers. One lunged at my gut, but with 
both hands on Tsamocs hilt I took the longknife around and carried it high, then shifted 
my grip and chopped down, hard. The blow carved a third of the gibberers face off, 
sending him reeling, trying to piece it back together. 
Seethe grinned a terrible grin, her white teeth shining in a face splashed with gibberer 
blood. We ran from that knot of gibberers, the dead and whimpering, and sped through 
the corridors. Mostly we found gibberers, but occasionally ur-Zrethi with packs of little 
temeryces came after us. Theyd shifted themselves into what they thought warriors 
should be, which left them half-armored and under-armed. Faryaah-Tse would have 
ridiculed them if shed seen them. 
They came at us recklessly. I assume it was because they thought us beneath them. 
We took their sense of superiority and carved it into little bits, leaving them on the cold 
stone floors with their pets delicately picking at them. 
We knew we were dead and we both howled at the insanity of it. Our howls matched 
those of the gibberers hunting us. 
We called all the louder to them, challenging them, and they howled back. 
Had they been men, I would have said the ferocity and daring of our attacks were 
what surprised them, but these beasts had little intelligence. Their surprise came when 
we did not shy from their snarling, when we dared attack, and from the fact that the 
blood of their kind drenched us. 
I followed Seethe, running hard to keep her in sight. Her eyesight allowed her to see 
more than I could, and in some ways, I was happy I could see so little. Just the bits and 
pieces of her tunic flapping loose meant shed been nicked up as badly as I had. No 
mortal wounds, but enough to eventually slow me down and let them catch me. 
Urging me along, Seethe ran ahead, into an intersection. She twisted to the right and 
a gibberer lunged with a spear and stuck her through the chest, high on the flank. I 
heard her scream and saw the spear-point poke through her tunic at her back. He

hoisted her up, her legs kicking, her arms flailing, and shook the spear to harvest more 
screams from her. 
In a heartbeat I was on her attacker. Tsamoc slashed down, cutting through the 
spear. I hit the gibberer with my right shoulder, knocking him back and down. 
I spun around to the left and brought Tsamoc up, sliding the blade beneath another 
spearthis one meant to catch me. I slashed a gibberer across the belly, then parried 
another spear wide to my left. Dodging right I let that gibberer dash past me, then I 
whipped my blade around in a flat arc. The sword sang as it excised a bowl-like hunk 
from the back of his skull. 
A slash caught me across the back of my left leg, but scored nothing more than flesh. 
I continued my spin and hacked Tsamoc down. I caught the gibberer between shoulder 
and neck, cutting enough to free a geyser of blood. He collapsed and I turned, slashing 
high right to low left. The blow caught the first gibberer, the one who speared Seethe, 
cutting off his hands and slicing through his neck. It would have opened him from 
shoulder to hip, had he not been on his knees mewing for mercy. 
I ran to where Seethe had dragged herself against the wall. 
Shed left a smear of blood behind her and the broken spear-shaft still quivered with 
each breath. A glistening blackness welled up around it. I reached out to press my hands 
against the wound, to do something, but her hands closed on mine. 
Go, Tarrant, go. Leave me. 
I cant leave you. 
Her chest heaved heavily with each labored breath. You cant carry me. I cant run. 
Go. Go! 
Tears blurred her image, softening it. I cant go. I love you. 
She laughed and, if not for the pain tingeing it, Id have thought it beautiful. Dear 
Tarrant. You must go. If you love me, grant me this. She coughed lightly and blood 
flecked her lips. Let me die knowing you are free. 
Seethe, I cant leave you. 
You must. She reached up and stroked my cheek. Her thumb brushed away a tear. 
Go, Tarrant. Find help for me, yes? 
I nodded. Dont die on me. Ill be back for you. 
I know you will. She kicked weakly at me. Hurry, Tarrant. 
Find the others. And 
come back. 
I picked Tsamoc up and stood, then turned away because I did not want to see her 
die. I looked around and recognized nothing, so I picked a direction and started off. I 
made myself run hard and strong, so she could see that I was going to get help. It didnt 
matter that we both knew help would never arrive in time. I just wanted her to die with 
hope, and to comfort myself knowing Id supplied it. 
As Seethe had bidden, I did find some of the others, here and there, with bits and 
pieces of them scattered yet further. Winfellis had given a good account of herself, 
leaving a trail of burned and blasted gibberers and vylaens in her wake. Eventually, 
I 
guess, she ran out of strength, which let gibberers catch up with her and haul her down. 
Brencis Galacos and Jeturna Costasi died fighting side by side. A half-dozen spears 
had taken him down. Shed lost her sword arm, then her head had been taken. I had no 
idea where it was, but her body lay sprawled over his legs. I closed his eyes and 
continued on. 
In my search I did run into gibberers, but I felt less prey than predator. The rules by 
which I was playing were simple: I had to kill everything I met or I would die. I had no 
reason to hold back, no reason to be cautious. I snarled and snapped at them with the 
same ferocity they did me. I hacked them with my sword, stabbed them with my 
longknife, kicked and punched, bit and cursed. I did everything I could, took every

advantage I could, and it saw me through. 
Eventually I found my trial-blazes and descended stairs. I hauled myself back to our 
quarters. A gibberer lay dead outside 
the portal, and from his orientation I knew he had 
dragged himself clear. Cautiously I stepped over him and entered 
the tunnel. More 
bodies filled it, all gibberers. 
I found five more dead in the lower sphere and one lying on its back on the stairs. 
Droplets of blood formed a trail to the chamber Lord Norrington had stayed in. I rushed 
to the portal, couldnt suppress a gasp, then nipped in and dropped to my knees. 
Lord Norrington lay slumped against the shelf where he had slept the night before. I 
could tell from the blood smeared on the edge that hed tried to climb onto it, but his 
strength had failed him. I thought for a second that he was dead, but an eyelid flickered 
open. 
Hawkins? He barely got the word out. Alive? 
Alive, yes. 
Others? 
Some dead; some, I dont know. I looped his right arm around my neck. Hold on, 
Ill get you onto the bed. 
He hissed with pain as I lifted him. He managed to lay his left arm across his belly 
and, as he did so, I could see it was badly broken across the forearm. I eased him down 
and he sighed as he straightened out. As he did that I noticed his right ankle didnt seem 
to work either. 
My lord, Ill get the herbs from Arens pack. I know enough to identify metholanth. 
No, Tarrant. He clutched at my arm with his right hand. Dont go. 
But youll need the medicine to make you better. 
He shook his head slowly. Im not getting better. He lifted his left arm at the elbow. 
Im stuck through the stomach. 
Without magick I wont heal. I can already feel the 
infection. 
But metholanth will help. 
Too little, too late. Lord Norrington gave me a brave smile. I need you to do 
something. A Phoenix Knight must be burned, not buried. Burned. You have to burn my 
body. 
I nodded. Burn it, I understand. I will, but first Im going to get the herbs and buy 
some time to find you help. I forced out of my mind the fact that Winfellis was dead 
because there had to be some way to save him. Then, years from now, in Valsina, Ill 
burn your body. I promise with my heart and soul. 
His brown eyes sparkled. Remove my mask. I want to share with you what I look 
like. 
No, my lord, I couldnt. 
Do it, Tarrant. And say my name. 
I nodded and slid his mask off. Nothing I saw surprised me, really. Id not imagined 
his nose was quite that straight, or that his hairline had pulled back quite that far. It 
should have seemed to me that I was looking at a complete stranger, but it wasnt. It 
seemed as if Id known this face all my life. 
There, Kenwick, is that better? 
Yes. Thank you. He pressed the mask in my hands against my chest. Take that 
mask to Leigh. 
As you wish. 
His eyes closed. And I would have you do one more thing, Tarrant. 
What is it, Kenwick? 
His hand slid to my left wrist and gripped it tightly. I want you to kill me. 
What? No!

Yes, Tarrant. Just open an artery. Let me bleed and fall asleep. 
I cant. 
You must. Lord Norringtons mouth gaped open and his eyes widened as his body 
shook. The look of agony on his face was unmistakable and when his body slackened I 
felt the strength in his grip fade away. The pain. I cant . . . 
But you are Lord Norrington. How can you surrender to something like pain? 
A short laugh wheezed between his lips. You speak of a legend. I am just flesh and 
blood. Aching flesh. Draining blood. Dont let me die this way. 
No. You gave me your trust, and Im going to hold you to that gift. I will find a way 
to save you. You have to trust me in that. 
Hawkins, Hawkins. He smiled at me and closed his eyes. You have to kill me. This 
is why. 
As he lay there dying, Lord Kenwick Norrington revealed to me the secret he said was 
known only to one other living person. His secret, he said, was the reason the final bit of 
our quest was bound to fail. He said hed known that from the beginning, but had 
persuaded himself it could be otherwise because of the victories wed won. In his 
arrogance hed doomed us all. Hed led Seethe to her death. Hed even put me in 
jeopardy, all because he needed to prove something to himself 
and the world. 
What he told me left me cold inside, but also answered many tiny little questions Id 
never thought to ask before. I do not share that secret here, in these pages, because 
there are still people who could be hurt by its revelation. The only reason I mention it at 
all is because that secret, which he hoped would motivate me to kill him, convinced me I 
could do nothing less than take every step possible to see to it that he lived. 
His confession wore him out, so I slipped my arm from his grip and retrieved herbs 
from Arens gear. I mixed the metho-lanth with water and packed his wounds, including 
the two nasty stab wounds in his stomach. I bound his wounds as best I could, then set 
about shifting all our packs and supplies into his room. We had enough food to last us 
for a long time, but very little water. Of course, all Tzindr-Coraxoc needed to do was to 
send more gibberers after us and theyd eventually wear me down. 
At some point as I sat there with Lord Norrington, I fell asleep. I know this because I 
awoke when an urZrethi poked me with a long finger. I started and almost slashed the 
ur- 
Zrethi, but I recognized her as the servant Id had the night before at the feast. 
You are to come. She turned and shuffled from the room. 
I stood and sheathed Tsamoc. I looked down at Lord Norrington, 
taking some 
satisfaction in his even breathing. I kissed him on the forehead, made sure a bowl of 
water was near enough to his right hand that he could drink if he wanted to, then strode 
from the room. I kept my tread even as I walked through the bodies and followed my 
guide. 
Why would I trust one of the urZrethi? I really had nothing 
else to do. Had they 
wanted me dead they could have slain me while I slept. That they wanted to talk to me 
meant there was a chance Lord Norrington might live, and I had to take that chance. It 
was my only hope We wandered through the halls for a long time, taking a roundabout 
path that led me through long corridors, up and down stairs, and through galleries. I 
relished the click of my boots on the floors and the echoes from the walls. I looked for 
signs of fighting, but I saw none. In fact, the filth that had clogged the corners and 
edges of the walkways was gone. Statuary 
I was certain had been caked with bat 
droppings and bird guano were clean. The lights seemed a bit stronger, the shadows 
sharper, and in many ways, the whole place more stark and forbidding than before. 
Cold. Sterile. Dead. 
My guide led me into a long chamber that struck me as being a proper throne room.

The columns holding up the ceiling were carved in the shape of urZrethi with massive 
shoulders and arms. The other statues formed whole tableaux in wall niches, showing 
great urZrethi in battles out of legend. In one, an urZrethi had closed with and managed 
to drive handspikes up through the lower jaw of a dragon. The idea that any creature 
could get close enough to kill a dragon with bare hands left me in awe. 
My guide abandoned me in the entryway, but the clear path down to the eolden 
thrnnp in thp <-<>nti- f * 
no doubt as to where I was bound. I did my best to ignore the ranks of gibberers and 
vylaens lining the spaces between the columns. Temeryces, from the small brown ones 
the urZrethi raised through those Id killed and on up to the grand temeryces 
with their 
colorful plumage, paced back and forth behind the gibberer lines, with the small ones 
occasionally poking their heads between knees to look at me. A pair of hoargoun stood 
in the shadows of the final pillars. Their muscles bunched as they held a pair of chained 
drearbeasts back. 
As fearsome as was the gauntlet through which I walked, what waited for me scared 
me even more. Tzindr-Coraxoc slumped in a big throne, one far too large for her. 
Behind her, hanging there in the air, five to a side, were my companions, including Lord 
Norrington and the wizard, Heslin. Seethe, Lord Norrington, and Heslin seemed alive, as 
did others, though Brencis and Jeturna were clearly dead. Of Drugi I saw no sign at all, 
but I did not find this heartening. 
As I came within a dozen steps of the throne, Tzindr-Coraxocs head came up and her 
body began to change. Her legs and arms lost their feathers and grew thicker, more 
shapely. Her barrel torso stretched and filled out the cloth of gold robe she wore. Her 
hair, which had been short and grey, lengthened into a golden cascade. Her features 
sharpened, taking 
up the excess flesh that had hung on Tzindr-Coraxocs face. Her eyes 
became an exotic blue-green, with little swirls working through the color. 
She leaned heavily on one of the thrones arms and looked down at me. You have 
amused me, Tarrant Hawkins. Her voice had the softness of velvet, but none of its 
warmth. 
I would not think anything amuses you, Chytrine. 
But you do, by being clever, just like that, just like with the dog. She laughed easily, 
like the rustle of wind in a tree, though to me it sounded like the rasp of a snake 
crawling through dead leaves. I see all that my sullanciri saw, and what I saw of you 
amused me. You, barely a man, attacked my sullanciri. The grapnel and anchor, that 
was inventive. The bowshot was likewise inspired. Even using one of my arrows against 
one of my creations, that was very good. And the last one, using the sword, I could not 
have done better myself. 
You mean that as high praise. 
Her eyes narrowed and the movement in them increased. I do, boy, I do. You should 
take it as such. 
You give me too much credit. I did my best to match her stare and only managed it 
because I was able to hide behind my mask. 
Leigh slew your sullanciri. I only did what I did to save him and others. 
Oh, I know, Tarrant. Your selflessness has touched me, deeply. As she spoke she 
played a hand down between her breasts. Because of it I will give you a chance to save 
your friends. 
She gestured behind her and each one of them twitched as if invisible lightning had 
played from her fingers. Seethe half opened her eyes and looked down at me, but I dont 
think she really saw me. Lord Norrington did and frowned, but couldnt hold the 
expression for very long. The others heads just lolled on their necks, including Jeturnas, 
which had been crudely sewn back into place.

Some of them are dead. 
And they will remain dead, but there are worse things than death, and I will put 
them through each and every one if you fail. She gestured casually then beckoned, 
drawing hooked fingers toward the palm of her outstretched right hand. I heard a snort 
from my right, and one of the grand temeryces came trotting past the drearbeasts. Its 
talons clicked against the floor, then it stopped beside me, all but resting its muzzle on 
my right shoulder. Its breath blew thunder into my ears. 
Chytrines stare bored into me. The game is this: if you do not fail, those who live 
will live, those who are dead will be dead. Do you understand? 
I do. 
Do you accept? 
I looked at them, hanging there, and nodded. I do. 
Good, then all you must do is show me your strength. Make no sound through your 
ordeal, do not move, and you will save your friends. 
She hissed something and the temeryx moved to where it stood in front of me, but 
toward my right. The beast lifted its right leg and extended the great hooked claw 
toward me. I felt it punch into my scalp and start down, slowly, letting droplets of blood 
outpace it. The claw hitched for a moment, then scratched its way down over my mask. I 
saw a curled ribbon of leather rising from the claw as it swept past my right eye, then 
dug in again on my cheek. 
It scored flesh below my cheekbone and on to my jaw. The temeryxs foot moved 
toward me to catch my throat and bump the line down over my collarbone. There the 
other two claws joined in response to a new sibilant command from Chytrine. The claws 
raked their way down over my flesh, shredding my clothes, tearing bloody furrows in my 
skin. 
The pain was hardly indescribable, for it matched the cuts Id won earlier that day. It 
wasnt the worst Id ever felt, either, but there was just more of it. Every inch the 
creature clawed open compounded the pain. I wanted to yell, to twitch, to do 
something, anything, so my attention did not have to be focused 
just on the lines 
burning down my body. 
Looking past Chytrine I found my focus. Aren Asvaldget appeared as if theyd broken 
every bone in his body. The spear still twitched in Seethes chest. Lord Norringtons left 
arm still dangled uselessly, his ankle still twisted at an unnatural angle. Even Heslin, with 
a sullanciri arrow in him, all of them were worse off than I was and they said nothing. By 
holding firm, I could save them, and save them I would. To twitch, to cry out, would be 
to allow Chytrine a victory, and Id denied her the same so far. 
I felt detached from my body. I couldnt step out of it and look back at it, but I 
withdrew from it as if it were a mask being worn by my spirit. The pain still registered, 
but made no more of an impression than the pit-pit-pit of blood droplets dripping from 
my jaw to splash against my chest. The pain was just part of what I was, who I had 
become. I could not escape it, nor did I see a reason to. If I fled, my friends would 
suffer, and that I would not allow. 
The grand temeryxs claws curled away as they scrabbled at my boot. The beast 
bounced back a step and peered at me curiously, then jutted its nose forward and sniffed 
at the blood seeping into the long scratches it had carved in my flesh. The heat of its 
breath seemed a distant echo of the fire burning a line from my scalp to my shin. 
The staccato dripping of blood down my cheek and off my jaw marked time for me. I 
think the droplets slowed as blood clotted, but I had no trust of my senses. Chytrine 
watched me, her eyes roiling as blood collected in my boot. A chill settled into my flesh 
through the rents in my clothes, but the fire in my skin did not diminish and I knew the 
wounds would putrefy.

Finally she shifted in her throne, with her eyes widening somewhat. Before you 
amused, now you impress. Your stoicism 
amazes me. 
I allowed myself one nod and somehow restrained myself from leaping back and 
around in a furious dance designed to bleed the pain out. I had no doubt such action 
would amuse her, but I thought impressing her was preferential given the circumstances. 
The bargain. 
She nodded. I shall keep to it. Those of your friends who are dead will remain dead. 
Those who live will remain alive. Chytrine let a light chuckle roll from her throat. Of 
course, your actions have determined their fate. It is clear my invasion of the south was 
premature, for my leaders were dull and my troops insufficient to accomplish all I set out 
for them. Since you destroyed my sullanciri, I must replace them, and I would have 
good leaders, heroic leaders, in their places. Your friends will serve me well in that 
capacity. 
No, no, you cant do that. My hands curled into fists. They deserve better. They 
deserve their freedom. 
Do they? She snorted sharply, her flared nostrils eroding her beauty. Perhaps 
another bargain. I will grant them their freedom in exchange for something only you can 
give me. 
I felt as if thorny vines had wrapped themselves around my heart. And that would 
be? 
Your allegiance and service. She leaned forward and smiled most seductively. You 
will become my new sullanciri. Youve certainly won the right, having destroyed the 
others. I will make you over into that which you wish to be, and I will grant your friends 
their freedom in the bargain. You will serve as my warlord and consort, and the world 
will be ours. 
Such an offer, it would seem, would require long deliberation 
before a decision was 
made. If I agreed, my friends would be given their freedom. Theythey who knew so 
much more than I did and who knew mecould certainly muster the strength and devise 
the strategies needed to defeat me. And to appear in the south with an army that would 
make Scrainwood melt into a trembling puddle had appeal. I could even direct the 
invasion so it accomplished her ends while minimizing the damage to my people. 
Those thoughts did occur to me at the time, but they evaporated 
in a heartbeat 
because I knew I could never trust Chy-trine. I had agreed to her first contest and she 
remained true to her word, but not the spirit of her words. She had tricked me once and 
I knew a second trick lurked there, waiting to take me. I had given her a minor victory, 
and even if denying her another would cost me my life, I deemed denying it to her a 
goal worthy of being so dearly purchased. 
I shook my head. No. I wont join you. I will never join you. 
Chytrine straightened up in her throne. Every man has his price. I would have 
thought saving your friends was yours. 
Oh, it would be, but I have no doubt your offer will trap me while cheating me out of 
that price. 
She laughed once, and it probably came out more harsh than expected. Very good, 
Hawkins, very good. I tell you this now, each one of these, your friends, came to me 
willingly. I met their price. The Vorquelf, in her last moment, allowed herself to believe 
you had abandoned her, so she accepted my fellowship. And your Lord Norrington, in 
his pain he dearly sought the surcease you denied him. I promised him an end to pain 
and he swore to serve me. So it was with the others, even the dead, who merely wished 
to remain in this world. 
So, you were right. If I granted them their freedom, they would still serve me as 
sullanciri. They would have served you as your sullanciri, but you have chosen to oppose

me. Her thick-lidded eyes half closed. You have proved clever and stalwart 
so far, but 
will you have the stomach for what will come? 
I transformed my personal pain into the pain she had caused so many others, then 
used that anger to fuel my words. If it means defeating you, I will gladly do my part. I 
will always oppose you. 
I am certain you think you will, but you should beware such irrational beliefs. They 
leave you prey to folly. She opened her arms to take in the hall. The urZrethi of 
Boragul believed themselves the only ones worthy of becoming fledged. I appeared to 
them as Tzindr-Coraxoc, fletched on arms and legs, and they accepted me as their 
leader. You men of the south are just as foolish and, to my advantage, you are more 
than capable of playing yourselves off, one against another. 
Even the most stupid leader in the south can recognize the threat you pose, 
Chytrine. 
Is that so? We shall see. She smiled at me again, leaning forward like an adult about 
to indulge a child in some kindness. 
I will give you two days headstart, then I will send 
my hunters after you. If you make it south, you can warn your kings and queens that I 
am coming. You can give them the most dire warning you can think of, and tell them 
that Ive said my next appearance will be worse than that. Their champions 
are now my 
champions, and unless they find a way to breed heroes as quickly as I can breed 
grichothkawhat you style as gibberkinthe children of today will never see their own 
offspring mature. 
Sitting back, Chytrine arched an eyebrow at me. Do you understand this message? 
I do, and I will deliver it. 
Will you, or will my hunters find you first? She watched me with boiling eyes. I 
almost hope you do survive. 
I will, and you will regret it. 
Never, Hawkins. She stood and descended from her throne. I always win, and 
victory over you is something I will savor. 
She leaned toward me and licked blood from mv cheek- T recoiled from the touch of 
her tongue, but not quickly enough. She caught my jaw in one hand, then kissed me on 
the lips. 
The burning on them surpassed the pain from my wounds, and my world went black. 
fTt hat I actually awoke again is a miracle for which I cannot I account. Perhaps one 
of the godlingsArel of luck or Nilin I of perversity, or even Fesyin of paindecided I 
was entertaining 
enough to continue my mortal trials. The oath I swore Resolute to help 
him liberate Vorquellyn, that, too, could have been powerful enough to rouse me. How I 
came to wake really matters not at all, but just the fact that I did waken is important. 
Chytrine clearly did not intend it to be so. I had been carried from her throne room 
and tossed bodily from Boragul, wearing only that which Id had on in my audience with 
her. Frostbite had already numbed my fingers, toes, nose, and cheeks, and likely would 
have gnawed clean through me had I not regained consciousness. The pain from my 
cuts did get dulled by the cold, but that was a small comfort. 
I found myself in the shadows of Boragul, and this worried me greatly since their 
shadows only point north. In that direction 
a vast ice field spread out, featureless save 
for snowdrifts discernible only by hints of blue shadows. For me to make my way home 
I would have- tr, c*-.-., had previously decided was impassable, and win my way south 
with legions of gibberkin hounding my every step. 
I forced myself to my feet and balanced unsteadily on the snows thick crust. I drew 
Tsamoc and set about chopping out thick blocks of snow, which I shifted into position to 
build a snow den of the type Drugi had showed us how to make. Though I knew little 
about building a dome, Tsamoc cut blocks that fit perfectly together. As I worked, my

body warmed, and in two hours I had a snow den somewhat larger than a coffin. 
It might not seem as if a shelter built of snow could prevent 
someone from freezing, 
but the body produces heat of its own and the shelter trapped the warm air. It was clear 
to me that being protected from the northern winds that had begun to howl meant I 
would not freeze to death quickly, but freezing 
slowly has little more appeal. I tried to 
keep moving, at least as much as my shelter would allow, but as night fell, fatigue and 
pain ate away at my resolve to remain active. I told myself I would just close my eyes 
for a moment or two, to husband my strength, and somehow I made myself believe that 
whatever force had awakened me the first time would do so again. 
Awaken again I did, and I felt much warmer. This was undoubtedly because of the 
tallow candle burning near my head and the thick wool blanket spread over me. At my 
feet I found the heavier winter clothes Id worn when coming north and a pack stuffed 
with a jumble of supplies, including a skin of wine, a packet of dried meat, another with 
cheese and some biscuits. Most important was a pouch containing metholanth. My 
silverwood bow and the quiver of arrows Cavarre had given me lay beside Tsamoc on 
the snowy shelf Id carved in the swords honor. 
Of equal import were a gold plate piled high with meat and next to it another with a 
berry tart. I can only assume my benefactor was the feast servant with whom I shared 
part of my food. The meat could not have been dog, for it tasted far too good. And the 
tart, which had been delicious previously, now convinced me that it really was the food 
of the gods. 
I mixed metholanth with some of the wine and packed it into the most gaping 
portions of the wounds. I shredded the tunic and trousers into rags and bound my 
wounds with them, then slipped on my warm clothing. I held my hands over the small 
yellow flame, drinking in its warmth. I mumbled 
a prayer to Aren, asking for my 
benefactress to go unpunished 
and, to this day, I hope that prayer was answered. 
The next morning I gathered up my things and started out. The snow supported me 
and, by keeping Boragul to my left, I knew I was moving west. The featurelessness of 
the landscape was disheartening in that it made it difficult for me to determine 
how far 
Id come. I accepted that burden, however, since the landscape also offered my enemies 
nowhere to hide. Any that wanted to get methe first thirty, anywayhad to be better 
archers than I was, and I doubted any of them had my motivation to make shots count. 
True to her word, Chytrine didnt send her hunters after me for two days, which 
meant I might have outrun them until I was trying to make my way through the pass, 
save for a savage storm that blew up out of the north. I was able to dig myself another 
shelter and just hunkered down to wait it out. I have no idea how long it took to pass, 
but it was enough time for some of the wounds to begin to suppurate and for me to 
become feverish. 
I knew the infection and fever was not good, but my supply 
of metholanth had 
dwindled away to nothing. With the rising fever came delirium, which I fully expected to 
kill me. As it turned out, it actually saved my life. 
Of the days after the storm I remember very little, and what I do remember comes in 
flashes. The storm, it seems, covered my trail so well that Chytrines hunters actually 
moved past my shelter, never detecting me. Then, in my fever-walks, I headed directly 
west and actually overshot the mouth of the pass. Somehow I realized my mistake and 
cut back to the southeast, where I made contact with the fringes of a hunting party. 
A fevermad bowman is not one I would expect to shoot well, and I have no 
recollection of what I shot where, though my supply of arrows shrank to five. I do know 
I did not kill all the hunters after me because we did eneaee in running battles I was 
more an animal than a man, learning all manner of ways to hide myself from hunters 
when they moved in packs, then darting out to pick off the stragglers.

Id reached the northern foothills of the Boreal Mountains, just west of the pass, and 
was moving through a sparse bit of forest when the core of the pack that had been 
hunting me finally tracked me down. I remember seeing shadows flitting between small 
pines and hearing the crunch of feet on snowy crusts. The stone set in Tsamoc glowed 
softly, supplementing the moons weak light. It did draw the enemy to me, but I didnt 
care since the only way I could deal with them was if they came within swords-reach. 
The last of themthere were four, I thinkcame hard and fast. I parried a 
spear-thrust down to my right, then brought Tsamoc up and around in a slash that split 
the gib-berers spine at his waist. He crashed down through the snows crust as I turned 
to my left and swatted a longknife aside with my mittened left hand. I slashed weakly at 
him, cutting his flank. Then, as I tried to turn further to the left to continue to engage 
him, the crust parted beneath my feet, sinking me in snow to my knees. Though my 
weight was shifting directions, my feet couldnt, and I toppled onto my right side, 
Tsamoc slicing deep into the snow. 
The gibberer loomed up over me, raising its longknife in both hands, set to plunge it 
down through my belly. I snarled and tugged at Tsamoc. I tried to kick out with my feet, 
but they were trapped deep. I looked up into the gibberers feral eyes and I knew my 
fight was over. 
Then a whirring buzz drilled into me and something flashed through the night. The 
gibberer screamed and clutched at its eyes. It reeled away, stumbling and breaking 
through the crust. A different whirring sound built and faded, ending in a wet thunk. The 
blind gibberers wailing ceased, its spine arched against a metal cross half buried in its 
back. It flopped forward and lay still. 
The whirring buzz returned and I knew myself to be in the full and probably fatal 
throes of fever, for only delirium could account for the thing that landed on my stomach. 
A foot and a half tall and appearing to be largely armored with glossy black casing 
segmentslike those on an insectthe creature folded all four of his arms over his 
chest. His four wings, which resembled those of a dragonfly, folded back down toward 
his feet. Two antennae rose from his forehead, just before the bristly shock of hair 
covering his head. He regarded me with two jewel-faceted eyes. 
Quick, quick, he piped in a high voice. Alive, he alive. Quick, quick. 
I heard the crunch of heavy feet punching through the snow crust with each step. 
Damn those gibberers for breaking 
the crust. 
I recognized the voice and turned my head toward it. The moonlight lent an 
iridescence to Resolutes white hair and silver eyes. I reached my left hand toward him. I 
wanted to call his name, but words refused to come. I let my arm flop down across my 
chest and began to cry. 
Resolute crouched beside me and smiled. Dont worry, Hawkins. Youve promised to 
liberate Vorquellyn and Im going 
to make sure you live long enough to do it. 
Resolute bundled me aboard a long sled of the sort used for travel in the winter. 
Usually dogs are used to pull it, and given my condition I could be wrong, but for part of 
our journey Im fairly certain the beasts drawing us along were gibberers that hed 
magicked back to life. 
None of his magick could heal me, but his companion managed to help me recover. 
Sprynt was a Spritha and gathered 
metholanth and other herbs despite their being 
buried under feet of snow. Somehow he knew where they were, and Resolute told me 
that was a thing about Spritha, that there were times when they just knew they had to be 
someplace, and so they went. 
After you left Yslin, Sprynt found me and told me he knew he was to be with me in 
Aurolan to save you. The Vorquelf shook his head. There was no doubting him, and 
you might imagine that he could be something of a pest if you try to ignore him.

Adamant, adamant. The Spritha posted his lower arms on his hips as his upper 
arms worked at sewing my scalp shut. 
In the flickering light of the small fire Resolute had built I could see that Sprynt was 
not black but a bright red, and his eyes ruby. His hair was black, and the leathery bits of 
flesh between segments of his exoskeleton were the color of dried blood. The creature 
smiled frequently and worked on me with a delicate touch, which seemed to compensate 
for his disappointment 
over the fact that I would certainly bear scars from my wounds. 
Resolute had come north through the pass. Hed started with enspelled wolves to pull 
the sled, but had switched to gibberers once hed killed enough of them. I felt sorry for 
using the wolves so. 
He assumed, and as my fever broke I agreed, that Chytrine would set troops in the 
pass to prevent my escape. To thwart her we worked our way south through the Boreal 
Mountains. Our journey took us through high passes that, while treacherous, 
did not 
betray the three of us. We eventually came down into the Ghost Marches almost due 
north of Vorquellyn. There Sprynt led us to some horses which we used to bring us to 
Fortress Draconis. 
It is perhaps a sign of how weak I was that the fortress seemed to me to be the most 
beautiful building Id ever seen. Though Id only been a month absent from it, nearly all 
the rubble from the wall breaches had been cleared, and the walls were in the process of 
being rebuilt. Moreover, the fortress was being expanded, with new walls spreading out 
in a zig-zag pattern. 
Within the walls reconstruction had also taken place. While empty lots marked the 
destruction Chytrines forces had caused, the streets had been cleared and life appeared 
normal for a town of this size. Washing hung from lines, flowers 
in pots decorated 
windows, and many buildings had been brightened up with splashes of paint. 
Though I alone of the command company returned, those who recognized me 
seemed oblivious to the import of my solo return. Soldiers saluted me, and children ran 
in front of my horse, shrieking out the news of my return. Sprynt darted on ahead, 
presumably to tell the Draconis Baron of my arrival, as Dothan Cavarre met me at the 
tower gate. He helped me off my horse and inside, once again ensconcing me in the 
rooms Id had before. 
After a rest, I told the tale of our expedition to Cavarre and Prince Scrainwood. My 
story had little of the organization of this account and probably did sound like the 
ravings of a madman. At that time I was truly exhausted and as I told them what had 
happened, the grief I felt for my lost friends hammered me and ground down my spirit. 
I relapsed into fever and Dothan Cavarre saw to my care. He insisted I remain as his 
guest until my health was again restored. It was not until later that I discovered he did 
this at Prince Scrainwoods orderthough, truth be told, Cavarre was the sort of man to 
have kept me there if he felt it was the best thing. 
It certainly was not bad for me. Nay and Leigh had long since headed south to 
Valsina, wishing to make it home before winter set in. Still, there were enough people 
around who I knew to provide me ample visitors, and Cavarre took great delight in 
showing me all the steps being taken to restore Fortress Draconis. Resolute and Sprynt 
even stayed for a while, though they left on a ship for Yslin when word came through of 
Prince Augustus triumphant campaign in Okran-nel and his return to Yslin. 
Prince Scrainwood had left for Yslin the day after I told my story. I had not been sorry 
to learn of his departure. I had heard, of course, the old saw that one should keep 
friends close and enemies closer, but somehow the only enemies I thought I had in the 
world were to the north. 
I learned my error when, in the spring, a ship came to Fortress Draconis with orders 
to take me to Yslin.

T suppose I should have known things were odd well before I I stepped onto the 
Tectus for the journey to Yslin. During my 1 time at Fortress Draconis I was never 
summoned to the Phoenix Knights hall. To be perfectly honest I never sought to make 
contact with the Knights because my memory of all the rituals was bound up with images 
of Leigh and Nay and Lord Norrington. I spent a lot of time that winter doing all I could 
to avoid revisiting those memories. 
Even so, I would have thought the Knights would have called me before them to 
praise me for surviving or to ask after Lord Norringtons demise, or even to chasten me 
for failing to die with my comrades. At the very least they could have summoned me so 
I could learn more of my rank duties. From them I heard nothing, and even though I 
spent a lot of time with Cavarre, he never gave me any sign that he even knew what the 
Knights were, much less ran the lodge at Fortress 
Draconis. 
The ship that had been sent for me, the Tectus, was a small ship with a single mast 
and only eight oars. It could not make a lot of speed unless the wind or sea ran in our 
favor. Tagothcha allowed us to sail on unmolested and an unseason-able wind from the 
north propelled us south. We skirted Vor-quellyn, then slid past Wruona, Vael, and 
Vilwan as if we were invisible. 
The fare of dried meat, fish stew, and hard-baked biscuits proved slightly more 
tolerable than the company I was given. The crew ignored me almost entirely and the 
captain only spoke to me when it would have been painfully awkward not to 
acknowledge my existence. The only person who regularly did speak with me was an 
Oriosan who had been the envoy to bring my summons to me. 
Cabot Marsham was and yet is an odious little man who has grown more sour and 
scheming over the years. I mistook the contempt in which he held me for some sort of 
jealousy, or pique over the fact that I, someone a good five years his junior, had been 
the reason he had to endure two long weeks on the sea while it was still so cold. The 
only things about him that were softer and thinner than his hairwhich he still had 
thenwere his arms and legs. In many ways he seemed to me to be a child playing at 
being an adult, and the faint little moustache that dusted his upper lip did nothing to 
dispel this impression. 
Marsham asked incessantly about my adventures and, for lack of any other 
companionship, I made the mistake of indulging 
him. I confided in him many 
detailsof conversations 
and encountersthat I consider so trivial to have omitted from 
this record, yet he wove them into a web that, before I knew it, had me all entangled. 
We reached Yslin without incident and I was conducted to Fortress Gryps straight 
away. I was given a suite of rooms to myself and two servants so I would never be left 
unaccompanied. 
They saw to my every need and I discovered many of them had been 
anticipated. The wardrobe in my suite had already been filled with clothes cut to fit me 
perfectly. 
Within two days of my arrival I was deemed recovered enough from my long 
voyage to be summoned. In the company 
of guards I descended to the Great Hall and 
received my first substantial shock when I entered the room. I last remembered 
it as the 
home to the Council of Kings, with a dozen r^+~-l ~ 
now, though, tables had been arranged in long rows, akin to the oar-benches on a 
galley, with the leaders or ambassadors from every nation in the world represented. 
Each sat beneath a national banner hung from the ceiling, with all three elven homelands 
and even a couple of urZrethi homelands represented. 
Duke Reed Larner, Chamberlain to Queen Lanivette of Oriosa, introduced me to the 
royal assemblage. He asked me to swear an oath to tell the truth, which I did, then he 
asked me to tell the leaders of the world about the expedition. I did so, as best I was 
able, and certainly made a better job of it that time than I did when speaking to Dothan

Cavarre and Prince Scrainwood at Fortress Draconis. 
I think I realized I was on trial as my narrative ended and the questions began. An 
ambassador from Nybal stood toward the back of the room. Is it true that at Fortress 
Draconis you struck Prince Scrainwood of Oriosa not once, but twice? 
I hesitated, since that had not been part of my tale. It is true. Hed run in terror in 
the face of the enemy. I wanted to bring him to his senses, so I slapped him. Twice. 
My response raced a murmur through the royals. I decided, 
albeit too late, that 
telling royalty that Id decided one of their number needed to be slapped was not a good 
idea. At least, I hoped they were protesting my slapping him. If they were protesting the 
possibility of one of their company needing 
to be brought to his senses, well, the world 
was lost. 
Another person asked if it were true that I discarded a powerful weapon, one that 
could have killed sullanciri, by cavalierly 
tossing it into the sea. Yet another wanted to 
know how it was that all my fellows, who were far more experienced than I in the ways 
of warfare, died in Boragul and I survived. 
That is a question I have asked myself every day since then. 
And the answer you have come up with is? 
If I had an answer, would I keep asking the question? 
The questions tailed off into inquiries about obscure details 
asked, I think, just so 
members of delegations could prove they had listened to me and, apparently, listened to 
others who spoke about me. When no more questions were offered, I was escorted back 
to my suite and locked in. While I did not want for material needs, a lack of freedom 
weighs one down more than any chains ever could. I was permitted no visitors and 
could neither send nor receive messages. 
And I am assuming that at least one person, someone, anyone, did wish to speak 
with me. 
The fact that I was not allowed visitors did not mean people 
were prevented from 
entering my apartments. My last morning there I awoke to find a fine black ash on my 
bedroom floor. It was laid out in the shape of a ceremonial robe and I knew no Phoenix 
Knight would be rising from those ashes. The message delivered in that way got through 
to me as nothing 
else had, and in that moment I think I grew up more than I had even 
through the events of the previous year. 
I presented a problem for the rulers of the world. The previous year, at their 
command, a task force had gone forth and, at great cost, broken the Aurolani army. 
Prince Augustus had undertaken an operation that rescued the refugee population 
of 
Okrannel, though Aurolani forces, now reduced to roving bandit bands and local warlord 
militias, still controlled Okrannel. Jerana had held them back at their border and 
expatriate 
Okrans gathered there preparing to win their homeland 
back. Even the siege 
of Fortress Draconis had been lifted and Chytrine had fled. 
In fact, everything had gone perfectly, save for the last strike at her, and I was the 
only person who tarnished the image of the heroes who had been sent forth. I was the 
one who said they had succumbed to Chytrines temptations. I was the one who reported 
they had become her creatures, but I could offer no proof. I can see that my story 
sounded suspect. 
Or could easily have been made to sound suspect. 
I was summoned back to the Council that day and ordered to stand before the 
assembly as Duke Larner read a list of refutations to what I had told others. 
The royal personages assembled here have decided and concluded the following to 
be facts: First, it is inconceivable that the persons entrusted with seeing to the 
well-being of the nations assembled here would, at any time, under any circumstances, 
join forces with the evil they were sent to destroy.

Second, according to testimony offered by other witnesses, 
the Boreal Pass has such 
snowfall in it that it will take thirty years for it to be passable again, eliminating any 
threat from Aurolan beyond the rovers who slip through the mountains 
from time to 
time. 
I laughed aloud. You can say that to ease the fears of the common folks, but you 
know its not true. And, even if it was, she could come through Boragul. 
The Duke stared down at the foolscap upon which the refutations had been written 
and refused to look at me. Third, according to urZrethi scouts who, in the company of 
the Vorquelf, Resolute, traveled to Boragul, that urZrethi stronghold is completely 
abandoned. It is open to the weather and completely uninhabitable. No gibberkin 
nurseries were located, no temeryces or any other creature were seen, and no urZrethi 
were in residence. 
Fourth, it is deduced that Tarrant Hawkins of Oriosa, a man who has admitted to 
striking the Prince of his nation, a man who is notorious for having stolen the sword 
Temmer to reap glory for himself at Fortress Draconis, a man who clearly was not 
prepared for the difficulties of the trek north, did get separated from the company of 
heroes and survived the horrible 
fate that overtook them. It is deduced that they sent 
him away, to preserve his life or even to summon help, and that in a confused state he 
himself was attacked and would have been slain save for the intervention of others. To 
believe otherwise of him would be to believe he had actively betrayed his companions, 
having allied himself with Chytrine, thereby committing 
treason against every civilized 
nation and earning the just rewards of same. 
I stiffened as he read that final article. I marveled at the work of politicians because I 
found it as deadly and beautiful as a master swordsmans bladework. They would allow 
me to admit I had been sent back by my fellows and, through no fault of my own, had 
failed to bring them help. The only alternative was to be branded a traitor, and actually 
being branded a traitor was the least of the punishments I could face for that crime. In 
essence they were telling me that if I disputed 
their findings, Id be put to death. 
Even I could see how futile a gesture that would be. Duke Larner looked up at me. 
Do you understand what has been read to you? 
I do. 
Do you accept these conclusions as the truth? 
Are they the truth? I looked out at the rulers assembled there. The pass will 
reopen, we know that. Boragul may be abandoned now, but always? You know that the 
story I told you is true, but it is a story you cannot allow to be told. If it is told, if I go 
out and tell it, then your people will know that the security they believe they have now is 
a lie. Perhaps this generation 
is safe, but what of the next? 
I opened my hands. I will accept what you say of me provided you know that 
Chytrine will return, whether in five years or ten or thirty. If you do nothing to prepare 
for her return, the blood of thousands, of hundreds of thousands, will be on your hands. 
Whether you are alive or dead, your names will become a curse and your memories will 
be mocked. 
Scrainwood shot to his feet at his mothers side. Rage purpled 
the lower parts of his 
face and sent a quiver through the finger he pointed at me. You are in no position to 
dictate to us, traitor! 
The pure venom in his voice was meant to hurt me, but instead it made me laugh. 
And you, Prince Scrainwood, know better than the others the horror that will descend 
upon us when Chytrine comes back. Dont let your cowardice shield you from what you 
know to be true. 
His voice dropped to a cruel whisper. What I know to be true is this, Tarrant 
Hawkins. I know the rulers here gathered have decided, in their wisdom, to set you free,

to let you live out your life as you might. But we of Oriosa are not so kindly disposed to 
those who flout authority, strike their betters, and sully the reputations of heroes. You 
are henceforth and forev-ermore banished from Oriosa. 
Scrainwood waved someone into the room. I heard bootheels click across the floor, 
then found mvself facing my father. A smile lit my face, then drained away as it found 
no mate on his face. 
I saw no warmth in his eyes. Father? 
You left Kenwick Norrington to die and lied about it. 
Father, I ... 
He raised a hand as if to strike me. I have no son named Tarrant. Reaching his hand 
out, he grasped the top edge of my mask and tore it away. 
The day they took my mask was the day Tarrant Hawkins died. 
The story of Hawkins and the DragonCrown continues in Fortress 
Draconis, which is 
now available. 
ABOUT THE AUTHOR 
The author hopes this book will stay in print for a long time, which means this bio would 
become dated very quickly. For up-to-date information about him, please visit 
www.Stormwolf.com. The information there should amuse and enlighten. Best of all, its 
not a waste of treeflesh. 

