Date: 2020-12-20T18:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: War looms on the horizon but Selene’s training as a wizard must begin, even though her age makes success nearly unattainable. Will searches for a solution, but their only hope may be a dangerous bargain with the king. The fate of two nations lies on Will’s shoulders and the future is paved with violence. With few options, he needs the aid of uncertain allies and dubious friends. Traitors lurk among them, and soon he will be forced to choose who to trust—and who to sacrifice. For a terrible power has arrived in Darrow, and the price of victory will be paid in blood.
Publisher: Michael Manning

Disciple of War

By

Michael G. Manning

Cover by Amalia Chitulescu

Editing by Keri Karandrakis

Map Artwork by Maxime Plasse

© 2020 by Michael G. Manning

All rights reserved.

For more information about the Mageborn series check out the author’s Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/MagebornAuthor

or visit the website:

http://www.magebornbooks.com/

Chapter 1

Breakfast was disappointing. Will had woken up late and when he finished dressing and came down, he discovered Selene waiting for him at the dining table. She pointed at his plate, which sat opposite hers at the table. He grimaced as he saw the contents—poached eggs, toasted bread, and a sausage that someone had sliced in half with the obvious intent to sear one side.

The sausage and toast had both been burned, and the eggs were a disaster. Properly done, a poached egg was a neat, tidy little package, but these were a messy horror of diaphanous whites that made them look like mutilated jellyfish. Will sighed deeply.

“Sit down,” said Selene with a smile. “Today—”

Will shook his head. “One second. I have to straighten something out.” He headed for the kitchen, looking for Blake Word.

Blake was their only servant, since Will had been too stubborn to hire a proper staff as most noble families did. The older man was a veteran and had previously served the king as an assassin and a special operative. After Blake had gotten older the king had reassigned him to serve as Selene’s chief servant and bodyguard. When Will had married her, Blake had come along as their butler of sorts.

Will had fought with him previously over food. Blake had no natural talent for cooking, but he tried. Will had discouraged him strenuously in the beginning and finally had relented to teaching him instead. Blake had improved a good deal, though it was unlikely he would ever meet the standards that Arrogan had instilled in Will.

But today, it was as if the manservant had regressed to his former incompetence.

He found Blake standing in the kitchen, looking nervous. “Good morning, sir.”

Will’s eyes said it all, but his mouth had lots of footnotes to add. “What possessed you this morning? Did you forget how to cook a sausage? Were you distracted? Maybe senile dementia has already set in?”

“Actually, sir, about that—”

Will held up one finger. “Don’t start making excuses. We’ve been over this. If you’re too busy to cook, then don’t. It isn’t fair to the food, and it isn’t fair to the people who have to eat what you’ve ruined.” He took a deep breath, then the image of the eggs came to mind. “And what the hell did you do with the eggs? You haven’t screwed up a poached egg that badly in months!”

Blake’s face went white and he held up one hand, pointing in Will’s direction.

“What? You’re blaming me? Spit out what you want to say.”

“Good morning, Your Highness!” said Blake loudly. “William and I were just discussing the shopping I plan to do later.”

Will turned and saw that Selene had entered the kitchen behind him. She bore an odd expression on her face, as though she’d been hurt by something but was doing her best to contain it. It was a stark contrast to the cheerful smile she’d had only a moment ago. He looked back at Blake, then at Selene once more. Gradually, his brain caught up with the situation and he realized his error.

Selene was wearing an apron, and Blake was not. Oh, Holy Mother! Will felt the blood drain from his face. She cooked for me.

Given her expression, it was all too clear that she had heard what he had said. She turned away and went back to the dining room. Will gave Blake a spiteful look, then hissed, “Next time warn me!”

The manservant shrugged helplessly, then mouthed the words, ‘Sorry, I couldn’t stop her.’

Selene returned and walked past them quietly, two plates in her hands. She went to the kitchen door.

It was obvious what she meant to do. “Wait!” called Will. “I haven’t eaten mine yet.”

She opened the door and dumped the contents into the scrap bin, then returned put the plates down. Without looking at Will, she told Blake, “I have a meeting at noon. I’ll be heading into the city early. Get the carriage ready for me.”

“Selene, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

She interrupted him, “William, we can talk later. My stomach isn’t feeling well right now. I’ll be upstairs changing. I’ll see you this evening.” With that, she left the room.

Will knew she was angry. Selene only called him ‘William’ on formal occasions, or when she was mad. As a result of her royal upbringing, she was excellent at hiding her emotions, but that was always a giveaway. And I certainly deserved it, he thought.

Thinking back to the optimistic expression she’d had on her face just a few minutes ago only made him feel worse. Selene had returned several months ago, and now that summer had arrived, Will looked forward to spending more time with her without classes getting in the way, but lately it seemed he kept putting the wrong foot forward.

The biggest issue between them lately had been her training. She’d insisted they should move to the next stage, but Will kept delaying. While Aislinn had claimed that Selene was ready, he didn’t believe it. She’d brought Selene back almost the moment the heart-stone enchantment was removed. It was all too convenient. And if I get it wrong, she could die.

He couldn’t imagine what that would be like. He didn’t think he could live with himself if she died because of a mistake on his part. Actually, he wasn’t sure he could survive even if it was someone else’s fault. She was everything to him.

Rather than sulk, he went to the Alchemy building to check on his latest batch of potions. Ever since the near-disaster when Tiny and Janice had almost died, he had resolved to never be caught unprepared again. He had long since converted all the troll urine he’d obtained into regeneration potions, and he now had thirty-four of the precious vials stored in the limnthal. He’d also been disciplined in his manufacture of other potions. The phosphorous he had liberated had been turned into more than two hundred vials of alchemist’s fire, and he had produced nearly fifty vials of Dragon’s Heart potions after several rounds of what he called ‘vampire milking.’

As disgusting as the name sounded, it was far nicer than the actual process of hydrating his imprisoned vampire with fresh pig’s blood, then bleeding the monster for its vital fluids. He had long since quit storing the foul creature in the limnthal too. After perfecting his process of harvesting, he had also obtained a large chest with solid iron sides to store the vampire’s nearly dead body within until he needed it again. To further increase the security of the setup he had put a ward in place that would flood the chest with a simpler version of Ethelgren’s light spell if someone opened the chest without using the proper command word. The spell would destroy the vampire rather than allow it to escape or be used for darker purposes.

The ward had been courtesy of Selene’s assistance, as she was a far more accomplished spell caster. It had been a frustrating project for her, though, since she wasn’t allowed to do any magic herself. She had to teach Will and be patient as he stumbled through the process. There had been several cutting remarks regarding which of them was the actual apprentice and who was the teacher.

At the Alchemy building, he found that his latest batch of blood-cleanse potions were ready for decanting and activation, so he set about his work. It was a tedious process, so he found his mind wandering frequently, and when he looked around the small lab, he remembered some of the wild events that had happened there. He didn’t miss the events, but he did miss the people.

Tiny had returned with Sir Kyle to Barrowden, and the Nerrow family had left the capital and returned to their estate which lay three days’ travel to the south. The family’s ancestral dwelling was on the coast, and the closest village was a small hamlet named Nettlehurst, which was slightly smaller than the village Will had grown up in—or so he was told, since he had never been there.

The departure of the Nerrow family had been painful for him, although he’d done his best not to show them just how deeply it had affected him; the weeks that they had shared his home had been both stressful and wonderful. It had given him a chance to get to know Tabitha, his younger sister, whose playful side hid a warm and sometimes overly serious heart. It had also given him time to adjust to his new relationship with Laina, who continued to pretend to find him irritating while simultaneously serving as his greatest defender whenever she felt their father might be trying to push him away.

It had been a delicate balancing act, since neither Agnes—their mother—nor Tabitha was aware of the fact that Mark Nerrow was his father. Now that they were gone, the home he shared with Selene seemed large and empty.

After finishing up with the potions, he went to his favorite spot and ran through his daily spell practice. The recent vampire disaster had underscored his need to improve his skills as quickly as possible, for every time it seemed that they were needed he found himself lacking in some way. No matter how quickly he grew it was never enough and after seeing Linus Ethelgren and Androv in action, he knew just how far he had to go before he would be at their level.

Arrogan had told him that most wizards needed a full century to mature and come into their power, although they continued to improve even after that. He’d also mentioned that most didn’t train the way Will did. When you expect to live several hundred years, time loses some of its urgency.

He didn’t expect to become as well rounded as a wizard with a century under his belt, but if he could at least expand his repertoire and strengthen his abilities, he might be better prepared the next time the world decided to come crashing down on his head.

First, he ran through every spell he’d learned, from the simplest to the most complex, preparing and dismissing them each in turn. That list now included all the spells in Arrogan’s old journal, plus a collection of force spells that he hoped would give him more flexibility in different situations. Force-walls, domes, half-walls, spheres, and even a traveling disk that Arrogan had told him about. To that he had also added a small selection of elemental spells, including the earth-and-air travel-disk that Arrogan had used when he didn’t want to tie up his force spell abilities.

The latest spell he had mastered was the iron-body transformation, though it was still difficult and time consuming for him to prepare. For the time being, it was definitely a spell he would keep prepared since it was unlikely he would ever manage to cast the spell in a high-pressure situation if he needed it.

Once he had gone through all those spells, he began practicing his other new additions. Although he had returned Battling the Darkness to the school library, Master Courtney had allowed him to retain the book long enough to copy out the spells it contained. Although the relic, Ethelgren’s Exhortation, had been destroyed, many of the spell effects that it had been able to produce were based on spells that Ethelgren had created.

Some of the most useful, at least in Will’s opinion, were the simplest, such as the illusory chime spell. The spell was named so because it produced several different chime tones that only the caster could hear, and they communicated whether someone nearby was using a chameleon spell or similar means of hiding, as well as the direction of the detected person. He also favored the silver-sword spell and the cloak-of-light spells, as well as Ethelgren’s favored attack spell, light-darts.

The cloak-of-light spell was only useful against vampires, but the silver-sword spell greatly enhanced the cutting and destructive power of any bladed weapon it was cast upon. The light-darts spell was similar to a force-lance, except that it had several options to increase its flexibility. For one, it was tuned such that it was effective against both demons and daylight-sensitive monsters like vampires; for another, it could be altered on the fly to fire up to five missiles at once. The spell had two main drawbacks, as far as Will could see: One, it wasn’t a force spell, so even if he eventually learned to reflex cast it, it would never be quite as quick to cast as his force-lance, and two, despite being tailored for demons and vampires, the spell could still kill humans. It wasn’t quite as devastating as the fist-sized hole a force-lance ripped through a body, but it still burned a finger-sized hole through flesh, which was lethal enough, depending on where it hit.

In the end, Will’s main reason for practicing the light-darts spell was because of its range. Being an elemental type spell, it didn’t require more turyn to use over long distances, and since the attack was a type of light, it reached its target near instantaneously, even if it wasn’t a force effect. With a force-lance he was limited to forty yards at best, and at that range he could only cast it a few times before being exhausted, due to the exponential increase in turyn cost, but with Ethelgren’s light-darts spell, he could potentially strike a target up to two hundred yards distant, if his aim was good enough.

From what Laina had told him, fire-bolts were limited to just under a hundred yards before they began to fizzle. That meant the light-darts might give him a significant advantage in a long-distance battle, if he could hit the target. He had soon discovered that hitting a man-sized object at two hundred yards wasn’t easy.

To practice his marksmanship, he went to a special range that had only recently been set up. Will’s early efforts, even with the less destructive light-darts, had been too much for the landscaping, so he had approached several of the instructors about the possibility of setting up a range where students could practice. In years past, the idea would have been unthinkable, but since the vampire incidents, the school’s policies regarding the teaching of battle magics had loosened up. Quite a few students were now interested in practicing their skills using a variety of ranged elemental attacks.

The range itself had been set up at the northern edge of the campus, where the school’s wall merged with the larger city wall. The wall served as the ultimate backstop, but a broad earthen mound had been raised in front of it to prevent missed shots from damaging the stonework. Wooden targets of various shapes and sizes stoon in front of the berm, and replaced often, as repeated shots inevitably destroyed them. There was no shortage of scrap wood in Cerria these days, not since Ethelgren’s interrupted ritual had destroyed a small portion of the city.

Today the range was deserted, so Will began putting holes in targets at a variety of ranges. The light-darts spell took him roughly two seconds to prepare each time, but it was simple enough that he figured he could get the time down to a second, at least until he reached the point where he could reflex cast it.

There were several spells he would love to be able to reflex cast: the iron-body transformation, the light-darts spell, and the force-dome spell were at the top of his list. Currently, he was practicing so many different spells each day that he really wasn’t sure where his next breakthrough would be. But for now, I need to focus on improving my accuracy, he reminded himself.

He practiced for several hours, but he didn’t feel like he had really improved. At a hundred yards he could hit a man-sized target about three times out of four; at two hundred it was about fifty percent of the time, and that just didn’t feel good enough. Footsteps alerted him to someone’s approach, and he turned to see Elizabeth Sundy walking toward him.

“Scholar Sundy,” he said, giving a deferential nod. It was the first time he had seen her since the night she had helped him with the ritual to purge the city of vampires, and he noticed that she now had a water elemental hovering over her shoulder. “Congratulations on your elemental.”

She smiled faintly. “I see I’m not the only one who thought it might be a good idea to get some practice in.”

“Should a researcher be worried about battle magic?” he asked.

“After what we went through I’ll never be able to sleep without knowing I can defend myself.”

He nodded. “It helps that you have an elemental now. You don’t have to shorten your life to practice new skills.”

Elizabeth glanced around, making sure they were still alone. “I don’t intend to keep it. When I get older, I’ll release it.”

Will raised one brow. “Master Courtney told you?”

She nodded. “Even more importantly, if you could help us understand how you became the way you are, it would be easier to get rid of the elementals.” Looking down the range, she sighted on a target and unleashed a fire bolt.

“Wouldn’t a water attack be simpler since you have a water elemental?” he asked.

Elizabeth shrugged. “For the elemental, but the turyn that it gives me is converted to my natural turyn mixture by the heart-stone enchantment. I actually lean a little bit more toward fire, so fire spells are easier.”

That wasn’t something he had really thought about before, but it made sense, so Will filed it away along with all the other random information he had learned about magic and spellcraft. The sun was starting to get low in the sky, so he decided it would be good to return home. It was time to face the music. “I need to be going,” he told Elizabeth. “Good luck with your practice.”

Chapter 2

Will had given himself enough time to start cooking, but when he arrived home, he could already smell something on the stove. Feeling wary, he stepped in the front door only to be greeted by Blake. “Her Highness is upstairs in the study.”

“Are you cooking?”

Blake pressed his lips together, a worried expression on his face. “That’s Jeremy, the new cook.”

He gaped at Blake. “You hired a cook?”

The man’s eyes went toward the stairs and then up in the direction of the study. “It wasn’t my decision, sir.”

“Oh.” Will finally understood. This is how she wants to punish me. He had come in feeling regretful, but now he was already shifting to annoyance. Hiring a cook was a disproportionate reaction to his behavior that morning. “I guess I’ll go up and discuss matters with her then.”

“As you wish, sir,” said Blake neutrally, though his face conveyed a subtle warning.

Will didn’t care. He marched up the stairs and went to the study. The door was already open, and Selene was sitting at the desk penning a letter with her flawlessly elegant script. He felt a faint sense of envy every time he saw it. After two years of struggling at Wurthaven, his own handwriting was just barely legible.

Selene glanced up at him, then held up a finger. She reached for the sand and sprinkled a portion over the page, then lifted it and poured it back into the box. Eyeing the page, she decided it was acceptable and then set it aside in a tray to finish drying. With that done, she capped her ink bottle and put away her pen. Once things had been tidied up, she gave him her full attention. “Ready to talk?”

Will pulled up the other chair and sat down. “Already done with your correspondence?”

She pursed her lips, then replied, “No. I have quite a few more to pen, but you’re more important than that.”

That put him back on his heels. He hadn’t had many arguments with Selene, but soon after her return he had quickly figured out he was outmatched. She never fought while she was actually angry, as she had been that morning. Instead, she would set her feelings aside and return to the battle later, after she had consolidated her arguments. It probably had something to do with her strange upbringing, but Will never knew how to deal with it. At the moment she was cool and reasonable, leaving him at a loss for how to approach the subject. “About this morning, I had no idea you wanted to cook. If I had known—”

“You’d what? Pretend to like the food?” She lifted one brow. “I don’t want false praise.”

“Even so, what I said was too much.”

“You think my feelings were hurt because you insulted the food?”

He nodded.

Selene covered her face with both hands.

“Hiring a cook was a little over the top, though,” added Will.

Her fingers opened and she stared at him through them. “I’m not angry about what you said about the food. I was angry because of what you said to Blake.”

Will frowned. “Huh?”

“Would you like to know the easiest way to judge a nobleman? Watch how he treats his servants. What I saw this morning was ugly. It made me so sick I wanted to empty my stomach. How could you talk to him like that?”

He tilted his head to one side. “That’s just how we talk. Blake’s a friend.”

“I’ve never seen you talk to anyone else like that. Certainly not your other friends.”

His jaw dropped. Thinking back on it, he realized that if one were to actually look at the words he had used, they were pretty harsh. But his relationship with Blake was different somehow, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. His mouth went with the first thing that popped into his head. “He was in the army.”

“He isn’t in the army now. He’s your employee.”

Agitated, Will got out of the chair and began to pace. “I eat with Blake. While you were gone, we lived together like two bachelors. I don’t treat him like a servant. Even Tiny commented on it while he was here. You think I abuse him? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’ve never felt that way before, but after what I saw this morning…”

It was Will’s turn to cover his face with both hands. He took a moment to carefully put his thoughts together. “I think I can explain,” he said at last. “Blake isn’t a cook. I never asked him to cook, but he took it on himself a few times, and even ignored my requests when I told him not to. As a result, it got to be sort of a running game between us, and then later he asked me to teach him. In return he’s been helping me with my swordsmanship.”

She stared at him suspiciously. “You were angry this morning.”

He sighed. “Well, that’s true. I was just shocked. He cooks better than that. I was looking forward to making breakfast, and then when I saw what was on your plate, I did overreact.”

Selene nodded. “Maybe I did as well. Blake told me much the same thing you just did.” Rising from her chair, she rounded the desk and moved to give him a hug. After a few seconds, she pushed herself away so she could study his eyes. “What you might not realize is how things were for me when I was growing up.”

Lognion. Will hadn’t considered that angle, and he certainly wouldn’t doubt the man was capable of every sort of cruelty. “Did your father mistreat the servants?”

“Surprisingly, no,” she answered. “He always believed in treating them well, except for instances where punishment needed to be meted out. No, what I meant was his treatment of my friends. When I was small, I played with some of the servants’ children.”

“What happened?”

“I snuck into his office one day. I wanted to borrow some paper to play with. I was only seven at the time, and I accidentally knocked over the inkwell, spoiling a number of important documents. When Father found out I was playing with the daughter of one of the washerwomen, he confronted me about it, and I lied.”

Will winced. He had firsthand experience with how Lognion reacted to lies.

“He wouldn’t punish me directly, though,” said Selene. “Instead, he had Lena whipped in my place—while I watched.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s awful,” exclaimed Will.

“It was a long time ago. I’m well past it now, but things like this morning, watching you berate Blake for what I cooked...”

He scratched his head sheepishly. “I feel like a real jerk now.”

“Let’s forget about this morning,” she suggested. “There’s something else I’d like to talk about.”

Will’s stomach tightened. He already knew the topic she wanted to address. “Maybe we should get to that another day.”

Her eyes hardened. “You’ve said that dozens of times now. I’ve been back for months and nothing has changed. You’re done with school for the summer. If we miss this chance, we might not have the time to try again later.”

“What do you think might happen?” he asked, frowning.

“Anything!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been a royal my entire life. There’s always something that demands attention. I’ve learned not to squander my opportunities.”

“I think we need more time.”

“You think I need more time, or you think you need more time?” she said pointedly.

He rubbed his face reflexively, then stared at her for a moment before admitting, “I’m scared.”

“I’m the one who has to suffer,” she countered. “Why should you be afraid?”

“Because you’re the one who has to suffer,” he said, emphasizing the point. “I can take anything but that, and I don’t want to consider what might happen if you don’t—” He stopped, unable to continue.

Selene grabbed his collar and pulled his face closer before planting a heavy kiss on his lips. She released him and replied, “I’m not going to die. You said yourself that my chances are good.”

“Maybe in a few weeks,” he said hesitantly.

“I’m sick of waiting. Now.”

“No.”

“You’ll say the same in a few weeks. You have a choice to make. Teach me or let me go.”

Will’s eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

“What it sounds like. I’m not going to let you watch me get old and die before you even get started on your long life. If you want me as your wife, help me, so that I can be there with you for as many centuries as you’re blessed to live.”

“You’re already my wife.”

Her face darkened. “And I’m glad to have you for a husband, but that could change if you aren’t willing to bring me with you into your future.”

“But…”

She held out her hands. “A few decades, or a few centuries? I know which I would prefer. And if things go wrong, you’re still young enough to find love again.” Her voice was cool and rational.

He closed his eyes. “So be it.”

Her arms went around him, but after a few seconds she pulled his head back to look at his face. “You’re shaking! What’s wrong?”

“I told you I’m scared,” he answered angrily. “You’re old for this and I’m not experienced. You may think I could start over without you, but I couldn’t. After everything else I’ve been through, losing you would be the death of me.”

She kissed him again, and nothing more was said for a short while, then he tried to pull away. “I should get the stove ready.”

Selene held onto his hand. “Jeremy is cooking.” There was a mischievous smile on her lips, and she glanced out the door in the direction of their bedroom. Will understood her meaning immediately.

Later, after they had risen, eaten, and retired again, Will left her alone and went to the study by himself. He closed the door and activated the limnthal. “Selene’s impatient.”

Arrogan picked up his meaning. “It has been a while.”

“You made me wait a year or more.”

“Her case is different,” said his grandfather. “She’s well past the proper age, and she’s already an accomplished practitioner. I don’t think waiting will improve things.”

“Can I really do this?” asked Will.

“You? Definitely, your part is easy. You just put the spell on her and watch her suffer. When it gets to the really bad part, you’ll have to restrain her, as I did with you. The real problem is that you can only paralyze her, no more.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember me telling you that masters who taught their apprentices some magic early on sometimes took decades to train them through the first stage of turyn control?”

The thought of that horrified him. “Is that going to happen here?”

“Selene knows very well how to use her turyn. Once it starts to put pressure on her, to hurt, she’s going to want to vent some of it. Eventually she’s almost guaranteed to start using spells, and that will set her back to square one. She’ll never learn to compress her source if she gives in to the impulse to use magic. You can use a source-link to paralyze her, but you can’t separate her from her source, otherwise she won’t be able to learn to control it.”

“But if she can touch her source, she’ll be able to use spells,” muttered Will.

“Exactly,” said the ring. “That’s why it’s so hard after they know how to use magic. You can’t stop them, or they won’t learn, but at the same time, they almost can’t help themselves once they feel as though they’re going to die from the turyn building up within them.”

Will still vividly remembered the sensation, locked inside his body while it felt as though his flesh was on fire. The pressure had gotten so great that he was sure he was about to die at any moment. If he had known how to cast a spell of any kind, he would have started doing so compulsively to lessen the pressure. Imagining Selene going through that torment bothered him immensely.

“One thing in your favor,” said Arrogan. “If she’s strong-willed enough to nearly kill herself fighting her father’s control through the heart-stone enchantment, then she ought to be strong enough to hold out long enough to learn this.”

“I hope so,” said Will. “What do I need to do first?”

“You already know the spells. The only thing left is to make sure she isn’t pregnant.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t have to worry about that with you, but make sure you remember it for all future female students,” added Arrogan.

“I didn’t mishear you then.”

“No. It’s another benefit to younger apprentices. They’re less likely to be married, or otherwise engaged in activities of that sort. Remember how sick you were after you first compressed your source?”

“I do.” Will had been weak and lethargic for nearly a month until his body had learned to adapt to the lack of turyn coming from his source. It wasn’t until later that he’d learned that he was actually beginning to absorb environmental turyn to make up for the missing energy. “Will she be able to have children later?”

“Think about that for a minute, then explain to me why you’re such an idiot.”

He wanted to smack himself. “Aislinn was your teacher, and you had children much later.”

“Exactly. Once her body adjusts to whatever level she eventually reaches, everything will be fine, but until then, it’s important she does not get pregnant or she’s almost certain to miscarry.”

“So how do I check?” asked Will, feeling suddenly nervous. His grandmother’s previous injunction against them being intimate suddenly made sense. Before she had gone into hiding with Aislinn, Selene had used a spell to prevent pregnancy, but during the months since her return, they had been enthusiastically making up for lost time. And she hasn’t been allowed to use spells.

“There’s a spell for it. Perhaps you can get that doctor who keeps stitching you up to teach it to you.”

Chapter 3

The next morning Will woke early, intending to make a quick visit to see Doctor Morris, but before he could escape the bedroom Selene opened one eye. “Are you trying to sneak off?”

Will froze with his hand on the door handle. “No. I just wanted to take care of an errand before you woke.”

Her other eye joined the first in wakefulness. “What errand?”

For some reason, he had hoped to avoid the conversation. In his mind he had envisioned himself simply getting a quick explanation of the spell and then returning to cast it surreptitiously on Selene before beginning the compression of her source. It had been a foolish thought. “I need to learn a spell to see if you’re… uh…”

“If I’m what?”

He’d been around any number of pregnant women when he was growing up, and had even helped his mother deliver a few babies, but for some reason with Selene he felt intensely embarrassed. “If you’re with child.”

“With child—are you asking if I’m pregnant?”

He nodded.

“I’m not,” she said confidently. “You could have just asked me. I can even teach you the spell if you want to check for yourself.”

“Oh.” Feeling foolish, he waited for her to rise and then went to the study with her where Selene wrote out the spell. It wasn’t too difficult, being about third-order if he had to guess. With a few minutes of study, he constructed the spell and tried it out and saw a flash of yellow light around his wife, indicating she wasn’t pregnant. Green would have been the color if she were with child, followed by a pink or blue flash to indicate the child’s gender if the pregnancy had gone past the first two months.

“Told you,” she said smugly.

“I had to be sure.”

“Is it dangerous for an unborn child?”

He nodded. “It’s dangerous for you. A baby wouldn’t survive if you were carrying one. How did you know you weren’t pregnant?”

“We’ve been careful,” she said, her voice changing slightly. “Plus, I’m sure I would have noticed some changes. Call it a woman’s intuition.”

Will frowned at her. Something was off. “We haven’t been that careful, and since you haven’t been allowed to use spells you haven’t been using the prophylaxis spell.”

She smiled. “I guess we got lucky.”

“You aren’t hiding anything, are you?” he asked.

“You don’t trust me?” she asked innocently.

“Of course I do, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t telling a white lie.”

She winked at him. “Trust is like clothing…” Will winced at the words, for his friends had been teasing him about his attempt at a wise metaphor ever since the vampire incident. Selene went on, loosening the front of her robe, “Perhaps you’d like me to surrender my clothing? Would that help?”

Will chuckled. “Fine, you win.”

“Can we start now?”

“I had planned on eating breakfast, but—”

“But what?”

He shrugged. “You’re not going to be hungry afterward. It might be better to have an empty stomach, although I would definitely make sure you take care of any other morning business before we start.”

“Is this so bad I won’t be able to pee?”

“Not exactly, but it would be best to be as comfortable as possible before we start. You won’t be comfortable again for quite some time.”

“How long?”

“For me it was an afternoon and most of a night in misery. After that, I just felt awful for a month or so.”

Selene headed for the door. “I’ll be right back then.”

Will sat down behind the desk, and while he waited, he formed the source-cage spell that would force Selene to halve her turyn production—or eventually kill her if she failed to do so. The scary part was that the final outcome was impossible to know until it occurred.

Arrogan had described it to him from a teacher’s perspective. “Most apprentices struggle for half a day or more, right up to the point that they’re on the verge of expiring. At the end, if you’re connected to them, you’ll feel their turyn drop, but that still doesn’t mean they’ve succeeded. You have to wait, because the same thing happens if they’re dying—their turyn production drops, and then keeps dropping. Even if you release them at that point, they’ll die. It’s too late. You’ll only know they’ve succeeded when they’ve survived a few hours like that.”

“I’m ready!” Will looked up to see Selene had returned. Taking a deep breath, he rose from the chair and crossed the room to stand in front of her. The expression on her face was hopeful.

“You’re sure about this?”

“Just do it already!”

With a thought, Will caught Selene with a source-link, then lifted the already prepared source-cage spell and pushed it into her chest. Connected to both the spell construct and her source, he guided one to the other and felt it slide into place. Her eyes met his, and a smile formed on her lips.

Then he squeezed, closing his fist and clamping down on her source at the same time. At the same time, he saw the discomfort reflected in her features. Selene’s smile vanished. “It feels tight,” she remarked.

He nodded, adjusting the source-cage to fit around the changes he had made. Then he released the link and exhaled. “Look at your ring.”

“The glow is dimmer.”

“I’ve reduced the amount of turyn your body can hold. Basically, everything your source produces is trapped within the source-cage. You have to learn two things. One, you have to restrict your source so that you only produce an amount of turyn that keeps that smaller space filled, and two, you have to learn to survive on that greatly reduced amount of turyn.”

Selene nodded. “It doesn’t seem too bad, so far. It just feels weird.”

“Clamping down on your source is the hard part, and that’s what you have to do first. Learning to live on half the turyn is the slow, miserable part that takes a month or so,” he explained.

“I can do this,” she declared.

“No matter what, don’t cast any spells. If you allow yourself to release turyn that way, you won’t learn. You have to push yourself to the limit. It’s going to feel like you’re dying.” He went back to the desk and sat down, then opened a book.

“What are you doing now?”

He glanced up. “I’m going to read this book you recommended on ward theory.”

“That’s it?”

Will shrugged. “It will take a little while for your problems to start, and after that neither of us will get any peace. It also didn’t seem fair for me to practice spells in front of you, since you can’t do the same, so I figured I’d read until you start panicking.”

Selene gave him a lopsided grin. “Panicking? I don’t panic.”

“Sure,” said Will, then returned his eyes to the page.

Her hands came down on the edge of the desk as she leaned closer. “No, really. I don’t panic. Have you ever seen me panic? I’m always calm.”

You were a little out of control when your father tried to make you kill me, thought Will, but he didn’t think that was a fair comment. “I believe you,” he replied instead.

She frowned. “You don’t sound like it.”

“I do, honestly,” he responded, but her disbelief in his belief already had him fighting to keep the smirk out of his voice, which undermined his statement.

“You’ll see.”

“I wasn’t arguing with you,” he told her. “I’m on your side.”

She growled and left. Will struggled to focus on the rather boring subject of wards, which he found rather dry and uninspired. Most of the text dealt with decay times and the methods for calculating how long a given ward could be expected to last, which apparently was a function of design, complexity, and the initial turyn investment. Thirty minutes later and he was into the first simple examples, which showed how to calculate the expected survival time, when Selene returned.

“My skin feels funny,” she announced.

He nodded.

“Is it supposed to feel like that?”

“It gets worse.”

“What do I do about it?”

“Find a way to stop producing so much turyn.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Smartass.” She left again.

Will returned to his reading, fighting against incipient drowsiness even though he hadn’t been up very long. I should read this at night before bed, he noted wryly. An hour went by, and he began hearing odd noises outside the study. Rising from his seat, he went and looked out the door, where he saw that Selene was vigorously cleaning the banister on the stairs.

She was wearing one of her plain dresses and had tied her hair back, so it was apparent that she meant business as she worked her way industriously from the bottom to the top, polishing every part of the wood. Will could see that she was working up a sweat.

He returned to the book and tried not to think about how she must be feeling, but he couldn’t focus. Activating the limnthal, he announced, “She’s to the point where she’s trying to exhaust herself.”

“So the fun is just beginning,” said Arrogan.

“Should I go ahead and paralyze her?”

“Wait until she starts to panic or act irrational. Doing so now will just make her extra angry.”

That seemed reasonable. “Well, one thing I won’t do is ignore her,” said Will. “That’s what you did with me and it was terrifying. I thought you were just waiting for me to die.”

“So wise for one so young,” said Arrogan sarcastically. “What do you intend to do instead?”

“I’ll stay with her and talk to her in a soothing voice.”

“I’m sure that would have worked well with you,” said the ring.

“It’s better than leaving me lying there like a piece of wood while you go about your business,” replied Will angrily.

“Really? Let’s think this through. Imagine you’re back there again, burning up inside, panicking, and now you’re paralyzed and can’t do anything. Meanwhile, I’m sitting beside you, a compassionate look on my face, talking to you in a calm, soothing voice. ‘Don’t worry, Will. It will be better soon. Trust me, Will. The pain is just a gateway to a new life.’”

Will grimaced. “All right, you’ve made your point. That sounds horrifyingly creepy.”

“This is all for the best, Will. It won’t hurt forever,” continued Arrogan in a saccharine tone.

Will shivered. “Enough. You’re going to give me nightmares.”

Selene’s head popped around the edge of the door. “Has anyone cleaned the roof lately? I think I saw some dead leaves up there yesterday.”

Their roof had a steep pitch and it was made of slate, which meant it rarely needed cleaning. When it did, Will usually just used a spell, rather than risk someone climbing up, which could damage the slates—or the climber. “I’ll take care of it,” he told her. “You don’t need to be climbing up there.”

Her face was flushed and damp with sweat. “I don’t mind. I need to do something anyway. I can’t sit still.”

“Pick something else.”

“I’ll wash the floors.”

“You mean mop the floors, right?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll get a rag and a bucket so I can go over them more thoroughly.”

Will had gotten into the habit of using Selene’s Solution, the spell she had created, to clean various rooms every day, so he knew quite well how clean the floors were. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I just—”

“They’re dirty!” she hissed, and then she disappeared.

Will started to get up and follow her. “She’s lost her mind,” he muttered.

“Don’t chase her,” advised Arrogan. “When she gets truly desperate, she’ll come back to you. I don’t think it will be much longer.”

His prediction turned out to be spot on. Twenty minutes later, Will heard a crash and a bang. Running down the stairs, he found Selene in the entry hall. The pail had been turned over, or perhaps flung, since it was some ten feet away. Water was everywhere, and Selene’s face was red and flushed with tears of frustration when she looked up at him. “I can’t do it, Will. I’ve been trying. I know this isn’t helping, but nothing else is working either. I can’t control it.”

He gave her a sad look. “This is just the start. You still have hours to go before you reach the end.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m dying, Will. If it is going to take much longer, I won’t make it. I can’t!” She jumped to her feet, face frantic.

Will caught her with a source-link and quickly paralyzed her, then he caught her in his arms as she started to fall. Lifting her carefully, he made his way up the stairs and took her to the bedroom where he laid her gently on the bed. The sight of her terrified eyes rolling back and forth as she silently pleaded with him almost undid him. He kept his gaze away from her face after that. For the first time, he understood why Arrogan had seemed so cold and uncaring when Will had gone through the same thing.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care enough to look at me; he couldn’t bear to see the fear in my eyes. He knew what I was going through, Will realized. Everything made more sense now that he was on the other side of the process. He walked to the other side of the room, where he couldn’t see her face, where she couldn’t see him, and took a seat.

Selene might think he had left her, but he was only a few feet away. There was no question about reading at this point. He was sick with fear. With the source-link active, he could sense her terror, her pain, and her rage. It was an instinctive sort of anger. Every instinct was telling her that she was on the verge of death, and despite it all, he had paralyzed her and refused to free her so she could live. It was an awful experience, no matter which side of the student-teacher relationship you were on.

Another hour passed, and he wondered how much more he could endure. It took me most of the night, so this could go on for hours and hours. He wanted to pull his hair out with frustration. Unable to stop himself, Will moved a little so he could see her face again. Tears were streaming from her eyes. The noise of his movement caused her to open them, and one eye fixed on him, burning with anger.

He went back to his seat. “You have to imagine squeezing it. It’s sort of like making a fist. No, that’s not quite it either.” He thought about it for a moment. “The feeling is a little like when you have to poop, and you clench up at the end.” Shut up, Will, he told himself. She’s already pissed, no need to make her think you’re stupid too.

Will chewed his lip nervously. If she dies, I’ll never forgive myself. He was staring at the floor, but then he saw a flash of turyn as a spell came together then expanded to fill the room. He recognized it immediately, Selene’s Solution. “No!” he yelped, standing up quickly. He released the source-link, and a few seconds later, Selene began to move. “Why? You can’t learn if you use magic!”

“I was dying!” she shouted back. “How could you do that to me? Do you know how terrified I was?”

“Yes! I’ve been through it. Damn it. This ruins everything!”

“Well, forgive me for not dying!”

Will sat back down and covered his face, trying to get control of himself. Yelling wouldn’t help matters. A second later, the door slammed, and when he looked up, she was gone.

Chapter 4

Things were distinctly frosty between Will and Selene the rest of the day. When he saw her again that evening, it was only at the dinner table. She declined to speak, aside from basic necessities, and afterward Will found an excuse to leave and do some nighttime spell practice. He didn’t return until after their usual bedtime, and rather than enter the bedroom he elected to use a couch in the downstairs parlor.

It took him forever to fall asleep, but not long after he had, he woke with a start. Someone loomed over him in the darkness. Selene’s expression was a thoroughly undignified mixture of distress and sorrow.

“Is it this bad?” she asked quietly.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up. “I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“Come to bed.” She started for the stairs, and he quickly followed. Neither spoke as he undressed and climbed into his side of the giant four-poster, but just a few minutes after he lay down Selene’s hand snaked over to find his beneath the sheets.

His heart unclenched, and they both slept peacefully from that point on. The next day, they tried again, and failed even sooner. They didn’t fight about it after that, but Selene seemed desperate and insisted on trying every day for the rest of the week. Though she didn’t vent her frustration on him, Will could tell she was close to a mental breakdown as each day’s failure weighed more heavily upon her.

After the fourth day, he took a walk and used the privacy to talk to Arrogan. “I was afraid of this,” said the ring.

“She just can’t do it,” said Will. “If anything, she’s doing worse each time.”

“Now you understand why I put you through it before allowing you to learn how to use magic.”

“You said others taught their apprentices spells first, but they somehow managed to get them through the first compression. How did they do it?” asked Will.

“It’s a completely different technique, and it can take years just for the first compression. The second takes even longer, and as far as I know none of them ever made it to the third compression,” his mentor explained.

“Why does it take so long?”

“It’s the opposite of how you did it. Rather than force the shift in a single go, you train the student to absorb turyn and subsist without turyn from their source gradually. So, instead of using a source-cage, you link to them, forcibly compress their source for them, and then drain their turyn. The teacher keeps the apprentice in a state of relative turyn starvation for a period of hours each day, forcing their body to adapt. As you remember, it took you roughly a month to adapt after compressing your own source, but since this method is intermittent it can take the student several years, and then they still have to learn how to compress their own source independently. Without the stress and fear produced by the method you went through, that can take many more years.”

“How many years are we discussing?” asked Will.

“Seven or eight to complete the first compression, and probably more to get through the second. She could be forty before she reaches second-order.”

Losing twenty years of time meant Selene would also age significantly during that period, while Will remained relatively young. And she would never make third-order, so her lifespan would at best be less than half of his own. Will groaned.

Arrogan went on, “The plus side is that the method is perfectly safe, at least for the first compression. No one ever dies that way.”

“How many died using the method I went through?”

“In the early days, probably ten or twenty percent. But after they started using the candle spell to help apprentices to understand their inner turyn first, the death rate dropped to less than one or two in a hundred. The second compression was still relatively risky, at around ten percent dying, and very few attempted the third compression.”

“Why? Just because of fear?”

“Well, most wizards were first-order, and the second-order wizards were a small minority. It depended a lot on who your teacher was. If you were a first-order wizard, you were unlikely to push your student to surpass you by getting them to the second-order, and the same held true for second-order wizards. You were lucky to have me as your master, since only a third-order wizard would be likely to push you to attempt it.”

In the past, Will might have taken that statement as a bit of arrogance on his teacher’s part, but it was simple truth now that he understood things better. “This isn’t just about Selene, Grandfather. It’s about the future of wizardry. If I’m going to find a way to break Terabinia of its addiction to sorcery, I’m going to have to be able to train a lot of new wizards. I can’t afford to waste all the wizards who’ve already been trained and taught. I need a way to help them as well. A way that doesn’t take twenty years.”

Arrogan’s tone was harsh. “You should forget about the ones that already graduated from Wurthaven. They’re all bound by Lognion’s graduation seal. You couldn’t trust them. He could use it to turn them against you at any point. Or he could use the enchantment to force them to tell him the secrets of your training. As you well know, it can make them do anything.”

Will vividly remembered the day that Lognion had ordered Selene to kill him. Resisting the command would have killed her if Count Spry hadn’t killed Will and thus invalidated the order. The strength of will required to resist the enchantment meant being willing to endure soul-rending pain and a horrific death. It was almost certainly worse than the pain, fear, and sheer panic that Will had endured to achieve his first compression.

His eyes went wide. “That’s it!”

“What?”

“You said the problem is that once a student learns to use magic it’s impossible to make them not use it to save themselves when they’re trying to compress their source. But there is a way to do it.”

Arrogan sounded confused. “What are you babbling about?”

“The heart-stone enchantment.”

The old man understood immediately. “No!”

“You know how to construct it, don’t you?” said Will.

“That’s beside the point. It’s evil. Even if I trusted you to use it and release someone afterward, once the knowledge gets out, other people won’t be so principled. I’ve seen it before.”

“I won’t teach anyone else,” Will promised. “Just Selene and the first group of students, those who are too far along, who’ve already begun using magic. People like Janice.”

“No.”

Will frowned. “You won’t even discuss it?”

Arrogan sounded angry. “You know what I did to eradicate that knowledge! I killed a lot of assholes, sure, but some of them were my friends! There’s no way in hell I’ll willingly bring that knowledge back in to the world.”

“It’s still in the world. Lognion knows it,” Will pointed out.

“And you’ve sworn to kill him. Something you might think about expediting, now that we’re on the topic.”

“I will, when the time is right. Currently we need him to keep Terabinia stable. Overthrowing him while Darrow is waiting for an opportunity to invade would be asking for trouble.”

“It’s never convenient,” growled Arrogan. “It was the same in my day. They all kept finding excuses to keep their elementals. It was never a good time. Don’t make me regret training you, William.”

“It’s the only way I can train Selene!”

“Then too bad!”

“Don’t you want us to be happy?”

“Not if it means unleashing that evil on the world again. Your happiness isn’t worth that.”

“It’s still out there.”

“Then go kill the king as you promised!”

Will paused. “If you won’t teach me, I could ask Lognion.”

“Are you being serious, or are you just trying to piss me off? Think carefully before you answer.”

“Why?”

“Just answer the damned question!” yelled Arrogan.

Will replied through clenched teeth. “I’m dead serious.”

Arrogan’s answer came not in words, but as a surge from the ring as he rushed out to invade Will’s body. Will caught him at the start, and he wrestled with the old man. Arrogan’s will was impossibly strong, stronger than Ethelgren’s had been, and if he had been caught off-guard, Will would almost certainly have lost.

But it was his body. He had the high ground, and his will was just enough to keep his grandfather from taking control. Forcing the old man’s soul back into the ring, he dismissed the limnthal.

The fight was over, for unlike Ethelgren’s relic, the Ring of Vile and Unspeakable Knowledge was tied to his limnthal. If the limnthal wasn’t active, Arrogan wasn’t conscious. Will sighed, feeling a sense of deep regret, then he removed the ring and dropped it into his pocket. The limnthal was too handy to stop using, so it was easier to give up the ring, at least for the time being.

Hopefully, he’ll understand when this is all over.

Since he was already out walking, he turned his steps in the direction of the palace. He’d made up his mind.

***

“My Son, it is always good to see you,” enthused Lognion without taking his eyes from the roses he was trimming.

They were in a small, private garden in the rear courtyard behind the palace. The footman had brought Will straight there after he had requested an audience. He had been surprised to find Selene’s father wearing sturdy work clothes and heavy leather gloves. The monarch appeared to be sincerely working on the garden. “I didn’t expect this,” said Will honestly, ignoring the king’s excessive good humor.

Lognion turned and smiled faintly. “Just because I find it entertaining to torture people doesn’t mean I don’t have other hobbies, William. Try not to be so closed minded. The world is not nearly as simple as you suppose.”

“I just never imagined you as a gardener.”

“I find the exercise profitable for both body and mind, and I rather enjoy bringing order from the natural state of chaos present in growing plants. Leave them to themselves and they run riot, until the weeds choke them out, and then every bit of man-made organization vanishes as the plants begin to compete with one another. My garden is rather like a microcosm of the kingdom. I enjoy bringing order out of the native madness. The only difference is that here, rather than pruning men, I prune branches.

“Sometimes I remove an entire plant.” Lognion pointed to an empty place where something had recently been uprooted. “That spot could be called ‘Arenata’ or ‘Spry.’ Now I will plant something new in its place, and my garden will benefit as something stronger sprouts in that place.” He gave Will a meaningful stare.

Will had no interest in entertaining the evil bastard’s philosophical musings. “I came to ask a favor of you.”

The king stopped what he was doing and removed his gloves. “Oh. This is a rare occasion. You have my full attention.”

“I need to learn the heart-stone enchantment.”

“And why would someone who so reviles the wickedness of that magic suddenly wish to learn it? More importantly, why would I share such an important secret, a secret I have kept to myself throughout my life?”

“When you offered me the link that controlled Selene, I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have freed her,” Will admitted.

Lognion frowned. “You’re telling the truth, yet I’m certain you don’t wish to enslave her. You’re going to have to explain, William.”

“I have more than one reason,” he replied, being careful to stick to the truth. “One reason is that in the future I may wish to travel. Being able to communicate with her at a distance would be useful. Simultaneously being able to know the truth of her every word, as well as being able to give her a particular command would ease my mind.”

“And your other reasons?”

“Someday I’m going to kill you. I’ll need that knowledge to successfully hold Terabinia together.”

Lognion laughed. “I wondered if you’d lost your nerve. You already missed your best chance.”

“My most important goal is the safety and security of the people of Terabinia. Currently that means supporting you,” said Will. “But in time, that may change. It’s even possible someone else might do the deed. Either way, I need to be ready to take the reins of power when that time comes.”

“Such noble goals!” said Lognion, smiling broadly. “I applaud your pragmatism, but still I cannot give you such valuable knowledge without gaining something of tremendous value in return.”

Will winced. He’d been afraid of that. “What do you want?”

“What I’ve always wanted, William. Your service.”

“I won’t swear fealty,” he answered. “I’ve told you that before.”

“And I don’t need it. I’ve told you that I trust you more without it. What I want is your actual service. There’s something that needs doing.”

“You’ll have to be specific.”

“Darrow. Give me Darrow.”

Will gaped at him. “The nation?”

Lognion nodded. “As you know, they’ve become extremely bothersome. Their military still hasn’t recovered from the disaster in Barrowden a couple of years ago, yet I’m almost certain the vampire problem was of their doing. The only way to permanently solve this problem is to reunite our country, to bring Darrow under our rule.”

“You want me to kill the Patriarch?”

“That would be the finishing touch, but I’m asking for something more substantial. I want you to subjugate them.”

“By myself?”

The king laughed long and hard. “I almost believe you would attempt it if you had good enough cause. No, William, not alone. I would send you at the head of my armies.”

“The head? I don’t know anything about leading an army!”

“You would have my finest commanders with you. You won’t need much expertise of your own. If you wish to take my place someday, you’ll need to learn the art of war anyway. I merely want you to lead them as a figurehead, as Selene’s husband, as my representative. Leave the strategy to the generals, but I feel your presence may be necessary to ensure success.”

“Or to get me killed,” Will pointed out.

“As a ruler, I try to ensure I profit no matter how events play out. That might be a small prize should you fail, but I would rather you succeed.”

“Explain it for me,” said Will. “I’m trying to get my head around this proposal.”

“It’s simple. I’ll teach you the enchantment, and in exchange, you give me Darrow. Ride with my armies. Field Marshal Linville will handle the details, but he will ultimately answer to you. Failure or success, the credit will go to you, for good or ill. Is that clear enough?”

Will struggled to think of an answer. “I can’t leave. Selene—”

“Not now, William. Next spring. Even though summer is just beginning, it’s not advisable to start a campaign this late. You have eight or nine months until the excitement will start.” When Will didn’t say anything, Lognion prompted him. “What will it be?”

“Can I think about this?”

“Now or never,” said the king. “If you want the secret of the heart-stone enchantment, you’ll say yes and give me your word on it. Do that and I’ll teach you right here. Also, it goes without saying, but I’ll expect you to delay any assassination attempts until after you honor this promise.”

“And you’d trust me if I agreed to this?”

Lognion flashed white teeth as a wicked smile crossed his features. “Any man who would go to such lengths to refuse to swear fealty to me all this time can be counted on to keep his word. Besides, once you’ve learned this, and won your first war, it won’t matter if you attempt to kill me then. You’ll fail, of course, but on the off chance that you succeed, you’ll have proven your worthiness to succeed me. So, what say you?”

Will felt as though he was standing on the edge of a cliff, but he knew Lognion well enough to know the man wouldn’t wait. Aside from detesting lies in others, the king had always been brutally honest. If he said he wouldn’t make the offer twice, he meant it. But I’ll have to go to war. He’d seen enough of that when he’d fought to liberate Barrowden. What new atrocities would he experience if he returned to the army? What atrocities will I be responsible for, as the leader of Terabinia’s army?

He wanted to say no, but in his mind’s eye all he could think of was Selene’s tears as she had failed for the past week. She would grow old long before him—that was her fear. At the same time, a small voice in the back of his head made a suggestion. How many atrocities could I prevent if I’m there to make the decisions? War was always bad, but maybe it wouldn’t be as bloody if he was in charge. Was refusing the king really the moral choice? Lognion would have his war either way.

“I’ll do it.”

The words were out before he knew he was saying them. Lognion’s eyes flashed with delight. “Just for me, say it properly.”

Will’s eyes met the king’s. “I’ll prosecute your war against Darrow. I’ll bring them under your rule and reunite Greater Darrow, but this time under the flag of Terabinia. You have my word on it.”

The king nodded, and a force-dome sprang up around the private garden. “Pay attention as I show you the rune structure.”

“Here?” asked Will. “I’ll need some paper.”

Lognion shook his head. “You’ll memorize it. Never write it down. I’ll go over with you as many times as necessary. If you forget, return and I’ll refresh your memory, but never write it down. This knowledge is too dangerous to put on a page where it could be stolen.”

Will nodded.

“Now, watch me—"

Chapter 5

When Will got home that afternoon, he went immediately to the study and repeated what he had learned twice, constructing and dismissing the complex enchanting rune structure to make sure he hadn’t already forgotten it. Despite its wicked potential, it wasn’t too much to remember. He had already memorized quite a few spells that were far more complex, like Selene’s Solution, which was eighth-order. While the heart-stone enchantment wasn’t a spell, its complexity was comparable to a spell of approximately sixth-order.

That was enough to make him nervous about memorizing it perfectly without notes to refer to for a few days. More than anything, he didn’t want to have to return to the king and admit that he had forgotten part of it.

A knock came at the door, and Will called out, “Come in.”

Selene entered. “We’ve hardly spoken today.” Her tone was flat, matching the barely hidden look of dejection on her features.

“About that. I’ve been thinking—”

She glanced up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “You’re having second thoughts, aren’t you?”

“What? No.”

She shook her head. “Don’t deny it. I’m doubting myself. I can only imagine what’s going through your head as well.”

“Well, about that—I think I’ve found—”

Selene interrupted, “You don’t have to make excuses for me, William. This is new for me. I’ve never really failed at anything before, but now that I’m dealing with the most important challenge of my life, I’m useless. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but I won’t let it break me.”

Will smiled. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

“We should separate,” she announced.

He almost fell out of his chair. “Huh?”

She gave him a sincere look, her eyes welling with tears. “You’re going to live centuries, and I—I won’t. We’re young. Given who my father is, it isn’t practical for us to divorce, but the pain will be less if we end it now. You could find happiness with—”

“Will you please shut up!” he barked, cutting through the pitiful speech. Selene looked surprised, but she stopped. “I’m trying to tell you I’ve found an answer.”

She gave him a skeptical look.

“The heart-stone enchantment.”

“What?”

He nodded, as though confirming his own statement. “The enchantment your father used to enslave you and every other wizard that graduated from Wurthaven, we can use that to overcome your problem.”

Her expression changed. “You want to use it to order me not to use magic. Is that what you’re thinking?”

“Exactly that. You lived with it for years. It should work, shouldn’t it?”

“It should,” she said slowly. “But I shudder to think of allowing myself to be chained again. You have no idea how horrible it was—when he ordered me to murder you—” Selene shivered visibly.

“Obviously I won’t order you to kill me,” said Will.

“I’m also terrified,” she admitted. “Every time we’ve tried it, the fear gets worse. It’s like drowning and being burned alive at the same time.”

“You trust me, don’t you?” He rose and walked around the desk to stand in front of her.

Selene nodded. “I trust you, but it’s easier said than done. Fear isn’t a rational thing. If it was for anything else, I would be able to say yes easily. But knowing that if I agree to let you put the enchantment back on me, the very first thing you’ll do is put me through the compression trial again—it terrifies me. I can say I trust you, but just thinking about it makes me want to run screaming.”

He put his arms around her. “I won’t force you to do anything. It’s your decision.” He kissed her lips quickly, then pulled away to look her in the eyes. “But don’t even joke about separating. Whatever happens, you won’t get rid of me. I’ll take however much time we have and be grateful for every minute.”

Selene blinked, then kissed him. “You’re such an idiot.” They held each other for a minute or so, then her head popped up again. “Wait, how did you learn the enchantment? Did Arrogan teach it to you?”

Will grimaced. “No. He got rather upset when I asked. I had to go to your father.”

“You what? Tell me you didn’t!”

He shrugged. “I did. You know I’d do anything if I thought it would help you.”

“But him, he’s a monster.” Her eyes widened. “What did he want in exchange? I know my father. He wouldn’t trade something like that without receiving something of equal value.”

“Darrow.”

“Darrow?”

He nodded.

“The nation? He thinks you can give it to—” Her mouth formed an ‘o.’ “He wants you to go to war for him! Oh, William, why?”

“It was going to happen eventually anyway.”

“Not to you! Not to us! Why would you promise something like that?”

Will offered a crooked grin. “Because I thought it might help you.”

Tears began rolling down her cheeks in earnest. “But I’m too scared to let you use it on me now. I’m a coward, William. There’s no nice way to say it. I’ve lost my nerve and now you’ve paid a terrible price for nothing.”

He squeezed her tightly. “Don’t say that. I’ve been through it—once—and it scared me to death. I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to try so many times already. Whether you ever try again or not, you’re the bravest person I’ve ever known. Who knows, maybe I’ll find some other use for the damned enchantment? No matter what, I’m not going to regret trying to help you.”

She held onto him for a while, but collected herself before too much time had passed. No matter what she claimed, Selene was made of stern stuff. Together they ate supper and whiled away the evening without any more unpleasant discussions. But that night, after they had gone to bed, she clung to him with quiet desperation, her arms giving voice to the fear she couldn’t face.

Will slept fitfully, but when he woke in the morning, he found she had already risen. He had just begun to get dressed when she strode purposefully into the bedroom. Selene looked to be fully prepared for a long day. She was dressed in an austere dress meant for work rather than society, and her hair was tightly braided and pinned back behind her head.

Without pause, she circled the bed and stopped in front of him. “Do it.”

His foot was halfway down the leg of his trousers, and he froze, then grinned. “Do it? Is that a command I need pants for? Or is this a no-pants situation?”

“You’re going to need a bandage if you make any more jokes,” she snipped. “I’m serious. Do it. Put the enchantment on me.”

Will frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Now, William! Please. Before I lose my nerve.”

He nodded. “All right. But don’t worry, I won’t give you any orders unless you agree with them beforehand.”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll back out. After you put it on me, just do what you need to do and don’t listen to me if I change my mind.”

“Really?”

Her head bobbed up and down. “Hurry up.”

He formed the enchantment, not even bothering to finish pulling on his trousers. Being fairly new to it, it took him almost two minutes to form the two ends of the construct. When it was ready, he passed the ‘slave’ end over to her hand. “You have to voluntarily apply that end to yourself,” he told her.

“I remember,” she said nervously. Her hand trembled slightly, then she took a deep breath and pressed it against her throat. The runes unlaced and circled her neck, then sank into her skin and vanished. Meanwhile, Will placed the master end against his chest and felt it lock in place. Unlike Selene, he could undo the enchantment from his end, but there was still something disconcerting about feeling it attach itself to something deeply fundamental within him. Is that my soul? he wondered. If Arrogan’s previous descriptions were correct, it was.

“It’s done,” he announced. Then he looked at Selene. “Help me out with an experiment. This isn’t an order. Lie to me about something.”

She gave him an odd look, then smirked. “Your hair is perfect this morning.”

He could feel the falsehood vibrate in the air as she spoke. Reaching up, he patted his hair. “Bad case of bedhead?”

Selene nodded. “Satisfied now? Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

Of course, there was. He wanted to ask about her time with Sylandrea. She had previously told him that nothing had happened. And I’m not going to violate her trust by asking now that she’s defenseless, he told himself. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I just wanted to see what it was like. Your father was very keen that I should enslave lots of people and learn to read the truth the way he does.”

“I wondered.”

“Ready to start?” he asked.

“No. I’m not.”

“You look like you’ve been up a while.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” she said quickly.

“I order you not to use magic or express your turyn in any other way,” said Will suddenly.

“I was telling you the truth about Sylandrea,” she said without warning. “I was sorely tempted, but nothing happened.”

“Are you trying to distract me?” he asked, secretly relieved.

“Yes. I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

Will stood up and finished dressing, then formed a fresh source-cage. Selene started to leave, but he spoke before she reached the door. “Don’t leave.”

She froze, but her expression was full of worry. “You said you’d listen to whatever I said.”

“And you told me not to listen,” he replied, moving forward and pushing the source-cage into position. He clenched his fist and felt it clamp tightly into place.

Selene relaxed once it was in place, as though she had accepted her fate. Looking up at him, she said, “I’m scared, but now that it’s done, I feel better, at least for now.”

They hugged and then they went about their morning as though everything was normal. Will went outside and ran through his spell drills early, since he knew that soon he wouldn’t be able to concentrate. After he had finished that, he went to the kitchen and spent some time chatting with the new cook, Jeremy. Although the man was relatively young, being just a few years older than Will, he knew his craft, and Will looked forward to learning some new tricks.

Soon enough, Selene found him.

“I think I’ve made a terrible mistake, Will,” she announced.

He nodded. “Let’s go upstairs and talk about it.”

“No! I know you’re just going to paralyze me and leave me to die. Listen to me. I’ve changed my mind.”

“I understand,” he told her.

“I feel like I’m on fire,” she said suddenly. “We’ve already tried this too many times. If you don’t let me go, it will kill me.”

He tried to guide her to the door by taking hold of her elbow, but she jerked away. “Stop, please. I’m being serious. It hurts!”

The pain in her voice was clearly audible, but he knew what he had to do, much as he disliked it. Once again, he caught her with a source-link and paralyzed her. He caught her as she fell and carried her stiff body up the stairs to the bedroom. She could no longer speak, but he could feel her terror through the link, and he was certain she must be cursing him with all her heart and soul.

The hours that followed were just as awful as the previous times, but unlike those, Selene couldn’t give up. The heart-stone enchantment bound her, body and soul, and while she had fought its control once before, the pain of doing so was actually worse than the pain of slowly dying as her turyn built up to potentially lethal levels within the source-cage.

It was sometime in the afternoon when Will felt a change in her. The pain had long since become a constant, aching burn that blotted out all other sensations, but now it began to fade. Selene’s body was drenched with sweat, and her skin was red and feverish to the touch, but it began to cool. The question, thought Will, is whether she succeeded, or this is just the first part of dying.

He moved to the bedside and leaned over to press his head against her chest, listening to the slow beat of her heart. It seemed unnaturally slow. Was it about to stop entirely? The uncertainty made him want to scream. He was tempted to put the ring on so he could ask Arrogan for his advice, but he discarded that notion when he remembered that the old man would no longer help him. If she dies then I’ve lost both of them.

Twenty minutes passed, and Selene’s skin dried. It was cool, almost cold to the touch. Will couldn’t decide if that was good or not. “Can you hear me?” he asked, but there was no response. She’s unconscious, but is it sleep or a coma?

Another hour passed, and Selene’s skin began to flush once more as she grew hot. Through the source-link, he could feel her turyn levels had begun to increase. According to what Arrogan had previously told him, that was a good thing. If she were dying it should continue to drop until she passed away. That her turyn production was rising once more meant her body was still fighting to live. She did it! He remembered a similar time when he had first achieved compression.

He had gotten his source under control, then fallen asleep, exhausted by the struggle. As he slept, he had lost control of his source, and his turyn had risen once more, bringing pain and discomfort until he had awakened and gotten it back under control. It had been more than a week before he could sleep through an entire night without losing proper control of his source.

Selene’s eyes popped open, and he felt a surge of panic from her. After a few minutes her skin lost its red color and returned to normal. Will released the source-link. “You did it!” he announced joyfully.

His exhausted wife sat up quickly, her eyes burning with rage as they settled on him. “Go fuck yourself!” she swore with more venom than Will had ever heard in her voice previously. “Take this spell off of me.”

The only spell she could be referring to was the source-cage. Will shook his head sadly. “That has to stay on.”

“I’m tired. I can’t sleep like this. If I nod off, I’ll wake up on fire again,” she complained.

Will nodded. “That’s how it is. Eventually you’ll develop unconscious control, and you’ll be able to sleep through the night. That’s why we have to keep it on until that happens.”

“I’ve already figured out how to compress my source. Just take it off and let me sleep. You can put it back on later.”

He shook his head. “That’s not how this works. If we start doing things like that this could take ages.”

Red-eyed, she glared at him. “How long do I have to have this torture spell on me?”

“A month at least, and then—”

“What?” Selene looked as though she would throttle him then and there.

“Let me finish. After a month, you should be fully adjusted to this level of compression. I’m sure we could stop there, but if you want to go for second- or third-order, you’ll have to keep it on a considerable length of time after that.”

Her hand flew towards his face almost of its own accord, but Will anticipated the blow and caught her wrist. At least it wasn’t an axe, he reminded himself, thinking of his own breaking point, when he had tried to murder Arrogan. He had planned for this moment and had considered letting her vent her anger on him, but his teacher had been right on too many things to change up the old man’s method. Selene needed to be angry. She needed the emotion to inspire her stubbornness, her desire to prove him wrong. The next month would be difficult enough; if he coddled her, it would be harder still.

“Do that again and I’ll have to paralyze you once more,” he warned.

Fury was written on her face, and her words were laced with bitterness. “Why not just order me? I’m just a slave now. Isn’t that right?”

Will gave her a condescending look. “The only orders I’ll give you are these. You may use no magic and you may not attempt to remove the source-cage. Other than that, you’ll also need to participate in any and all exercises I give you.”

“Exercises?”

“Just learning to keep your source compressed isn’t enough. Once you’ve got that mastered, you’ll still be exhausted all the time, because your body will be starved for turyn. In time, it will adjust, but to speed that process you have to train your body. You’ll learn to survive with less, and gradually you’ll also start to absorb turyn from the environment.”

“That’s ludicrous!” she spat. “How long will that take?”

“I told you. A month for this compression, then we move on to the second and the third. The length of time it takes between each depends on how well you adapt, but I’m guessing that you’re in for a rough six or seven months—at least.”

Her anger seemed to fade, and desperation took its place. “Just take the source-cage off this one time! Let me get a good night’s sleep and then you can start torturing me for months and months. Please.”

“You know what happens in the spring. We have nine months at most,” Will reminded her. “I have to make sure you’re finished before I have to leave.” A snarl rose in her throat, and Will paralyzed her before she could attack him again. “Get some sleep,” he told her. “I’ll be right here, watching over you as you sleep and wake and sleep again.”

The only response he got was another surge of anger through the link.

Chapter 6

Selene’s first week was pure misery, much as he’d expected, and by the end of it she still wasn’t sleeping through the night. She had to survive on short stretches of an hour or so before waking again to get her source back under control. Sleep deprivation didn’t make her any more pleasant to be around, either. Especially when Will informed her it was time to begin exercising.

“I still can’t sleep,” she complained. “You expect me to run around the house? Are you daft?”

“You don’t need sleep to be able to exercise,” he responded calmly.

“Listen, you mentally deficient ape, I barely have enough energy to walk across the room. I’m not about to run around,” she snarled.

“You don’t have any energy because your body is starved for turyn. Exercise will help force it to adapt. It isn’t pleasant, but it’s necessary.”

“I’m not doing it.”

Will was grateful for the heart-stone enchantment now. When he’d been at that stage of his training, Arrogan had motivated him with beatings, frequently administered in sessions that were thinly disguised as martial exercises with the staff. He doubted he would have had been able to do the same with Selene. “Get up and follow me outside. That’s an order.”

Furious, she did so, her body obeying his commands despite her defiance. He watched her carefully as they went down the stairs. Being turyn starved alone was enough to make her clumsy, and sleep deprivation only made matters worse. He caught her wrist when she stumbled and was rewarded with a hiss that promised retribution.

“Focus all your attention on what you’re doing. In your current state, you can’t allow yourself to be distracted, so if you’re walking, keep your mind on what your feet are doing. The same goes for any physical activity.”

Selene gave him an acid stare. Once they were outside, she followed his instructions despite obviously not desiring to cooperate. She had jogged for only a couple of minutes with him before stumbling and nearly planting her face against the ground. “This is impossible!”

“You can do it,” he said encouragingly. “But you have to focus all your attention on your movements. You can’t spare any thoughts for other things.”

“I was thinking about what I’m going to do to you when I’m free of this damned enchantment,” she threatened. “But even if I don’t think about that, it’s still impossible. I just don’t have the turyn. My body feels like it’s made of lead.”

He shook his head. “You don’t need turyn to move. You only think you do. Turyn makes it easier, makes thinking easier, but it isn’t necessary. You just have to keep your mind only on what you’re doing.”

She was already moving awkwardly, unable to resist the command, but she bit back, “How would you know?”

“I’ve been through this,” he reminded her, which brought another growl from her direction. Will sighed. It was going to be a long day. “No more complaints,” he ordered.

He tried to approximate the amount of exercise that Arrogan had forced on him when he had been going through the same part of his training, but it was difficult, as there were a number of confounding factors. The first of those was the fact that memory is an inherently flawed faculty. His memory of those days had been colored by the misery he had endured. A second factor was that Selene was a few years older than he had been, and while she was in good shape, she didn’t have the same physical endurance he had had.

Will discovered all this after the second hour of exercise. Since Selene was compelled to obey by the heart-stone enchantment, her body continued to force itself onward even after she probably should have collapsed. He’d made the mistake of ordering her to stop complaining without thinking through the consequences, and subsequently he didn’t realize she was in trouble until her body folded up and she began vomiting onto the ground.

Her arms and legs were still fighting to try and get her back on her feet. “Rest,” shouted Will, finally realizing what he had done to her. Selene’s face was cold and clammy, though she was sweating profusely. Heat exhaustion, he noted with chagrin. Just a little more and she might have slipped into heat stroke. Summoning a water urn from the limnthal, he began using the water to wet parts of her clothing. Then he summoned a towel and soaked it before wiping her face and head with it.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have told you not to complain. You couldn’t even tell me what you were going through.”

She was too worn out to reply, but she turned her eyes away, not wanting to meet his gaze. Will didn’t know if that was because she was embarrassed, or whether she blamed him. His guilt tended to make him want to interpret it as the latter. Pushing his feelings aside, he lifted her and carried her into the house and up to bed.

After he had undressed her and made her as comfortable as possible, he retreated to the study and took out the Ring of Vile and Unspeakable Knowledge, studying it in the palm of his hand. I might have killed her with my inexperience, he thought. Slipping the ring onto his finger, he activated the limnthal, bracing himself for Arrogan’s assault.

As expected, it came instantly, but he weathered the storm until his grandfather gave up. “I need your advice,” he said.

“Go to hell.”

“I know you’ve written me off as a lost cause, but I’m trying to keep from killing Selene. You might be able to help.”

The ring didn’t reply.

“I got the heart-stone enchantment from Lognion and I used it on her, as I told you I would,” said Will, before explaining the rest of what he had done over the past month. When he had finished relaying the information, he brought up his current concern. “When I went through the first compression, I remember you forcing me to exercise almost every waking hour, but she nearly died after just two and it isn’t even that hot outside. Obviously, she can’t handle that much, but as healthy as she is, I don’t understand why this happened so quickly.”

He was answered by an empty silence, so he added, “Please. This is for her, not me.”

“You’re a fucking moron.”

“Duly noted,” said Will. “I agree with you.”

“The problem is your memory. All you remember is being tortured constantly with exercise.”

“You’re saying I remember it wrong?”

“Obviously. I only made you exercise for an hour or two every day, spread out over several short sessions. You spent most of your time trying to sleep when you weren’t eating or exercising, which is to say most of the day.”

Will blinked. It had seemed much worse to him. “Really? Just an hour or two?”

“I’m sure it seemed like an eternity to you, but I was doing my best to keep you healthy and whole. The main point of the exercise at this point is just to keep her muscles from atrophying until she stops lying in bed most of the day.”

“You told me it was to help my body adapt to not having enough turyn.”

“That’s partly true, but without turyn she can’t do much.”

“Didn’t you say physical exercise required attention more than turyn?”

“Well, that’s an old platitude, but it isn’t entirely true. Until she adapts and starts absorbing environmental turyn, she’s going to be very limited in what she can do. Without the proper energy, her body’s internal regulating mechanisms are going to be all kinds of screwed up, everything from her breathing, to her appetite, to heat regulation. You need to be very careful with her.”

“Will you help me through this?” asked Will hesitantly. “She doesn’t deserve to suffer because of my inexperience.”

“For her sake, and since I obviously can’t take your body,” said Arrogan reluctantly.

“I won’t teach anyone else the heart-stone enchantment,” promised Will. “Once I kill Lognion, the secret will die with me.”

“Assuming you don’t die in this stupid war you signed yourself up for.”

Will hoped Arrogan’s warning wasn’t prescient. He let Selene rest for the remainder of the day and kept her exercise routine exceedingly light for the next two weeks. He felt a sense of relief when she finally began sleeping normally, and her mood improved considerably from that point on. It was somewhere around a month and a half after the first compression that Selene seemed to be mostly back to normal.

She still claimed to be tired, but it was obvious that she felt better, and Will could see that her overall turyn level appeared normal, despite the reduced glow from the spell on her ring. Since the turyn wasn’t coming from her source, he knew she had begun unconsciously absorbing environmental turyn, or as Arrogan would say it, she was a true wizard at last.

“Congratulations,” he told her one morning as they sat in the front parlor enjoying their tea.

Selene looked at him suspiciously. “What fresh hell are you planning to submit me to?”

Will laughed. “I’m honestly congratulating you. You’re a wizard now.”

“I’ve been just a wizard since I gave up the elementals,” she corrected with a frown.

He shook his head. “No, I mean you’re a real wizard now, a first-order wizard.”

“Well, despite all the suffering you put me through, I don’t feel any different.”

“We could stop here,” said Will.

“What do you mean, stop?”

He answered with a shrug. “You don’t have to try for second- and third-order. You’ve doubled your lifespan. That’s a lot of years, easily enough to get truly sick of me. If you don’t want to go through the rest of the misery, you could stop at first-order.”

He saw a look of temptation flicker across her features, but then she scowled and answered, “No way. You’re going to live eight times as long as normal, or four times more than me now. I’m going all the way.”

“Then it’s time for your second compression,” he announced.

“See! You weren’t just congratulating me. You were getting ready to make me suffer once more.”

“Don’t worry, this one isn’t nearly as bad as the first one. You already know how to control your source. You just have to adjust to keeping it half the size it currently is. Your body is absorbing turyn, and once it can keep up with this new level of deprivation, you’ll be back to normal.”

Selene finished the last of her tea and placed the cup carefully down. “If it’s so easy, why weren’t there more second-order wizards back in Arrogan’s day?”

“I wasn’t there obviously, but from what Arrogan tells me it was a combination of two factors, laziness and talent. Most first-order wizards didn’t push their students to surpass them, and even those that did had to carefully gauge whether the apprentice was likely to succeed, because if they didn’t it meant death. No one wants a reputation for killing their apprentices.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. Did Arrogan say how he decided whether they were likely to succeed?”

“Not when I went through it, but he’s given me a lot more insight into the process as you’ve progressed. He says the main factor is how quickly you adapt to each compression. If it takes more than two or three months, it’s risky to proceed to the next stage. Apparently, most of those who died in the past were students who took more than six months to adapt.”

“And what if it takes me say, four months to adjust to the second compression?”

“Then you might succeed, but it would be risky. If you can’t adapt within two months, I don’t think we should try for third-order.”

“You said two or three!”

“I’d rather not take risks with your life.”

The conversation didn’t go anywhere from there, as they just circled each other with their arguments. Eventually they gave up, and Will went ahead and adjusted Selene’s source-cage, forcing her to compress her source by half once again. Being the second compression, it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as the first. Selene kept her turyn under tight control, though she was soon seriously fatigued again. The second—and equally distressing consequence was that she couldn’t sleep peacefully through the night anymore.

Two weeks passed before she was able to sleep soundly, and once again, Will found his own patience and sanity tested by her rotten mood. He would never again underestimate the importance of good sleep for a healthy marriage.

More weeks went by, and as the end of the second month approached, Will began to worry. Selene was still listless and constantly tired. All he could do was watch and wait—and occasionally force her to exercise, which served to further endear him to her. In his free time, he continued his own practice, both at spells, at cooking, and his irregular sparring sessions with Blake.

Summer ended and fall arrived as Wurthaven returned to life and Will’s third year started. He was forced to take yet another year of Composition to improve his writing skills, but he was done with Math and Alchemy. Since he had more freedom now to choose his curriculum, he signed up for Advanced Spell Theory as well as Principles of Ritual Design, both of which would put him in close proximity to Master Courtney, who would be interested to learn of his results with Selene. He also took Practical Warding and Linear Enchanting, mainly because Selene recommended them. Practical Warding took the most persuasion on her part. Since Will could walk through most wards, he didn’t see the point in them, but his wife kindly pointed out that that wasn’t true for the majority of humans.

He could have stopped with those, but she suggested he take one more, Principles of Healing. Will didn’t see the point, though. “I grew up assisting my mother. I already know enough about the human body.”

“Not about magic and the human body, though,” Selene reminded him.

“I have regeneration potions if something serious happens.”

Being constantly fatigued left Selene with a short temper most days. “Well, that’s just fine for you, but what about the poor bastards around you?”

“Are we talking about the upcoming campaign?” asked Will.

She threw up her hands. “Of course! Why do you think I’ve been suggesting the classes I have?”

“Because you liked them.”

“No,” she snarled. “Wards are useful when you set up camp, so someone doesn’t sneak in and kill you. Simple enchantments could help with traps or any number of other things, and healing will help you to help those around you.”

“Alchemy seems better suited to it.”

“How many regeneration potions do you have?”

“Thirty-four.”

“And knowing you, you’d use one every time someone near you gets injured. You’ve seen war before. How long will that last?”

Will nodded. “Good point.”

“I’d rather you not use them on anyone but yourself or someone close to you, like Tiny, and in secret if you can manage it. If others find out you have them, they’ll be begging you for them night and day.”

“So, what do you think I’ll learn in an introductory Healing class? I remember seeing you in Barrowden treating soldiers. It didn’t look like you used much magic.”

“Well, you have the foundations already. You know your anatomy and you’re capable of stitching wounds. You won’t have time to get into the more advanced healing spells, but you can at least learn the ones that allow you to speed wound healing, prevent infection, reduce fever—the list goes on.”

“Prevent infection, eh? Blood-cleanse potions.”

Selene sighed. “Yes, the potions are better, but you’re going to need even more of those than you will the regeneration potions. Spells can clean and keep wounds from turning septic. It’s faster and more efficient than wasting a potion that could treat a more serious blood infection or gangrene.”

“But…”

“Why are you arguing about this so much?”

“We both know I’ll be leaving in the spring, so this will probably be my last semester. I thought it would be nice to have more time at home—with you. Especially once you’re done with these annoying compressions,” he explained.

That earned him a rare smile, but it quickly vanished. “We’ll have centuries if you can live through this war. Turn that logic around. If this is your last semester then you should make the most of it. In fact, you should use your spare time to do some reading on military tactics and old campaigns.”

“You’re a harsh taskmaster.”

Selene arched one brow. “Oh? And what have you been doing to me these past months?”

“Touché.”

Chapter 7

School began, and Will’s life grew more complicated as he had expected. He did in fact sign up for the class on Healing, so his days were full. Selene was still adjusting to her second compression during the first few weeks, so Will was careful not to give her any orders that might overwork her unless he was at home, which meant evenings only. Fortunately, a few days after the third month mark, Selene seemed to have almost fully adapted to the second compression.

In her mind, this meant she was ready to attempt the third, but Will was still reluctant. According to the guidelines that Arrogan had given him, she was likely to succeed since she had adapted to the second compression after roughly three months, but there was still risk.

“Too bad,” she told him. “We have four or five months before we leave for the army. If I’m to be ready by then, we need to start soon.”

They were eating their evening meal on a Friday close to the end of his first month back at school. Will stiffened at her words. “We leave for the army? I don’t recall anything about you coming with me.”

She smiled broadly. “I don’t trust you alone with all those big, burly soldiers.”

“Huh?”

“They’re perverts. You’re too pretty to be left alone with them.” Selene enjoyed his confusion for a moment before adding, “That’s what you always say about your cousin, Sammy. I think the rule applies to you as well.”

Will laughed, then studied his reflection using the flat of his butter knife. “You have a point,” he admitted with a wink. Then he turned the knife on its traditional enemy, slicing off a pat of butter for his bread. The gesture underscored his response. “I won’t refuse your flattery and sweet words, but no matter how you butter me up, I’m not bringing you along.”

Selene sighed. “It’s too bad I’m a princess and you’re only a duke, then. I don’t have to do as you say.”

“And what of my authority as your husband?”

She held up one finger. “First, there was no such vow during our marriage, not that you’re a proponent of such things. Second, according to Terabinia’s laws, only a direct descendant of Lognion the First can rule, so if I were to ascend to the throne, you wouldn’t become king, you’d be the prince-consort. If my authority would exceed yours then, it should also exceed yours now.”

“Did you study law before going to Wurthaven?”

“No, but raised as a royal, my entire childhood was an education in the law and its application. Don’t try to distract me from the topic at hand.”

“There’s always the heart-stone enchantment,” he teased.

Her face darkened. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Don’t worry. I swore I wouldn’t use it against you except for your training, and I won’t betray my word.”

“Good. Then there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Before he could respond, she switched subjects. “I need to borrow some money.”

Will’s jaw dropped. “Do you mean from the bank?”

“No, I meant from you.”

He activated the limnthal. “I think I still have four or five hundred marks stored away, but I can’t imagine you needing such a small sum.”

Selene began laughing and waved her hands at him to stop. “It’s for Laina’s charity. They need more, and she won’t accept anything from me at present.”

He stared at her blankly.

“Ten thousand marks should be a trivial amount for you.”

His mouth fell open again.

She frowned. “Have you looked at your accounting ledgers yet?”

“I have account books?” He had a vague memory of Blake mentioning something about the Arenatas’ estate, but he hadn’t been paying close attention at the time. His focus for the past few months had been almost entirely on Selene’s training.

The smirk on her face told him what she thought of his remark. “I’ll show you after we finish. They’re on the right-hand bookcase in the study.”

A feeling of unease passed over him. “I should look now. It’s been months since your father made me a duke. There could be problems I need to address.”

“There were,” she said in a tone that was probably meant to reassure him, though the answer did the opposite. “I went over them when it became apparent that you were preoccupied.”

“What sort of problems?”

“Nothing serious. Some of the taxes weren’t being collected properly, and the accounting system was outdated and obtuse. I’ve clarified it since then.”

Will frowned. “When did you do all this?”

“Mostly before you started torturing me with the compressions. Since then, Blake has been managing the monthly necessaries.”

Will frowned. “Blake?”

“He’s a butler, Will. That’s his job. He’s been doing the heavy lifting for my accounts since I was a girl. To be honest, he taught me more about the subject than I learned from my tutors.”

“But…”

“You have a seneschal who manages things at the estate. He’s just sending the summary reports and important documents along for you to look at. Blake can handle those, and if there’s anything you need to see he’ll let us know. However, you should spend a few days to familiarize yourself with things. It won’t do for you to be completely in the dark about matters there.”

“As I’ve been for the past few months,” said Will darkly.

“You had other things to worry about,” she said primly. “I’m your first duty, as you are mine. I needed to get through this training, and you didn’t need any extra distractions.”

“It’s so nice of you to decide my priorities for me,” he said sarcastically. “Back to your loan question. Why would you need to borrow money from the ducal accounts? Shouldn’t a royal princess have more money than a duke?”

“The king does,” she stated, “but the rest of the family are given more modest lands and estates to support us.”

“Family?”

“If there were any others. Father keeps a host of minor titles and estates under his personal control, but if the family expanded, he would hand some of them out.”

“It seems strange that the royal family consists of just you and Lognion.”

Selene looked away. “I thought it was simple misfortune until recently, but now that I understand the man that sired me better, the more sinister it seems. I don’t know the reason for it, but I no longer think that the consistent death of every royal not of the direct line of kings is an accident.”

“The master vampire said he was centuries old,” said Will.

She shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. Father is evil, but I can’t believe he’s somehow been pretending to die and pass the crown to himself over and over. Someone would have figured it out.”

“Magic can accomplish a lot. He could just be long-lived if he’s a true wizard.” Will would have said more but a girl appeared in the doorway. She looked young, slim, and boyish, as though she had just begun her journey to womanhood. He frowned, wondering who had let the girl in.

Selene lifted her chin and addressed the girl. “Yes, Melina?”

“I’ve laid out the linens you requested and folded the others, Your Highness. If you wish to examine them since it’s my first day.” The girl kept her eyes on the floor.

Selene’s voice was firm as she replied, “Come here, Melina.” Pushing her chair back, she stood. “Closer.” When Melina was standing directly in front of her, Selene reached out and put one hand under the girl’s chin, gently raising it. “Look me in the eye.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” answered the girl, quietly terrified.

“I don’t know who you worked for before, but I am not cruel or unfair, Melina. When you speak to me, I prefer to see your eyes. There’s no need to look at the ground. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Milady will be sufficient unless we have guests, Melina.”

“Yes, Your—milady.”

Selene smiled. “Don’t worry about me inspecting your work. If I have any issues, I’ll talk to you tomorrow so you can correct them. For now, it’s late. I’m sure your supper is waiting on you in the kitchen. Eat and get some rest.”

After the girl had left, Will sipped at his ale, then remarked, “Every time I look around there’s someone new in the house. I don’t understand why we need so many people.”

“Because I don’t like working Blake to death,” Selene replied primly. “I think you put several extra years on him while I was gone. There’s more to managing a household than cooking meals.”

“Nothing we can’t do for ourselves.”

“Your time isn’t your own anymore, Will. If you try to live as you did before you married me, you’ll run yourself into the ground.”

“That girl is barely more than a child,” he pointed out.

“And her family is likely depending on every coin she brings home. Something else for you to think about now that you’re one of the wealthiest men in Terabinia. Spending money is your civic duty to keep the economy moving.”

“Wealthiest?” Will dropped his fork and stood. “I’m finished eating. Mind if I go up to the study without you?”

Selene smirked. “I’ll join you in a moment. I want to enjoy this tart.” She took another dainty bite.

Upstairs, he started looking through the ledgers, but it was difficult to sort out the important details. His math skills were excellent, but accounting was a foreign subject to him. Selene arrived ten minutes later and patiently explained the books to him, pointing out the important summaries that detailed expenses and revenue, as well as his current cash on hand. Will found the numbers hard to believe.

“That can’t be right,” he said as he stared at the figure.

“It is,” she affirmed.

“The decimal must be misplaced,” he asserted. “That’s more than a million gold marks. I doubt there’s that much gold in the entire country.”

Selene laughed. “You’re wrong there, but you’re also right. If you wanted to put that much in one place in solid coin, it would be difficult. Part of that total is representative of financial instruments, such as credit owed to you by the bank and other debtors. Even so, more than three-fourths of it is hard cash. If you look at the last five years, you’ll also see that the total on hand fluctuates considerably, as the expenses and revenues are not fixed. That’s why it’s important to keep at least half that much in hand from year to year, to prevent insolvency in the event of unforeseen problems.”

“Insolvency?” The word was entirely foreign to him.

She nodded. “It’s an ugly word to a nobleman, almost worse than bankruptcy, which it inevitably leads to. It means a situation in which you find yourself unable to come up with the money to meet your current expenses, even if only briefly.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he argued. “Look how much is there!”

“You would be surprised. Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“No classes,” said Will with a shrug. “Why?”

“I’d like to check on my country house. I haven’t been there in a few years.”

“Country house?”

“Rimberlin House,” she answered with a smile. “It’s part of my estate, but it isn’t much on its own, other than a quiet place to retreat to. Before you came along, that’s where I preferred to stay once I was old enough to live independently.”

Will still had trouble comprehending the fact that the wealthy felt the need to have so many homes, but he kept the thought to himself. “Would you prefer to be there now?”

Selene shook her head. “It’s half a day’s journey from the city. You need to be here for classes.”

“Oh,” he said, feeling silly. “That’s true. Sure, it would be nice to get outside of the city for a day or two.”

Chapter 8

Will eyed Selene from the corner of one eye as they sat side by side in the carriage they had rented. They owned a carriage already, of course, but for longer trips they preferred to rent something anonymous. Being a princess, Selene required a significant security detail if she traveled publicly, so on most occasions she preferred to make her excursions unannounced and unpredictable.

“You keep glancing at me with that funny look,” Selene remarked.

“Mmhmm,” said Will.

“Mind telling me why?”

He made a show of staring at her torso, then running his eyes from her hips to her bust. “Why would you wear that thing? You don’t need it.”

She snorted. “The corset?”

Will nodded.

“I always wear it if I leave the house. It wouldn’t do for the public to see me otherwise.”

“You’re in an enclosed carriage, on your way to a private residence. I don’t think there’s going to be much exposure to the public.”

She shrugged. “Being royalty entails a certain degree of discomfort. It’s something I’ve learned to accept.”

“Corsets aren’t even in fashion anymore, and it must be uncomfortable as hell,” Will observed.

“It isn’t as bad as you might think, especially since I don’t cinch it very tight. As you said, I don’t really need it for my figure. The only real annoyance is if I want to bend over. I can bend at the hips, but it won’t let my torso follow suit.”

He shook his head, then changed the subject. “So, what is Rimberlin like?”

“Heaven on earth,” said Selene happily. “It’s quiet, and there’s a rocky hill on the east side of the property. A fresh spring runs from there and feeds a tiny stream that winds through the gardens. Fruit trees grow at various places on the grounds, but they aren’t kept like an orchard; they’re placed and maintained for beauty. The residents of the nearby village are invited to take most of the fruit as it comes in at different points each year.”

“You just give it away?”

Selene nodded. “Not all of it, but most. Rimberlin isn’t meant to produce income like some of the other lands for which I hold title. It’s purely mine, and I prefer it to be peaceful, away from industry and the pursuit of money.”

“It sounds wonderful,” said Will, trying to imagine it. A sudden bump tossed him up a few inches in his seat. “The road seems rough.” Leaning to one side, he pulled back the side window and looked out. The single-lane road wasn’t paved, and Will could see a sharp stone cliff rising on the left-hand side.

Selene looked over. “We’re getting close. That cliff was created when they made this road. Earth elementals were used to cut a level path straight through the foothills. The land smooths out in a mile or so.”

Will stared at the sharp granite, enjoying the stark view as well as the crisp air. A sharp cracking sound caught his ears, and he glanced up to see the stone begin to move as if in slow motion. For a timeless moment, the world seemed to freeze, and then his brain registered what he was seeing. The cliff face had fractured and sloughed away. The lazy movement he saw represented thousands of tons of granite falling toward the roadway.

The driver shouted at the same time as Will turned to Selene and said, “The cliff face is collapsing on top of us.”

Her face registered shock and surprise and for a split second the two of them just stared at each other.

“I can’t use a force-dome in here,” said Will.

“We have to get out.” As she said the words, however, the carriage sped up, though whether that was the driver’s doing or because the horses had panicked, they couldn’t be sure.

Selene had the carriage door open by the time Will was standing, and they jumped together. Fortunately, the ground was smooth and grassy on the verge of the road where they landed, otherwise they might have had worse than the minor scrapes and bruises that they acquired in the fall. Will saw Selene holding out her hand oddly and realized she was trying to cast a spell, but the heart-stone enchantment was still in effect.

Luckily, he had a force-dome already prepared, and with a thought and a rush of turyn he felt the protective field snap into place around them just seconds before an avalanche of broken stone and soil blocked out the sun. The experience was surreal, and while the force-dome blocked out much of the sound, the ground beneath their feet seemed to roar at them in deep, vibrating tones almost beneath the threshold of human hearing. Will could feel the pounding granite in his legs and chest, and the world shook violently around them.

A minute later and everything seemed to have come to rest, leaving them in a shockingly silent darkness marked only by the sound of their breathing. Will felt Selene’s hand seek out his, and then she pulled him closer. He wasn’t sure who was reassuring who at that point, nor did he care.

“How long can you keep the force-dome up?” asked Selene.

A year ago and he would have said fifteen minutes, but he had grown. Since the disaster at the dam, he had become much better at absorbing and controlling turyn, plus the force-dome was proximal to his body, reducing the amount of energy it required. “An hour or more,” he said confidently.

“Seriously?”

He nodded before realizing the gesture was wasted in the dark. “Yes. The real problem is that I can’t do anything while keeping the dome up.”

“I hate to say it, but the earth elemental would have been awfully handy,” Selene observed softly.

Will listened with one ear while simultaneously wondering how long their air would last. The water-breathing spell he knew wouldn’t help. It stored air within the caster, but that air would come from the space around them, displacing the problem rather than solving it. If he had known and used it on each of them before they were buried, it might have allowed them to last much longer, but now that they were trapped underground it was mostly useless. Ignoring his dark thoughts, he replied to Selene, “Do you regret it?”

“No.”

He squeezed her in the dark. “Unfortunately, our principles may get us killed. I can’t think of a single spell I know that would help us, even if I could use it without dropping the force-dome.”

She clucked her disapproval. “All that practicing and you’re still unprepared.” Her voice didn’t sound too worried, though. “You spent too much time on battle magics.”

Will protested, “I practice a lot of spells that aren’t battle magics.” A sudden idea came to him. He had previously run afoul of King Lognion’s secret enforcers, The Driven, and they had used some sort of magic to move through the ground as though it was insubstantial. “What about the spell that the Driven use to hide underground? Do you know it?”

“From what I know it isn’t a spell. Most of the Driven acquire both an air and earth elemental. They combine the abilities of the two types to achieve the effect. It could probably be done with a spell, though. Shame no one’s created one that could to do that.”

“If only there was a genius spell designer here.”

“If you’re referring to me, I have news for you; I’m not a genius in any sense of the word.”

Will scowled at her, though she couldn’t see it. “I take offense at that. I happen to know for a fact that my wife is immensely talented. Selene’s Solution is probably the most elegant, not to mention cleverest, spell that I’ve ever studied.”

“Just because you haven’t learned that many spells yet, don’t assume that mine is the best there is.” He started to argue, but Selene put her hand over his lips. “I appreciate the compliment, but you’ve done some spell design. There’s no way either of us can create something in the quarter of an hour we have before we run out of breathable air.”

He felt anxious, but it was impossible to be scared with Selene next to him. If I have to die, I’d rather die together, he thought with a feeling of resignation. Bending his head forward, he banged his nose into her forehead before he managed to find her lips. The kiss he delivered, and she returned, was one full of passion. “There’s only one thing left for us then,” he announced.

“What?”

He answered with his hands, but after a few seconds Selene started pushing them away.

“Are you crazy?” she asked.

“If we’re going to die anyway…” Will let the statement taper off, then added, “the real question is whether we can get you out of that corset quickly enough, otherwise things might be awkward.”

Selene laughed. “First, just because I can’t design a spell quickly enough, doesn’t mean I don’t know one. Second, if you use your imagination, I think we could manage without wasting time removing the corset. So, which do you prefer, husband? One last hurrah, or should we use our remaining time trying to escape?”

“Well, when you put it that way, I feel like a bit of an idiot,” said Will wryly. “But…”

Selene leaned in and kissed his neck startling him into silence. “I take offense to that.” She paused, then nipped his ear. “Insult my husband again and I’ll bite you for real. William Cartwright is not your usual idiot.”

“So, I’m an unusual one, then?”

“I prefer to think of you as special—my special man.” They both laughed at that, then she continued, “I happen to know an earth moving spell. I think it will work, but I’ll have to go down first to get under the dome, then work my way upward.”

“You used to have an earth elemental and you learned an earth-moving spell?”

“I was an overachiever,” she replied. “It’s called the Gravedigger’s Glory.”

“Is the name supposed to reassure me?”

“No. I found it in an old historical spell journal at Wurthaven. It was originally used for grave-digging by wizards back before there was sorcery and earth elementals. Not that we use elementals for grave-digging these days, but you understand what I mean.”

He did. If the spell predated sorcery, then it might well have been used for such a purpose. In the present day, no wizard would spend their life using magic to dig a grave, and though an elemental could easily do so, almost no one outside the nobility had one, and no nobleman would be asked to dig a grave.

“The spell will transfer the dirt into the space we have here, so after I get started we will have to stay close together since it will eventually fill up the dome and the area behind me,” she explained. “Basically, we’ll be moving our pocket of air through the soil and debris until we find the surface.”

“I understand,” he responded. By then, he had adjusted his eyes to see by heart-light, the light produced by the warmth of their bodies. He saw Selene lift her hand and stare at it for a moment, but nothing happened.

“I can’t use magic,” she said tonelessly.

“Forgot about that. You may now use magic,” he commanded, overriding his previous instruction from months before.

She performed the spell flawlessly after that, and soil began rising around their feet as a hole was excavated in the ground on one side of where they stood within the force-dome. The hole was roughly two feet across and extended downward five feet before Selene began directing the soil excavation in a sideways direction. Will crowded close beside her as they gradually ran out of room inside the dome.

By her third casting, the dome was full, while Selene and Will now stood in a steep vertical tunnel that went straight up. They had debated angling, it but the loose material above them wouldn’t hold together for such a tunnel. By bringing the material straight down they accelerated their ascent and reduced the risk of a collapse. Will had long since released the force-dome, which was a good thing, as he had to use his point-defense shield several times to deflect large stones and pieces of granite that came free and threatened to crack their skulls.

They had gone upward roughly ten feet when Selene swayed and sagged against him. “Are you all right?” he asked worriedly.

“I can’t,” she panted. “I’m so tired.”

For a second, he thought it must be lack of air, but then he noted that he still felt fine, if a bit stifled. Her turyn, he realized. The source-cage is still forcing her to keep her source compressed, and she probably can’t absorb enough turyn to keep up this kind of heavy spellwork. With a thought, he attached a source-link to her and began funneling turyn slowly into her.

“That’s better, but I’m starting to feel nauseous,” she told him.

Will paused, then made a conscious effort to attune his turyn to hers before passing it along to her. He had never tried to copy someone else’s turyn frequency before injecting it with a source-link, but it made sense to him on an intuitive level. He probably couldn’t have done it years before, but the process was similar to matching the turyn of a ward. “Your ability to absorb turyn is still limited,” he explained. “Even though you’ve mostly adjusted to the second compression, you’re probably only barely able to absorb enough turyn from the environment to make up the difference you need to function normally.”

“I think I can continue now,” she responded, starting the grave-digging spell once more. Soil and gravel began flowing downward in a controlled manner, following one side of the vertical shaft, though Will still had to remain alert for the occasional large stone that came tumbling toward them. Seven or eight more feet and light appeared above them. Selene smiled at him in the new light. “We made it.”

She kissed him quickly, and Will tasted the grit on her lips before she broke away and began climbing upward. There was still a short distance of open shaft above them before they would be in the open air, but the tunnel was small enough that they could climb even without good handholds.

She emerged into the sun just ahead of him and clambered over the edge, but before Will could get out, he heard a distinctive snapping sound followed several heavy thunks. Selene cried out and fell sideways. He knew the sound all too well. Crossbows.

Every thought vanished from his mind as he raced up the remaining distance and emerged onto a wide slope of soil, gravel, and small rocks interspersed with larger granite boulders. Six men stood at various points in the distance, crossbows in hand. Three were reloading, and Will could see Selene lying where she had collapsed, their quarrels sticking out from her chest.

His point-defense shield activated three times as he reacted to the remaining three assassins firing their weapons. Two of the six men were within twenty yards, and he saw their heads explode as two force-lances struck them. He was beyond furious.

The other four were too far, being at least fifty yards away in different directions. They were combing the area looking for survivors, a quiet voice noted in the back of his mind. Lifting one hand, he began forming a light-darts spell. The men were too far apart for him to get more than one of them at a time. Though the spell could create multiple projectiles, the targets had to be close together for the caster to aim them simultaneously.

Two seconds passed, and he put the first light-dart through a crossbowman’s heart and started constructing the next spell. That’s three of them, he observed. The other three were desperately trying to reload, not that it would save them. He hit the fourth one as he finished the second light-darts spell and then took a second to use another of his prepared spells, an iron-body transformation, feeling the characteristic stiffness sweep over his skin. There might be other bowmen he couldn’t see. And I’ll be damned if I don’t live long enough to kill each and every one of them!

The last two men finished loading and fired on him, but when he deflected their bolts they came to the realization that continuing to attack would only lead to their deaths. They dropped their weapons and began running.

Will had always believed in mercy when possible, but that principle had disappeared when he saw Selene’s still body on the ground. He carefully constructed two more light-darts spells, one after the other, then fired them at the backs of the steadily retreating men. The last one continued to run after he burned a hole through the man’s lower back, so he prepared a third spell, this one with five bolts. When they tore through the crossbowman, he fell and didn’t move again.

For a moment, everything was silent, and Will was left alone with the awful reality of his broken world. He dropped to his knees beside Selene’s body and felt his rage boil and swirl, becoming an awful mixture of sorrow and pain. His eyes locked onto Selene’s face, and the world began to swell and contract around him as a low moan slowly rose in his throat.

Will’s vision became so distorted that he almost imagined she was breathing. Was she? Reaching out, he put his hand against her chest, exploring where the bolts had struck. There should be blood, a lot of blood, but he found none, only the cold, hard resilience of the corset resisting his fingers. The corset!

Pulling and tearing at the fabric of her dress, he exposed the corset, then he used his knife to cut through the outer layer that covered it. He had assumed it would have bone or wooden ribs, but his blade revealed thin metal bands held together with fine metal rings. It isn’t a regular corset. It’s armor, like my brigandine. His eyes welled with tears as he did what he should have done from the start, put his first two fingers against her throat, feeling for a pulse.

Her heart was beating strong and steady. Will fought to stifle his falling tears as Selene’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned. Blue eyes focused on him. “What happened?” She lifted her head, and then he saw the blood on the rocks.

“Stay still,” he cautioned. “You’re hurt, but I’m not sure where yet.” With his fingers he began exploring her skull until he found a wet place on the backside. Either something struck her head, or she smacked it on the rocks when she fell, he thought.

A faint rumble in the distance caused Will to lift his head and look around once more. He didn’t spot anyone nearby, but small pebbles and dust were starting to rain down from the cliff. Staring up, he saw the figure of a man standing high above, watching them. More movement drew Will’s eyes, and he saw a massive form separate from the side of the cliff and begin flowing sinuously toward him. It was reminiscent of a snake, if snakes were made of stone, but Will knew what it was already. An earth elemental.

He’d already used the force-dome that he’d had prepared, and it would take too long to cast another, not that it would have helped. The elemental could attack from beneath them. The iron-body transformation was still active and would offer him considerable protection, but it wouldn’t protect his injured wife. Will’s mind snapped into overdrive. He doesn’t know she’s alive, so I’m the only remaining target. “Stay still and pretend you’re dead,” he ordered quietly. Remembering the heart-stone enchantment, he made a quick amendment. “If I don’t give you any other instructions, you’re free to do whatever you wish after ten minutes. Any orders I’ve given in the past will be void.”

Running sideways, he yelled at the man atop the cliff. “You’re dead! I’ll kill you for what you’ve done!” He was gratified to see that the elemental seemed to be following him. As long as I can keep the fight away from where Selene is, she should be safe.

He’d only gone fifty feet when something hard slammed into his back, sending him into a tumble across the jagged ground. If not for the iron-body transformation, he would have been bruised and bleeding from a dozen places. Will jumped up quickly and ran again, looking back to see that the elemental still hadn’t caught up. I must have been hit by a stone missile of some sort, he decided. He slowed down to look back again and saw the elemental launch another rock in his direction, a stone the size of a man’s fist. This time, Will stopped it with a point-defense shield.

But he couldn’t run fast enough to stay ahead of the elemental while continually looking backward. Meanwhile, his enemy was high above, beyond easy reach. It looked to be roughly seventy yards from the top of the cliff to the base. For a sorcerer, it was an ideal setting against an opponent without elementals. The stranger’s elemental could attack Will with impunity while Will could do little to respond at such a range.

The light-darts could reach his enemy, but he didn’t have any prepared, and it didn’t appear likely that the earth elemental would leave him unmolested for the scant seconds he would need. A force-cage would solve the problem. Will had seen Ethelgren use it against Laina’s elementals with great effect, but he didn’t have that spell prepared either.

He sent several force-lances at the elemental, which did little to slow or impede its progress. It launched a few heavy stones at him in return, and he deflected them without trouble. Throughout the exchange, it continued to close the distance between them.

How strong was an earth elemental? How much abuse could his iron-body transformation take? These were questions high on Will’s list of things he wished he knew, and it was becoming very likely he would soon discover the answers. There were a lot of spells that could solve his problem, but he couldn’t reflex cast any of them.

With a snarl, he turned and summoned his falchion and a silver coin from the limnthal, then activated the last spell that he did have prepared, Ethelgren’s silver-sword spell. Argent flames erupted from the blade as he met the massive stone snake’s charge.

Despite being so large, the earth elemental wasn’t slow. Will barely managed to dodge its snapping head as he turned to bring the sword down across the elemental’s neck. The silver-sword spell was excellent for dealing physical damage—it could cut through almost anything with enough strength behind it. Will managed to cut through several inches of stone before the blade stopped.

Not that it mattered. Even if he could have cut completely through the thing, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Elementals were beings of pure magic and spirit, the remnants of a wizard’s will and source. Their bodies were things of convenience, and damaging one was merely a temporary setback. Will’s attack had been little more than a symbolic sign of his resistance.

The elemental continued forward, pulling the sword from his grasp as it turned and encircled him with its body. What would follow was certain to be painful.

Will attached a source-link to the elemental and tensed as the rock and stone spiraled inward and tightened around him. The pain came sooner than he expected as the elemental began to constrict, crushing him within its coils. The iron-body transformation effectively protected his skin from laceration, but it didn’t do nearly enough to save his bones and innards. It was only skin-deep, after all.

The air escaped his lungs in a rasping scream as he simultaneously began ripping the turyn from the elemental through the source-link. The vast and rapid rush of turyn brought a faint sense of nausea that was quickly forgotten as he felt his ribs begin to pop and crack. The elemental continued to squeeze, and Will continued to pull on its turyn in a fool’s race toward impotence or death.

Seconds passed in agony as he wondered how long he could last before his skull cracked or his eyes popped out of his head. It took him a moment to realize that the elemental was no longer tightening around him. He had drained it to the point of being unable to move, but he was still under a tremendous amount of pressure and trapped within a stone prison.

Closing his eyes, Will began using some of the turyn he had stolen, firing force-lances from his hands. Sharp pains exploded against his palms, but the stone began to crumble and fall away. As his freedom returned, he was better able to direct the force-lances and in less than a minute, the last of the elemental’s body fell away to join the rest of the rubble pile at his feet. Blood dripped from his hands where the first force-lances had torn even his iron-reinforced skin.

Bending down, he retrieved the still-blazing falchion and then straightened to stare upward at the sorcerer, who was watching him with an expression of muted horror. His ribs screamed painfully as he did, but the only outward sign he gave was furious snarl of rage.

The elemental wouldn’t be able to function for some time. Although elementals were physically immune to most things and essentially unkillable, they recovered turyn in the same manner that most modern wizards did: slowly. The exception to that rule was a greater elemental created from a wizard of Arrogan’s time, since they could absorb turyn in the same way Will could. Such elementals were rare, though, and Will doubted this was one of them.

Will was still holding a painful amount of turyn, and so he released it by sending a series of force-lances at the cliff’s edge beneath where the sorcerer stood. The range was excessive, which mean the spells cost him a large amount of turyn. It also served to force his enemy to retreat in fear.

With his excess turyn spent, he held out his hand and began constructing an elemental earth-and-air travel-disk spell. The sorcerer wasn’t dead, and the elemental would recover. He intended to bring the fight to a final conclusion. It took him most of a minute, and then the stone disk came together beneath his feet, lifting him into the air. Directing the air that supported it, he pushed away from the ground and began ascending.

The travel-disk wasn’t meant for flying. It normally hovered above the ground and could sometimes be pushed to fifteen or twenty feet to clear obstacles, but it needed the earth to push against. Will wasn’t in the mood to climb the cliff in the usual fashion. Every second meant their enemy was getting farther away. He followed a lateral path beside the cliff for twenty yards or so, until he reached a point where the top edge was lower, perhaps just thirty yards above him, then he rammed the excess turyn he still held into the air flow beneath him. The stone disk shot up beneath his feet as a similar force seemed to push him down against it.

His eyes tracked the cliff edge as it neared, and his upward velocity gradually slowed. He was still pushing more energy into the spell, trying to increase his lift, but he was too far from the ground to gain much for his effort. It was going to be close, and if he missed, the result would probably be painful.

I’m not going to make it. The disk reached its apogee just a foot from the cliff edge, so Will stepped off with a jaunty hop that made him want to howl as his ribs ground together from the sudden movement. From the outside, it probably looked impressively graceful, but inwardly he was swearing. He was also disappointed to have lost the disk, since it would have made catching up to the sorcerer much easier. Will released the spell as it fell back toward the base of the cliff and then started to scan for his enemy.

A flash of searing pain in his left arm and shoulder alerted him to the direction he should be looking, as a fire-bolt spattered across his iron-reinforced skin. The spell might have killed him, but the iron-body spell had kept it from penetrating. Instead, he was left with the prospect of a third-degree burn across his shoulder and upper arm. Mentally, he filed it under things to worry about later.

His eyes focused on a tall, slender man with long black hair and a thin moustache. The sorcerer was well attired in an expensive coat and rich brown riding boots. His hair had pretty waves and appeared to have been oiled. The man hastily constructed another fire-bolt and launched it in Will’s direction.

Will stomped toward the man, idly deflecting the fire-bolt with a point-defense shield as he noted the fact that the fellow had had to construct the spell in the normal time-consuming fashion. As expected, he’s not much of a spell caster. He pointed the blazing sword at the stranger as he strode closer, steadily shortening the thirty yards that still remained between them. “You’re about to have a very bad day,” he pronounced ominously. “The worst day ever, in fact, but fortunately for you, it’s also your last.”

The sorcerer took a step back, then seemed to consider his options. He stopped and began constructing a new spell, one Will recognized—a force-dome. It made perfect sense. With a solid defense, the man could wait for his elemental to recover and return to aid him. Given the injuries Will had already sustained, he doubted he could survive another encounter with the earth elemental.

The distance was still too great for a force-lance given the amount of turyn that remained to him, so instead Will summoned his crossbow from the limnthal, catching it with his free left hand and firing wildly in the direction of his enemy. It was a desperate action, one that had no chance of hitting, but it served its intended purpose. The sorcerer saw the crossbow and reflexively jumped to one side, ruining the spell he was attempting to construct. Will grinned wickedly at him and kept walking.

He wanted to run, but his ribs wouldn’t allow that. Sending the crossbow back into extra-dimensional storage, he spoke to his foe. “You have two options at this point: stand and die or run and die. Either way I’m going to kill you, but I think your chances might be a tiny bit better if you run.” He was almost within twenty yards now, and a force-lance was close to being a practical option.

The sorcerer ran.

“Shit,” he swore. “I had to open my damned mouth.” Will put everything he had into a force-lance, aiming low in the hopes of merely wounding his target. A wave of dizziness passed over him as his turyn dropped to practically nothing—and he missed. “Goddamn it!” Swaying on his feet, Will began pulling in turyn as quickly as he could manage, while simultaneously constructing a light-darts spell with five missiles.

Pain and fatigue slowed him down, and it was ten seconds before he was ready, and by then his target had covered more than a hundred yards, putting him somewhere close to a hundred and twenty yards distant. “Mother! He’s fast,” muttered Will. It was pure luck that the grassy slope was only littered with small boulders and a few scrubby trees, offering the sorcerer little cover.

Lining up his shot, Will tried to space the light-darts evenly across six or seven feet to improve his chances that at least one would hit the man. He was gratified to see the sorcerer jerk slightly then stumble. At least one hit, he thought, but his enemy kept running. Will changed tactics and used the next minute to construct another travel-disk. By the time he had finished, the sorcerer was no longer in view, having disappeared into a small collection of trees at the base of the hill.

He covered the distance with the travel-disk in a vastly shorter span of time and entered the shadowed eaves. Still he saw no one, so he began gliding slowly forward, using the simple chime spell at intervals to locate his foe if the man had used some sort of magic to hide himself.

Apparently the man didn’t know any camouflage spells, as the chime spell reported nothing, but Will discovered the assassin a moment later when the man stepped out from behind a nearby tree and leveled a surprise fire-bolt at his head. Will deflected it with a point-defense shield and then returned the favor as he instinctively fired a force-lance.

His aim was perfect that time, blowing a fist-sized hole directly through the center of the assassin’s chest. The mustachioed villain stared at him open mouthed for a second, then toppled soundlessly to the forest floor.

“Damn it!” Will swore. He had fully intended to kill the man, but he’d wanted to question him first. Disappointed, he took a moment to release the assassin’s elemental, then prepared to return to Selene.

Chapter 9

Selene was sitting up where he had left her when Will returned, gliding back with the dead sorcerer lying atop the disk next to his feet. The three crossbow bolts were in a neat pile in front of her. Her first words were, “This dress is ruined.”

“Then take it off.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. We’ve been forced to be celibate for so many months now that I’m not sure my heart could take the sight of you undressed.”

“No concern for voyeurs?”

Will settled the disk to the ground and dismissed it. It crumbled into a pile of gravel with the dead sorcerer’s body atop it. Will pointed to the man. “This is what happened to the last man I caught watching you.”

She grimaced at the sight of the body. “That isn’t funny. What happened to your hands?” Then she spotted his shoulder and hissed as she audibly took a sudden breath. “That’s bad!”

“It won’t kill me,” said Will, trying not to wince as his ribs screamed at him with each step toward her. “Let me examine your head. That could really be serious.”

Selene stopped him with just her eyes. “I’ve got a lump and a cut, but my skull is fine. You’re obviously in worse shape.”

He lowered his eyes to her torso, indicating where the quarrels had struck her. “What about…?”

Her expression took on a faint look of mirth, as though she was considering a joke, but she restrained herself and answered soberly, “Mild bruises where they hit me. Nothing to worry about.”

Will chuckled, then looked away as if bored. “Actually, I meant your breasts. Who cares about a few bruises?” he announced sarcastically.

Selene laughed and took the last step to close the gap between them. “You’re incorrigible. Even when I take the high road, you have to drag me into the gutter.” There was a smile in her voice. Then she put her arms around him and squeezed.

Blinding agony shot through him, followed by a red haze. When it cleared, Will found himself staring up at her. She had somehow gotten him to the ground. “My ribs are a little tender,” he explained.

“You don’t say?” Selene exclaimed, her tone betraying a hint of fear. “Next time, tell me that first! Where are the regeneration potions?”

“It’s just a few cracked ribs. They’re too valuable to waste. You should use one for your head, though. Sometimes even seemingly innocuous head injuries can turn fatal hours or days later,” he told her.

She covered her face with one hand, then took a deep breath. “Your shoulder is a nightmare. You need one for that alone. I’ll be fine.”

Will debated internally for a moment, though he knew she was right. In fact, he’d planned to take a regeneration potion already, but he worried that Selene might refuse one for herself. So, he employed the oldest and most effective tactic for resolving marital conflicts, extortion. “Only if you take one as well.”

Selene glared at him incredulously. “Is that my best option? What’s the alternative, we die together?”

He winked. “I’ll die first, and you’ll be stuck here, the grieving widow, and nobody wants that. You’re pretty ugly when you cry.” He summoned two regeneration potions from the limnthal.

She grimaced at the sight, remembering the taste. “There could be more assassins out there. One of us should stay alert. The potion might knock us out.”

“I wasn’t hurt that badly,” he returned. “And if your head wound is so simple then you weren’t either.”

She snatched the potion from his hand and downed it before she could lose her nerve, though she still gagged after she swallowed. “Oh. That’s vile.” Will followed suit and did his best to hide his own reaction, though he didn’t succeed entirely.

Worse than the taste was the itching and burning that followed as his wounds began rapidly healing. His ribs came together, producing a series of sharp pains that made him gasp, but after that a warm, syrupy sensation washed over him. The worst was past, and his body was beginning to insist on rest. Since he was already lying down, it was hard to resist.

Selene’s face loomed above his as he struggled to keep his eyelids open. “Told you so. You were so badly hurt you can hardly stay awake now.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Your eyes are crossing. Take a nap, I’ll keep an eye out.” He followed her advice and was asleep almost before she finished her sentence. It was a peaceful rest, at least in the beginning, but after a while he began to notice a variety of odd pains, particularly in his shoulder.

Something caused his head to jog up and down, so he opened his eyes and found himself looking at the side of Selene’s head. Confused, he took a moment to register the information the rest of his body was providing, and eventually everything sorted itself out. He was being carried piggyback, and given it was Selene doing it, he couldn’t help but be impressed.

She had a healthy frame for a woman, but she was barely more than half his weight. Somehow, she had tied his arms together in front of her, leaving her hands free to clasp his thighs and keep him from sliding down her back. Without anyone else’s assistance, it must have been a near-herculean feat to get in him to that position and then stand up.

“This is getting to be a habit,” he whispered in her ear.

Her reply was accompanied by a significant amount of heavy panting, as well as obvious relief in her voice. “You’re awake!”

“Maybe. It’s hard to say. It might be a dream. You’re in it, after all, but then again, this isn’t the way most of my fantasies go.”

“Can you walk?”

“Probably, but I’d hate to spoil the moment.” With a grunt, she let her legs fold and tried to ease him to the ground. Apparently, she was exhausted, and somewhere along the way he had to extend his legs and catch himself while steadying her to keep them both from falling over sideways. Will sat, and Selene flopped onto her back, spreading her arms and legs out to help cool off. Noting the stars, he remarked, “It’s dark out.”

“Glad you noticed.”

“You should have woken me.”

“I tried,” she said with some exasperation. “If being carried on my back didn’t wake you up, do you think anything else would have? You slept all day. I finally gave up and decided to try and move you somewhere safer for the night.”

“You made a heroic effort. Is this the place?”

“Unless you want to walk the rest of the night. I tried to use a travel-disk, but I can’t sustain the turyn for it. Even small spells make me want to pass out after just a few minutes.”

Will nodded. “That’s one reason you shouldn’t be using spells until you’re done with all the compressions and you’ve finished adjusting. No more magic for you unless something happens to me.” He paused, then added, “That’s an order.”

She growled. “Ungrateful wretch.”

“I’d be more grateful if you carried me the way you did last time. I felt more like a princess then. Piggyback? Today was just laziness on your part,” he shot back, earning a laugh. He was referring to the time he had nearly died in her palace bedroom and she had carried him downstairs in her arms—with the assistance of reinforcement from the earth elemental she had possessed at the time.

Selene recovered quickly. “If we’re going to point out lazy work, I think the regeneration potion you drank was defective.”

Will rolled his left shoulder and felt the skin pull slightly, as though it was too tight. With his other hand, he could feel a certain lumpiness in the area, as though it had scarred. He thought about it a moment, then proposed a theory. “It was a burn. Trolls can’t regenerate properly from burns and acid.”

“Most of it healed,” she noted. “It was just a small area that scarred. I guess that was where it actually charred the flesh.”

“I’ll have to be careful not to be burned half to death then,” said Will dryly, but then another thought occurred to him. “I forgot to ask you about the dead man before we took the potions.”

“I didn’t recognize him,” she said immediately, anticipating his question. “But his clothes and grooming definitely indicated he was a nobleman, probably a third or fourth son who didn’t like the clergy and couldn’t handle a military career.”

Will was impressed. “You read my mind.”

“I had all afternoon to think about it while you slept. I’ll draw a picture of his face when we get home. It might help us find someone who knows who he was.”

“You can draw?”

“Everyone can draw, Will.”

“Well, I mean, you can draw well?”

Having been raised as royalty, Selene wasn’t prone to false modesty. She nodded. “I’ve got a clear hand for putting what I’ve seen to the page, but I wouldn’t consider myself an artist. I don’t have that kind of passion.”

“You never cease to amaze me,” he told her as he got carefully to his feet and began to construct another elemental travel-disk spell. Once it was ready, he helped Selene up and on, where she stood next to him. “Let’s go home.”

The trip was considerably quicker than the carriage ride out had been. Although it was nighttime, he could see clearly, and the travel spell moved several times faster than the carriage had. He didn’t have to worry about a bumpy road or wearing out the horses. They had spent four hours in the carriage that morning, but he got them back to their house in Cerria within an hour and a half.

Blake was surprised to see them return the same day they had left, but they gave him enough of an explanation to satisfy his curiosity and then went to bed. Tired, they substituted a spell for a bath and were soon asleep.

Chapter 10

Will woke first the next morning, but not by much. The two of them had a quick breakfast, courtesy of Jeremy, and they discussed their plans while finishing the toast. Selene studied her husband for a moment. “I’m sure you’ve been thinking. What are your plans for today?”

“I want to go back to the landslide and reexamine a few things. We didn’t do a good job yesterday. I don’t think your sketch will be enough for us to find whoever ordered your assassination.”

Selene took a large bite, nearly swallowing all her remaining bread, then chewed thoughtfully. Her expression seemed to indicate a difference of opinion. Will waited patiently until she had cleared her throat, then she replied, “You’re assuming they meant to kill me.”

“You’re a princess, not me.”

“And I’ve been one since I was born. Most of my value revolves around who I marry, but that’s no longer the case. My political position is well known, and I haven’t changed my stance in years, so very little is different with me. You, on the other hand, are an unknown factor, and you’ve suddenly come into a lot of power with your marriage and your new title. Your elevation will cause a rebalancing of power for a lot of influential figures.”

“That’s all true,” admitted Will, “but this could be similar to what happened with Laina. You’re well known as the chief supporter of her charity. If someone is trying to destabilize the country, they could be targeting you—”

Selene held up her hand. “That’s a stretch. First, the vampires weren’t only targeting Laina. That was simply the point of resistance that got you involved and where the friction began. Second, my enemies are all old and well established—yours are fresh and new. Third, targeting you is a safer prospect than targeting me, though I will admit either of us is risky so long as we are seen as being in my father’s favor. Fourth, and possibly most pertinent, you are soon going to be appointed as the Royal Marshal in the upcoming campaign against Darrow. Don’t you think that will cause a stir?”

Will counted down his fingers. “All right, first, second, and third, I can’t argue against you on those, but number four isn’t known, so it shouldn’t be a factor.”

She laughed. “The palace is full of spies. Spies for Darrow, spies for the lords of the realm—even the merchants have spies listening in case Father makes a decision that will affect trade! Father assumes that his every word will be reported to someone, and the only secrets he believes in are those he hasn’t spoken of—to anyone. Very often he says things with the intention of having them reported to his opponents.”

He frowned. “Are you saying he gave me this title and decided to put me in charge of the war campaign just to get me assassinated?”

Selene shook her head. “No. I’m saying that’s one of his intentions. He would have anticipated resistance to you taking charge of the army, and his plans probably involve both scenarios: your murder or your success. And again, that’s just one intention. He probably is counting on a number of long- and short-term effects from your appointment, and he likely wants you to succeed, but he’ll be ready to profit no matter how things turn out.”

Will scratched his head. “He sounds more and more like the fae and it’s giving me a headache. How long have you been thinking this way?”

“Since I was around ten,” she admitted. “It was the only way to survive.”

“So, what do you plan to do today, given your superior knowledge of politics?”

“I’ll take the high road. I know a few ladies with an almost encyclopedic knowledge of social circles. I may be able to find a name for our mysterious dead sorcerer more easily than you expect.”

Before they split up and went their separate ways, he had Selene teach him the grave-digging spell. Then he took a walk through the city and once beyond the walls, where he would draw less attention, he cast the elemental travel-disk spell and got on his way. When he reached the site of the landslide, he found that little had changed.

The bodies of the dead crossbowmen and sorcerer were all where he and Selene had left them. Will examined them with a combination of fascination and faint disgust. He’d seen a few dead bodies as a child working alongside his mother, and he’d seen far more during the invasion of Barrowden by Darrow, but generally all of them had been fresh bodies. Even after large battles, most of the dead were carted away as soon as possible, unless they were retreating, in which case the enemy was left with the chore.

Either way, he’d rarely seen bodies more than a day old, and he’d never had the chance to examine them closely. The first thing he noticed was that the men’s skin tone had changed, becoming pale and faintly bluish, at least on the parts he could see initially. He turned one of the crossbowmen over before rifling through the man’s pockets and was surprised the see that the skin on the other side had turned a dark purple. Gravity had caused the blood to pool on the downward-facing surfaces, making them darken, while the upper side of the body was pale.

One of the men had been nibbled on by something small, and all of them were beginning to attract ants and other small insects.

From the crossbowmen, he found little of note. Small weapons, a smattering of coins, their crossbows and ammunition—he collected these and stored them away. None of the weaponry was particularly unique, so it wouldn’t provide any clues to their identity, but it was worth a bit of money. Sure, maybe he was one of the richest men in the kingdom, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave valuable equipment to rot on the ground.

As an afterthought, he took their boots as well. Most of them were in decent condition and would fetch a decent price from a reseller. Selene would be aghast if she saw me right now, he thought with a chuckle.

He spent more time on the sorcerer. The man’s clothing was deceptively plain, but the fabric was of high quality, though he didn’t find any embroidery or other marks that might steer him in the direction of who had made the clothes. The man’s personal belongings were likewise ambiguous, a simple gold ring, a small knife, and a purse filled with only seven gold marks and a few silver clima. He had to have been paid a lot more, but he wasn’t stupid enough to bring it with him, Will noted.

Though it seemed disrespectful to the dead, seeing King Lognion strip Darla down to bare skin had taught him a lesson. Sometimes people carried marks on their bodies that might provide useful information. Will carefully cut away the sorcerer’s clothing and pulled off his boots, looking for scars, birthmarks, or even better, a unique tattoo. He found nothing worth mentioning, though.

“That was a waste of time,” Will said quietly. He stored the coins and the ring but stopped before putting the boots in his limnthal, giving them a second look. The boots were probably the most expensive item the nobleman had been wearing, tall riding boots made from rich leather that had been dyed black. They showed all the signs of having been long worn and well loved. The uppers were scuffed but had been recently polished, while the piping seemed somewhat newer.

A richer nobleman would have replaced them before they were that worn, but this man had had them repaired, probably several times, not to mention resoling them. Will turned the boot he held over and looked at the bottom. The sole was definitely newer, with a small heel and no sign of wear in the sheltered part of the instep.

Then he spotted it. The crafter’s mark, or in this case, the sign of the cobbler who had resoled the boot. To Will’s surprise, it seemed familiar. A slow smile spread across his face. As old as the boots were, they had probably been resoled several times, and the cobbler might very well remember them—and their owner.

He stored the boots in his limnthal, and after using the grave-digging spell to bury the bodies, began his return trip to Cerria. He had a friend he wanted to talk to at Wurthaven.

***

Seth stared at him in surprise. “Why would I do that?”

“Your father is a cobbler. I thought you could help me find the owner,” said Will innocently.

“Then ask him,” growled his seldom-seen acquaintance. “I’m just a student trying to get by.”

“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?”

Seth jerked back from the doorway as though he had been burned. “No! Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of being mad at you.”

Will winced. “That hurts even more. Just because I’m married to the king’s daughter doesn’t mean you need to be afraid of me. Even if you told me to piss off, I wouldn’t hold a grudge or try to do anything to you. I’m not like that.”

Seth’s lips formed a thin line, but he didn’t reply.

Will took a step forward, then paused. “Can I come in? I feel silly standing in the hall.”

His old roommate stepped back and held the door wide. Will stepped in and then took a seat at one of the two small study desks. Seth shut the door and then went to sit on the bottom bunk across from the desks. “I don’t blame you,” he said without preamble. “Just so you know.”

That caught Will by surprise. “For what?”

“For any of it, starting with Dennis and ending with Rob last year.”

Will winced. His friendship with Seth had taken a bad turn after he had challenged and then killed Dennis Spry, the son of Count Spry, in a duel. While it had technically been a duel, Will had set it up deliberately for the express purpose of killing the other student. In his own heart, he had known it was murder, and Seth had never felt comfortable around him since then. Rob’s death, or conversion to vampirism, hadn’t really been his fault, except that Rob wouldn’t have been so unfortunate it if wasn’t for his association with Will. He still didn’t know if his old friend was completely dead, or just mostly dead.

Unsure what to say, he replied, “Thanks.”

Seth leaned forward. “I mean it sincerely. I’ve done a lot of thinking, especially about Janice and what happened with Dennis. What you did was shocking, but looking back, I think you did the right thing.”

Will stared at the floor. “I appreciate that. I’m not sure I agree, but I couldn’t think of anything better.” Hearing Seth’s words removed a weight he hadn’t quite been aware of. In some way, his ex-roommate’s opinion served as a proxy for his own conscience. If Seth pronounced him innocent, maybe he wasn’t completely lost. “You should come over and eat with us sometime.”

Seth’s brows went up. “With Princess Selene? I’m not sure I could keep my food down, I’d be so nervous.”

“She’s not like most nobles, or royals I suppose,” said Will. “I mean, she’s different, because of how she was raised, but she’s genuinely kind, through and through. She cares about people.”

“I don’t have the clothes either,” argued Seth.

“What you’re wearing is fine. I don’t dress up to go home. Look at me.” Will stood and turned around. “This is how I dress most days.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Seth after a moment. “Let me see the boots.”

Will summoned them from the limnthal and handed them to Seth. His friend turned them over and looked at the sole. Something flickered across his features. “I know the cobbler already.”

“Who?”

“My father. This is his mark.”

“Do you know who owned the boots?”

Seth gave him a look of exasperation. “Just because he’s my father doesn’t mean I know his customers. I’ll have to ask him. Can I hold on to these for a day or two?”

“I need to know quickly. It’s important. I can come with you.”

“It’ll be easier if I talk to him privately. If you show up, he might not speak freely. My family is rather leery of royalty. I can go ask him tonight and let you know tomorrow.”

“It’s very urgent,” admitted Will.

Seth sighed. “It always is with you. Mind telling me exactly why? Or are you going to keep me in the dark the way you did Rob?”

Will blanched as the words struck him like a physical blow. “Just so you know, Seth, I did open up to Rob before the end. It doesn’t change the guilt I feel, but he made his own choice fully knowing the danger.”

“Sorry,” said Seth, sincerity in his voice. “I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“Someone tried to assassinate Selene,” said Will flatly, baring the truth.

His old roommate’s breath hissed as he took a sharp intake of air. “Don’t joke about that!”

“I’m not.”

Seth was already putting on his shoes and tightening his belt. “I’ll go now. Do you want to wait here, or should I find you at your house?”

Will smiled. “Come to the house for dinner. If I start now, I can prepare something special for you.”

“Don’t you have a cook? Surely you don’t live in that big house and still cook your own meals?”

He growled. “Don’t get me started. There is a cook, but I haven’t made peace with the fact yet, although Jeremy seems like a nice fellow.”

Chapter 11

Selene still hadn’t returned, and Jeremy was already deep in preparation for the evening meal. Even so, Will would have joined him in the kitchen, but Blake interrupted him with a reminder. “You told me to mention your reading the next time you had some time to kill.”

He stared at the manservant for several seconds before his brain caught up. “Oh.” He had indeed told Blake something along those lines. Outside of his normal classwork, he had begun reading several instructional histories on war and strategy. The book he was currently working his way through was dry and rather boring, but it did hold occasional gems. Deflated, Will made his way up the stairs to his study.

The first half hour was rough, until he got into the flow of book, though it helped that the author had finally gotten around to describing one of the larger battles that had taken place on the central plains of Darrow. That particular fight between the Terabinian Revolutionary Forces and the Darrowan Army seemed to revolve largely around control of the main road that traversed the region, connecting the capital of Myrsta with the mountains where the pass leading to Barrowden was located. Ultimately, the road was a major portion of the artery that connected the two largest cities, Myrsta and Cerria.

The outcome was a bit depressing, for it was one of the first major defeats for the Terabinian revolutionaries. If they had taken control of the road it would have crippled the Prophet’s ability to move men and supplies through the heart of Darrow and might have led to his eventual downfall. As it was, their loss allowed the Prophet’s troops to drive their Terabinian countrymen back to the mountains and led to the split of Greater Darrow into the two modern nations that existed today, Terabinia and Darrow.

Many of the earlier battles had been marked by grand, magical battles between the wizards who supported each side. Those were the portions that Will was most interested in, but they were also the most poorly described. While the author went into great detail regarding troop movements, logistics, and tactical stratagems, the magical conflicts were largely glossed over, except to note their results.

In the earliest battles of the war, Terabinia had dominated the magical conflicts, which generally led to rout and disaster for the Darrowans in the clash of soldiers that followed. In fact, in almost every instance Will could find, the magical conflict directly predicted the outcome of the battle that followed, except when there was no magical battle at all. That puzzled him.

Calling up the limnthal, he addressed his grandfather, a resource that any historian worthy of the name would have drooled over, for Arrogan had actually fought in the Terabinian War for Independence. “I have a question about war,” said Will without preamble.

“Let me guess, your blushing bride has had enough of the training and now she’s out to kill you. Is that it?”

Will laughed. “She hasn’t come after me with an axe yet, but I’m sure she thought about it once or twice. She’s past the second compression, and she’ll be after me to do the third before long.”

“How long did it take?”

“Just a bit over three months.”

“Hmm. She will probably be all right then, but it isn’t certain.”

“What would you do?” asked Will.

“Refuse her,” said Arrogan immediately. “I never lost an apprentice to compression sickness, but I was overly cautious. She’s your wife. Telling her no isn’t quite as simple.”

Will thought it over for a moment and found he agreed. Selene wouldn’t settle for second-order, and he’d have hell to pay if he tried to stop her. “She wants to risk it. I’ve fought her most of the way so far. I’m not going to stand in her way now. Besides, if I did, she knows enough to do it herself when I’m not around.”

“What was your question about?”

Will remembered what he was studying as his mind snapped back to its previous course. “The Battle of the Plains, during the Terabinian War for Independence. I was reading about it and it seems that there wasn’t much magic used.”

“That was just a statement,” said Arrogan testily. “Don’t make me guess what you want to know.”

“Why didn’t they use magic? It seems to have tipped the tide for our side during the first half of the war.”

“Wizards, or as the case is these days, sorcerers, are a premium item during a war. The army with the most magic tends to have a large advantage, but as a consequence of that, a lot of warfare revolves around negating or overcoming that advantage. Magic users tend to have a high casualty rate.”

“So…”

“I wasn’t there,” said Arrogan finally.

“But surely there were other wizards.”

The ring gave a reluctant sigh. “Something came up, and I had to leave the main body of the Terabinian army. There were other wizards, but I was the only third-order wizard, and Valemon’s force had been reinforced with a large number of sorcerers. Teragin bluffed, and they called him on it. The result was a rout.”

“Teragin?” asked Will. “What do you mean by bluff?”

“The commander of the Terabinian force.” Arrogan paused for a moment, then continued, “By bluff, I mean he hoped they would assume I was still with the army. Up until then, we soundly punished them whenever magic came into play, but our own magical forces were severely strained, so we had been reluctant to use them in the later battles. The Prophet’s army was only too glad to avoid magical conflict if we didn’t start it at that point, since it hadn’t gone well for them before. Teragin assumed they’d fight conservatively and avoid using magic as they had previously, but what he didn’t know was that they were aware of the situation that took me away. They knew they had the advantage and they used it in full.”

Will frowned. “But you’re just one man.”

“You know very well the importance one person can have on a field of battle, William. You’ve been there. Tell me, what did you learn was the most important thing to winning a battle?”

He’d been doing a lot of thinking on that point during his reading, especially when he reflected on his own experience of war just two years prior. Will had some ideas, but he couldn’t speak with confidence. “There are a lot of important factors, but what I saw in person was how crucial morale could be.”

“Hmm, maybe there’s hope for your brain after all,” said Arrogan with a rare backhanded compliment. “Morale is hugely important, and the impact that the presence or absence of someone that the troops have come to rely on can make or break a line of men at a critical moment. But consider this as well: with a commander it can be hard for the troops to know when or where he is during the chaos of battle, but with a wizard, it can be painfully obvious.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I was there, no one dared try to burn our men alive. When I was absent, and the enemy knew it, they only had to incinerate a few hundred to completely demoralize them.”

“But the other wizards—”

“Weren’t third-order,” finished Arrogan. “I’ve told you that second-order isn’t much different from third in most regards, other than lifespan, but that statement leaves out several important facts. You’re still growing into your abilities so you haven’t seen it yet, but at the pace you’re improving, you soon will.”

Will tried to laugh. “That’s not cryptic at all, and here I was beginning to think you weren’t really a proper wizard. Can you speak plainly?”

“I could put my foot up your ass!” retorted Arrogan with a growl. “Remember when you took Ethelgren’s ritual spell away from him?”

That had been while he was riding along in his half-sister Laina’s body. “Well, Laina helped…”

“That was you!” snapped Arrogan. “Whatever else she did, I’m sure it was important, but that particular action, that was you. Only third-order wizards typically develop enough control over turyn around them to steal a spell from someone else, much less an ongoing ritual-spell in the hands of another third-order wizard.”

“I barely managed that,” admitted Will.

“You’re young, and Ethelgren was an enchanter,” said Arrogan, putting a prejudicial emphasis on the last word. “But he was still a third-order wizard, and much more experienced. If you had done that to him back when he was alive, he’d have become a laughingstock among his peers. Now consider this. These days third-order wizards aren’t simply rare—you’re the only one. If you don’t get killed by your own stupidity or a random bit of bad luck, you’re going to be a nightmare for the enemy sorcerers.”

“I don’t know that many spells yet, and I can only reflex cast two of them!” complained Will.

“How many of the king’s sorcerers can reflex cast anything? How many of them can keep three spells prepared? You can learn new spells. But I’m getting off topic. I wasn’t really referring to your knowledge. I’m talking about turyn control, not spells.”

It was Will’s turn to sigh. “Is this the ‘take the other man’s stick away from him’ speech? I know I have a stronger will, but that’s not going to help if they’re throwing fireballs at our army from fifty yards away. In a pitched battle, I’m not going to be standing right next to the enemy sorcerer.”

“There’s more to turyn control than just that,” said the ring.

“I can’t absorb a fireball from any real distance away either.”

“Absorption does require close proximity, but that’s not what I’m referring to either.”

“Then what? You’re making me crazy.”

“You told me about how you felt during that ritual. Do you remember? When the turyn was swirling around you and you felt like it would sweep you away…”

It had been a moment Will would never forget. Though he’d been standing perfectly still, the raging torrents of power twisting around him had made it feel as if he were riding atop a massive storm. In a word, it had exhilarated him. “It was amazing,” he answered quietly.

“Well, this isn’t nearly as addicting as that feeling of power, but what you experienced can serve as a good example. Imagine how you balanced the flow around you. It was too much to hold directly, but you nudged it along and built it slowly so that it grew in the way you desired. If your control was good enough for that, then you can probably affect more ordinary flows of turyn at a far greater distance.”

“Are you talking about a different kind of ritual?”

“No, and it isn’t a spell either. This is more like wild magic; it’s intuitive, and it grows naturally from your improving ability with turyn, both absorption and deliberate control. It’s something seen to a small degree with second-order wizards, but it was something that was always seen with third-order wizards, and to a much greater degree.”

Frustrated, Will replied, “You aren’t telling me what it is. You’re just talking around it.”

“Be patient! Damn! I’m doing the best I can. Here, this is a better analogy. Imagine you’re using a bow and you want to hit a target at a great distance. You have to compensate for the wind conditions if you expect to hit your target, right?”

“I’m not an archer, so—maybe? Why don’t you just go back to insulting me?” suggested Will. “We’ll both be happier.”

“Listen, you dunderheaded rabbit blossom! I’m trying to say—”

Will interrupted, “What’s a rabbit blossom? That’s a new one.”

“It’s where rabbit turds come out. Now shut up. I’m trying to say that you can affect the wind.”

“Well, yeah. I’ve been using the wind-wall spell for quite some time.”

“Not the actual wind, fool! I’m talking about the analogy. You can have a significant effect on the flow of turyn around you, out to a considerable range.”

He scratched his head. “And that will stop arrows?”

Arrogan’s response was an incoherent screech as he lost his patience and began to swear a blue streak. Will couldn’t help but smirk. He’d gotten so used to the old man’s tirades over the years that they actually relaxed him in an oddly perverse way. Plus, there was always the chance he might learn a new gem such as the recently acquired ‘rabbit blossom.’ After a minute he interrupted the litany of execration, “Oh, you meant spells.” There was a smirk in his voice.

His old master stopped cold, then, after a brief pause, he made an accusation: “You’re winding me up on purpose!”

“Only when I need some levity,” admitted Will. “You seem to enjoy it anyway.”

“That’s it. I’m never swearing at you again. You’ve ruined it, you warped degenerate.”

Will leaned back in his chair and laughed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Anyway, you were saying that by somehow twisting environmental turyn around I can do what exactly? Deflect spells?”

“First, don’t try it against force effects. As I’ve told you before, those are immutable—they can’t be stolen or even twisted by another caster—but all other spells are vulnerable to varying degrees. If the enemy is close by, you won’t be able to affect their spells as much, but in a battle, where people are casting spells at maximum range, you’ll find you can do quite a lot.”

“By creating some sort of turyn turbulence?”

“I’ve described it as best I can. You’ll have to feel your way through it.”

“Maybe I can experiment with help from someone. I’d rather not wait until the war starts to figure out what you’re talking about. Oh, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you about. Yesterday someone tried to kill Selene.”

“You probably should have started with that,” said Arrogan dryly.

It was relatively quiet in the house, and Will heard the front door open even though he was upstairs. “We’ll have to talk more later. I think Selene’s home.” He dismissed the limnthal before Arrogan could reply and jumped to his feet.

He took the stairs two at a time, and when he got to the bottom, he was only faintly disappointed to see that Blake was letting Seth into the entry hall. To be honest, he was glad to see his friend, but Selene had already been on his mind, and it was hard for anyone else to compete. “Seth! I’m glad you came.”

His young friend looked at him with a vague air of unease. “Are you sure it’s all right?”

“Of course!” Will gestured toward the parlor door. “Why don’t we go sit down? Supper isn’t ready yet and Selene isn’t back, so you may have to wait a short while before you can fill your stomach.”

“I don’t need to eat,” said Seth quickly. “I could just give you the news and head back to the dorm.”

“Ridiculous. You were one of my first friends at Wurthaven. You’ll be fine once you get to know my wife better.” Will sat and gestured to a cushioned chair. “So, what did you find out?”

Seth sat but his posture remained stiff. “Father recognized the boots immediately. They belong to a gentleman named Lewis Arberry—”

“Belonged,” Will corrected with a rueful look.

His friend swallowed, then continued, “According to Father, he’d been a regular customer for many years. He’s—he was—the third son of Viscount Arberry, and apparently he fell on hard times a while back. He’s been getting those boots resoled for quite a number of years.”

“You’re a wonder,” said Will. “I couldn’t have figured out who he was if it wasn’t for you. What do you know about the family? Where are the viscount’s lands? Was it the son who was in financial difficulty, or his father?”

Seth threw up his hands. “I’m the son of a cobbler, Will. I know next to nothing about nobles other than those I’ve met personally here at Wurthaven.”

The sound of the front door opening again announced Selene’s arrival, and Will smiled. “That’s fine. I know an expert on the topic, and I’m fairly sure that’s her coming in the door.” He winked and added, “I hope you’re hungry.”

Chapter 12

Tender pork loin served over a bed of bitter dandelion greens kept Will’s attention while Selene and Seth became acquainted. For all of his previous resistance to hiring a cook, Will couldn’t deny Jeremy’s skill. The pork had been roasted in a sweet sauce with some sort of fruit that had been rendered almost impossible to identify. Plum? It might be grapes. Will couldn’t be certain, but he knew that he approved of the pairing of sweet pork with the tart, astringent dandelion greens. In another dish, there were long beans waiting to be sampled, decorated with yellow dandelion flowers, which were much sweeter than the greens.

Jeremy and I are going to have to have a talk after this, thought Will, smiling around another mouthful. Then he glanced up at the heretics seated at the table with him. Seth was too nervous in Selene’s presence to eat much, and she was doing her best to help the cobbler’s son relax with an endless stream of small talk and polite questions about his family.

Eventually, he could take no more. “Let him eat,” Will grumbled.

Selene’s glance in his direction was one of annoyance, but ever mindful, she returned to their guest. “I am keeping you from eating, aren’t I?”

“I’m enthralled, Your Highness,” Seth answered hurriedly. “Your curiosity about my humble family is flattering.”

Selene frowned, then looked at Will again. Will translated for his friend. “She asked you to forgo the formalities. You’re a guest in our home.”

Abashed, Seth dropped his fork and bowed his head. “Please forgive me, Your H—Selene.”

“None of that either,” mumbled Will around a mouthful of food. “Just eat. Trust me, she’s nicer than she looks.”

Scandalized, Selene rocked back in her chair, her eyes wide. “And what does that mean?”

Will shrugged, continuing to chew. The food was too good to spoil by swallowing hurriedly. The air grew colder as he masticated, and by the time he finally cleared his throat to answer, Seth was becoming visibly anxious. “I meant—that as lovely and beautiful as you are—your true nature is even sweeter.”

Her cheeks colored. “Oh. That was rather thick, but thank you.”

Will grinned, then glanced at Seth. “Better shovel in a few bites while I keep her distracted.”

That prompted a nervous giggle from Seth who slowly began to relax. The chitchat slowed to a crawl, and everyone paid more attention to their food for the next little while. Will, having been more serious from the start, finished first, and he used the opportunity to gain the initiative in the after-dinner conversation. “Seth helped me find out who tried to kill you,” he announced without warning.

If the news surprised her, it didn’t show on her features. Selene finished her current mouthful, then dabbed at her mouth gracefully with a napkin. A few seconds later, mouth empty, she replied, “Well, that steals my thunder, doesn’t it? I was planning to tell you I had narrowed it down to three candidates. Let’s hear the name. Now we won’t have to go through the tedium of figuring out which it was.” Before he could speak, she threw up her hand. “Wait, let me guess first. I want to know if my suspicion is correct.”

Will waited.

“Lewis Arberry?”

His brows went up. “Damn. I’m impressed.”

She waved her hands dismissively. “Don’t be. The other two matched the description, age, and presumed circumstances, but they had absolutely no reason to want you dead.”

“Except it’s you they’re targeting,” insisted Will.

“We’ll see,” she said dryly, clearly not convinced. “Lewis Arberry’s father is one of your vassals.”

That confused him. “I’m not the king. I don’t have vassals.”

A look of embarrassment came over Selene’s face, and she immediately glanced at Seth, as the mother of a child who had said something foolish might do. Fortunately, Seth was just as ignorant. “I only know his father is a viscount.”

Selene folded her napkin and put her hands in her lap. School was in session. “William, as Duke of Arenata, you have several vassals, minor noblemen, who will swear fealty directly to you. They also pay taxes to you, and through you to the king. Principal among them, are Baron Hargast, Viscount Arberry, and Baron Lambel. There is also a smattering of knights with small holdings who hold allegiance to you.”

He digested that news for several seconds, then responded, “That’s all well and good, but if they owe fealty to me why haven’t I met any of them? Shouldn’t there be an exchange of oaths?”

She nodded. “Since your elevation was handled privately, to avoid making public your own lack of fealty, that hasn’t happened. In more ordinary times, you would meet with all of them at the harvest festival, where they would be expected to render their vows; however, with the war coming that will be expedited at the first gathering of the host.”

“Host?” asked Will.

“The army,” she clarified. “Your vassals will be there.”

Seth held up a hand, which caused Will to chuckle. “Speak up, this isn’t a classroom.”

“Did you say, ‘lack of fealty?’” asked Seth.

Will gave Selene an amused look, knowing she hadn’t meant to give away that fact. Ever honest, Selene moved on without showing her discomfort. “Will and my father don’t get along. Since he has continually refused to accept a title because of the oath of fealty, my father decided to bestow a title anyway and keep the matter of fealty private.”

Poleaxed, Seth stared blankly at her for a second, then at Will. “You refused to swear—to the king.” He looked back at Selene. “And you married…” The color slowly drained from his face.

Reaching out, Selene snatched up the wine bottle and refilled their guest’s cup. Will leaned over and picked it up, then pressed it into Seth’s hand. “Why don’t you take a deep breath and have a drink?” he suggested.

Seth did as he was told, but after a moment he set the cup aside. “You really didn’t swear fealty to the king?”

“Don’t worry,” answered Will. “He figures that my marriage to Selene is enough to keep me under control.” That wasn’t strictly true, since Lognion no longer controlled Selene either, but Will wasn’t about to explain that the heart-stone enchantment gave the king absolute control over his sister Laina. Nor was he going to explain that he had sisters.

They finished the meal and moved back into the parlor, where Blake served them a sweet dessert wine. Selene gave the man a strange look. “Didn’t I tell you to stop doing everything? Where’s Melina? You should be resting.”

A sheepish look came over the manservant’s face. “I’m already looking for a replacement for her. She quit yesterday.”

Selene frowned. “She’d only been with us a few days. That makes no sense—” Her expression froze, and her eyes went to Will’s face. He was watching her with the same thought.

“They had to know when and where,” Will said quietly.

She nodded. “And she was outside the study when we discussed our plans.”

Blake’s face was dark. “I’ll look into it immediately. The girl came with good recommendations from a respectable service.”

“Perhaps I should do it,” suggested Selene.

Will shook his head. “You should focus on Lewis Arberry.”

“Isn’t he dead?” put in Seth quietly.

“He means I should look into his situation. Where he was living and with whom. Hopefully we can find someone with some knowledge of who instigated this.”

“You already said his father is Will’s vassal. Doesn’t that mean the father, Viscount Arberry, is the one behind it all?”

“It’s possible,” said Selene, “but not likely. It’s a very tenuous connection. The viscount still has a lot to lose, but his son less so. Personally, I suspect someone else must have offered Lewis money to get rid of William.”

“Or you,” added Will, still clinging to his own hypothesis.

She shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “You’ll see who’s right before long.”

After that, they turned to lighter topics, and soon Seth made an excuse to leave, saying he needed to study. Will returned to his own reading, and the rest of the evening was relatively quiet and somewhat boring.

The next day, Will returned to his classes while Blake and Selene followed their respective leads. He didn’t like leaving it to others to do the legwork, but he couldn’t deny that each of them probably knew their business better than he did. Anxious to learn what they had found, he returned home as soon as he could, but neither had returned, so he went through his daily spell practice to help keep his mind occupied.

Since their near suffocation underground, Will had added Selene’s digging spell to his repertoire, along with another general-purpose spell from Arrogan’s journal, a minor telekinesis spell that would allow him to pick up or move small objects across short distances. He had seen Arrogan use it several times back when he was alive, usually for simple tasks like calling a book to his hand from across the room.

Although the small spell was unrelated, Will chose it for the same reason he learned the digging spell. Nearly suffocating for lack of something so simple had showed him that he needed more general-purpose utility spells. It was impossible to say what he might need in a pinch, but by learning a variety of spells with a lot of flexibility in their uses, he could hopefully avoid such dire circumstances in the future. Better to know something and not need it than the reverse, he decided.

Eventually, he finished his rotation of spells and moved on to some range practice with his force-lance and then the light-darts spells, but he kept that short since he wanted to be at home when Selene arrived. With nothing else to do, he reluctantly returned to his reading while he waited.

This time he read from a newer book titled War and Modern Sorcery. It had been written by Arenvald Arenata, the grandfather of the previous Duke Arenata, the one Will had been forced to kill while preventing the mad duchess from unleashing a demon-lord on the city. Arenvald Arenata had led an active life and had been involved in several small, defensive battles during his lifetime, as well as helping Terabinia’s ally, Trendham, during one of their border disputes with the Fareshites.

Will found the book particularly interesting despite his prejudice against the title, for it actually devoted quite a bit of time to considering the proper use of magic both in preparation for battle, during battle, and afterward. The perspective naturally focused on sorcery and the use of elementals, but most of the subject matter applied generally to magic and its application in military situations.

Given the fact that sorcery was the main type of magic being used, Will expected that the author would recommend liberal use, but the book turned out to advocate for exactly the opposite. To quote it directly, “Sorcerers, being the smallest fraction of one’s force, and the most valuable, should be used judiciously and only for that which cannot be accomplished in any other, more mundane fashion.”

That made little sense to Will. It sounded like something he would have been told by the instructors at Wurthaven. But they were teaching students who quite literally used magic at the expense of their own lives. Sorcery didn’t have that limitation. As he got deeper into the book, it became clear that Arenvald mainly thought that magic should be restricted to intelligence gathering or situations in which the enemy had very little magic of their own.

“Sorcery makes small the feats of men and the striving of soldiers. Its use diminishes morale and breeds laziness while inviting the enemy to focus their efforts on eliminating your greatest advantage, your sorcerers.”

Having stood in a shield wall face-to-face with hundreds of men who were trying their best to put something sharp and pointy into his face or belly, Will wasn’t sure he agreed. At least not on all points. He could concede that excessive use of magic might make soldiers less willing to fight if they thought they weren’t needed, but he couldn’t see it weakening their morale. What had weakened their morale most was when the enemy began lobbing balls of fire into their lines and incinerating soldiers who had no effective way to defend themselves.

“Then again, many of the sorcerers among the forces Arenvald commanded were minor noblemen,” muttered Will. “They probably didn’t want to overexert themselves or make themselves the focal point for enemy assassins.” While he knew for a fact that some noblemen were exceedingly brave—Sir Kyle for example—he had no doubt that many others were considerably less so.

In Arenvald’s descriptions of his skirmishes with the Fareshites, Will found several interesting tidbits. The forces of the Great Khan had been involved in small incursions across the border with Trendham for years, hiding their activities under the thinly veiled disguise of unsanctioned banditry. When Arenvald Arenata had accepted the call for aid, he had wound up patrolling the southern border for a period of almost two years with a relatively large company of almost two hundred soldiers. He had also had seven sorcerers, aside from himself.

The fights against the Fareshites seemed to have informed his views on magic in battle the most. In the beginning, the duke had used magic profligately, but against an enemy with almost as many warlocks and sorcerers, that had apparently not turned out well.

“In any engagement, especially with an unknown force, the primary game is one of baiting the enemy’s magic users, for the first to reveal himself by spell or deed is guaranteed to die when the opposing force focuses their fire upon him. With this first exchange, the first to use magic is then down by one, and unless one side or another is sure of their advantage in numbers of their sorcerers, this can be a devastating loss. Therefore, lacking detailed intelligence of the enemy’s magical assets, one should always exercise restraint. This may go against one’s instincts, for the general rule of war is that he who strikes first has the advantage, but the opposite is true for magic. For sorcery, the rule should be the reverse: he who strikes second is more often the winner.”

Will mused over that for a while. He was tempted to dismiss the advice as the result of timidity on the author’s part, but he could see there might be some merit to the idea. But the real question is does it apply to me? If it did, it meant he might easily die in the opening exchanges of the coming war. Even if it didn’t, the rest of the magical support for the army would be composed of sorcerers. Ignoring Arenvald’s advice didn’t seem wise.

A noise from downstairs alerted him to Selene’s return, so he closed the book and went down to see what she had discovered. He was also hungry and ready to see what new surprise Jeremy had to offer.

Chapter 13

Since it was just Will and Selene that evening, they invited Blake to sit down and eat with them when he showed up a few minutes later. Although it went against usual manners, no one could bear to wait for the other’s news, so they let their food sit barely touched while they shared what they had discovered.

Well, Selene and Blake did. Will had no news to relate, so he kept his mouth busy while listening. He wasn’t merely hungry; he didn’t like to show disrespect to the cook—at least that’s what he told himself, and perhaps it was true, at least in part.

Selene insisted that Blake give his news first. “I tracked down Melina’s given address after confronting the service that recommended her. While there was a family living there, they had a different surname and no daughter. I checked with the neighbors just to be certain they weren’t lying, but I have little doubt that the girl’s name was probably a lie. Tomorrow I’ll go back to the service and see if I can find out who gave references for her since her personal information was fraudulent.”

“I had somewhat better luck,” announced Selene. “As expected, Lewis Arberry was not in the good graces of his father. In fact, he had been publicly disowned. Being a third son is bad enough, but without his father’s assistance he became nearly penniless. He abandoned his wife, and she divorced him last year. Since then he’s been living in a boarding house.”

“We should go search his room tomorrow,” Will mumbled around a mouthful of heavy bread.

“I already did,” said Selene. “There was little to find there.”

He nearly choked. “You were supposed to bring me along for anything dangerous!”

“You already killed the man,” she said dismissively. “I didn’t want to waste time, so I borrowed a few city guardsmen who were patrolling and brought them with me.”

“You can’t just borrow…” Will stopped as his wife raised one brow in askance, then he rethought his words. “Well, I suppose you can borrow the city guards, can’t you?”

She laughed. “It’s one of the perks of being royalty, but you could probably convince them to do the same once you proved your identity. Being a peer of the realm is almost as good as being royalty.”

Will still wasn’t happy about being left out, but he decided to pick his battles carefully. This one wasn’t worth it. “So what did you find?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she admitted. “It appears he was barely scraping by. But although the owner of the boarding house told me that Lewis had been on the verge of being kicked out for failure to pay his rent, last week that changed. He paid his back rent and had prepaid for the next three months. It seems he came into some money, though I failed to find any in the room.”

“I wonder how much they had to pay him to try and kill a royal,” mused Will.

Blake coughed. “For a princess, it would be a massive sum. Tens of thousands of gold marks. For a lord of the realm it would be less, perhaps only a few thousand.”

“Those numbers came readily to mind, didn’t they?” remarked Will.

“As you’re aware, I’ve led an interesting life,” said the manservant.

Selene broke in, “As desperate as Lewis was, he may have been willing to work for much less.”

“I hoped we would learn more,” said Will unhappily.

“I’m not done,” said Selene. “Tomorrow I’ll pay a visit to his ex-wife and daughter.”

Will frowned. “You said they were separated for a year.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps they were, and perhaps not. She’s still unmarried, but she’s managed to feed and clothe their daughter without much visible support. What would you do if you had to resort to crime to take care of your family?”

It became clear to him then. “You think he parted ways with her so she couldn’t be held responsible for his shady dealings?”

“Maybe. I’ll know tomorrow when I meet her.”

“I’m coming with you,” Will stated firmly.

“You’ll miss classes.”

He shrugged. “I can use the extra time to finish some of my reading.”

Selene smiled. “Be sure to bring his boots.”

The next day Will and Selene rose early, ate a small breakfast, and got moving. Neither of them could stand to wait any longer than necessary. Blake had his own lead to chase, so he didn’t come with them. Instead of taking a carriage, Will and Selene chose to walk since the weather was cold but fair.

Glancing over, Will noted that Selene was wearing her armored corset, an article of clothing that he heartily approved of now that he knew what it was. If she hadn’t been wearing it a few days before, he would have become an early widower. For his own part, he wore his hidden brigandine, but he intended to supplement it with an iron-body transformation before knocking on the door of their assassin’s former wife. He wished he could do the same for Selene, but the spell could only be used on oneself. His currently prepared spells included the iron-body spell as well as a force-dome and silver-sword spell.

They were headed for the merchant district, where Belinda Arberry lived along with her daughter, Theresa. They were almost halfway there when Will asked, “Are you sure it’s wise for us to go alone?”

Selene smiled, a sparkle in her eye. “Nervous?”

“I’m more worried about you. You still can’t use magic freely.”

She laughed. “I don’t actually intend to go alone.”

“Well, obviously we’re together.”

She pointed at a building on the corner ahead of them. They were deep in the market district and the building she indicated belonged to the City Watch; in fact, it was their main headquarters. “I thought I’d show you how to manage a dangerous situation properly.”

“So, I won’t worry the next time you’re on your own?”

“So maybe you won’t get yourself killed acting by yourself when I’m not around,” she countered. “I’ll introduce you to the watch captains. It’s time they learned your face.”

Given most of his experiences in life, Will wasn’t really certain he wanted anyone involved in law enforcement to know his face. He’d been in more jails than he’d been out of them, according to his personal reckoning, but he could see the logic of Selene’s statement. They entered the large front room of the watch building, which featured a long desk in front of the far wall. The desk and the two men behind it served the dual purpose of receiving citizen complaints and processing those who had just been arrested. One side had several officers with criminals in tow waiting to be documented, while the other end of the desk was clear.

Everyone glanced at Selene as she entered, not necessarily because she was royalty, but more so because she was female and exceptionally lovely. Pretty young women were a relatively rare occurrence in the building. Her current attire indicated modest wealth but gave no clue to her birth. Apparently, none of the watchmen that were present were familiar with her face, for they watched her with open interest as she marched toward the empty side of the desk.

Will immediately became defensive and began glaring back at some of the men who were staring too openly at his wife. Then he recognized one of them. “Ned?”

Selene stopped, watching him curiously. She hadn’t expected Will to be the first to meet someone he knew. The burly guardsman stared back at Will in confusion for a moment, then pointed with a faint smirk as recognition dawned on him. “Murder weapon?”

Will grinned and nodded. The man he was addressing had been the same guard who had once arrested him when he first tried to enter Branscombe. At the time he’d been wearing armor and clothing stolen from an enemy soldier that he’d killed.

Ned smiled back. “You’ve filled out some since then. Where’s your Darrowan uniform?”

He laughed. “I told you I wasn’t a spy.”

“I never really thought you were,” admitted the burly man.

“Then why’d you arrest me?”

“Rules is rules.” Ned nodded politely in Selene’s direction. “Pardon me, ma’am. I should have introduced myself. Ned Spratte, at your service.”

Selene’s expression acknowledged him but before she could reply, Will jumped in, feeling self-conscious. “This is my wife, S—”

“Lady Isabel!” interrupted Ned, snapping his fingers. “I remember you now. They had all of us take note of your face. Wait!” He glanced from her to Will and back again. “You married this scrounger?”

She nodded quietly, a faint smirk forming on her lips. Everyone in the room was watching them, except those whose hands were full with their current business.

Ned shook his head. “No accounting for taste I guess.” Then he asked Will, “What happened to you? Last I saw you; they were carting you off to face the king for desertion and kidnapping.”

Will blushed, then glanced at Selene. “Things worked out.”

It was then that the current shift captain stepped into the room from the back. Like everyone, his eyes were drawn to Selene, but unlike the others, he immediately recognized her. His voice cracked out, louder than a whip, “Attention! Men, show respect to the princess!”

The watchmen in the room all straightened, then stared at their captain, who for his part had his eyes firmly on Selene. After a second, he cast his gaze and the floor and then bent at the waist. “Your Highness, we are honored by your presence!” The rest of the room quickly followed suit, except for Ned, who seemed to have been paralyzed.

Selene accepted the scene with the aplomb possible only for someone who had been raised to it. Will did his best to hide his embarrassment, but there was one person in the room who was even more uncomfortable: Ned. At long last, the poor man’s brain began moving again and rather than merely bow, he fell to his knees, his red face directed at the floor. “Please forgive me, Your Highness.” The tone of his voice was that of a man who obviously feared his life might be forfeit.

“Please rise,” said Selene graciously, reaching out to touch the timorous guard on his shoulder. “You have nothing to fear on my account. Any friend of my husband’s is a friend of mine.”

Ned slowly rose, but his eyes were fixed on Will’s and they were filled with the dread knowledge that he had once arrested the man now married to the crown princess. The princess might think they were friends, but Ned knew otherwise, and he expected his end to begin with Will’s next words.

All eyes were on them as Will replied, “It’s all right, Ned. I honestly don’t hold any ill will. I was truly glad to see someone from back then.”

“I was just doing my job!” exclaimed Ned.

“And you did it well,” said Will. “Though next time, remember this and let them have some water while they wait to be taken to the lockup.”

Selene’s expression was a combination of curiosity and approval as she tried to figure out exactly how they knew one another. She didn’t know the precise circumstances, but she was happy to see that the man she had chosen matched her in his treatment of those who might have wronged him.

The next few minutes were less remarkable as Selene had Will introduced to all the ranking watch officers who were present before explaining she needed to borrow a few men for an impromptu outing. Will was somewhat amazed to see that the captain in charge sent five men with her without so much as even asking what she needed them for.

When they were back in the street, with two men ahead and three behind, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, “That man, Captain Lipton, he didn’t even question you. Shouldn’t he have at least asked what you wanted them for?”

“Although my father has long strived to provide a fair and efficient justice system, he has never encouraged those who enact and police those laws to question him or those who represent him. To be honest, it hadn’t really occurred to me either, until you mentioned it just now. Perhaps you should devote some time to thinking about how to change that someday when I come to power.”

He grimaced. Ask an honest question and you get more work, he thought. He had no idea how to improve the world; he just knew when he saw something that didn’t feel right. Will turned it over in his mind a few times while they walked, but he was no closer to a solution when they finally stopped in front of a modest house on the left side of the street, Belinda Arberry’s home.

Chapter 14

Selene glanced at the watchmen, and two of them stepped away to circle the house and make certain no one attempted to leave via the kitchen door. Of the three remaining men, Selene addressed one in particular. “After we go inside, you’re to wait out here and make sure no one leaves or enters.” She turned to the other two men. “You two will come in with us. I’m going to question the matron, Belinda Arberry, if she’s here. Once I’ve engaged her, you’re to search the rest of the house and bring out anyone hiding in the other rooms. I want to know who’s there and who they are. Don’t leap to violence, but be cautious.”

Will couldn’t help but be impressed by the brevity and clarity of her orders. “What about me?” he asked with a smile.

“Same as always,” she snapped with a sparkle in her eye. “Stay close to me and show some leg to distract them.”

He blew a kiss in her direction and stepped up to rap heavily on the door with his knuckles. After a moment he heard a woman’s voice answering, “Just a minute.” When the door swung open a minute later, a maid stood there. “Can I ask who’s calling?” There was a look of worry and confusion on her face when she noticed the watchmen.

“Her Highness, Princess Selene Maligant of Terabinia,” Will replied. “Is your mistress at home?”

The poor maid began to stutter. “I-I’m not sure…” Her eyes were on the ground, and her body began to shake in terror. After a second, she fell to her knees. “Forgive me, Your Highness, I forgot to show proper respect.”

“Get out of the doorway,” ordered Will. The maid tried to rise hurriedly and lost her balance. He moved to catch her shoulder, hoping to steady her, but that only frightened her more when she thought he meant to seize her.

“William,” said Selene quietly, shaking her head when he glanced back at her. “Patience.” They waited several long moments while the maid sorted herself out and eventually scrambled out of the way. Then they entered.

The house was modest but clean and well taken care of. The front door opened into what might have been called a parlor but was more of a multipurpose living area that served as the main room and the dining area. A small doorway led to a kitchen, and a stair off to the right led upstairs, presumably to the bedrooms. A young, somewhat attractive lady was descending as they entered.

“Laura, who was at the door?” The woman’s words slowly faded as her eyes took in the watchmen, William, and the modestly dressed princess. Recognition struck, and the blood drained from her cheeks. She sank slowly to her knees. “Your Highness.”

“Belinda Arberry?” asked Selene.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Get up. I need answers. Is there a place we can sit?”

“The table, Your Highness.” Belinda pointed at the kitchen table with its simple wooden chairs. Her hand was trembling. The two watchmen moved past her, one toward the kitchen, the other making for the stairs. That provoked a response. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Is there anyone else in the house?” asked Will.

“My daughter. Please, she’s innocent. Don’t hurt her!”

“For the moment, I only want answers,” stated Selene. “What comes after depends on your words.” She pointed at one of the chairs. After the woman had found a seat, Selene joined her and Will dragged a chair off to one side for himself. “Do you know why we are here?”

“No, Your Highness,” said Belinda, struggling to cover her rising anxiety.

Selene’s response was so cold and flat that it sent shivers down Will’s spine, for it reminded him of her father. “That was a lie, Belinda. I would advise you against doing so again. I already know more than you realize about your relationship with your estranged husband. From this point forward I expect honesty, even if you fear that your answers will anger me, for if you lie, I will become angrier still. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Do you know why we are here?” Selene repeated.

Belinda was becoming visibly agitated and she began to beg, “Please, Your Highness! I truly don’t know!” As she did, she stood up from the chair suddenly, which startled Will. Before he realized it, he had summoned his saber from the limnthal and held it mere inches from the woman’s throat, prompting a gasp from Selene and a choking squeak from Belinda. A scream of pure terror came from the direction of the stairs, where the daughter, Theresa, was descending behind the watchman.

“Don’t kill Momma!” screamed the young girl. She appeared to be somewhere in the vicinity of seven or eight years old. The watchman grabbed her quickly as she started to dart past him.

“Theresa, don’t worry. No one’s going to hurt me,” said Belinda Arberry with forced calm as she stared at the keen edge of the sword. A tear traced its way down her cheek. “Go back upstairs and wait for me. I’ll explain everything later.” Her eyes were pleading as she looked back at the princess.

Selene covered her surprise quickly and gestured to the guard while Will quietly returned his sword to its extradimensional storage place. “Take her back to her room for now,” she ordered. A second later she spoke to Belinda, “I would also advise you not to startle my husband, Mistress Arberry. Now answer the question honestly. I don’t expect you to have exact knowledge. Tell me why I’m here.”

Belinda’s expression grew despondent. “Lewis did something, didn’t he?”

Selene smiled, but no warmth showed in her eyes. “That’s better. Doesn’t it feel good to be truthful?”

“I don’t know where he is,” blurted out Belinda. “Whoever he hurt—he didn’t tell me! Please, you have to believe me.”

“You know what your husband was doing for a living.” Selene’s remark was a statement rather than a question.

“He told me he scared people into paying what they owed.” Selene’s eyes narrowed angrily, and Belinda hastened to add, “And sometimes more than that! He did more than just hurt some people.” Something broke in her then. “He killed someone important, didn’t he?”

“Almost. My husband and I are still reasonably healthy, though. I’m afraid Lewis didn’t survive the attempt, however.”

Belinda’s shoulders slumped, and her arms fell limp beside her. The expression on her face communicated her feeling clearly—her death was inevitable. “Please, Your Highness. I knew very little, and my daughter knew nothing. She’s innocent. Do what you will with me but spare her life.”

Will’s immediate reflex, despite the seriousness of the crime, was to explain that neither he nor Selene would dream of hurting a child for their parent’s wrongdoing. He started to say as much when Selene caught his eye and raised her hand. “William, why don’t you step outside for a few minutes? I’d like to speak to Mistress Arberry alone, woman to woman.”

He remained still for a moment, his eyes locked with hers, wondering what she meant to do, but in the end, he decided to trust her. He took his leave from the room and stood outside the front door. While he waited, he couldn’t help but reflect on what he had just seen, particularly the image of the young girl staring at him with horror in her eyes. Threatening to decapitate a mother in front of her child hadn’t been his intention; he’d simply reacted without thinking. He kept hearing Belinda’s calm voice as she told her daughter to go back upstairs.

There had been death in her eyes, and he’d been its representative. His emotions were in turmoil, as he felt ashamed of his own role in the scene and simultaneously inspired by the heroic resolve and self-sacrifice evident in the mother’s calm acceptance. But she’s the villain here, he told himself, isn’t she? That wasn’t clear. Her husband had obviously done wrong, though perhaps he’d possibly become a criminal for a not entirely ignoble purpose.

Belinda Arberry had been a silent accomplice and beneficiary, but did that make her evil, or merely desperate?

When Selene emerged from the house fifteen minutes later, she seemed composed and unruffled. In her hand was a small notebook and a freshly written letter of credit. She handed them to him.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“The letter authorizes you to receive a sum of five thousand six hundred and thirty-five gold crowns from Mistress Arberry’s bank holdings. Give it to Blake when we get home, and he can take it to the bank and handle the transfer. The notebook contains the name of the man who paid Lewis to assassinate you.”

Will flipped the notebook open and saw a name, Benjamin Doster, along with an address in the dockside district. Next to the name was a number that matched the amount of coin that was to be paid from the Arberry account. After a second, he asked, “You made her pay us the fee he received for the assassination?”

Selene shrugged. “It seemed fair.”

“And that’s it? You’re not going to do anything else?”

Her expression was empty. “Should I? Lewis had already paid his helpers, so that sum will leave her with a loss. I suspect she’s already on the verge of bankruptcy. You know the type of charity work I do. Do you think I should add another orphan to the list of children that need help?”

There was a certain deadness in her tone that bothered him. After hearing her use her father’s verbal tactics earlier, it unsettled him even further. Yet Selene had obviously shown mercy to the woman. “No, I just wanted to make sure I understood your intentions.” He studied her face and leaned closer. “Are you all right?”

Selene’s eyes darted first left, then right, indicating the watchmen that stood beside them, then her expression hardened. “We are not alone.”

Message received, he thought sourly. Mother forbid I should inquire about your emotional state in public! Some aspects of being a royal would never feel normal to him. He tried to hide his annoyance, and the two of them began to walk in the direction of the dockside district.

The watchmen they had borrowed separated from them at Selene’s request, walking roughly fifteen feet behind them to allow them some privacy. At the same time, Will noticed a certain heaviness become visible in Selene’s shoulders, but she kept her back straight. She’s definitely upset.

“What’s wrong?” he asked once they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Nothing,” she answered immediately, but then she bit her lip and rethought her answer. “Why did you look at me like that back there?”

“When?”

“In the Arberry home.”

Will thought about it for a moment. He wasn’t aware of having borne a strange expression, but there could only be one thing she was referring to. “You reminded me of your father for a moment,” he admitted.

Selene blinked, and the pain his reply caused was plainly apparent. “That’s what I thought,” she said softly.

“Is that why you wanted me to step outside?”

She nodded sadly. “I still had worse to say and do, and I couldn’t bear you seeing me like that.” After a moment she asked, “Do you think I’m a monster?”

“You’re asking the man who held a sword to a woman’s throat in front of her child?”

“That was just a reflex.”

“My reflexes have killed people before. Sometimes before I knew if it was the right thing or the wrong thing to do.”

“It was still a reflex,” said Selene. “You were being protective. Maybe it seemed villainous in retrospect, but no one who saw it would have blamed you. What I did was cold and calculating. Just like him.”

‘Him’ was her father, the sociopathic king of Terabinia. Will felt bad for his honesty then, for there was no one Selene loathed more than the man who had raised her. “You were a little scary, but you weren’t him. You caught me off-guard for a second, but there is a clear difference between you and your father.”

“Don’t fool yourself,” she argued. “After you left, I deliberately played on her fears to get what we needed.”

“Did you pretend you’d hurt her daughter?”

“Not explicitly. I did it just as I was raised. I let her create her own fears and then talked around those fears in a way that made them ten times worse. She’ll be having nightmares for years.”

Will had been on the receiving end of that technique several times with King Lognion, but never once had he doubted the man’s willingness to carry out his threats, whether they were unspoken or explicitly stated. Lognion didn’t bluff. It might not even be fair to call the man’s words threats. Lognion communicated in a brutal and efficient manner that let you know exactly what would happen to you if you displeased him. Even worse, the man seemed to have very little emotional involvement in his threats. When Selene’s father made a threat, it was a statement of fact, as plain and unemotional as the fact that the sun would rise.

“You acted as you saw him act,” said Will. “But behind it all, you still have human feelings, guilt, regret—you have a conscience. That’s the difference.”

Selene chewed her lip in a manner that was entirely unsuitable for a princess. Will found the expression of self-doubt rather appealing considering his wife’s otherwise unshakeable confidence at most times. After a moment, she shook her head in silent agreement.

He could tell she still had reservations, but they had finally reached the address listed in the late-Lewis Arberry’s notebook. For a home in the dockside district, it was surprisingly well kept, although small. A smattering of people moved back and forth along the road, most of them watching the small group of watchmen more than Will or Selene. Something was about to happen, and everyone in the vicinity could feel it.

Since Selene was still reflecting on herself, Will glanced at the watchmen, then ordered, “Same as before. Two in back, two to enter ahead of us, and one to stay at the door.” He knocked and waited until someone opened the door.

A woman in her middling years opened the door. Her face was slightly chubby, and her cheeks were ruddy, offsetting the pale grey that had stolen the color from her hair. As her eyes locked onto Will, the blood slowly drained from her face, leaving her looking lifeless and drained. It was several seconds before she noticed the guards beside him. Without thinking, she started to close the door, but Will blocked it with one hand. “I wouldn’t,” he warned. “Step back and clear the way. Is anyone else in the house?”

“No! There’s no one home!” she yelled, her voice rising to an exceptional volume. Rather than move, she continued to block the door.

“She’s warning someone else,” said one of the watchmen as he pushed her aside and the two of them entered.

At the same time, a man’s voice spoke from the next room. “Why are you yelling? Of course I’m home.” His statement was followed by a yelp as the watchmen found and restrained him. Will and Selene entered then, and the man grew still when he saw Will. “Shit.”

“You know why I’m here,” said Will.

“Don’t say anything, Ben!” cried the woman.

“Benjamin Doster, I presume,” stated Will. “I met a man named Lewis Arberry a couple of days ago. You paid him an exceptional sum of money.”

Ben lowered his head. “Aye. I did.”

“No!” yelled his wife.

“Shut up, Sandy!” the man bellowed back, then he looked at Will. “It was all me. She didn’t know nothin’ about it.” More noise came from the back of the house, and after a moment one of the backdoor watchmen dragged a teenager into the room.

“Dad?” The young man looked to be in the midst of puberty, and his features were a picture of confusion. “What’s going on?”

Will and Selene looked at each other and then Will spoke to the watchman. “Take him outside.”

“Don’t hurt him!” cried the woman, who Will assumed was probably the boy’s mother. “He’s all we have left.” Something about the way she said the words seemed to stab at Will, as though she thought they would mean something to him.

“What does that mean?” Will demanded.

Before Sandy could reply, her husband roared, “Shut up, Sandra!”

“I don’t care!” she yelled back. “You shouldn’t have taken that money! They’re going to kill us all now. The bastard should at least know who it is that wants him dead!” Her eyes fixed on Will with venomous hatred. The glare was so spiteful that Will took an involuntary step back, and Selene stepped forward protectively, as though she would shield him from the woman’s stare.

Sandy blanched when she realized it was the princess standing before her, but she didn’t wilt. She looked up at Selene and boldly told her, “You shouldn’t have married that one, Your Highness. I’m a loyal subject of your father’s, but that man doesn’t deserve to live. You may have me hanged for sayin’ it, but I’ll speak my mind anyway.”

Will’s mind was working furiously to understand her vitriol. He had initially thought the family’s last name sounded familiar for some reason, but he hadn’t been able to place it. Now, at last, a faint idea percolated through is mind. “Did you have an older son, or daughter?” he asked.

“He doesn’t even know which it is!” spat Sandy.

“A son,” said Ben quietly.

“Simon,” said Will. “You’re Simon’s parents.” Selene looked at him in confusion, wondering what he was referring to, so Will spelled it out for her. “I accidentally killed him and a girl, Lyndsey, during the vampire catastrophe.” His heart felt numb, empty. During the ritual that had wiped out most of the vampires plaguing the city, Will had lost his head during the euphoria that accompanied the ritual. Vampires had rushed them, and he had killed several of them while continuing the ritual, but he had also missed and hit two students who were in danger. He hadn’t discovered it until after the dust settled and the ritual was over.

“They would have been getting married next year,” said Sandy sourly. “And you laughed as you did it! They told us everything!”

“That isn’t true,” said Selene.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Your Majesty, but you weren’t there,” said the dead student’s mother.

“She’s right,” said Will, his face blank. He had suffered a considerable amount of guilt over his mistake that night, but he had also managed to forgive himself. His eyes met the woman’s. “But I wasn’t laughing because of that. I didn’t even know I had killed them until after everything was over. I was trying to protect them. My laughter was a result of the magic I performed.”

“You were drunk with power,” accused Sandy.

Will nodded. “That’s a good description, but I never meant to kill your son. If I had done nothing, he would have died. I tried to save him and killed him by mistake.”

The woman lowered her gaze and began to cry. Then her husband chided her, “You should have kept your mouth shut, Sandy. Now we’re both dead.” He looked at Selene and asked, “What will happen to our son?”

Selene glanced at Will, then responded, “Where did you get the money?”

Chapter 15

That evening, Selene was sitting up in bed as Will crawled under the covers. They hadn’t fully discussed what had happened at the Doster home, but he could tell she wasn’t going to sleep until they had. He lay down and closed his eyes to see how she would react.

She said nothing for a while, opting merely to sigh loudly. He waited another full minute, and after her third sigh he spoke, though he kept his eyes closed. “Go ahead and say it.”

“Do you think we did the right thing?”

“You’re the princess. Didn’t they teach you how to make these kinds of choices?”

Selene grabbed an extra pillow and pounded his face with it. “You know better than that! Besides, my father wouldn’t have chosen that. If he had heard of it, he would have eradicated the entire family. Then he would have located the grandparents and any other close family members and executed them as well. He’s very big on setting examples.”

“So when you ask if we did the right thing, you’re really asking me whether we should have had them executed?” clarified Will.

“Yes and no,” said Selene. “They did commit a crime, but at the same time I couldn’t help but feel like I understood their motivation.”

Will could still remember the chill that had gripped his heart when he had emerged from the ground and had found Selene collapsed before him with crossbow bolts standing out from her torso. If you had died, I might have made the same choice as your father, whether I felt responsible for their son’s death or not.

She continued, “I didn’t feel like it was right to punish them, but I also wonder if failing to make an example of them might bring us more trouble in the future.”

He shrugged. “Your father is a madman. He can make the choices he does because he doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘regret.’ If you need a model, my mom is better for this situation.”

“What would she say?”

“You can’t make your decisions based on what someone else might do. We let them live because it was the right thing to do. If they do something terrible in the future, that’s on them, not us. In other words, base your regrets on your own actions, not what someone else might do. You acted according to your conscience. Everything else is a problem for the future.”

“I still can’t believe you gave them the money, though.”

It was his turn to sigh. After they had finished interrogating Benjamin and Sandra Doster, he had chosen to return the assassin’s fee to them, on the condition that they split it with the family of Lyndsey Travoy. “I didn’t mean to kill those two students, but I still felt bad for them.”

“That was over five and a half thousand gold crowns. We could have used it to help a lot of people.” As usual, her charity came first in her own mind.

“Call it my selfishness,” said Will. “No amount of money is worth their children, but it made me feel better.”

“I still think he was lying,” stated Selene.

“About which part?”

“The sum. He said he received exactly five thousand six hundred and thirty-five gold crowns and that he paid that amount to Arberry to kill you. No one pays such a strange number for an assassination. It was probably an even number, and he kept some of it before paying the remainder to Arberry.”

Will frowned. “Does it matter? I chose to give it back to them.”

“I don’t like liars.”

“But you were fine with me letting them go after they paid to have me killed?”

She exhaled loudly. “I didn’t say it made sense. It’s just how I feel. You let them live and even gave them the money back. If he lied about the exact amount, it annoys me.”

“The real question is who gave them a sack of gold and told them who they should hire. Common folk like the Dosters wouldn’t even know where to go to hire an assassin, much less have such a fortune to spend on it,” said Will.

“That was the only part that made sense to me,” she returned. “Your true enemy saw an opportunity, and he used them to cover his trail. Even though we were able to trace it back to them, they couldn’t tell us who he was.”

“Or she,” added Will.

“I stand corrected; it could have been a he or a she. But whoever it was must have deep pockets if they’re willing to risk five or six thousand gold crowns by leaving them in a package with a note. What if the Dosters had chosen to simply keep the money? Then your enemy would have spent a fortune for nothing.”

“Well, that’s sort of what happened in the end anyway,” said Will with a smirk.

“You know what I mean. They did follow through and pay Arberry to kill you, even if he failed.”

Their conversation trailed off after that, and Will spent an unknown period circling the facts over and over in his mind while he tried to go to sleep. No new ideas came to him. Blake hadn’t turned up any leads regarding the serving girl who had quit either. It appeared possible that they would never know who had masterminded the scheme, and that bothered Will quite a bit. He had gotten used to having lots of enemies, but not knowing the one actually trying to have him killed made the spot between his shoulders itch.

If he didn’t know who the enemy was, he wouldn’t be able to guess where the next attack would come from, and if there was one thing he had learned from his endless practice with the point-defense shield, it was that if you didn’t see something coming, you couldn’t stop it. He drifted into a restless slumber in which shadowy men hunted him through the alleyways of his dreams.

The next week progressed in a rather ordinary fashion. Selene insisted on attempting the third compression, and while she was once again uncomfortable and unable to sleep for long, she seemed to be managing. As expected, she was plagued with a constant, mind-numbing exhaustion from being continually turyn deprived, but she bore it with a minimum of grumpiness. Will watched her worriedly as the days passed, ever fearful that she might fall over dead, or go to sleep and fail to wake up. As Arrogan had warned him, other than gauging how quickly she had adapted to the previous compressions, there was no way to be absolutely certain things wouldn’t go wrong with this one.

The odds were in her favor though. Will told himself that repeatedly.

He continued going to classes and keeping up his own spell practice. His private reading of military history continued to threaten his wakefulness, but he forced himself to keep going. Once in a while, he encountered fascinatingly clever stratagems that had been used, though none of them seemed like they would be likely to apply during the upcoming war. When the reading became too boring, he would take breaks to work on a new spell.

Will had only designed a few spells, one simple one with Arrogan’s help and a few engineering transmutations that had been part of a class project. This time, the spell he wanted to create was something entirely new. Selene had told him that the Driven required the help of both an earth and an air elemental to hide underground. Will wanted to do the same, but as he had no plans to become a sorcerer, it would take a custom spell.

He began with the water-breathing spell, which was actually an elemental spell that compressed and stored a supply of air into a tiny space within the user’s body—enough to last half an hour. With that, he wouldn’t have to worry about breathing, so all he needed was to add an elemental earth manipulation. He looked at the grave-digging spell first, but he couldn’t see any way to apply the technique it used to enable him to sink into the ground without disturbing it.

Eventually he did the smart thing and asked his wife for advice.

“Well, I never did what the Driven do because I didn’t have an air elemental and I would have suffocated, but with my earth elemental I was able to briefly pass through dirt and stone without affecting it,” she told him.

“But how?”

“It’s hard to describe. You just sort of flow through it. It’s almost like becoming a spirit, except you still have a physical body and you can still touch some things, like solid metal. The weird part is that you can’t take a breath, at all. The air just passes through you, just like dirt and stone.”

“So, you don’t actually move the soil around yourself?” he asked, utterly confused.

“No. It’s as though you attune yourself, or become a different substance, one that still has weight and mass, but can’t directly interact with most physical objects.”

“So, you’re out of phase?” An idea struck him then. “Are you actually entering the ethereal realm?”

She shook her head. “No. As far as I know, there’s no way for an elemental to assist someone in shifting into the ethereal plane. Plus, if you were ethereal, you could probably move through other people, solid metals, or liquids.”

“You can’t pass through water?”

“The moisture in soil isn’t a problem, but any amount of pure liquid, whether it’s oil, water, or whatever, could kill you. It’s like touching a cold flame. If it’s moving water, like a river, it would rip apart any portion of you that was put in it,” she warned.

Will frowned and shook his head as though that would make his brain function better. “That makes absolutely no sense to me.”

Selene shrugged. “I don’t have any better words to describe it.”

His next obvious course of action was talking to Arrogan, but again, the answers he got only led to more questions.

“I’ve never seen or heard of a spell that allows someone to move through earth the way she described,” said his grandfather. “Elementals were still fairly new in my day, so I’m not sure anyone had even tried doing that with an earth elemental yet either. However, I do know that some of the fae can do something similar using wild magic.”

That was promising and daunting at the same time. “I’ve got some capability with wild magic already.” He was referring mainly to his ability to alter the sensitivity of his eyesight, as well as to change the types of light he could perceive, though he had also learned to alter his other senses and even his speed and strength to a smaller degree.

Arrogan laughed. “Most third-order wizards do. You aren’t the first. We all pick up some tricks here and there, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to replicate what they do. That’s why we create spells, so we can do the things we don’t have a natural talent for.”

That shook him. “Wait, what? I thought spells were the heart of wizardry.”

“Knowledge is the heart of it, but even that doesn’t cover it fully. Maybe I should say skill, or more specifically, skill with magic,” explained Arrogan.

“Exactly, spells,” said Will.

“No, not just spells. The path you’ve set your feet upon has the most noble of goals, the mastery of magic, all magic. Spells are shortcuts we use for things we just can’t seem to master. Use a spell long enough and often enough and it becomes ingrained in your soul. At that point you no longer construct it, you simply will it to happen. It becomes more natural, like wild magic.”

“You seriously expect me to try to master all magic?”

“I do. You won’t succeed, but until you die you should continue to improve and expand your abilities. Don’t accept any limitations. That’s the first purpose of a wizard’s life.”

Will felt his forehead wrinkling as he thought about it. Worriedly, he asked, “What’s the second purpose?”

“Whatever you make it. Magic is a tool. Your talents will grow to follow your interests. Say you want to feed the world; you’ll find ways to help farmers. Maybe you want to rule the world; you’ll find ways to put yourself ahead politically. Your other purposes will change with time, but you’ll always find yourself coming back to the magic at the heart of it all, for that’s the tool that will make whatever purpose you are chasing possible.”

He gave his head a quick shake to remind himself of his original goal. “Back to the topic at hand. What do you think I should do next to figure out this spell?”

“Find someone who can do it with wild magic. If you have the right knack, maybe you can pick it up from their example, and if not, you may learn enough to create a spell.”

“So, ask Tailtiu then.” She had told him in the past that she didn’t have the ability to manipulate earth, but that she knew other fae that did.

“Just remember all the usual precautions,” said Arrogan. “But, I should ask, is there a reason you can’t use an ethereal spell to accomplish what you want? Usually that’s easier.”

Will took a minute to refresh his memory, which fortunately seemed to be improving. Arrogan had first told him about the ethereal plane when Will had begun inadvertently projecting his spirit into the astral plane. Unlike Muskeglun, Faerie, or the other more traditional planes of existence, the astral and ethereal planes were intrinsically a part of their world. There were no congruence points or places to cross. The astral plane was a purely mental plane that didn’t possess physical attributes. It touched every part of every other plane of existence. The closest thing it contained to places were areas that were being experienced by sentient minds. Hence, only the spirit could travel in the astral plane, and it could only go somewhere where the mind of someone you already knew was located.

The ethereal plane was the opposite. It was entirely physical, a plane that overlay the regular world like a poor copy. Supposedly one could travel to it and bypass obstacles in the normal world, such as a wall, and then travel back. Such was the way the traditional pass-wall spell worked, not that Will had learned it yet.

After a long silence, Will finished mulling it over and asked, “I haven’t worked with any ethereal spells yet, but if I used it to hide, wouldn’t it also be impossible for me to observe my enemies in the real world?”

“Yes and no,” said Arrogan.

“Which is it?”

“Ordinarily, no, but there are certain types of light that cross between the two planes. Most of the better ethereal spells include visual modifications to allow you to watch our world as though it was a ghostly, semi-transparent vision. Then again, since you already are able to monkey around with your sight, you might be able to manage it on your own with some experimentation. It’s still not very clear, but at least you could make out your surroundings on this plane.”

That brought another question to mind. “What about seeing the ethereal from here? I’ve already done a lot with my eyes, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen the ethereal plane.”

“Nothing to see really,” said Arrogan blandly. “I doubt you’d notice it ordinarily. It’s a barren, empty, almost lifeless place, and it tends to exactly match the major features of our world. You should be glad it’s so empty, otherwise you’d risk death anytime you crossed over.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you phase into the ethereal and there’s something in the place you’re standing, or vice versa, you wind up with two pieces of solid matter occupying the same space. That simply can’t happen. We don’t really understand why, but the result is a powerful explosion.”

“How big?”

“Depends on the things that are superimposed. As far as I know it’s only been observed a few times, and only when something was passing back into our world, since it wouldn’t be seen if it happened on the ethereal. Anyway, the stronger and denser the material involved, the more powerful the explosion.”

“If the ethereal plane is a close copy of this plane, how can it be used to pass through walls?”

“When I say it matches major features, I mean things that are very old. You won’t find trees there, or buildings. A building would probably have to be thousands of years old before it would be matched in the ethereal realm. Primarily it’s just the landscape—mountains, valleys, oceans, that sort of thing; almost everything else is too short lived to make an impression on the ethereal realm.”

“Did you say ‘almost lifeless’ a minute ago? What lives there?”

“Nothing in most places, but there are predators who can move themselves back and forth to seize prey from this world and drag it into the ethereal. The only ones I’ve heard of are giant, spider-like creatures, and they mostly live in areas near forests in our world,” explained the ring.

Will shuddered. Maybe talking to Tailtiu would be better, he told himself. He needed to see her anyway. It had been too long, and he was beginning to worry about whether she had truly recovered. He ended his conversation with the ring and leaned back in his chair. “Tailtiu, Tailtiu, Tailtiu…” As before, after the third repetition of his aunt’s name, he felt a connection followed by something completely new, a surge of emotion. Always before there had been nothing, except at certain times when he had felt a particular predatory interest. This time he was inundated by a crashing wave of emotions that swept over him, joy, sorrow, and then—nothing.

He had no idea if that meant she was coming or not, so he waited.

After a time, he resumed his studies, and later he went to bed as usual. It appeared she wouldn’t be coming. He fell asleep wondering what it all meant.

Chapter 16

Nothing happened over the next few days, other than the expected. Selene continued to suffer from crippling fatigue, though it appeared she might be close to being able to sleep through the night without losing control of her source and waking up. Then, one morning, a letter arrived addressed to him, a summons to the palace. Blake brought it in, and Will opened it after they had finished breakfast. He read over the contents then glanced at Selene. “Aren’t you curious?”

She looked up, dark circles framing her eyes. “Not particularly. It’s obvious anyway.”

“Really?”

“You have to go to the palace.”

“For what cause?” he asked.

She sighed. “Given the upcoming war and your role in it, I’d presume you have to meet the other notables who will be assisting you.”

Will cleared his throat indignantly. “Well, that’s a reasonable assumption, and ordinarily you’d be right, except that in this case…” He paused, then after a few seconds deflated. “Fine, you guessed it.” Inwardly, he was nervous. He had little experience with the nobles that would be present. “Will you come with me?”

Her eyes perked up for a second, then faded as her weariness returned. “I would, but you don’t really want me there.”

Nothing could be further from the truth. “Why not? You don’t feel well enough?”

Selene shook her head. “If I’m there, they won’t respect you. They’ll see you as a pretender hiding behind your royal wife’s skirts. They’ll defer to you in the moment but turn against you when I’m not there.”

He hadn’t considered it quite that way. “You think so?”

She nodded. “I’ve been through it myself, living in the shadow of my father. Over and over again I’ve been forced to prove myself when he wasn’t there before they treated me as anything other than window dressing. I don’t know if it will be as bad for you, but the same principle applies.”

Will puckered his lips in a sour expression. “You’re right, but I still wish it was otherwise. What do you advise then?”

“You should find out who else will be there and consult an expert to learn about them before you go.”

He smiled. “I happen to know such an expert.”

She gave him a sly look. “Is she pretty?”

“As beautiful as you,” he answered playfully.

“Should I be jealous?”

Leaning over, he gave her a quick kiss. “Probably not. So, who will be there?”

She began explaining, and he listened carefully. She was the one suffering from extreme fatigue, so he could do no less than give her his full attention. As expected, she had a breathtaking knowledge of the nobility of the realm and was able to make confident guesses about who would be present and what he should expect from them.

He stopped her at one point, confusion written on his face. “Did you say Count Spry?”

She nodded. “Bartholomew, a distant cousin of the one I nearly married. He inherited the estate and title since between us we killed both the father and the son. Not to worry, though, from what I’ve learned he disliked Reginald Spry almost as much as you did. In any case, he wouldn’t dare let any familial feelings interfere with his duty.”

Will couldn’t help but worry about that, but he trusted her judgment.

Two days later, he stepped out of his carriage at the palace. He was an hour early for the meeting, but he had taken Selene’s advice to heart. “Being fashionably late is only for parties; for political meetings, arriving early is key. Nobles gather and talk beforehand—alliances form and are broken before a meeting occurs,” she had told him.

Not that he really knew many of them. He was an outsider. It was unlikely he’d find friends before the meeting commenced. A footman directed him to a salon where a few others who had arrived early were relaxing while they waited. Will stepped into the wide, spacious room and scanned it quickly, wondering if he would recognize anyone there.

Along one eastern-facing wall were tall, eight-foot windows that allowed the morning sun to stream in, bathing the cushioned furniture and low tables in golden light. Two men were standing beside one of them, one fit and trim, the other large and rotund. The slimmer of the two spotted Will and immediately headed in his direction, a friendly smile on his face. “Your Grace! I see you’re early!”

It was the one face he expected to recognize, that of his father, Mark Nerrow. Hearing the man address him as a duke felt strange, but he had been forewarned to expect it. Will dipped his head slightly in recognition, then responded, “Baron Nerrow, I am glad to see a familiar face.”

Mark Nerrow’s gaze registered unspoken approval. “Of course. If you will allow, I’d like to introduce you to another of the king’s loyal servants, a man of indispensable talents.” He led Will to the window, where the other man had been quietly observing their greeting.

Before Mark could introduce them, Will smiled and said, “I’ve looked forward to meeting you. Lord Bradshaw, I presume?”

Viscount Bradshaw smiled genially in return, then extended his hand. “Your Grace does me too much honor. What gave away my identity?” The baron’s warm, brown eyes drifted down toward his large belly, then he winked. “Never mind. I suspect I know already.”

Selene had in fact mentioned the man’s proportions when describing him, but she had also noted that once Will got to know him, he would likely find that Martin Bradshaw’s belly was the least of his attributes.

Mark spoke up before Will could reply. “Martin is an absolute wonder when it comes to logistics. One wonders if our monarch would even consider this war without his able hand guiding the supply lines of Terabinia.”

“My wife spoke highly of His Excellency as well,” agreed Will.

“Please. Call me Martin if you would, Your Grace. At least until we are confined within the formality of the meeting to come.”

“Then you must call me Will,” he returned.

“You are too kind,” said Martin.

Will shook his head. “An army can’t fight on an empty stomach, so it behooves me to make friends with the man that’s filling my belly.”

The look on Mark Nerrow’s face was one of surprise, as though he wasn’t certain if Will had made a faux pas or not, but Martin’s eyes took on a look of interest. The rotund baron leaned in “You think of yourself as the army, William?”

“Well, part of it, at the very least.”

“That explains your attire, then. I was curious as to its meaning.”

Will had been unsure what to wear, and he wasn’t keen on the overly ornamented clothing that Selene had assured him that the other noblemen would be wearing. Instead he had chosen to wear something he had seen but never worn, the dress uniform of the Terabinian Army. As a private contract soldier, it was unlikely that he would have ever needed to own such a uniform, as they were meant for formal occasions that most soldiers never attended. Usually the uniform was worn by high-ranking army officers (who were generally also noblemen) when they were involved in military functions. In fact, most of the men present today would be wearing the same attire when the war began in earnest, when they weren’t armored for the field, that is.

What made his attire strange was that it was entirely bereft of brevets, braids, stripes, or insignia. He still officially only held the rank of a private contract soldier, even though he would be appointed as the Royal Marshal for the upcoming campaign. Will had donned the uniform in its simplest and lowest form, without embarrassment or self-doubt. “I’m still a soldier in the Terabinian army, Your Excellency,” he answered, meeting Martin’s gaze evenly. “Even at a gathering such as this, I am not embarrassed to be such. Indeed, my service until now is one of the few things I take great pride in.” After a moment, he twisted at the waist and stretched his arms out, then added, “Also, it's much more comfortable than the doublet my wife wanted to stuff me into.”

“There are some who might feel differently, William,” said Martin. “You’re aware of the message you may be sending?”

“I’m here to do a job, not to preen in front of others,” replied Will. “That’s also the reason I’m glad to make your acquaintance early, Martin.”

Mark leaned in. “The meeting hasn’t even started yet, William. We should keep the conversation light until then.”

Martin Bradshaw waved a hand dismissively in the direction of the baron. “Don’t fuss, Mark. I know you’re trying to help our young duke, but you needn’t worry. I like him already.” Then he stretched out his hand once more to Will, who quickly took it. The two men shook hands again. “I trusted Mark’s judgment before we met, but now I’m reassured. Just remember, for every friend you gain, you make another enemy as well. Once they know I support you, those who dislike me will likely find fault with you.”

Will shrugged. “I’d rather have capable friends and foolish foes than the reverse.”

Before Martin could reply, someone approached from behind and quietly cleared his throat. “Pardon the interruption, Your Grace.” Will turned and found a middle-aged man with a short, salt-and-pepper beard.

Mark Nerrow stepped in, putting a hand on the newcomer’s shoulder and addressing Will. “Allow me to introduce you, William. This is Baron Hargast, one of your…”

“…one of my vassals,” Will finished for him. “Raise your head, Lord Hargast. It is good to meet you.”

The lord kept his head down and then took a knee. “Please, Your Grace. Before the meeting, or other pleasantries, allow me to give you my oath.”

He’d been prepared for this, but it still caused Will’s cheeks to flush. He gave his permission, and Baron Hargast quickly ran through the oath of fealty. Mark Nerrow started to lean over and prompt him, but Will had already been coached on the subject. He gave his response, the reciprocal oath of protection and succor that outlined his duty as the baron’s liege lord. That done, he took Baron Hargast’s arm and urged the man to his feet, grateful it was over.

“I have been wanting to meet you for some time, Lord Hargast,” Will lied graciously. “As I’m sure you know, I’m rather new to all of this and I’ve had my hands full.”

“It seems we are all destined to a surplus of labor for the foreseeable future, Your Grace,” returned Hargast. “This war will take us far from home and keep us busy.” The four men chatted for the next half hour. Some of the others arrived, but they merely nodded as they were caught up in their own conversation. Last to arrive was Baron Lambel, a tall, lanky man on the younger side with thin, wispy blond hair that made for a rather sad beard. He hurried over and offered fealty as Hargast had.

And then a bell chimed, and a servant came and ushered them into the conference room for their meeting. A solidly built table with six chairs sat in the center of the room. A nobleman that Will hadn’t met yet stood at the opposite end of the room, beside the chair that sat at the head of the table, or the foot of it, depending on your perspective. Will was fairly certain which end Duke Lustral wanted it to be perceived as while he watched them enter.

“Gentlemen,” said Lustral, “Thank you all for coming.” He looked over the others with calm confidence as he motioned for everyone to take their seats, and his eyes lingered on Will for a moment, examining his plain uniform. “Duke Arenata, it is good to make your acquaintance.” A faint smile played over the man’s lips.

Lustral had carefully engineered the room and their entry to take control of the meeting, and if Will hadn’t been forewarned, he would have been completely at a loss for how to react. “It’s all right to get a little angry, if it keeps you from losing your confidence, but don’t let it show. If your emotions show, they’ll lose respect, and it will be difficult to take control,” Selene had warned him. She’d also given him specific pointers, one of which applied to the current situation.

All the other men had taken their seats, while Lustral stood by his chair at the end of the room. Given his past, Will felt a strong urge to immediately take a seat at the opposite end, but that would be a mistake. He moved to his chair then gestured to Duke Lustral. “Please, sit.” It was a command, couched as a polite phrase. The other man’s face flickered with uncertainty for a moment, then he sat down.

Triumphant, Will sat last, casting his gaze over the table. All eyes were now on him. Trying to affect a relaxed demeanor, he put one hand on the back of his chair and addressed them, “For many of you, this is the first time we’ve met, so I’m sure you have certain doubts about the situation we find ourselves in. Rest assured, I intend to take full advantage of your talents, wisdom, and experience.” Pulling his chair out, he sat down. “Let’s start with a summary of what resources we will have come spring.”

Gregory Nicht, who had formerly been a knight before Lognion had granted him the title and lands of the late Baron Fulstrom, coughed nervously. “We put together a summary two weeks ago for Duke Lustral…”

Will frowned but did his best to cover his surprise. His gaze drifted to the man at the opposite end of the table. “Lord Lustral, I haven’t seen this report yet. Please give everyone an oral summary to bring us up to date.”

“Of course,” answered Lustral, fingering his fading salt-and-pepper beard unconsciously. “I didn’t mean to exclude you. I asked for the summary to prepare for today’s meeting.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “That’s fine, but in future send a copy to me as well, or better still, consult with me first.” Will could feel sweat starting to gather at his temples despite the cool air, and he hoped he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.

Duke Lustral dipped his head in acknowledgement and then launched into a summary of the troops they expected to muster, though perhaps the word ‘summary’ was a misnomer. He droned on for some time, listing nearly a hundred small nobles and knights along with the number of their expected levies. Eventually he came to the end of that and then began a briefer explanation of the standing army’s forces and which lords would be organized into which divisions. Will did his best to absorb everything, but he knew he would need to refer to the written document for serious study later. Lustral finally came to the actual summary. “All told, Terabinia will be able to field an army of thirty-two thousand and four hundred men organized into six divisions. Sub-Marshal Nerrow will lead Divisions Five and Six, with Division Six being under the command of his assistant, Commander Lambel. Sub-Marshal Spry will lead Divisions Three and Four, with Division Four being under the command of his assistant, Commander Bradshaw. Sub-Marshal Nicht will lead Divisions One and Two, with Division Two being commanded by his assistant, Commander Hargast.”

That delineated the majority of the command structure, with Will as Royal Marshal and Lustral as Field Marshal being in overall command of the three sub-marshals and their commanders. Will was curious which division his friend Tiny and his cousin Eric were in, but he was almost certain that it must be either Division One or Division Two, since those were under Fulstrom’s command.

Viscount Bradshaw cleared his throat, causing Lustral to glance at him, annoyance apparent in his features. Will took note of the expression. Is Lustral one of those that doesn’t get along with Martin? If so, it meant that the viscount had a powerful enemy. Will nodded at the nobleman. “Go ahead, Lord Bradshaw.”

“While our numbers are impressive, I’m not certain we can support that number once we cross the mountains into Darrow,” advised the viscount.

The new Baron Fulstrom spoke next. “If we can feed them here then we obviously have the food. Why can’t we feed them there?”

Martin Bradshaw played with his moustache. “It’s a matter of supply lines. The farther from home we go, the more wagons, horses, and men we have to dedicate to transporting food and supplies. This is complicated by the fact that everything must travel along a single pass through the mountains, and once past that we have to deal with the limited number of bridge crossings over the River Tyrafel. Currently we don’t control enough wagons to support a deep foray into Darrow, at least not with that many men.”

Duke Lustral spoke up. “Once we cross the pass and take control of Klendon our numbers will be diminished, both because of losses and because we will have to maintain a defense of Klendon. The same river you mentioned will make defending our rear supply line easier.”

Martin shook his head. “Even if we lose a quarter of the men, which I don’t like to consider, we still wouldn’t have enough wagons.”

Will hid a smile, thankful once again that he’d married the smartest woman in the kingdom. “Lord Nerrow, your daughter is a key leader of the Mothers of Terabinia, is she not?”

His father looked at him with faint surprise. Curious, he answered, “She is. Why do you mention it?”

Will began to explain, “They’ve devoted a great deal of their resources to creating their own logistics network to move food and supplies to parts of Terabinia that were worst hit by the last invasion—”

Duke Lustral interrupted, “Not a bad idea. You think we should ask the king to seize their resources for the war effort?”

Will frowned. That hadn’t been his idea at all. “No, simply that we can coordinate with them. They will be moving food and supplies in the same direction. Our forces will require more early on, which they can help with. Later they can redirect more of their efforts to feeding the dispossessed.”

“There won’t be any dispossessed in Terabinia,” countered Lustral. “We are the invaders this time, not the reverse.”

“The Mothers of Terabinia don’t confine their charitable goals to just our borders,” Will replied.

Baron Hargast seemed shocked. “Do you intend to let them feed our enemy?”

“Women and children are not our enemy, Lord Hargast. In fact, the opposite is true. The purpose of this campaign is to reunite our two nations into one. We speak the same language and share much of our history. Assuming we succeed, the people you propose to starve will be the citizens of a larger Terabinia.”

“They won’t be citizens until they’ve tasted our boot leather for a few generations,” said Duke Lustral, disgust obvious in his tone. “They made their choice when they chose to follow their blasphemous prophet.”

“That was generations ago, Duke Lustral,” argued Will. “These people had no choice in what their ancestors did. Moreover, I have promised to give His Majesty a functional asset to increase the power and might of Terabinia, not a war-torn husk. We are not going to burn and pillage our way through Darrow, because every farm, every mill, every town and city, is going to become part of the wealth of our greater nation once this war is brought to a close.”

The duke’s cheeks were beginning to color. “I’m not sure you’re thinking clearly, Lord Arenata. I’m aware that you aren’t of gentle birth, but surely as a native of Barrowden you bear some justifiable animosity against the people who burned your village?”

A vision flashed through Will’s mind, his little cousin Doug, being kicked to death by soldiers while Barrowden burned. The memory still filled him with anger, but the lesson he had learned was not the one that Duke Lustral seemed to expect. He caught the duke’s eye as he replied, “Have you ever seen a child kicked to death by soldiers, Lord Lustral?” When the other man didn’t reply, Will continued, “I have. I also saw my aunt dragged from her house and stabbed to death. I’m still furious about it, but the men that did it are dead now. What I won’t do, is repeat their mistakes by visiting the same kind of misery and suffering on the innocent citizens of another nation.”

“No one is advocating for the murder of children—” Lustral started to protest.

But Will cut him off, “No one ever advocates for it. But men easily become beasts in time of war. Whether it’s because of the cruelty we all hide in our hearts, or a reaction to the fear and adrenaline that comes in battle, I don’t know. What I do know is that we must guard our actions carefully to avoid becoming the very thing we hate. Discipline and communication are key. Our soldiers will know what we expect of them, and they’ll also know the consequences for such behavior.”

The duke’s eyes narrowed to angry slits. “You intend to destroy morale by starting this war with warnings of what punishments will be meted out to men who fight too enthusiastically? Don’t be naïve. Certain things, while distasteful, are a necessary evil.”

“I was a soldier, Duke Lustral. I’ve stood shoulder-to-shoulder in a shield wall and felt the icy chill of fear as a thousand men came at us with their spears pointed at our hearts. What kept us in that wall weren’t thoughts of vengeance. Morale is built upon the trust of the men on either side of you, and that trust comes from training and discipline. Rewarding your soldiers by allowing them to rape and pillage doesn’t breed discipline, it degrades it.”

“You’re wrong,” said Lustral, grinding his teeth.

“You’re welcome to your opinion, Your Grace, but I’m the one that’s been put in charge of this campaign. Until such time as that changes, I expect everyone here to make sure their soldiers maintain proper discipline. I will outline exactly what that entails at our next meeting. Just remember this. We lead by example. Whether you agree with me or not, I expect you to make the men believe you do. I will hold not only the soldiers, but those in charge of them responsible for any barbarity. Depending on the circumstances, that could go all the way up to those of you in this room with me. Am I understood?”

“You don’t have the right!” spouted Lustral, outraged at the threat.

Will kept his face calm, or at least he hoped he did. “Here at home? No, I don’t. But from the moment you put your uniform on and we go marching to war, you will fall under my authority. Not only will I hold my officers to the same standard as our soldiers, I will hold you to a higher standard. As you pointed out earlier, I’m a peasant by birth. I don’t give a damn about conventions, etiquette, or titles. Cross me at your own risk, because I will have justice on any man who disobeys me, and consequences be damned! I never asked for this title. If the king decides I’ve overstepped my bounds and strips me of it after the war is done, I won’t complain, but don’t think your rank or station will prevent me from exercising my authority until that time comes.”

The room fell silent, and Lustral stared at him as though he’d grown a second head. After several seconds, Will spoke again. “I asked a question a moment ago. Am I understood?” The lords sitting around the table answered with a quick chorus of ‘yes sirs.’

Chapter 17

Two hours later, Will was walking home by himself, following the short road between the palace and the college. His father had tried to talk to him after the meeting, to warn him about the enemy he had made, but Will was too nervous to listen. It was all he could do to escape before the exhaustion that comes after too much adrenaline caught up with him. His legs felt shaky as he followed the familiar route home.

As he reviewed what had happened, it was hard not to doubt himself. He’d made a few allies and at least one dangerous enemy. Overall, he’d followed Selene’s advice, but he wasn’t sure that he hadn’t gone overboard in how he phrased things. She’d had a lifetime training in the art of diplomacy. He’d also been caught off-guard by the strength of his emotions when Lustral had mentioned the destruction of Barrowden.

Did I go too far? he wondered, but just then a strange feeling swept over him, as though he was being watched. Will lifted his gaze from the path and looked around. There was no one nearby, but something drew his eye to the trees to the right of the lane. A large owl sat on the limbs of a graceful elm, watching him with viridian eyes.

He’d seen the owl before, when Tailtiu had shape-changed into one, one with the same green eyes. Stopping dead in his tracks, he stared back for half a minute and then his lips muttered, “Tailtiu.” As soon as the name left his lips, he felt the connection. There was no doubt, it was her.

With a flash of wings, the owl lifted off and vanished through the trees, and within seconds he had lost sight of it.

He stared after her for several seconds. What was that about? he thought silently. She came to spy on me, but she won’t answer my call? No matter how long he considered it, it didn’t make sense. Unable to do anything else, he finished walking home, where he found Selene waiting for him.

He entered the house without a word, though she was standing just inside the door. From the side of one eye, he could see her watching him intently as he patiently scraped his boots before removing them. Although her outward expression was one of calm composure, he knew Selene was anxious to hear how the meeting had gone. Feeling contrary, he innocently asked, “Do you feel like some tea?”

“You’re tempting fate, you irksome man,” she growled quietly.

Will smirked. “You seem tense.”

“Spill it! How did it go?”

“I really would like some tea,” said Will, turning toward the kitchen door.

“Jeremy! Tea!” barked Selene, her voice carrying clearly through the reaches of the house.

Will silently envied her ability to make herself heard so easily. Because of the lower register of his voice, he had to yell twice as loudly to be understood, but her clear tones were intelligible from anywhere within their home. With a sigh, he told her, “You really take the joy out of things. I rather like making tea…”

She took him by the arm and led him toward the parlor. “Jeremy can get it. I want to hear everything that happened.”

Somehow, her anxiety dispelled the remnants of his own. What was done was done. Will carefully related what had happened, beginning with the conversations beforehand and leading up to his confrontation with Duke Lustral. Selene merely nodded at that point without commenting, which surprised him. She waited until he had summarized the more mundane matters of planning and logistics that had occupied the end of the meeting.

“That went relatively well,” she remarked at last.

His brows went up. “That’s it? You have nothing to say about my argument with Lustral?”

She shrugged. “You made a powerful enemy, but that was expected. I already knew the two of you would never be friends. Putting him in his place early on was the best outcome we could expect.”

You could have warned me then, he thought dourly. “They seemed surprised at the suggestion of getting the Mothers of Terabinia to assist with logistics. I was tempted to tell them you and Laina had already agreed to it.”

Selene shook her head. “It’s better this way. Your next meeting is a week away. That will give them time to realize the advantage and appreciate the idea better. Plus, this way it won’t seem like something I suggested. Instead, it was your idea and you convinced me to cooperate.”

“You really are sneaky.”

She sniffed. “I prefer cunning. Besides, at this point you need every advantage to persuade them to follow you.”

“They sort of have to,” observed Will.

“On the surface, yes,” she replied, “but if you don’t dispel their doubts, they could cause you all kinds of trouble with minor acts of defiance.”

“Well, good or bad, I think I made an impression. I stayed out of the way while some of the planning was brought up for discussion, other than to explain my idea for the magical support troops.”

She nodded. “It isn’t that unusual an idea, and while you may be completely new to leadership you’ve got more magical combat experience than any living sorcerer in Terabinia. Add that to the fact that you’ve actually stood in the line during a war and there’s no one more qualified to train the sorcerers for the upcoming campaign.”

Will’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

She smiled. “It’s the simple truth, even though I might be a little biased. When will you meet with them?”

“Wednesday,” he answered. “I’ve got some ideas, but I need a sounding board to make sure I’m not crazy.”

“I’m all ears.”

They discussed plans and ideas for the two hundred student sorcerers who would be accompanying the army until late into the afternoon, when Blake finally interrupted them with the news that dinner was ready.

***

A few days later Will found himself standing in front of two hundred of his fellow students. Once again, Selene had declined to join him, citing her belief that she would once again undermine his authority, but today he did have at least one old friend there to back him up. Janice Edelman stood beside him, looking uncomfortable to be standing in front of such a large crowd.

The students that were gathered were the same two hundred who had been given elementals by the king when the city had been dealing with a plague of vampires. None of them were strangers, as they had helped assist with the ritual that had saved the city. He knew a few of them by name, and many of them had faces that were familiar.

Of course, all of them knew him on sight, though whether that was because of fame or infamy was debatable.

They were gathered near the relatively new range that Will and a few others used to practice their aim with combat spells. A few feet to the right of Janice was a long, wooden table which held ponderous stacks of leather-bound travel journals. Unlike the more ordinary journals sold by the school, these had large flaps that folded over the edges before being tied shut by heavy thongs. The design was meant to protect the interior in the event of rain or other inclement weather.

He’d already given a short introductory speech, followed by instructions for them to move up and each take a copy from the table. One student, whose name he failed to recall, paused and looked inside before asking, “Are they supposed to be blank?”

Will nodded. “You’ll be filling the pages.” It took a while for the line to finish, and eventually everyone returned to their places in front of him. “Someone has already remarked on it, but you’ll notice the pages are blank.” He tried to project his voice, but he could tell that some were frowning as they failed to make out his words. I should have looked up a spell for sound projection, he chided himself.

“We can’t hear you,” someone said.

Nervous and feeling impatient, Will spoke again, and without thinking he manipulated the turyn in the air in front of him. His voice boomed out, strong and clear. “As some have noticed, the journals are empty. This was deliberate, as I had no desire to copy out the spells—I want you to learn. You will do that for yourselves.” Janice’s head jerked, and she gave him an odd look.

He met her questioning eyes and shrugged. I have no idea what I did, he thought silently. It was obviously wild magic of some type, but he hadn’t planned it. Hurriedly, he continued, “There are several copies of a single spell on the table where you picked up the journals. I’d like some of you to retrieve them and copy them into your journal. Once you’ve done so, pass them along and also share your journal. I’d like everyone here to have the spell in your journal before our next meeting. I’d also like everyone to memorize the spell. The journals are for your reference, but when we leave with the army you will have a selection of spells written within. By that time, I intend for each of you to know all of them by heart.”

His voice projection continued to work flawlessly. It had almost faltered for a moment as he paid conscious attention to what he was doing, but the process was so natural that he recovered quickly. A long groan rose from the crowd, the sound common to students who have just been given an assignment. Will smiled to himself.

“The spell you’ll be learning today is a simple force-wall, something many of you have probably learned before, though you may not have memorized it.”

A young man off to the right lifted his hand. The gesture was a stark reminder to Will that these were students, rather than soldiers, although the distinction would soon be academic. He pointed at the fellow, indicating he should speak. “Then why ask us to copy it out? Shouldn’t we be learning battle spells?”

Will nodded in acknowledgment of the question. “A valid point. You will be learning battle spells. But I am starting everyone on the spells that I think will be most important for us in this war. In order to function as a cohesive force, it’s crucial that I know not only your rough abilities, but also exactly what spells you know. The force-wall spell you’re learning today will be identical to the one that everyone else here is learning. If I have to call out for you to use it while in formation, I’ll know exactly what to expect. That wouldn’t be possible if everyone were using a hodgepodge of different spells.”

“Won’t attack spells be the most important thing to learn?”

He didn’t see who had asked the question, but he’d planned ahead for it. Lifting one hand, he released a spell he’d prepared in advance and launched a massive fireball at the throng. People screamed, some dove for the ground, others tried to run, but for the most part they tripped over one another. A few managed to react constructively, erecting defensive barriers around themselves with the element controlled by their elemental, though that was only possible for the minority who had non-fire elementals. Even so, even among those with the option, most failed to defend themselves effectively. Crimson flames washed over them harmlessly, and after a few seconds people began to swear and curse as they realized the fire hadn’t burned them.

The spell he had used was a personal variation on the classic fireball spell. Of course, no one had bothered to learn the spell in ages, since anyone with a fire elemental didn’t require it, and modern wizards couldn’t afford to waste their lifespan on combat spells. These days he had free reign of the restricted section at the college library, so he hadn’t even needed to sneak around to learn it. He’d adapted the spell to use the same harmless flames employed by his demon-armor spell. As the flames faded, he made a quick note of those who hadn’t been touched by the special turyn infused within the flames.

Will had to project himself once again to be heard over the complaints. “That was just an example, but I’ll give you another to make things clear. First, though…” He began pointing at individuals who had managed to defend themselves. “You, you, you, you, you, and you—step forward and give Janice your names. I’m going to have you meet me at another time for special instruction.” When one of them grinned, he continued, “Don’t consider yourself too lucky. You’ll be expected to teach the others anything I show you. From this point forward, you’ll be class role models.”

A chorus of groans went up. Janice moved forward to meet them and began writing their names down, but as soon as the crowd seemed to have relaxed, Will sent another fireball in their direction. This time Janice lifted one hand and released the spell she had kept prepared for just that moment. A wide force-wall sprang up, interrupting the path of the flaming sphere and causing it to splash off to the sides. Janice met Will’s eyes and winked conspiratorially.

“That was a simple demonstration, but I think everyone here gets the point,” Will said loudly. “Once you’ve copied the spell, I expect each and every one of you to keep it prepared from this day forward.”

A young woman on the left raised her hand, and when he pointed at her she asked, “For how long?”

“Until the war is over, or I order otherwise.”

Someone else in the back shouted a follow-up, “What about those of us who can’t keep a spell prepared yet?”

“Then you’ll be practicing until you can. That brings me to another question,” he announced. “How many of you can keep two spells prepared while still being able to construct and use other spells?” Out of the two hundred only seven raised their hands. “Step forward and give Janice your names. You’ll be joining the special practice group and helping others with their training.”

One of those had already given Janice his name, as he’d also successfully defended himself with an earthen shield. He was a short, curly-haired young man with dark hair and dark eyes. Will pointed to him. “What’s your name?”

The object of his interest looked as though he wanted to disappear into the ground as his cheeks flushed. “I—I already gave it to her,” stammered the student.

“And I’m asking you what it is for personal reference.”

“Burk Leighton, sir, but everyone calls me Bug.” A smattering of laughter rose from the gathered students.

Will’s eyes narrowed. “What do you prefer?”

“It’s all right, sir. I prefer Bug. My grandfather gave me the nickname.”

“Bug it is, then,” said Will. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, he thought to himself. He was going to need as much talent as he could find when spring came. Will raised his voice once more. “That’s all for today. I’ll expect everyone to have the spell memorized and prepared for our next session. Before you leave, look at the last page of the journal you have. You’ll find a time and date listed there, which indicates when you’re expected at Byron Waters’ armory. Each of you will be measured and fitted for your gear.”

“Gear?” someone asked from the back.

Will nodded. “Helm, gambeson, mail shirt, shield, and falchion. You’ll be equipped and armored similarly to the private contract soldiers, although only some of them can afford mail.”

Some of the students seemed excited at the prospect while others blanched at the news. One of the unhappier ones raised her hand and asked a question. “Armor is hot and heavy, not to mention some of us aren’t as brawny as others. Why do we need it? We won’t be near the fighting lines.”

His eyes were unforgiving as he answered the question, “On the contrary, each of you will be assigned to a company. You’ll be eating, sleeping, and marching with whichever company you’re assigned to. Not coincidentally, you’ll also be with them when they join battle. A force-wall spell won’t do them any good if you’re standing several hundred yards away.”

The response was mixed. Some gasped, and others looked even more excited. One well-dressed man who was obviously from a noble family asked, “If we already have armor can we use that instead?”

“Mail, yes, gambesons, maybe, so long as they are plain and unadorned. I’ll allow a breastplate if you have one, but if it’s lacquered or ornamented it won’t be suitable. Essentially, I don’t want any of you to stand out beyond what a sergeant might be wearing, otherwise you’ll make a prime target. Part of the reason for armoring you is to make you blend in, as well as protecting you from stray arrows.”

“Why the swords? Won’t they be a waste?”

Will didn’t see who asked that, but he’d been expecting something along those lines. “Unless you can reflex cast, there may be moments when you don’t have any better option. Don’t worry, though. The local reserves will be coming to meet us next week, along with several training officers. In addition to the spells and special training I’ll be giving you, you will also be drilled in marching, standard formations, basic sword techniques, and how to set up and break down tents.”

The same fellow who’d asked about bringing his own armor seemed offended. “Aren’t we joining as officers? We won’t be doing that sort of drudge work.”

Will moved forward, causing the crowd to part as he approached the fellow who had spoken. When he was a few feet away, he studied the young man critically. He was red-haired and heavily built. His clothes indicated wealth, but the callouses on his hands and the tanned freckled skin of his neck and forearms showed a propensity for outdoor training. So he likes to train but he fancies himself as being above the common soldiers. “What’s your name?”

The young noble straightened up as he answered, “Emory Tallowen, Your Grace.”

“From now until this is over, address me simply as ‘sir.’ You will be doing all the things I just listed, Mister Tallowen. Although each of you will be provisionally entered into the rolls as lieutenants, you will have very little authority. Do not expect any special treatment and don’t think you can order the sergeants and corporals to do anything. Most particularly, I will be paying close attention to whether any of you attempt to use your limited authority to get out of ordinary chores. You will be setting up camp, digging latrines, and all the rest of it.”

Tallowen’s face turned red. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Does your family have any other sons?”

“What?”

Will smiled maliciously. “I’m just wondering in case you decide to take your pompous outrage any further. The weregild for the oldest, or heaven forbid, an only son, is significantly more—not that I’m unwilling to pay whatever it might be.”

The young noble’s mouth fell open in shock. Will waited a few seconds, then continued, “If you want respect or privileges, you’ll have to earn them. Otherwise, I expect you to keep your mouth shut and your complaints to yourself.” He took two steps back and raised his voice once more, projecting loudly across the field. “Dismissed!”

Chapter 18

Will had difficulty focusing on his classes, as his thoughts were continually occupied now. The military planning sessions were partly responsible for that, but his role there was less involved. He didn’t have experience with the levers of power, or the practical matters involved with organizing and provisioning an army. Truth be known, he wasn’t much behind the other lords, for it was Martin Bradshaw who truly shined when it came to organizing the food, livestock, supplies, manpower—everything required to make it possible for an army to function. The man was a miracle.

The other lords contented themselves with planning their route and coming up with a rough timeline. Other than that, there wasn’t much that could be done. Will listened and intervened when it was necessary to make a choice and the others couldn’t agree. Other than that, he simply did his best to educate himself regarding every decision made. He paid particular attention to Martin—the man knew how to organize.

What truly kept his mind busy was training the two hundred student sorcerers. Each week he introduced a new spell to add to their journal. Most of the spells were rather basic, and given the years of study they’d had, a portion of the students already knew some of them, but the point was standardization. If I’m going to give orders to them, I need to know for certain that they can use the spells and exactly what they can do, he told himself. He consulted Arrogan frequently, and the old man agreed with him on that front. The spirit of his teacher also made numerous recommendations, both about the spells chosen, as well as the training they focused on.

A few months wouldn’t be enough to get any of them to the point of reflex casting, and if it did, it would only be with a single spell. “The point-defense shield would be great, but it isn’t nearly as useful for an army,” the ring had cautioned. “A force-wall, or a long-range attack spell would be better, but again, you don’t really have enough time to hope they’ll manage to reflex cast those either.”

“Then what should they spend their time on?” Will had asked, feeling somewhat frustrated.

“You’ve already started them on it. Have them focus on increasing the number of spells they can keep prepared in advance.”

“Half of them can’t even manage one, and only a handful can manage two,” Will informed his grandfather despairingly.

The ring grunted, then went on, “That’s not too bad—these days. In the time you have, you can reasonably expect to get most of them to two, and a few of them will probably surprise you and manage three. In any case, focus on defensive and utility spells. They have elementals, after all. With those, all manner of attack and defense options become possible with little training required.” The old man’s voice held a faint tone of disgust, one which Will had gradually come to agree with. “The most important thing is that they memorize the spells you give them. That way, no matter what happens, they can always produce the spell needed, even if it takes a minute. Blasting the enemy with rocks, fire, or wind—that’s one thing—but when you need them to provide a defensive wall, or produce rapid earthworks, that’s another entirely.”

Will nodded. “I added the grave-digging spell to their list.” Then something else occurred to him. Something he had forgotten in the midst of all the stress and preparations. “By the way, something weird happened during the first meeting I had with them a few weeks ago.”

“The fact that more people don’t fall down laughing the minute they see your face is a daily miracle. I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” said Arrogan drolly.

Will passed over the remark; it was part and parcel with any conversation with his grandfather. “I was having trouble making myself heard, and I managed to project myself without using a spell,” he announced.

“Wild magic, eh?”

“Yeah. I just did it without thinking.”

“You’ve used wild magic before.”

He tried to organize his thoughts. “This was different. The first times involved healing, and it was deliberate. Then the stuff with my senses, Tailtiu taught me that. It wasn’t accidental. I had to make an effort. This just happened.”

“Like passing gas?”

Will snorted involuntarily. “I suppose you could say that. I knew what I needed, and it just sort of happened without me intending to do it.”

“Remember our conversation a while back?” asked Arrogan. “About the differences between a third-order wizard and first or second?”

“When you were talking about shifting turyn currents to deflect attacks?”

“Mmhmm,” affirmed the old man.

“Are you saying I’m going to shout down enemy spells?”

There was a moment of silence in which Will could almost see his grandfather’s disembodied self face-palming. “No, you witless yob!” erupted the ring at last. “I’m just saying this is something similar, a side-effect of your increasing turyn control. You’re starting to find your natural affinities.”

“Affinities.” Will turned the word over in his mind a few times while he waited for Arrogan to explain.

“As a wizard, spells are your bread and butter. But as a third-order wizard, you are just beginning to grow into your mastery of turyn. Wild magic is often unpredictable—for ordinary magic users, but for you that doesn’t have to be the case. You’ve managed to learn some through discipline and effort, but now you’ll find that there are probably some things that come to you instinctively. There never were that many third-order wizards at any given time, but they all had their peculiar gifts. Obviously, shouting your idiocy out for all the world to hear and marvel at is one of yours.”

Will grinned at the insult, but he asked a question instead of complaining. “What was your gift?”

“What makes you think there was only one?” challenged Arrogan.

“Besides insulting people and pointing out their deficiencies,” he clarified.

“I’m glad you noticed,” said Arrogan, laughing. “Over the years I developed quite a few. They crop up over time, as you mature and your mind changes. No one really understands why some people have one or gift or another, but they somehow relate to the peculiarities of the human mind. For myself, the most interesting talent I developed involved growing plants—oh, and body enhancements.”

Plants? Will hadn’t expected that, but then he remembered the old man’s obsessive penchant for gardening. He wanted to ask more, but he had to know something else first. “Body enhancements? You mean like the way I can increase my stamina, speed, or strength?”

“You’re a novice,” said the old man. “You’ve learned to do a bit, and that’s probably all you’ll manage unless you’re lucky or you develop the same talent.”

That got his back up. “I can run for a long time!”

“Please! I died, but my body didn’t quit until I gave it permission!”

Will remembered all the training sessions, trying to keep up with his grandfather’s speed and dexterity. “That’s why I couldn’t keep up with you…”

“And you likely never would have,” agreed the old man. “You’ll probably get a lot better at it, especially with practice, but I had a true knack for it.”

“So, what does this mean for me, exactly?”

“That you’ll never need to worry about learning spells for projecting your voice. Save your time and energy learning spells for things you can’t do naturally.”

Will felt somewhat disappointed. “That’s it?”

“Not necessarily,” said Arrogan. “That might be it, until you find some other odd and unrelated talent unexpectedly. Then again, this might just be the first sign of some greater talent. Only time will tell. These things are unpredictable. Best to spend your limited time working on things you can control, like spells to shore up your weaknesses.”

“If it is a larger talent, how do I figure it out?” asked Will.

“You don’t. Thinking is of limited usefulness when it comes to wild magic. For example, when you learned to adjust your vision—Tailtiu’s description helped you figure it out, but if you hadn’t had some kind of affinity for it, you probably never would have managed to learn it. With this, you rely on your feelings and intuition more than straightforward reason. It’s a lot like the way elementals use turyn, to be honest. In fact, wild magic talents were part of what inspired the original design of elementals.”

“Really?”

“Most certainly. A few really talented wizards had gifts with various elements that were the envy of their peers. When Valemon got the idea to use enslaved souls to reproduce specific types of wild magic talents, elemental ones were an obvious choice.”

That took the wind out of his sails. “Having an elemental talent like that sounds a lot better than this.”

“Bah, like I’ve said before, you work with what you’ve got. What talents you have aren’t the important thing. It’s what you do with them. Preparation is everything. You don’t control what talents you get, but you can learn spells to do almost anything. Besides, elemental gifts aren’t necessarily the best thing you could have had. There was once a wizard named Leithon who had a special knack for illusions. He could hardly carry on a conversation, and he had the personality of a loaf of bread, but his illusions were so realistic they could fool anyone, even other wizards. Not to mention he could produce virtually anything at a moment’s notice. Think of what you could do with something like that? It’s way more useful than being able to move dirt around, or burn people alive.”

“Anything would be better than just being able to shout at people,” said Will glumly.

“Maybe,” said Arrogan, a cryptic tone in his voice.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Time will tell.”

“What?”

The ring pretended to yawn. “I’m feeling tired. Why don’t we stop for now so I can have a nap?”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t get tired, nor do you sleep.”

Arrogan refused to reply, so after a moment Will gave in and dismissed the limnthal before returning to the spell list he was curating for his sorcerer-soldiers. Force-wall, light-darts, grave-digging, darkvision, blur…

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door of his study. Will rose and opened the door, wondering why Selene or Blake would have bothered knocking. He was stunned to see his grandmother, Aislinn, standing in the hallway.

Once again, she’d entered his home without alerting a single person. As usual, Will found the thought that she could come and go at will very disconcerting. After a second of surprise, he got himself under control and gestured toward the second chair in his study. “Please come in.”

The fae woman was a legacy of Arrogan’s past and was only Will’s grandmother in the vaguest of senses. She was also known to many as the Goddess of Magic, although in fact she was just an extremely talented wizardess who had been forced into immortality. Will still wasn’t sure whether she wanted to help him or kill him—all signs pointed to both. Either way, she was not a person to piss off without good cause.

“No need,” she responded brusquely. “I’ll be brief. Stop calling my daughter.”

Her daughter was Tailtiu, but the relationship between the two was nothing like what one would expect between a human mother and daughter. With the fae, everything revolved around favors and debt—little else mattered. Consequently, Will’s response was one that he’d have never made to a human mother. “She still owes me two unbound favors.”

“She still hasn’t recovered fully.”

He frowned. Tailtiu had been captured by vampires, then tortured and bled beyond mortal endurance, until Will had rescued her. In fact, if she’d been human, she probably would have considered herself in his debt for that alone, but being fae, it didn’t count since he had helped her without being asked. Being fae, it didn’t make sense that she hadn’t recovered. Inhuman and immortal, the fae were nearly unkillable, but more importantly, they were unchanging. Emotional trauma simply wasn’t an issue for them.

“I saw her recently. She seemed fine,” he countered.

Aislinn grimaced faintly. “She escaped that day. I’ve taken stronger measures to ensure she won’t wander off again.”

Will lifted one brow in surprise. “You’re keeping her prisoner?”

“That would be the normal interpretation of the words I just said.”

“If you’re keeping her from repaying her favor then you become responsible for her debt,” Will remarked, his voice even.

“Is your need so pressing? Have you no concern for her health?”

He felt his anger rising. Once again, Aislinn was trying to play upon his all too human emotions, when neither she nor her daughter had them. “I’m more concerned that you’re keeping her confined.”

“It is well within my rights.”

“Don’t pretend to motherly concern,” he replied angrily.

His grandmother’s eyes were like ice. “She owes me a considerable debt. I may do with her as I please. Until I decide she is herself, again she will remain in my custody.”

“Then you must repay her debt to me.”

“Very well. What is it you need?” Aislinn’s tone was one of bored impatience.

“I need you to release Tailtiu.”

“You can’t use one of her favors to have me release her,” said Aislinn angrily.

He held up two fingers. “She owes me two unbound favors. For just one, I could ask for your life. What seems more unreasonable? Releasing her, or putting an end to everything?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would. In fact, those terms were too kind. Instead I’ll ask for her debt to you, in exchange for canceling the two favors she currently owes me, that and I’ll let you continue breathing.”

“Or I could simply allow her to answer your call and let you see how foolish you’re being,” said Aislinn, a strange light in her eyes.

Will nodded, a triumphant smile slowly forming on his lips.

His grandmother began to laugh. “As if I would be so kind. No, I won’t release her. Instead I’ll take your foolish offer. Cancel my daughter’s debt to you, and I will give you the debt she owes me in its stead. After that, she will be all yours and I will have no say in matters that concern her from henceforth. Deal?” She licked her lips and leaned forward slightly, a predatory eagerness showing on her hauntingly beautiful features.

Will felt an uncomfortable mixture of fear and desire suffuse him, partly from his body’s treacherous reaction and partly from the knowledge that somehow, despite everything, he had been outmaneuvered again. He didn’t know how or why, but Aislinn never came out on the bad end of a bargain. He knew he should back out quickly, but an image flashed in his mind, a vision of Tailtiu’s eyes when he had finally gotten her free of the vampires.

Fuck me, he thought angrily. He couldn’t leave her captive to Aislinn’s bizarre version of motherhood. “Deal.”

Aislinn leaned back, grinning at some hidden joke. “Very well. Will tomorrow be soon enough? I’m sure you’d like her cleaned up before I release her.”

Cleaned up? What the hell had she been doing to her daughter?

Chapter 19

The next day was a big one for Will. He had his entire group of student sorcerers gathered for an exercise. They’d been learning to march and drill as though they were normal soldiers over the past two weeks, and today, they were to take turns pretending to be regular soldiers, magical support, or magical attackers.

Although all of them had elementals, Wil had decided against letting them be used during exercises due to the lethal potential. Since he wouldn’t allow them for attacking, it didn’t seem fair to allow them for defense either. Instead, the magical support and the magical attackers would rely on fire spells that substituted anti-demon flames. They performed identically to the ordinary fire versions, with the exception of being harmless, so they were perfect for drills. The defenders would be using primarily force spells for defense, along with their own fire spells to return fire.

Since they didn’t have enough participants to provide a group of ordinary enemies, the students who played regular soldiers didn’t have much to do. They mainly served as a pretend shield wall until they were eliminated by the enemy spellcasters. On the next round, everyone would change places so they could all get some practice in.

“Hold!” Will’s voice echoed loudly across the field. Despite his former complaints, he was finding his special talent particularly useful for training. Striding toward the line of defenders, he pointed to Emory Tallowen. “What was that?”

The young nobleman stiffened, the pride on his face replaced with mild confusion. “Excellence?”

Will rolled his eyes. “Look around you. Almost all the soldiers in your line were burned to death.” The students pretending to be soldiers had all fallen to the ground to indicate they had been struck by enemy fireballs.

Emory grinned. “But I took out five of the enemy casters! The enemy has been neutered!”

He wanted to pull out his hair. “And that means exactly jack if your army is massacred while you do it.”

“The meat shields served their purpose.”

Will came withing inches of losing his reserve and striking the young man. “I used to be one of the men who stood in such a line,” he growled. “And now that they’re dead, what do you think is happening?” He mimed the motion of a spearman. “While you were ignoring the defense, your shield wall was incinerated. Now the enemy spearmen are busy turning you into a colander.”

Emory’s mouth clamped shut and his cheeks began to redden, but he didn’t reply. Will was tempted to berate him further, but the man was actually one of his better students. He wanted him to learn, and humiliation would only make the young nobleman more stubborn. Instead, he called out to Burke Leighton. The humbler student had turned out to be just as promising as Will suspected. “Come here, Bug!” When the short man got closer, Will asked, “How many of your section are still alive?”

“All but one,” said Bug with mild embarrassment. “I wasn’t quite quick enough.”

It was better than anyone else did, though, thought Will. “You did well. Why did you set your shield as far forward as you did? The extra five feet would cost you more turyn.”

“I was testing an idea,” answered Bug.

“Explain.”

“Even though we don’t have an enemy line to face off against, I was imagining what it would be like if we did. It occurred to me that if there was an opposing shield wall, I could pull their teeth if I put my defensive shield between their shield men and their second rank where the long spears are. If I have to use a spell to stop an attack, why not also use the opportunity to give our soldiers an advantage for a short while?”

Will nodded approvingly. It wasn’t something that had occurred to him, but it made perfect sense. “Make sure you share that with the others. Everyone needs to learn that force-walls aren’t just a defense, but a means of controlling the battlefield.” He glanced at Emory and noticed that the nobleman seemed to be paying close attention.

Bug nodded, then asked a question of Emory. “Can you show me the spell you used? It looked as though you modified it.”

Emory nodded. “I got the idea from the light-darts spell we learned. Even if it’s just practice, it made sense to me that we could adapt the multiple-missile functionality to our practice spells.”

The rest of the day was exhausting, but Will could see that his fellow students were making headway. Not only were they learning the basics of army formations, they were beginning to think about their roles in the matter. More than once, Will found himself surprised when someone came up with an idea that had completely missed him.

That evening Will was tired as he walked home, his mind occupied with thoughts of Selene. She had finished adapting to the third compression weeks ago, but even though he had finally been able to remove the source-cage, she was still unable to use spells. Well, that wasn’t exactly correct. Every time she attempted a spell, she grew so weak that it took hours for her to recover. Her body was converting enough ambient turyn to keep her functioning normally, but it wasn’t able to pull in extra when she needed it. Naturally, that worried him, but Arrogan had told him that it wasn’t entirely abnormal, though he couldn’t say how long it would last.

“William.”

He stopped, surprised by the female voice that called out to him. Turning to his left, he saw her standing beside a tree near the path. For a moment he thought she was a stranger; despite the familiar red hair and green eyes, Tailtiu’s demeanor was entirely different. Ordinarily she exuded an almost overwhelming predatory sexuality, and even though she didn’t look much different, its absence made her almost unrecognizable. “Tailtiu?” he asked uncertainly, studying her for a moment.

The faint smile that crept across her face was uncharacteristically timid. “I’m not really sure anymore.” Her face was the same, and there was no sign of scars or other physical changes. He squinted at her dress for a moment, trying to focus on the skin that lay behind the illusion of clothing that she had adopted to avoid notice within the city. Seeing his stare, she dismissed the illusion, baring her skin for all the world to see. “Do I look any different?”

Will had dealt with the fae in general—and Tailtiu in particular—enough that he wasn’t overly startled, though his cheeks did flush a bit. He spent a few seconds looking at her skin, which appeared as flawless as before, then he looked away. “Put the illusion back before someone sees you.” He expected her to argue or tease, but the illusory dress reappeared quickly.

“Mother told me my debt to her now belongs to you,” she said without preamble.

He shrugged. “I have no idea how large your debt to her was. I more or less threatened her to get her to agree to the exchange, but as usual, I suspect she somehow profited more from the deal than I did.”

“Seven thousand thirty-four unbound favors and several times that in more mundane favors,” answered Tailtiu immediately. “Given the way you negotiate, it’s probably more than you can reasonably use even in a life that spans centuries.”

Will gaped.

His aunt walked over and slowly knelt before him, her every movement somehow expressing a genuine sincerity he had never seen in her before. There was no mockery in her eyes when she gazed up at him. “The number doesn’t matter, though. I will gladly render any service you need for so long as you live. You’ve given me something I can never repay.”

He frowned, his mind trying to understand her meaning, or at least her motivation. He wasn’t even entirely sure the previous sentences were something that any fae could say. It ran counter to the entirety of their being. Yet he also knew the fae couldn’t lie. So, either it’s true, in which case she cannot be fae, or it’s a lie, which makes more sense—but then it’s something she cannot say. The incipient paradox made his head hurt. Will looked away. “Get up. You’re embarrassing me.”

The old Tailtiu would have taunted him, licked her lips, drawn out the moment, or found some other way to torment him, but the woman in front of him did none of that. She stood and looked down. “I’m sorry. It’s the only way I felt I could express my gratitude. I meant no offense.”

A jolt of adrenaline ran down his spine. It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. Eyes narrowing, he took a quick step back and chanted her name three times. No matter what trick or magic the imposter was using, he would know the truth when he felt the connection of Tailtiu’s true name with the real Tailtiu, wherever she might be. The familiar tingle of connection snapped into being, and his eyes widened, staring into hers.

It was really her. “How can this be?” he asked, confused. “You’ve changed, but you can’t change.”

“Mother said much the same thing. She thinks I’ve been infected with something from your realm.”

He frowned. “Infected with what? You can’t get diseases.”

She shook her head. “Not a disease, something worse than that—a soul.”

Arrogan had once told him the fae had no souls, and over time he’d come to understand the old man’s meaning. Now he was utterly confused.

“Everything is different now,” she continued. “Everything feels different. I don’t know how to explain it. When I remember things from before—that night—they don’t feel real. I wasn’t real.”

“So, that’s a good thing, right?” he asked.

Tailtiu shrugged. “Mother didn’t think so. She called it an unending tragedy of immeasurable suffering, but I think that perhaps she was being melodramatic. Her answer to the problem was less pleasant, though.”

“What was her answer?”

His aunt blanched, expressing fear in a way he’d never seen from her before. “Pain. She told me that enough pain might be able to eliminate my fledgling soul before it could become too firmly established.”

Knowing the fae, knowing Aislinn, Will shuddered. Arrogan’s widow knew more about pain and torture than any mortal could comprehend. There was no telling what methods she might have tried. “You’re her daughter—that’s unthinkable.”

“It’s the standard solution for humans who become fae, to acclimatize them to their immortality and rid them of their useless emotions. My case is the reverse, but Mother felt it had a chance of success, whether it took years or centuries.”

“And that seems reasonable to you?”

“It would have before, but now it terrifies me, though that’s probably just a symptom of my sickness.” She paused, then tentatively, she asked, “What will you do with me?”

That was a good question. He certainly didn’t intend to torture her, but beyond that, he had no idea. “What would you like to do?”

“Can we kiss?”

Will laughed. “Be reasonable.”

It was her turn to frown. “That was reasonable. I didn’t ask you to mount me. You were very clear about your monogamy the last time I visited.” When she saw him rolling his eyes, she switched to a different topic. “Does anyone need killing? After what I’ve been through, it would be nice to relieve some stress.”

I’ve changed my mind, he thought, she’s still Tailtiu. “You can’t kill humans. We’ve been over that—”

“—unless you order me to,” she corrected.

“And I’m never going to do that,” he finished. “Just because it’s possible doesn’t mean I’ll allow it.”

“Surely you called me here for a reason. Isn’t there something you need?”

“Seeing you whole and in good health is enough.”

Disbelief showed on her face. “You dealt with Mother, just to make sure I was healthy?”

Will nodded. “I didn’t even know she was torturing you, otherwise I probably would have pressed her sooner.”

“Don’t do it again—please. She’s too dangerous. You have me now, and if for some reason you absolutely must deal with her again in the future, let me do it,” she insisted.

Once again, he found himself astounded by the change in her personality. “It wouldn’t matter. Grandmother has her eye on me. If she decides she wants something, or has some devious plan involving me, it won’t matter whether I talk to her in person or through an intermediary. She’ll find a way to get what she wants. But I appreciate your concern.”

“That may be true, but she has no hold over me anymore. I may be able to help more than you realize.” She paused, then added, “You’re sure you don’t need me?”

He smiled. “I’ll call if something comes up. Otherwise, just enjoy your freedom.”

“I will try,” she answered, and then Tailtiu’s body blurred. A moment later, a large owl rose into the air and flew away. Still unsure what to think, Will shook his head and turned back toward home.

He was surprised to see a carriage in front of the house. By the crest, he could tell it belonged to the Nerrow family. Will nodded at the driver who stood beside it and went to the front door. When he got there, he could just hear the sound of Laina’s voice, but no matter how he enhanced his hearing he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He glanced back at the coachman and nodded.

It was his home, but he couldn’t be seen to be eavesdropping, so he changed plans and walked around the house to the servants’ entrance by the kitchen. The door there was locked. Anyone who came that way was supposed to knock, but that was no obstacle for Will. He lifted his hand, but even as he prepared to construct the unlocking spell, he felt it come together without effort. As he expressed his turyn, the spell took hold and the latch inside opened.

He stood there for a moment, surprised. His daily practices were paying off, since he had just reflex cast the spell. But why was it that one? I don’t practice it except once a day during my routine. Meanwhile, he was repetitively casting both the light-darts spell and the iron-body transformation every day, but although he had gotten rather fast with them, they were definitely not yet instinctive. What was the difference? Complexity? While the iron-body spell was much harder, the light-darts spell was actually simpler than the unlocking spell, so that couldn’t be it. Was it a function of time? He’d learned the unlocking spell well over a year ago.

He thought about asking Arrogan, but he knew the ring would just tell him it was an unpredictable result of the unique differences that were innate to every wizard. Pushing that aside, Will cast the chameleon spell on himself and then the silent armor spell. He smiled. It had been a while since he’d done any sneaking about.

Will carefully eased the door open, stepped inside, then closed it behind him. As an afterthought, he decided to practice Darla’s grey turyn technique. It was wild magic, even if the former assassin refused to admit it. It also wasn’t really grey, but Will thought of it that way. It was a method of making one’s turyn blend in with the world. In a certain sense, it was analogous to what the chameleon spell did with light, but in practice it was actually more versatile. When Will used it in crowded places, it rarely mattered whether he disguised himself in other ways—people just wouldn’t notice him, even if he was standing in plain sight.

Combined with the silent-armor spell and the chameleon spell it was even more effective. But he had no way of knowing just how much more effective it might be. Secretly he wanted to try using it to sneak up on the goddamn cat, but since he rarely knew where or when the cat would appear, his opportunities were limited.

Passing through the kitchen, he walked within inches of Jeremy, but the cook never looked up from the vegetables he was cleaning. Blake was nowhere to be seen, so Will adjusted his vision to that strange light that let him see the world as a ghostly world of translucent greys. After a moment he spotted the head servant, sitting at a desk in his room poring over a ledger of some sort. In the front parlor, Laina and Selene sat talking quietly. Will quickly returned his vision to normal, as the see-through variety of sight was not only confusing, but also made it difficult to walk without stumbling into nearby obstacles.

Down the hall, he came to the open doorway that led to the parlor and went inside without pausing. Neither his wife nor his sister looked up. Then he paused. Selene was crying. Why? She was fine when I left this morning!

“It’s just temporary,” said Laina soothingly, squeezing Selene’s hand.

Selene shook her head. “You don’t know that. He doesn’t know that. Even Arrogan doesn’t know for certain. This might never change.”

“You’re overthinking this,” Laina suggested. “Just take a deep breath and take one day at a time.”

Will jumped as Selene’s voice rang out sharply. “I’ve been taking it one day at a time! For months—and I’m still useless! I can’t do anything.”

“Give it time…”

“I don’t have time! Winter is almost over. It won’t be long before the army starts to move and Will with it, and here I am, powerless!”

Laina patted her friend on the shoulder. “You can still go with him even if—”

“I didn’t work this hard to follow along as a comfort woman,” growled Selene.

Will winced. ‘Comfort woman’ was the term used for some of the women who traveled with the supply train. Officially they were there to assist with ordinary jobs, but a large portion of them also made considerable coin providing companionship to lonely soldiers.

He had started out feeling curious and playful, but now a mild sense of guilt swept over him. Selene was his wife, and he knew she loved him, but this was not something she wanted him to see, and sneaking in to listen to it was a breach of her trust. It would hurt her pride if she knew he had seen her whining about her troubles. Quietly, he backed out of the room and moved down the hall to the front door.

Standing there, it occurred to him that being raised a princess under such an unforgiving father had made Selene extraordinarily stubborn when it came to hiding her weaknesses. Understanding didn’t make it easier to figure out how he could help her, though. Would it be easier for her if he showed her more of his own low moments, or would that merely reinforce her automatic impulse to remain strong for his sake? “This marriage shit is complicated,” he muttered to himself.

He opened the door and closed it with a thump before stumping about for a moment and using the boot scraper to clean a bit of mud from the soles of his footwear. That done, he walked down the hall and called out. Selene answered immediately, her voice clear and untroubled, “In the parlor, Will. We have a visitor.”

Laina smiled as he entered, then scowled, and finally gave him a quick embrace. Since temporarily sharing a body, he and his half-sister pretended not to get along, but in truth neither of them had quite gotten over the experience. Their souls still bore the scars of having to be separated after nearly fusing together. Will was gladder to see her than he could easily admit. “When did you come to Cerria?” he asked.

“At the beginning of the week,” Laina answered.

He gasped. “And you didn’t come to see us until now?”

“I was busy. Selene’s been positively brutal with her plan to organize supplies and wagons to help the army during the first phase of the campaign. Naturally, I had to come do the work for her.”

Selene took on a look of mock outrage. “And just a minute ago you insisted that you came because you didn’t trust anyone else to handle matters!” Then her eyes drifted down, noting a spot of mud on the rug. It was in a spot farther into the room than Will had yet come, but he knew it was likely from his earlier entrance. She frowned. “That’s odd. The rug was clean not long ago.”

Before she could think on it further, Will put together the cleaning spell she had originally designed and focused it on the floor, cleaning the rugs and the hardwood beneath them. “That should solve it,” he announced.

Laina frowned at him, and Selene gave him an envious look which made him feel even worse, given what he’d recently heard. He hurried to move the conversation along. “Is anyone hungry?”

Chapter 20

The next day Blake brought Will a note from Master Dugas, the head of the Engineering Department, who wanted him to come by for a visit. Will hadn’t interacted with the man on a personal level very many times since the attempted sabotage on the dam the previous year, so he was curious as to what he wanted.

A short walk across the campus and then through the Engineering building, and he found the Master’s office, but when he knocked he immediately noticed he wasn’t the only one who had been summoned. Two other notables were present: Master Courtney, the head of Wurthaven’s Research Department, and Master Salsbury, the head of the Artifice Department.

Master Courtney rose from his chair as soon as Master Dugas opened the door for Will. The older man gestured to Salsbury, and everyone followed him out of the room and down the hall. Will watched them go, unsure what was happening, but Dugas pulled on his arm. “Come along. This is for you.”

They followed the two other men down the hall and through a heavy iron door into a large workroom Will had never seen before. At one end there were ritual diagrams inscribed on the floor, while on the opposite end a forge and a spell-driven auto-hammer were the predominant features. In between were a variety of large tools, molds, supports, tables, and all manner of clamps and forms.

Overall, the room gave the impression that it was the result of a bizarre cross between a smithy, a foundry, and an artificer’s machine shop. Will blinked, then made a mental addition, and a ritualist’s workspace. “What is all this?” he asked.

Master Dugas gave him a wry grin. “It used to be one of my department’s workshops, but after these two got involved it’s turned into an unholy amalgamation of a lot of different things. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

Will glanced at the others, then pointed at himself. “Me?”

Master Courtney directed his attention to a rounded metal piece mounted on a strange table. Clamps held the edges, and the table itself had a complex spell diagram engraved upon it. “Recognize this?”

Will studied the metal for a moment. It appeared to be ordinary steel, well-polished and without a speck of rust showing, but as to what it was for—he bent down and looked at it from the side and realized it was two pieces, just like a… “Is this the breastplate I gave you to examine?” As he asked the question, he saw the faint lines of the Cath Bawlg’s claw marks across the front.

Professor Dugas nodded. “The very same. We finally managed to piece together the method for working the metal. With Master Salsbury’s help, we’ve managed to remove some metal from the sides and reshape it to meet your measurements.”

He frowned. “The scratches are still in the front. You couldn’t polish those out? And why does it look like ordinary steel now?” It had previously been a solid black with very little shimmer or shine.

Master Courtney smiled. “That’s a side effect of the table’s function. Otherwise we couldn’t have worked with it.”

Seeming irritated, Master Salsbury moved forward. “Don’t be cryptic. Let me explain.”

Meanwhile, Will was staring at the spell diagram on the table. He couldn’t be sure of its exact function with such a brief glance, but he’d studied similar designs over the past semester. “It’s a transducer, but what for? The metal doesn’t produce turyn.”

“Yes and no,” said Salsbury. “In the beginning, we were completely unable to work the metal and even after Master Courtney dug through the archives to see if we could find some clues from the notes left by the last of the mage-smiths. Fortunately, he did this and warned us before anyone died—”

“Died?” sputtered Will.

Master Salsbury reached over and twisted several winged knobs on the side of the table, then he pulled a lever, and the clamps holding the demon-steel breastplate opened, releasing it. It just lay there, of course, since he made no move to touch it, but the metal slowly changed color, losing its metallic shine and fading to a dull, light-devouring black. “The metal in its natural state, or its ground state, is a silvery color much like other metals, but whenever it is exposed to mechanical or kinetic forces it acts like a natural transducer, converting kinetic energy into void turyn. The black color that most magically sensitive people see is actually not a result of normal light. You’re actually sensing the presence of void turyn, or what some call ‘demonic’ turyn.”

Will swallowed. “Are you saying it’s poisonous to touch?”

“Not when its turyn capacitance is still well below its limits, but once the metal gets above sixty percent of its turyn capacity, it begins to radiate void-flame turyn, and at that point it becomes very dangerous. Anyone coming into contact with it at that point is liable to receive a lethal dose of demonic turyn. We still don’t understand exactly how the mage-smiths worked with such a dangerous substance, though, since it appears they handled the material directly.”

“I believe Lord Arenata can resolve that mystery for us, Master Salsbury,” said Master Courtney with a smug expression. It took Will a moment to realize the head of the research department was referring to him. He still wasn’t used to the title.

Salsbury gave Courtney a look of annoyance. “I know you’ve said His Grace is a natural transducer, but this is void turyn we’re talking about—”

Will interrupted, “Did the archives mention anything about the qualifications of the mage-smiths who worked with demon-steel?”

Master Dugas answered, “They had some sort of order classification, similar to what we use for spells today. As best we can tell, it simply refers to skill and experience. Personally, I think a second-order mage-smith would be equivalent to a journeyman wizard today, and third-order was probably similar to a master. Most of those allowed to work with such a rare metal were at least second-order.”

Will shook his head. “No, it refers to something more specific, and it wasn’t just the smiths. All wizards were ranked according to that system.” Reaching out, he put his hand on the breastplate and pulled, drawing the void turyn from it. The armor piece became a shiny metallic hue once more, and Will concentrated the demonic turyn above his other hand, forming it into a ball of black flame.

Master Salsbury hissed as he drew in a surprised breath of air. “Impossible!”

With an effort of will, he changed the turyn until it matched his own, then silently absorbed it. “It’s entirely possible, and Master Courtney is correct, except about the ‘natural’ part of it. My ability is a result of training. It’s essentially what the first-, second-, and third-order designations refer to.”

“So what would you have been classified as, Mister Cartwright?” asked Master Courtney, ignoring Will’s title.

“Third-order, although as Master Dugas noted, I think second-order could do this almost as well, and first-order probably couldn’t.”

“First-order, is that what they would have classified us as?” asked Jason Dugas.

Will paused to organize his thoughts in a diplomatic fashion before responding, “Begging your pardon, Master Dugas, but no. The classification had nothing to do with knowledge or seniority. Most wizards at the time were first-order, but everyone at Wurthaven today would have been considered zero-order.”

Dugas mulled it over, then repeated, “Zero-order…”

Alfred Courtney laughed. “Don’t be so courteous, Mister Cartwright.” He pointed at the other two professors and then at himself. “They would have called us apprentices. Mister Cartwright has explained some of the training to me, in vague terms, but hopefully we can start training a select few according to his techniques next year.”

“To hell with the students,” said Salsbury. “I’d like to learn these techniques.”

Courtney cackled. “You’re too old. We all are.”

Will nodded, thinking of Selene. Was that her problem? Had she learned too late? Would she be unable to practice magic in a meaningful way for the rest of her days?

Master Courtney waved a hand at Salsbury. “You’ve gotten us off the topic. Finish explaining.”

Todd Salsbury cleared his throat. “So, as I was saying. Any movement, pressure, you name it, causes the metal to generate void turyn. That turyn remains within the metal, giving it its characteristic look, but it also increases its strength.”

Will interrupted again, “Yield strength or tensile strength?”

“Both,” answered the artificer. “As well as hardness. At its ground state, demon-steel is very close to simple iron, but as the turyn within it increases, its material properties shoot up at exponential rates. This also explains the scratches—whenever those were made, the metal was probably drained, or very close to its ground state. You never said what made the scratches, did you?”

A giant cat demigod, thought Will. “No, I didn’t.” Considering the effect of the ritual on the demon-lord, it was very possible the entity had been extremely low on turyn when the Cath Bawlg attacked. Leycachak might have drawn on his armor to replace some of his lost energy at the start of the fight.

Master Salsbury stared at him for a moment, hoping for a better answer, but eventually gave up and continued, “In any case, we found that by using a transducing enchantment, we could drain the excess turyn and make the metal pliable enough to work with. We actually have to continue the drain while working on it, as hammer blows, cutting, or any other work done simultaneously causes the demon-steel to produce turyn and become unworkable. If we had continued testing it without draining the turyn, the metal might very well have reached its saturation point and exploded.”

Will coughed. “Really?”

All three men nodded, then Dugas spoke. “With a little math, it’s apparent that the amount of turyn released after it reaches full capacity would be enough to destroy a sizeable area, and worse yet, it would be void turyn. Even people at a considerable distance might be poisoned by the turyn, leaving them to die slow deaths later on.”

“So does it have to be drained at regular intervals?” asked Will.

“As long as the stress put upon it isn’t constant, no. Once it reaches sixty percent, it begins to radiate void turyn, which, while dangerous, isn’t nearly as bad as an explosion. It will passively radiate that turyn until it gets below sixty percent, so while someone touching it might be turyn-poisoned, it won’t ever get to the point of exploding unless it’s placed under immense stress for an extended period of time,” answered Dugas.

“I still think it’s too dangerous just to let him have it,” said Salsbury.

Will ignored the remark, picking up the breastplate and opening it up so he could see if it fit properly. The backplate was attached to the frontplate with a hinge that ran along one side. He could see that the edge had been cut and rolled on the other side, and that a set of new leather straps had been added. The rest of it had been reshaped, since simply cutting a bit off at one side would have made it unwearable.

Overall, the work was functional, but the lack of polish and finish would probably have disgusted any armor smith with a sense of pride in his craftsmanship. The fact that much of that wouldn’t be noticeable when the armor assumed its usual matte black color would have been small consolation to someone like Byron Waters, who lived by his reputation.

Will didn’t care, though. All he wanted was something that would keep sharp things away from his heart and belly. Pulling it closed, he tightened the straps and checked the fit. It was slightly loose, but that was to be expected since the measurements had been taken with a padded gambeson in mind. “It’ll do,” he pronounced.

Salsbury looked at the others. “You aren’t going to let him take it out of here, are you?”

Courtney shrugged and Dugas remained silent. Will undid the straps then stored the breastplate in the limnthal with a thought, before giving Salsbury a mischievous grin. “Take what out of here?”

“What? Where did it go?” demanded the artificer.

“That’s not your concern, Master Salsbury,” said Will in tone that was meant to placate the man, but which probably had the opposite effect. “Besides, don’t forget who it belonged to originally.”

“A demon-lord,” said Salsbury. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“It became mine after I made sure the demon-lord was dead,” said Will. “And as we’ve just discussed, I’m probably the only person who can safely use it, at least for now.” He left out the fact that it was actually the goddamn cat who had slain Leycachak, but Will had put considerable effort into the summoning that brought the demon-lord over and drained most of his power, so he felt he deserved some of the credit.

Chapter 21

Laina spent the rest of the week with them rather than stay alone in her family’s (now rebuilt) city house. Despite her claims of extreme business Will’s sister did take time to come and observe some of his training sessions, though she didn’t comment or participate. Ostensibly it was so that she could visit with Janice, but Will suspected it was more to satisfy her curiosity regarding his doings.

The next two weeks after she left passed without incident while Will’s trainees continued to improve. Most of them could now keep two spells prepared, and a few, including both Burke Leighton and Emory Tallowen, had managed three. The two young men were from vastly different social classes, but they were developing a grudging respect for one another despite their differences.

His personal efforts showed results in both the variety of spells he had committed to memory as well as his ability to hit targets at long range with the light-darts. He still couldn’t reflex cast either the iron-body spell or the light-darts spell, but oddly he had become capable of reflex casting Selene’s Solution. That blew his theory about the primary factor being time since learning the spell. He had known and been using many other spells before mastering that one. Again, he was left shaking his head at the seeming randomness of it all.

The end of the year arrived, bringing with it the end of the school semester and the Winter Ball. Will and Selene attended, as was expected, and this year he was able to spend more time dancing and enjoying the company of both his sisters and a variety of other acquaintances he'd made since moving to the capital and joining high society.

Selene’s magical issues hadn’t changed. She seemed to have fully adapted to the third-order compression, but she still didn’t absorb enough excess turyn to enable her to cast spells without rendering herself virtually helpless. Will didn’t mention, it and whenever Selene did bring it up he told her he was sure things would resolve themselves over time, but he was growing more worried by the day. When he pestered Arrogan about it, the old man simply pointed out that at the very least she would live as long as he did.

Once the new year had arrived, the military preparations were getting closer to done, and Will knew that soon he would be leaving. Since he was no longer attending classes, he and Selene took the opportunity to visit his family in Barrowden. Will had seen them once, during the vampire incidents, but this was Selene’s first visit since their marriage, so she was visibly worried when they exited their carriage at Will’s old home.

It wasn’t his mother’s home anymore, though. Erisa’s brother, his uncle Johnathan, had converted it into a workplace, keeping only a small area to sleep in. The rest of the building now held tools and supplies for his trade—building wagons. The broad-shouldered man stood on the front porch now, watching Will and Selene climb down from the carriage. Unbidden, the image of Arrogan standing in the same place came to Will’s mind. It was the exact spot that the old man had made his final stand.

He shook his head to clear it, then glanced at Selene. Back in the capital, the proper protocol would have been for him to offer her his arm and escort her to the house, where they could make formal introductions.

Fortunately, Selene was a social chameleon, having spent years pretending to be one of the masses under various disguises. Rather than stand out, she had chosen a well-made but modest dress with simple floral embroidery at the hem, neck, and sleeves. Unlike her former common guises, her current attire did nothing to hide her royal station, but neither did it flaunt it. Today she was a very ordinary princess, the sort almost anyone could feel comfortable talking with.

Ordinary, my ass! thought Will. Dressing down seemed to produce the opposite effect, at least in his opinion. Rather than have her honest features overshadowed by jewelry and ornamentation, Selene made up the difference by radiating a calm confidence that seemed to brighten the colors of the world around her. Then again, that could just be my personal bias talking, he reminded himself.

Suddenly self-conscious in front of his uncle, Will glanced down. He was dressed to match, in a well-made but understated tunic of red-dyed wool. In his peasant’s eye, he looked ridiculously wealthy, but the effect was ruined by the way he imagined the tunic hung from his shoulders. Selene had insisted he looked dashing, but his own glance in the mirror had confirmed his own underwhelming opinion.

A second man stepped out of the house, and for a moment Will almost didn’t recognize his cousin. He’d long ago seen the signs that Eric would share his father’s sturdy frame, but a few years, army food, and hard training had turned his cousin into an unreasonably handsome man. Light brown hair and beard, shoulders to match his father’s, tall, lean, and well-muscled—Eric looked so good that Will couldn’t help but feel a bit of envy.

While he goggled at his grinning cousin, Selene stepped forward and affected a warm and almost shy demeanor as she greeted Johnathan Cartwright. “It’s been too long since we were able to visit, but I hope—”

Johnathan cut her off, “—save your apologies for Erisa. I’m just glad to see you.” His expression was open and friendly. “We’re family now, but I have to ask, is it allowed to hug princesses?”

“Depends on the situation,” she answered. “In Cerria, only in private, but here—I’d love it if you could treat me just as you would your own son’s wife.” Almost before she had finished, Will’s uncle stepped forward and swept her up into a massive hug before swinging her around with an enthusiastic ‘whoop.’ Her feet flew out as he spun, and then a second later he put her down.

The respite was short-lived, for Eric followed his father’s example and snatched her up again, spinning around several times until she was dizzy. Will steadied her when her feet found the ground again, then embraced his uncle and cousin in turn. After a second, he held Eric out at arm’s length. “What the hell have you been eating?”

“Hard work and clean living,” answered Eric. “Besides, I’m pretty sure whatever you’re eating is even better.” Eric’s hands squeezed Will’s upper arms, elbows, and then his wrists. “You’ve filled out even more than I have.”

Will frowned. “I had a lot farther to go, and from what I can see I doubt I’ll ever catch up.”

After their greetings were done, Eric and his father closed up the shop and together the four of them started walking along the forest trail that led toward Arrogan’s old house deeper in the Glenwood Forest. No roads or large paths went to the old shack, which was the main reason that they had left the carriage (and the carriage driver) at Will’s old home.

In years past, Will could have run to their destination in fifteen to twenty minutes, but with four of them walking at a regular pace the journey took half an hour. Along the way, Will asked his cousin about his appearance. He hadn’t expected a chance to see both Johnathan and Eric on the same day.

“Dad got word to me when he heard you were coming, and I was lucky enough to have some leave coming to me close to it. I only had to trade days with a few friends and get the captain’s approval to be here today,” said Eric.

“Still, it must have been a bit of trouble for you,” Will replied.

His cousin shrugged. “Not too much. I think you forget who you are now.” Eric’s eyes shifted to Selene and back before winking at him. “My captain was only too happy to let me visit with my cousins-in-law.”

“That reminds me. Which unit are you in?” asked Will.

“As the Royal Marshal I figured you’d have had one of your assistants look up that information for you by now,” replied Eric.

Will sidestepped a fallen tree limb, offering a hand to Selene as she stepped over, then responded, “I’m still new to this, and to be honest, I wasn’t even sure if I should ask.”

Eric frowned in confusion, but his father clarified Will’s meaning. “He means he worried about knowing what part of the army his family was in, since it might affect his decision making.”

“Ahh,” said Eric. “I won’t tell you then, even though you asked.”

“First Division, Third Regiment, First Battalion, Company D,” said Will’s uncle decisively.

Will was puzzled, but Eric frowned at his father and asked, “Why’d you do that?”

Eric’s father shrugged. “I’m not burdened by his ethical concerns. If he bends the rules and it keeps you alive, all the better.” Will’s uncle finished by repeating Eric’s division and unit a second time for good measure.

Will laughed while at the same time taking mental notes to make sure he didn’t forget. He had no conscious intention of deliberately keeping Eric out of danger, but at the same time he couldn’t let the knowledge pass him by. “I don’t suppose you know which division Tiny’s unit is in?” he asked.

“Barrentine’s company is somewhere in Second Division, but that’s as much as I know,” answered Eric.

That meant if something happened to either the First or the Second, he might lose someone important to him. Toss in the fact that Mark Nerrow was leading the Fifth and Sixth Divisions, and it made it even harder to imagine a disaster happening to any part of the army without it personally affecting him, and that was before he considered the student sorcerers he was training, Janice among them, who would be spread throughout the six divisions. Will had no intention of playing favorites, but with every day that the war drew closer, he felt ever more certain he was bound to lose people he cared about.

He was snapped from his reverie by the sound of Sammy’s voice carrying through the trees. She had spotted them and was running back toward the house to alert Erisa. By the time they had reached the small yard in front, his mother was already standing there, drying her hands with a towel. Will might have wondered what she’d been doing, but his mind was already occupied with the revelation that a smaller and entirely new building had grown up beside the original shack, which itself had been rebuilt in many places. The term ‘shack’ didn’t really fit it anymore.

Before he could ask about the new addition, he had to wait for the ongoing moment between his mother and his wife to end, however. Selene had moved forward the moment she spotted Erisa, and ignoring everyone else she had faced her mother-in-law with a look that combined both trepidation and a hint of regret. Will started to move forward but his uncle put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a hard stare and a firm shake of his head. “Don’t,” his uncle said almost inaudibly.

“It’s taken me too long to get here,” began Selene. “I know you must be terribly hurt and—”

Will’s mother held up one hand. “Stop. I don’t like where that’s leading.” She studied her daughter-in-law for a moment that dragged an interminable silence before she finally spoke again. “I won’t lie. I was disappointed and sad. He’s the only child I’ll ever have after all, but what’s done is done, and from what I’ve heard the two of you really didn’t have much choice. Besides—” Erisa looked at Will then back at Selene, her expression changing. “For a while I was afraid my son might be making the same mistake I made, back when I fell in love with a charming and handsome young nobleman. I knew it wasn’t wise, that we could never stay together, but I couldn’t help myself.

“I thought that would be the same fate for my son. And even though I liked you from the beginning, I didn’t believe he would ever get anything but misery from falling in love with a royal.” Erisa’s eyes grew misty and a sorrowful smile twisted her lips. “But you proved me wrong, and you’ve given him happiness instead, so even though it was sudden and unexpected, even though I didn’t get to see it, I should thank you instead.” She barely finished the sentence as her voice grew steadily thicker and by the end she was choking on tears.

She wasn’t the only one, of course. Selene’s cheeks were streaming as she threw her arms around Erisa. “I’m so sorry. You deserve more…”

“Don’t be sorry!” answered Erisa hoarsely. “Don’t be! I couldn’t ask for a better daughter…”

Johnathan and Eric watched stoically, though the older man daubed at his eyes a few times with one sleeve. Sammy teared up, but since the other two were already hugging each other, she turned to her favorite cousin for comfort. Will’s misty eyes were obscured by a cloud of frizzy red hair as Sammy hugged him fiercely. “I missed you,” she said over one shoulder.

“I missed you too, Sammy,” he said quietly, and he meant it.

“Are you cooking tonight?” she asked softly.

Will pushed her back but held onto her. “Now I see why you missed me!”

His cousin’s face was a messy mixture of shining tears and a bright smile. “I won’t deny that I have more than one reason for being glad to see you,” she responded.

He pulled her in close again before her happy tears could make him start crying as hard as his mother and Selene currently were. “You ever think of moving to Cerria, Sammy?” he asked suddenly.

She answered over his shoulder. “And leave Papa, and your mom? What would they do?”

Neither his mother nor his uncle were getting any younger. “I mean everyone. I’ve come into a lot of money. I could take care of everyone—you, Mom, your dad, even Eric. They could do whatever they wanted, work or take it easy.”

Sammy squeezed him once more, then let go. After she wiped her face, her features took on a more serious look. “Obviously, I’m not the one to ask, but I suspect it wouldn’t be as simple or as easy as that. Dad’s proud and he likes his work. He could probably work anywhere, but this is his home. Your mom, I have no idea, and Eric’s married to the army now. He won’t settle down until he can retire and take a wife.” She paused, then grinned. “Besides, you’ve forgotten that you promised to start taking me along on your adventures. I’m almost grown now. You weren’t thinking about leaving me behind again, were you?”

He’d actually been thinking about her off and on for over a year. “Would you like to learn magic? It won’t be easy.”

The light in her eyes was answer enough, but she responded, “Now you’re talking!”

“Do you have any attention left for your mother?” asked Erisa, who had finally finished her tearful moment with Selene.

Will smiled, hugged his mother, and then they all went inside. They shared a bottle of wine that Eric had brought back with him for his visit, and after a quick round of questioning Will found out that his uncle had been responsible for the new addition and the repairs to Arrogan’s old house. It mainly consisted of a sewing room, and an extra bedroom, but he’d also renovated the kitchen.

The bedroom was used by Johnathan on the weekend when he closed up shop and returned to stay with his sister and daughter, but for the next few days Will and Selene would be using it while Johnathan and Eric had to make do with cots in the kitchen. Sammy still shared Arrogan’s old bedroom with her aunt.

Will cooked, not only because his cousin wanted him to, but because he missed doing it, and Selene attempted to help, though assisting him turned into more of a group activity because she was pretty bad at the tasks he gave her. They laughed and ate, and it was only after the food was all gone that the conversation returned to more practical matters.

“Do you think it’s safe to stay here?” asked Will’s uncle.

He nodded. “This time the war should be on their side of the mountains, but there’s no perfect assurances in this world. I mentioned this to Sammy earlier, but if you’re interested, I’d love to move everyone closer to Cerria, or in Cerria if you prefer.”

Johnathan frowned. “I don’t know anyone in the capital.”

“We’ve lived here most of our lives. I don’t think the city would suit us,” put in Will’s mother. “Besides, I’m just starting to work again, helping people in the area. I wouldn’t have anything to do if we moved.”

“You wouldn’t have to do anything,” suggested Selene, before realizing how the remark sounded. “I mean, you could take your time. Will’s got more than he even knows. You could live quietly on one of his estates. There’s villages near them as well, so you could continue tending to people if that’s your wish.” She glanced at Johnathan, then added, “And wainwrights are welcome anywhere. There’s never enough carts and wagons to be had.”

Will winced internally, and then he caught a knowing glance from Eric. They both knew how the conversation would end. Johnathan Cartwright proved them right with his next statement. “Not to be rude, Selene, but I haven’t worked all my life to live like a tick, leeching my daily bread from someone else’s goodwill.”

“I want to see the city,” said Sammy suddenly.

Her father immediately stepped in. “I don’t want you any farther away than—”

“I want to study magic, like Will,” Sammy finished, ignoring his opinion. “It wouldn’t have been possible before, but it is now, and I could stay with Will and Selene, so I wouldn’t be alone or with strangers.”

Will gaped at her. He’d only just made the suggestion a few hours before, but as with everything else, Sammy had taken the idea and run with it. Johnathan noted the look of startlement on his face then replied, “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, daughter. Maybe you should consider others before you presume—”

“Actually, it was my idea,” said Will. “But I hadn’t really thought things through. It just popped into my head.” Sammy’s face darkened, and he hastened to add, “It’s the war. I’m not going to be there for at least a year, probably, and if you’re going to learn I’d rather teach you myself so you learn properly.”

His uncle frowned. “You don’t think the masters at Wurthaven do a good job?”

Selene stepped in to defend him. “Will isn’t really the same sort of wizard as they are. Arrogan taught him according to the old traditions. I actually gave up my elementals so he could try to teach me the same way.”

“You’re saying you’d rather be a wizard than a sorcerer?” asked Will’s uncle. “How is that working out?”

Will sighed. While he’d explained some things to his mother, his uncle was pretty much completely ignorant when it came to magic. All he knew was the common wisdom, and one thing that everyone knew was that all nobles, and all royalty, had elementals, because sorcery was where true power was to be had.

Selene’s face reddened. Although Johnathan didn’t realize it, he’d hit upon a sore spot, but she faced it with the same honesty she dealt with everything else. “It’s hard and I’m not sure I’ll succeed, but I’d rather try than be what I was. And before I explain that, you should know that your nephew isn’t just a wizard, he’s the wizard. Until he starts teaching people, there aren’t any others, not really. He can do things no one else at Wurthaven can do, and he makes being a sorcerer feel like a fool’s choice.”

Selene paused, mildly embarrassed by her display of emotion, and Erisa stepped in. “Maybe we should all take a breath. Johnathan doesn’t know much about sorcerers, so maybe it would be best if you gave us a quick summary to clarify what you mean exactly.”

Will’s uncle broke in, “I didn’t mean to offend. Sometimes I’m too pointed with my words.”

“No need to apologize,” said Selene.

“So tell us what the differences are,” put in Sammy with a smile, looking at Will.

Will groaned, glancing at Eric for sympathy, but his cousin merely shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I know the least about magic of anyone here.”

That wasn’t entirely true. Eric had at least seen sorcerers during the recent conflict. With yet another sigh, Will began to explain, “So, there’s warlocks, wizards, and sorcerers…”

As he worked his way through the explanation, a new presence made itself known as a grey blur leapt into Sammy’s lap. A second later Will almost lost track of his thoughts as he realized it was the goddamn cat. The demigod stared at him for several seconds, and when it appeared Will might be about to comment, the cat sounded a warning hiss, causing everyone to stop. Sammy glanced curiously at the cat, then back at Will before saying, “I don’t think Mister Mittens likes you. He never does that. Do you think he associates you with that time he was hurt?”

Will glanced at his mother, then rolled his eyes before continuing with his explanation. Was that a collar around the Cath Bawlg’s neck? Surely not.

Chapter 22

They stayed for five days, and although they had a large house with servants and an easy life waiting for them back in Cerria, Will got the feeling that Selene would rather not have to leave. During their time she insisted on behaving more like a daughter-in-law than a guest, meaning she wanted to do all the dirty chores that Sammy ordinarily helped with, from laundry to gardening and even dishes.

That surprised Eric, who would probably have taken on the largest share of the work to give his sister a break, but Will had expected it. Selene had lived a strange life, and the simple drudgery of Will’s peasant family held a special charm for her. Given how much time Selene had spent impersonating commoners, some might have thought she’d have seen enough of it, but for her it was a precious form of escapism, a way to forget her parentage.

Either way, it endeared her to Erisa and Sammy, who both seemed sad to see her go. There were some tears and a lot of hugs when they made their good-byes. “I’ll see you next year,” reiterated Sammy, sniffing.

“After the war is done,” corrected Will, clarifying what they’d agreed to. He hugged both of his cousins once more, then his uncle, and ended with one last long embrace from his mother.

“Please be careful,” reminded Erisa. “You’re all I have.”

Will tried not to meet her tearful gaze; he felt bad enough for leaving. Instead he looked at the rest of his family. “I don’t think that’s quite true.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll be commanding, so he’ll be the safest person in the army,” Selene reassured.

Eric grinned and added, “That’s right, Auntie. Don’t worry about him. Hell, I’m much more likely to get killed since—” His words were cut off sharply as Johnathan cuffed the back of his son’s head.

“We’ll both do our best to come back safely,” said Will.

Erisa looked at her new daughter. “You’ll stay safe at least, won’t you?”

“Don’t worry, Mother,” answered Selene, enjoying the feel of the unfamiliar term. “I won’t be going with them.”

Will raised a brow at that remark, since it ran counter to what he’d expected, but he said nothing. He waited until they’d finished the walk back to his old house and they were inside the carriage before he commented on her words. “You didn’t really mean what you said back there, did you?”

Selene’s face was composed, showing nothing. “I have no intention of starting my relationship with your mother by lying to her.”

Shit. He could tell Selene was upset by the very fact that she seemed so calm—and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it. On one hand he was relieved that she wouldn’t be coming along, but on the other hand, it was completely out of character for her. Should he argue against his own wishes, or be supportive of hers?

His mind chased its own tail for an interminable period before Selene broke the silence for him. “Stop that. I can almost hear your brain cooking itself. I know you didn’t want me along.”

“I would have said that I prefer to keep you safe,” said Will. “But I wasn’t going to try and force you to stay home. We met in an army camp, after all.”

She met his eyes for a second, then looked away, before her feelings could be seen. “I’m doing the logical thing, not for us, but for the nation. As I am currently, I can’t help you with the war, whereas I’ll still have some value for the effort if I’m in Cerria.”

“Your magic isn’t that important. Your experience dealing with the nobility is far more—” Will began.

She didn’t let him finish. “You’ve done fine bringing them to heel. I can do more good in the capital, both in assisting with supply and organizational efforts, and in relaying messages.”

“Messages?”

She tapped her chest, just over her heart. “The heart-stone enchantment.”

His plan had been to remove the binding from her before leaving. While it would allow them to communicate over long distances, he hadn’t factored that into his thoughts. “I’d rather you have your freedom in case something happens to me.” Since he held the master end of the enchantment, it was possible that if he died, a sorcerer could claim control of her in the same fashion that elementals were claimed after their master died.

“If you die, I don’t think I’ll care much about what happens,” she responded. “Besides, this will give you some distinct advantages. If something happens and your forces are split, Father can communicate with any of the sorcerers among them and share their reports with me, then I can pass them along to you, and vice-versa.”

Will opened his mouth, then closed it again. As usual, his wife made a lot of sense.

“Also, if by some chance my ability to use magic normally returns, you could simply summon me to you with the enchantment. Even if it doesn’t, if you win and need me to negotiate terms after the victory, you could summon me then.”

“You seem awfully confident we’ll win.”

She turned to him then, and her eyes held a burning intensity. Leaning over, she planted a kiss on his lips that threatened to set the carriage on fire. Will felt something wet on his skin, and when she finally withdrew he saw a tear run down her cheek. “I’m confident that you will win–because you have to. You’ll win and you’ll come back to me safe and sound. I refuse to entertain any other possibilities.”

He wished he shared her conviction, and his throat went dry as he saw the desperate anxiety that Selene had kept hidden for so long. Unable to form a proper response, he tried to kiss her, but she put her hand between them.

“Say it. Say you’ll come back.”

“I’ll do my best…”

“Believe it. I won’t make you promise, but tell me you believe it. You’ll be back,” she insisted.

Will hesitated, then answered, “I believe it.” She put her hand down and closed her eyes, so he sealed it with a kiss, but deep down he felt a seed of fear in his own heart. What if I can’t make it back to her?

Their journey back to Cerria was uneventful. The weeks that followed it were similar, though they were filled with a frenzy of activity as the final preparations for the campaign were made. The levies had already been brought in and were finishing their cursory training. The bulk of the troops began the march to Barrowden a week in advance of the final elements, which would include Will and some of the senior officers.

His training sessions with the student sorcerers came to an end as they joined their respective companies. There were more companies than sorcerers, so roughly a quarter of the companies had to do without, other than the captain commanding them, but Will prioritized the placements so that all the forward elements of the six-division army would be covered.

Day by day the soldiers streamed away from the city and the surrounding camps, leaving Will feeling ever emptier. Selene continued to secretly work at spellcasting, but while she had fully adjusted to the third compression, she couldn’t seem to convince her body to absorb more turyn than it needed to maintain itself. The smallest of spells left her weak and gasping, and stronger ones would incapacitate her for hours.

Strangely enough, although the war was just beginning, Will had more free time than before, so he continued his own personal training, extending the hours. His ability to reflex cast continued to expand, though once again it wasn’t the light-darts spell or the iron-body transformation, it was the silent-armor spell. It had been a useful spell to him in the past, but somehow he doubted he’d be spending a lot of time scouting now that he was the Royal Marshal.

He also expanded his repertoire, adding a simple ethereal spell that would allow him to shift his body into the ethereal plane for short periods of around five minutes or so. There were better spells that allowed longer durations, but the complexity went up significantly and he didn’t have the time to master a new eighth- or ninth-order spell. Five minutes would have to be enough, if he even had a need for it.

Naturally, he experimented with it quite a bit and soon discovered that although he wasn’t using one of the better versions that included the ability to see the material plane, he could still do so by adjusting his vision himself. The vision that provided was strange and hard to interpret, showing transparent, bluish outlines of whatever was in the other plane. Seeing from the ethereal to the material usually showed a complex array of objects, but looking from the material to the ethereal was generally fruitless. As Arrogan had said, there was simply nothing there to be seen. The only way Will was able to confirm that it actually worked in both directions was by taking objects into the ethereal and leaving them so he could try and see them after returning to the material world.

All in all, it seemed like a useful spell, especially if one needed to hide for a short period of time, or perhaps to get past an obstacle such as a wall, but it would be impossible for him to use it to move more than two or three soldiers that way—say, if he wanted to get them into a castle. There had supposedly once been ethereal-based spells that would enable one to create a temporary passage through a small portion of the ethereal plane to easily allow that type of thing, but he failed to find any, even in the restricted sections of Wurthaven’s library.

In the evenings, Will had been working on learning to control his ability to astrally project. Having someone paralyze him and seal his senses seemed like a rather extreme measure, plus as he got used to the experience, it failed to induce the panic that seemed to enable him to break free of his body. His first idea had been to find a spell that would enable him to block off his own senses, but halfway to the library he’d realized he could probably do that on his own. He’d already become an expert at altering and enhancing his senses—he simply had to do the opposite.

In fact, he’d already tried something similar, dampening his hearing when he needed to study and kept being distracted by other people’s conversations. He’d also started doing so when he projected his voice to prevent being deafened. Blocking his sight and sound were rather simple, though he discovered it was harder to block his sense of touch.

Fortunately, my superpower is stubbornness, he told himself on the day he finally succeeded. After that, his attempts at leaving his body began to show regular improvement. He no longer needed to panic, and if anything, he worried that the biggest danger was that he might grow too accustomed to the experience. Following that train of thought, he took an old piece of Arrogan’s advice and looked up a spell that protected the user from possession. The spell created a barrier that not only prevented unwanted spiritual intrusion but would keep the caster from inadvertently leaving their body, during sleep for example, which Will had already done once before.

It was a sad fact that astral projection wouldn’t allow him to spy on the enemy, though. As he had been taught, and discovered himself through experimentation, he could only go to a place where there was someone he knew, and even then only if they were more than a passing acquaintance. There needed to be some sort of connection or relationship; otherwise it simply didn’t work. Consequently, it was easy for him to find friends and family, or people he dealt with on a regular basis, but a one-time meeting with someone usually wasn’t enough for him to find them on the astral plane.

He wanted to do more than just check up on his family now and then, so he practiced by trying to find the student sorcerers while he was on the astral plane. Doing so made the limits of the ability abundantly clear. While he could remember the names and faces of nearly half of the two hundred students, he couldn’t find most of them astrally. In general, he was able to find those he interacted the most with, like Burke, Emory, and a few others who had made a deeper impression on him.

Will really wished he could communicate with the people he found that way, but aside from his sister Laina, and her bodyguard Darla, no one could sense him when he was observing them astrally.

Eventually the day of his leave-taking arrived, and Will said his sad farewells to Selene. They’d spent the previous days and the evening before reaffirming their love and repeating promises to one another, so when he finally stepped out the door, they both kept it brief as they tried to keep from turning the moment in to a tearful event.

“I don’t want to go,” he said as he wavered at the door. Their carriage waited for him in front of the house.

“I know,” said Selene, her voice tight. “But we can talk whenever you have a spare moment.” She patted her chest as a reminder of the heart-stone enchantment.

“It takes turyn from both ends. I don’t want to exhaust you.”

“I don’t care. Talk to me anyway,” she insisted. “Besides, you won’t be lonely. You’ll be surrounded by people.”

“I’m lonely whenever you’re not with me.”

She pursed her lips. “Liar. You’ll be among friends. Janice will be there, not to mention Eric and Tiny.”

A sly look appeared on his face. “I notice you mention Janice first. Are you worried?”

It was her turn to look smug. “Not at all. I’ve planted someone close to you to make sure you remain faithful.” She paused for a second, then playfully added, “Oh, and I trust you—of course.”

He laughed, raising his brows. “A spy? Dare I wonder who it might be?”

“You’ll understand soon,” she replied mysteriously. “Think of her as a surrogate in my place. Someone to look after my interests.”

“Her?” Now he really was puzzled. “What are these interests you speak of? Isn’t it counterproductive to send a woman to guard your husband’s chastity?”

Selene snorted in a decidedly unladylike fashion. “Hearing you say ‘chastity’ is hilarious!” she teased. “My main interest is in keeping you safe and sound. You’ll understand when you meet your assistant.”

“Assistant,” he repeated, turning the word over in his mouth.

“Bodyguard, whatever you prefer.” She ran her hands down his chest, smoothing his tunic before rising on her toes to deliver a final kiss. “Now, go—before I break down in front of you.”

Will’s eyes started to water. “You’re not the only one—”

Selene closed her eyes tightly, scrunching up her face. “Go!” Then she stepped back and started to shut the door. “Good fortune and fair weather, my love,” she said huskily, repeating a traditional phrase before closing it firmly.

Keeping his lips tightly together, Will turned and went to the carriage, and as he went he tried to dampen his hearing—so that he couldn’t hear the woman crying on the other side of the door. Once he was ensconced in the privacy of the carriage, he let his own emotions run their course for a short while.

The year ahead seemed like it would be his longest yet.

Chapter 23

The carriage stopped at the main cathedral, where it would meet up with one of the last companies to leave the city, along with several other wagons, carriages, and some of his administrative staff. His clerk, Lieutenant Renly, boarded the carriage then, followed by two more figures he hadn’t expected. One of them he recognized immediately.

“What are you doing here?” Will demanded, his voice taking a more severe tone than he’d intended.

Laina Nerrow pushed her hood back and gave him a sharp look. “Selene said she’d explain, or are you already slipping into your dotage?” She moved in and took a seat beside him, while the woman behind her, Darla, entered and sat next to the lieutenant opposite them.

He understood immediately. “Oh, you’re the chaperone.”

His sister glared at him. “I am not a chaperone. Officially I’m here to help as a liaison between the military and the Mothers of Terabinia, but my main purpose is to make sure you get home in one piece. Think of me as your bodyguard.”

Will rubbed his chin, imagining his fierce sister following him around the military camps. “More of an enforcer,” he pronounced finally.

Darla’s stoic expression broke, and a stifled laugh escaped her lips. Laina scowled, then replied, “Enforcer? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smiled. “You’re more of a thug. I can set you to punish those who annoy me.”

Laina growled, prompting a tiny, mocking ‘bark’ from Darla, who looked at Will with obvious agreement. He laughed, Laina snarled, and poor Lieutenant Renly stared uncomfortably out the window, unsure how to respond in the presence of what was obviously a family conversation.

Will mulled things over, deciding Selene’s choice made more sense than anyone else he could imagine. His sister’s loyalty, both to Selene and to him, was unassailable, and her magical ability was better than most of the sorcerers he’d trained, not to mention Laina had more than one elemental. With Darla along as a bonus, Laina was better protection than any soldier or sorcerer Will could think of, plus she had the benefit of being well versed in politics and the inner workings of Terabinia’s nobility. Add to that the fact that he could trust her completely, and short of Selene actually being there herself, Laina was the perfect choice to accompany him.

After a while everyone grew quiet, and Will found himself mulling over the time it would take to get to Barrowden—seven days. If he traveled with Tailtiu, he could make the journey much more quickly, from a few hours to most of a day, depending on how much risk he was willing to tolerate. Instead he would be trapped in a carriage with three people for the week.

Laina he didn’t mind. Outwardly they fought, but ever since the experience of merging and separating their souls they both felt better when they were together than when they were apart, though neither of them would readily admit it. Darla was a complete failure as a conversationalist, however, and Lieutenant Renly was so awkward socially that it only made matters worse.

It came as a relief when the clerk produced a deck of cards and they were able to pass the hours with games rather than conversation alone.

That evening they stopped at a wayside inn. Such businesses were common along the main arteries that led from the capital out to a distance of several days’ travel, and one could usually find accommodations even if there wasn’t a proper town nearby. Will and Renly shared one room while Laina and Darla had another. The coachman had to sleep in the carriage, something that Will thought was unfair, but everyone looked at him as though he’d grown two heads when he suggested they rent a third room.

After the evening meal, Renly and Darla stayed downstairs to enjoy a few drinks in the common room, but Will retreated upstairs to run through as much of his spell practice as could reasonably be done indoors. By necessity he’d have to forgo the range practice.

He was only fifteen minutes into the multitude of spells he practiced daily when a knock came at the door. It was Laina. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Spell practice.”

“While we travel?”

He nodded, and Laina’s lips pursed thoughtfully. “How long does yours take?”

Mine? “Have you been practicing too?” he asked.

“Ever since the family had to take refuge at your house,” she explained. “You were so serious about it—every day—even when everything else had gone to chaos. The vampire catastrophe sort of underscored the importance too.” She lifted her chin and repeated her question, “So how long does your practice take?”

“A little more than an hour and longer if I have a good place to work on my aim. When I can, I try to spend an hour on that as well.”

She frowned. “An hour? What spells are you practicing?”

“All of them.”

Laina cocked her head to one side with an expression that said she felt he’d said something ridiculous. “Be specific. It would be impossible to practice every spell in a single day.”

“Every spell I’ve learned.”

“Why the hell would you do that? Is your memory that bad? Besides, most of them you could simply look up if you needed to remember.”

“Maybe not. Besides, by practicing them at least once a day I’ll eventually be able to instinctively cast them. That’s the real goal.”

His sister walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I think we’re miscommunicating. You mean you practice all the battle spells you know, right?”

Will smirked, then demonstrated his greatest accomplishment. A mild wind came up and swept around the room and over the two of them, cleaning their clothes, bodies, and the room itself. He still wasn’t sure why he’d become capable of reflex casting Selene’s Solution, but since it was eighth-order he knew it would impress. Laina’s eyes went wide with shock and she shot to her feet. “Shut the door!” He frowned and started to do so, but she waved her hands at him. “It’s just an expression.”

“Ahh. I was wondering, since most people don’t realize we’re siblings, it might be considered odd.”

She ignored his comment. “How many spells can you reflex cast?”

Will counted fingers. “Five so far.”

“Five? Even some of the teachers can’t do that many, and that’s after decades!”

“It’s just a matter of repetition and practice.”

“How many are you planning to master that way?”

“As many as possible. I figure if I keep working at it like this, an hour a day, I should be able to reflex cast several hundred someday.” The disbelief on her face was obvious, so Will figured it was probably time to have the talk. Taking a few steps, he closed and locked the door, then he erected a force-cage within the room, sealing them inside and limiting the transfer of sound.

Once upon a time Laina would probably have demanded an explanation, or possibly taken such acts as a declaration of war, but those days were long gone. Beneath their abrasive interactions, neither Will nor his sister had anything less than complete trust in each other. He sat down on one bed and gestured to the other across the room.

She ignored him and sat beside him instead. “This way I can reach you more easily when you say something stupid,” she said, making a fist with one hand.

Will laughed, but his features quickly became serious. “You know I’m going to live a long time, don’t you?”

“That depends on who you irritate,” she joked, but when he didn’t laugh, Laina responded more seriously. “Selene mentioned wanting to live longer, but she didn’t really clarify exactly what that meant. Did the old wizards really live that much longer? Surely some of it was exaggerated.”

“Eight times longer,” said Will simply. “From the day I completed the third compression, I can expect approximately eight years for every one year I would have previously had. I’ll likely last at least six hundred years and it’s possible I could make it nearly eight hundred if I’m extremely long-lived.”

Laina stared into his eyes without saying a word for almost a minute, studying his expression. Finally, she responded, “You’re being completely honest.”

He nodded.

“You told me about the compressions before. It depends on the number, doesn’t it?”

“First-order means your source only releases half the turyn it normally would have—that doubles your remaining years—and second and third halve it twice more, allowing one to live four or eight times longer, respectively.”

She took a long slow breath. “That really gives a person something to think about.” Looking around, she waved her hand at the force-walls surrounding them. “You think this needs that much privacy?”

“Probably, but mainly I didn’t want Darla to hear if she was nearby,” he told her.

Laina raised one brow. “She and I don’t keep secrets from each other, Will.”

“That’s up to you,” he responded. “This is one you might want to keep, at least until you decide.”

She put her lips together, then after a second something flickered behind her eyes. “Oh.”

Will nodded sadly. “Depending on how far you get in the training, you could live a very long time, and most of it will be without her.”

“That’s why Selene was so determined to succeed at that third compression,” agreed Laina, then her eyes focused on his once more. “If it’s as hard as she described, she might be the only person you know who manages it.”

“I think most can succeed at second-order if they don’t give up and they’re given proper training, so long as they aren’t too old.”

“Still, it won’t be a lot of people, and you’ll outlive them by several centuries. You could spend the last half of your life without family, friends, or anyone who really remembers you from your youth,” said Laina somberly.

“Better than dying, though.”

She stared at her hands. “Maybe, but it seems really sad somehow as well. My parents are too old, aren’t they?”

“Definitely. Selene might have been on the verge of being too old. You probably still have a year or two to decide.”

“Whether to grow old with Darla and leave you and Selene to survive alone, or to stay young and watch Darla age and die without me.” She paused, then asked, “What about Tabitha?”

“She’ll have the same choice.”

Laina shook her head. “I’m not sure if this is a blessing or a curse.”

“From what I’ve been told, the biggest danger for third-order wizards was suicide,” said Will. “Many of them became increasingly isolated as their friends and relatives died off.”

She took his hand and squeezed. Will felt a moment of vertigo as his spirit tried to leave his body and rejoin the half residing within his sister. It took him a moment to focus his will and stabilize himself. A side effect of my practice at astral projection, he mused.

Laina had felt something, for she winced as he stabilized the boundary between their souls. “Was that?” she asked.

“Probably. I’ve been working at controlling my ability to leave my body, but it looks like I’ll need to be careful around you,” he answered. Glancing over, he noticed she was chewing her lip.

“It’s not going to be easy for whichever one of us is left behind, is it?”

He understood what she meant immediately, but he tried to assuage her worry. “We don’t know that. Arrogan said it will probably improve with time, as our souls diverge and become more distinct and unique.”

“Time as in years—or decades?” Laina replied sullenly. She released his hand, then reached over with her other hand and pinched herself on the arm. Will jumped slightly as he felt a phantom pain in his own limb.

It wasn’t as strong as if he’d been pinched himself, but it was definitely noticeable. He’d experienced a lot of similar phantom sensations since the day they were separated, but he hadn’t mentioned them to anyone other than his mentor. “I don’t think it’s as strong as it was in the beginning,” he observed.

Laina scratched her head. “I can’t tell a difference.” Then she rose to leave.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Practice. Once again, you’ve made me feel like I’m not doing enough.”

He rose to follow her. “I want to see the armor you packed.”

“It’s still in my trunk on the carriage. No point in dragging it up here.” Reaching into her bosom, she drew out what he’d thought was a pendant but was in fact a key on a chain. “You’ll need this to open it.”

Will waved a hand. “I won’t need it.” Leaving her to her self-imposed practice, he went downstairs. Along the way he smoothed his turyn in the way that he’d learned from watching Darla, but he didn’t use any other spells to hide himself visually. None of the people in the common room looked up as he passed through. Even Darla failed to notice him from her seat next to Renly at the bar.

Outside, he passed several men standing about but none of them glanced his way or seemed to pay any heed to his presence. Out of curiosity he moved closer to them, and when even that failed to elicit a response, he deliberately stumbled into one fellow. What ensued was almost comical as all three of the strangers were startled. Interestingly though, none of them were shocked or frightened, as they might have been if he had dismissed a camouflage spell. It was more as if they had been aware of him on some level, but their minds had failed to pay any significant attention to him until he had forced them to respond.

Overall, he was pleased. The assassin’s technique might not work in certain circumstances, but it seemed more versatile than his camouflage spell, and unlike it, it would never draw extra attention to him if he did get noticed. In combination, the two things were probably even more effective.

The inn didn’t have a carriage house, so while the horses were stabled away, their carriage was merely parked beside the building. Will walked to the back and undid the straps that held their travel trunks in place and carefully unloaded them so he could open Laina’s. He noted it was uncharacteristically heavy, as his own might have been if he had packed anything significant within.

The top layers were mainly clothing, blankets, personal items, and a box that held several pounds of expensive soap. Obviously, she’s got her priorities straight, thought Will, smiling wryly. He hadn’t packed any for himself, since it seemed like an extravagance. The soldiers made do with the meager supplies of cheap soap they were given once a week; the rest of the time they got by with sand, ashes, or a simple rinse if enough water was available.

Will had lived it himself, although now he was grateful that he could use Selene’s spell to handle such matters. Still, a proper bath is always welcome. He felt guilty almost as soon as he thought it, considering the privations the men of the rank and file had to endure.

Digging deeper, he found a heavy sack of oilcloth wrapped inside a layer of soft leather to keep the oil from getting on everything else in the trunk. Withdrawing it and removing the armor within, he let out a soft whistle. Someone had spared no expense. Laina’s armor was entirely functional, and only decorative in the sense that it had the visual appeal of something clearly crafted by a master armorsmith.

The mail was riveted and would be heavy when combined with the padded gambeson, though it saved some weight in that there were plate greaves and cuisses. There was no breastplate, but that might have been too much for Laina’s small frame without modifying the mail to reduce weight in the areas it would have covered. There was even a domed helm.

All in all, she would be better geared than most of the soldiers, and he wouldn’t need to worry much about her being struck by a stray arrow. Unless it hit her in the face, she would survive. So long as she wasn’t caught by a spear in the gut, she’d be fine. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting her anywhere near the front lines.

A warm feeling over his heart alerted him to activity from Selene’s heart-stone enchantment. He fed a small thread of turyn into it and saw her face appear in front of him. He wished he could cross over and be with her immediately. He also noted that her face was drawn and pale. “It’s only been one day. You’re wearing yourself out,” he chided.

“I don’t care,” she told him, unrepentant. “I wanted to see your face. How do you like your bodyguard?”

“You chose the best chaperone possible,” he replied, a glint of mirth in his eye.

“Where are you?”

“You know how far a carriage travels, and you studied the maps with me. You know exactly which wayside inn we made it to.” Selene’s face was turning grey, and he could see sweat beginning to bead at her temples. “Let’s end the connection,” he told her.

She nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Will broke the contact then. He was glad to see Selene’s face, but knowing how difficult it was for her worried him. The turyn drain had been miniscule, and yet she had seemed close to passing out. Even if she lives for centuries, will she be able to forgive me if she has to do it without magic?

Chapter 24

The military camp in Barrowden no longer fit the name ‘camp.’ The kingdom’s efforts over the past two years had made it into something like a fortified city, except there was no city. Barrowden’s population was tiny and had been completely dwarfed by the military outpost’s garrison. Then, Will supposed that might be the very definition of a fort, as opposed to a fortified city.

Even with the timbered walls and expansive barracks, Fort Barrowden was utterly incapable of housing the more than thirty-two thousand men of Terabinia’s army. The First Division was able to stay in the barracks, but the other five divisions were arranged outside the walls in five massive but orderly camps.

It was an army many times greater than the one he’d been a part of originally, but seeing the camps with their familiar layouts brought back memories, and the first thought that came to him was that he was glad he wouldn’t have to dig latrines. “Or earthworks,” he muttered. “That was even worse.”

Lieutenant Renly perked up. “Pardon?”

Will shook his head. “Sorry, I was thinking out loud.”

The carriage stopped soon after that, and Will was escorted in to meet briefly with the officers. Things had gone according to plan thus far, and the meeting was kept short. Afterward he had to tour the fort and then make a quick round through the five division camps outside the fort. ‘Quick’ was a relative term, however, for it took several hours, and by the end Will was exhausted.

It was a weird feeling. In the past he’d never associated the word exhausted with anything but hard labor. He’d done nothing but walk, observe, and listen, yet he felt tired.

The next day began with a much longer and more comprehensive meeting of the senior officers—sub-marshals and commanders—along with their senior staff. Most of what was discussed had been planned in prior months, so there weren’t really many decisions to be made. The army was like a vast behemoth, already in motion, and there was little Will could do now but ride its momentum. It gave him a new appreciation for the limits of power.

As a rank-and-file soldier, small things had seemed vastly more important, and likewise the power of those in positions of authority, but now, while he could certainly affect many small things for many people, his ability to change the overall course of the army was severely restricted. Sure, he could technically give any orders he wished, but if he tried to unilaterally stop the war or change their timeline in a significant way, he didn’t doubt he would be removed within a matter of weeks or months.

I can do anything I want, so long as what I want fits within the general plan, he realized ruefully. It didn’t help that he’d been part of the planning. Aside from taking a sea route, an overland attack from Barrowden was the only practical way to invade Darrow. That meant their route was easily predicted by the enemy. It also meant the enemy’s response was fairly predictable.

It almost felt as if the whole thing were preordained, and Will’s actions merely gave the illusion of free will. Whether he was capable or incompetent hardly seemed to matter. Laina noticed his gloomy mood the evening of their second day at the fort, and she asked him about it in her typically considerate manner. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He explained his vague misgivings as clearly as he could.

“Oh. I forget this is your first time. You’re right and you’re wrong. You’ll get over it in time,” she pronounced.

“You’ve never been responsible for an army,” he replied.

Laina scowled at him. “I’ve been responsible for the Mothers of Terabinia for a few years now. It’s not an army, but I think leading any large group of people has similar problems. There has to be a leader, but a leader can only do so much. The bigger the group, the bigger the momentum, and the smaller your choices seem, even though they affect thousands.”

Will nodded. “That’s true enough.”

“But you’ll get used to it, and in time you’ll start to realize that you’re making more of a difference than you thought.”

“Unless I screw it up,” he observed.

Laina shrugged. “I said ‘difference.’ Whether it’s a good or a bad one is up to you.”

His lips quirked into a wry smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m just here because a certain someone insisted that you come back alive.”

“Speaking of which, we leave the day after tomorrow,” he told her. “From that point on you’ll have to wear your armor every day while we travel.”

She squinted at him. “We haven’t met the enemy yet, plus we’ll be in the carriage—at the rear. What’s the point of making me suffer so early in this war?”

“I won’t be in the carriage,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I’ll be riding out in the open, and I plan to stay close to the lead elements. You can ride in the carriage if you want, but if you intend to be with me, you’ll have to wear the armor.”

“Oh.” Laina didn’t argue. Though it was obvious she’d rather not ride, Will hoped she wouldn’t complain, and as it turned out, Laina proved to be remarkably resilient.

The next day passed quickly, and they set out the day after, staying with the lead regiment of First Division. As the division included over five thousand men by itself, and since they were forced to travel a narrow road through the mountains, the other divisions were far out of sight. When they stopped for the evening it would be almost eight hours before Sixth Division arrived. Because of that, the army could only travel for eight hours each day before the lead division would stop and begin preparing the ground for the rest of the army to camp. That included minor earthworks followed by some hunting and scavenging.

Of course, there wasn’t anywhere near enough game to make much of a dent in the army’s daily food requirement, but every bit helped. Once they were out of the mountains and into the lowlands, the hunting duty would change to persuading locals to sell their crops and livestock for fair prices. Lustral had been adamant that they should simply take whatever they found, but Will had remained firm on the point, although the definition of a ‘fair’ price would be lower than the usual market value.

‘Sell’ was a debatable term as well, since they wouldn’t be giving the farmers much of a choice, but it was better than simply stealing what they wanted. Will’s argument was again that they weren’t there to destroy the nation, or oppress it, but rather to take stewardship and replace a bad ruler with a better one. Lustral and some of the other officers might have thought Will was crazy, but he didn’t care, and it was his opinion that counted in the end.

At the end of the third day’s ride, they had reached a fork in the mountain road. Each fork took a different route around two large mountains, but their final destination was the same, the city of Klendon. The northern road was a longer route and would require an extra day’s travel while the southern road was better and shorter.

The enemy knew they were coming. They’d known for months, if not longer, and they knew Terabinia’s army would have to take one of the two roads. That meant there was a high probability of an ambush or other obstacles no matter which path they chose. During the planning sessions, they had decided to follow the longer northern road, but Will had a surprise for the officers.

When they met that evening, he explained that he intended to change plans and follow the southern road. Objectively, it was quicker and easier, but his main reason was simply that if there had been any information leaks the enemy would be less likely to expect them on that road. Predictably, it was Duke Lustral who complained the most.

“What’s the point in changing our route now?” demanded the nobleman.

Will refused to let his feathers be ruffled. “What’s the point in arguing against it?”

Lustral’s scowl deepened. “They’re more likely to expect us on the better road.”

“You can argue that all day long. They’ll also expect that we might choose the road less travelled. They can’t know which way we’ll go.”

“Then why bother changing it now?” asked the duke.

“Because they might have caught wind of our plans. They won’t have time to readjust if I change them now,” said Will calmly.

Lustral waved his hand at the other marshals and commanders. “You think one of us might be a traitor?”

Will shrugged. “I don’t need to justify myself to you. Nor does it necessarily follow that one of you might be a traitor. There are plenty of methods for obtaining such information that don’t require betrayal on your part,” he replied.

“If you’re suggesting my loyalty is in question then you risk facing a challenge,” growled Lustral. Will didn’t flinch, merely waiting, his face empty of expression as he stared evenly into Lustral’s eyes. Eventually the duke looked away. “If not, then let me reiterate my advice. We should take the northern road. It’s longer and less travelled, and it’s my belief they’re less likely to have prepared it against us.”

“Your opinion is duly noted. We take the southern road tomorrow,” Will pronounced. “Meeting adjourned.”

Will woke well before dawn the next morning. Because of the massive army’s extended schedule, First Division’s day started two hours before dawn, whereas Sixth Division wouldn’t be rising until two hours after dawn. This was all to accommodate the fact that the road and its verges could only admit so many men and wagons through a given mile at any given time.

Breaking camp was somewhat quicker than making it, and the army was moving within an hour of waking, trudging through the dim twilight of false dawn that preceded the true dawn an hour later. Laina rode to his left, while Renly and Darla followed a short distance behind them. Conversation was limited by the fact that none of them were in the mood, given the hour.

After the sun came up Gregory Nicht, the sub-marshal with command over First and Second Division, came alongside them. The young man seemed to have gained vitality since they had left Barrowden, for there was a spark in his eye and energy in his voice. “Do you think we’ll make contact today?” asked the young baron.

Spoken like someone who’s never seen the awful results of war, thought Will sourly. Then again, maybe I’m just pissed because I didn’t sleep well. “I certainly hope not,” he replied somberly. “If we start fighting in the highlands, it will be messy.”

Baron Fulstrom rubbed his patchy beard, doubtless he hoped it would get thicker with age. It was probably meant to make him look older, but the downy fuzz failed its purpose. “True, but if they stopped us here, we couldn’t get around them without backtracking.”

“Sixth is still rolling up their bedding,” said Will. “They could take the other road and be behind them in a few days, faster than we could even if they weren’t blocking us.”

“Unless they blocked both roads,” mused the baron.

“Except we began the campaign before they were ready. The scouts all returned last night, and both roads were clear from Klendon to our position. They would have to have had all their forces poised at Klendon, with better intelligence than we have, for that to happen.”

“True. But what if—”

Will growled. “You were at the meeting last night Sub-marshal. We went over this. If you had a substantive concern with our plan, you should have brought it up then.”

“Sorry,” said the sub-marshal. “I’m just excited and my mind is racing. When that happens I can’t keep my tongue from flapping. I just start rambling.” Gregory glanced at Will, noting his sour face. “Are you under the weather?”

“I’m grumpy as hell,” grumbled Will, causing Laina to snicker for a moment. “Getting up and riding in the freezing cold is bad enough, but doing it on the way to a war makes it even worse.”

The sub-marshal grinned. He seemed to be one of those who would acknowledge someone else’s mood, but still didn’t know they should be quiet. “I heard a lot about your exploits during the invasion of Barrowden. Aren’t you looking forward to giving the Darrowans another dose of their own medicine?”

Will didn’t say anything for several minutes, creating an uncomfortable silence that dragged on and on. Baron Fulstrom had resigned himself to the lack of conversation when Will suddenly spoke again. “Have you ever beaten a man to death with a club, Sub-Marshal?”

The sub-marshal blinked. “Pardon?”

“Have you ever snuck up on someone who was asleep on watch, then beaten them to death with a staff? Not just the first fellow either, but his friend who came to his defense a moment later—I did. I’m not sure if the second one died from the bludgeoning, or if he froze to death in the snow later since he couldn’t walk with all the broken bones.”

Gregory Nicht stared at him, unsure how to respond.

“No one ever realizes how long it takes either. Sometimes you get lucky and they die quickly, but most of the time they don’t. They struggle and cry, putting arms, legs, anything they can in the way to defend themselves. Of course, you’ll be too scared, to caught by the adrenaline to stop, but you still hear it all, and later on, when you try to sleep, it will all come back to you. And you’ll wonder who they were, what their lives were like. They were probably just ordinary people, drafted to war and put on sentry duty. They just happened to be in the way when I needed to get past them to survive.”

“It isn’t all like that—” began the sub-marshal.

“No, some of it is worse,” Will said, cutting him off. “Whether you’re trapped in a shield wall, or sitting on a horse a hundred yards back watching the men who trusted you die in front of you. No one gets out without scars, inside and out.” He locked eyes with Gregory for a few seconds, then added, “You’ve probably heard that war makes men out of boys, haven’t you? That’s what they say. It’s one reason you’re excited about all this. But it isn’t true. War takes children and turns them into casualties, survivors, and some of them it makes into monsters.”

Will pointed behind them in the direction of the other five divisions that followed them unseen in the distance. “The best I can do in this job is try to make sure as many of them as possible are survivors, and the ones that become monsters I’ll have to cull, irrespective of whether we win or lose. Their lives are my responsibility, just as First Division is yours, Gregory.” Then he pointed forward, down the mountain. “Ahead of us are thousands of other lives that will soon rest on our shoulders, men, women, and children who may perish when the soldiers we command meet them.

“If you want to become a man, grow something, raise something, take care of someone else. That’s true for anyone becoming an adult, men and women. The only time war enters into it is if you’re trying to protect people, and you’d best make sure not to forget that. The moment your war becomes an attempt to gain glory, or it harms more than it protects, you’ve gone from hero to monster.”

The sub-marshal didn’t attempt to reply, but he looked thoughtful. A short while later, one of the captains rode up with a problem and the sub-marshal took it as an excuse to find somewhere else to be. After a few minutes, Laina reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a long, metal canister and offered it to her brother. “Here.”

“What is it?” Will asked.

“Tea. I’m assuming you didn’t have any this morning.”

He opened the lid and drank directly from the container, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Was it that obvious?”

“I just hope you use a different speech when it comes time to rally the troops before battle, otherwise they’ll be more likely to fall on their swords than fight the enemy,” Laina replied. “Actually, come to think of it, you may want to have someone keep an eye on the young baron for a few days, just in case.”

Will snorted. “Maybe I overdid it. Morning isn’t my favorite time.” Then something else popped into his mind. “Don’t forget, everyone in magical support will be camping with First Division tonight. We should eat with them instead of the officers, since they’ll be splitting back up and returning to the other units day after tomorrow.”

Laina frowned. “Remind me again why they’re all coming to First Division for one day.”

“There’s a long, narrow section of road tomorrow and apparently the sides are steeply elevated. By all accounts it would be a good place for an ambush, if they can put one together quickly enough.”

“You just told the sub-marshal that the Prophet doesn’t have a sizable force close enough to do anything yet,” she pointed out.

He nodded. “It doesn’t have to be very many. A couple of sorcerers could produce a rockslide and cause us all kind of trouble.” Remembering what had happened to him and Selene made the possibility all too real.

“Tonight should be fun then,” said Laina. “You’ll get to see your friend too.”

He already knew who she meant. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

She pointed at her eyes, then at him. “I’m watching you.”

Will sighed. “Janice already has her sights set on someone else. Plus, I’m taken, if you’ve forgotten.”

“Women have layers, brother dear,” she answered affectionately. “We’re like onions. Never think that just because you’ve seen one layer you know anything about what lies beneath.”

“Humans are humans. Men and women aren’t that different.”

Laina laughed. “And that is why I’m here as your bodyguard. You’re incredibly talented, brother mine, but you have some glaring blind spots.”

Chapter 25

Will stared suspiciously at the road ahead. Not only was it now barely wide enough for a single wagon, but over the course of the next quarter mile the hills rose steeply on either side of it. Scouts had been sent out the night before, and they’d returned safely in the morning with nothing particular to report. At the extreme end of their ride, they’d seen a few campfires in the distance, probably enemy scouts or light elements of the Darrowan military withdrawing toward the walled safety of Klendon.

All he could be relatively sure of was that there wasn’t a sizeable force of the enemy in the vicinity, but still the narrow road made him nervous. Gregory Nicht edged his horse closer, then asked, “Ready to proceed?”

Will held up a hand. He was watching two other figures ride toward him from the rear of the column. “Almost.” When the two men had reached him, he studied their faces. “Is everyone in place?”

Emory Tallowen answered first. “Right side is ready, sir.” Burke Leighton’s response came a second later. “We’re ready on the left side as well.”

Will nodded, then looked at Janice, who was sitting atop a piebald mare on his left. “Maybe I should take the front. I’d feel better with you on the tail end of this snake.”

She rolled her eyes. “The middle of the first column is the best we’ll allow you,” she replied, glancing at Laina, who was clearly in agreement. “The very reason you’re nervous about me being there is exactly why you cannot be.”

Laina chuckled. “Never fear, my lord. I’ll keep you safe in the center.”

He ignored the jibe and raised his voice for Gregory’s ears. “Start the advance, Sub-Marshal.”

The baron motioned toward the signalman, who promptly raised his horn and blew a short series of notes. First Division began moving forward in a narrow line, and Janice went with them, just a few horses behind the very lead. Will and the others waited behind. It would be almost half an hour before the middle, their portion of the column, would pass, at which time they’d begin to move as well.

“Seems like a lot of effort for one section of the road,” remarked Laina when they finally were able to move. Burke and Emory had already left, moving with a slightly earlier portion of the column. “Are you sure it’s necessary?”

“I hope it isn’t,” said Will. “But if they’ve rigged up some way to collapse part of the hillside onto us, we could lose hundreds of soldiers and weeks clearing the road or retracing our steps. The risk is too great to ignore. This is the best solution I could come up with.” He watched as the companies marched by, a sorcerer on either side of the line, spaced out at intervals of fifty yards.

Eventually the first half of First Division was past, and Will and Laina took their places on either side of the marching soldiers. “Don’t worry,” called Laina from the other side. “Janice and the lead company should be at the end of the narrow part by now. If there was a trap or an ambush, they’d have tripped it by now.” She smiled reassuringly at him then absently pushed back a strand of golden hair that had escaped from her helm.

They’d only ridden a few dozen feet when a deep rumble shivered through the ground. Something had happened ahead. Already looking at his sister, Will saw Laina’s expression shift from smile to worried frown as she felt the vibration run from the ground, through her horse, and into her chest. Vividly he saw the sun reflecting from her helm as her eyes turned to him, and then something slammed into his back and the world went black.

Will found himself tumbling through the air as his horse suddenly disappeared from beneath him. The air changed from black to brown as dirt and soil rained down around him and sunlight began to penetrate the thick cloud of earth. Then the ground made itself known as Will landed on his right shoulder. There’d been a sound, he was fairly certain of that, but he couldn’t hear anything over the loud buzzing in his ears. The air continued to vibrate in his chest, and the earth under his back was rumbling.

Somehow, he got back to his feet, though his balance seemed to be off and nothing made sense. Something blew up, said a quiet voice in his head, and the continued rumbling is probably a rockslide. He felt something fall on his shoulder, and when he glanced down, he saw a streak of red on his breastplate as someone’s hand tumbled away from him and fell to the ground. In the back of his mind he noted that it wasn’t a woman’s hand, so it was probably from one of the soldiers. Laina! Fear finally made itself known as he realized his half-sister might well be scattered across the nearby terrain.

Summoning up the turyn within, Will opened his mouth and shouted, amplifying his voice instinctively, “Force-walls up!” His voice seemed strangely muted, but he could feel the power of it as his command rang out. He only hoped some of the others could still hear well enough to react to his order.

Dirt and pebbles continued to rain down around him for several seconds while a helpful breeze pushed some of the dust cloud away so Will could see. Dark shapes covered the roadway, shapes that turned out to be men and horses. They’d been tossed up haphazardly and dropped in random piles. Many were dead, but worse still were those that hadn’t finished dying yet. As his hearing began to return, his ears were flooded with the cries of men and horses, some missing limbs, while others had been pierced or had their bones broken by a variety of jagged stones.

A shallow crater stood in the road, just between where Will and Laina had been riding on either side of the column. Of the soldiers who had been standing there, none had survived. Will scrambled across, searching for his sister while simultaneously yelling orders that were probably useless. “Ware the hills! Find the wounded! Where is the sub-marshal?” His voice seemed to act almost independently, while his eyes scanned the ground for a piebald mare and a woman in mail. He found her bodyguard, Darla, first, unconscious but without serious visible injury, other than a large lump on her head. The Arkeshi’s horse was missing, probably a good sign, since it meant the beast had probably lived.

Seconds later he spotted Laina’s piebald mare lying on the roadside. A portion of the horse’s neck was missing, torn away by whatever rock had gone through. Where is Laina? As he circled the dead horse, he saw her helm, gold hair sticking out from the fringes. She was under the mare. No, no, no…

A mixture of relief and simultaneous horror passed over him when her head turned, and her eyes found his. She’s alive! He guessed she was still in shock, but the weight of the horse had to be crushing the life out of her, not to mention whatever other injuries he couldn’t see yet. “Someone get over here! Help me move this horse!” he yelled, but it was a fruitless order. Everyone nearby was in bad shape or still beginning to sort out what had happened, and even if there had been people close by, he couldn’t imagine how they would move a dead horse quickly enough to save her.

Thoughts of using the grave-digging spell to excavate the ground beneath her ran through his head, but his body was already moving. Even as he continued to formulate and discard plans, his hands took hold of the mare’s legs and he began trying to lift and roll the massive pile of dead equine flesh. To his surprise, it moved slightly, giving him hope, so he channeled his turyn into his muscles and worked harder. The ground seemed to favor him since it sloped away in the direction he was trying to move the animal. Will felt a strange popping sensation in his ribs and back, but the horse moved, and soon he was able to drag Laina away from the beast.

Blood ran from her lips, but her body seemed to be in one piece, without holes or missing limbs. Laina’s ribs had almost certainly been broken, but she still breathed. Wasting no time, he summoned a regeneration potion from the limnthal and poured the foul fluid between her lips. He wasn’t sure if she could swallow properly, but he knew from experience that even if she choked, the potion would do vastly more good than harm.

Someone tapped his arm, and Will looked over to see the sub-marshal beside him. “Will she live?” The young baron’s eyes were showing a lot of white and the man had a wildness in his expression.

“I believe so,” said Will. “What’s the rest of the column look like?”

“There were more explosions like this one, spaced out along the road. I can see three from here, but they may go all the way to the end for all we know.”

“Get a messenger on a horse and send them ahead. We need to know!” barked Will, but then another thought came to him. He glanced at Laina, then back to the sub-marshal. “Find someone to watch over her. She’s healing, but she probably won’t wake up for hours.” Then he put together the spell construct for his elemental travel-disk and pushed some turyn into it. He felt even less drain on his turyn than usual, and it was then that he noticed his breastplate shifting colors. A moment before, it had been a shimmering black, on the verge of bursting into ebon flames, but now it faded to a more sedate shadowy matte hue. It must be easier to replace my turyn when I have a concentrated source close to me, he mused.

Pushing that thought aside, he stepped onto the travel-disk and shot away, speeding downhill over the heads of his still recovering soldiers. It was quickly apparent that Gregory had been right, there were small craters spaced every fifty yards or so along the road. Those who had been directly over one of the explosions suffered badly, while those at moderate distances had merely been stunned and bewildered.

Several hundred yards down the road, he found the source of the continued rumbling. A landslide had indeed been started, whether deliberately or as a result of the explosions on the road he couldn’t say. It had swept down along more than a hundred yards of the road on the right-hand side, and it probably would have swept a sizeable portion of First Division away but for the force-walls holding it at bay. Will felt a sense of pride and satisfaction seeing his students perform so well, but he had no time to indulge himself in his feelings.

A few of the sorcerers had been killed by the explosions, and in a couple of places the rockslide had been allowed to sweep through, killing those unlucky enough to be caught in it. The rock and earth was settling against the force-walls, and while it had lost its momentum releasing the spells would still result in some trouble depending on how much earth and stone had piled up against them. Will noticed one sorcerer from the left-hand side using his earth elemental to fuse and stabilize the broken detritus so his fellow sorcerer could release his spell.

It was an excellent idea, and one that needed to be shared. “Those who are free, if you have an earth elemental, help stabilize things so the others can release their force-walls,” he bellowed, amplifying his voice. The temperature dropped, and a chilly wind followed in the wake of his announcement. Coincidence? Or a side effect of my sound manipulation? Every day he had more questions.

Seeing that the situation was improving, Will continued on, until he reached the head of the column. A large crater there indicated an even larger explosion, and he saw bodies and horses scattered around it like broken dolls. From above it looked surreal, but he knew he wasn’t dreaming.

Scanning the area with his eyes, he saw no sign of enemy forces, so he descended and found Janice in the midst of the carnage, alive and unhurt. She was already organizing the other survivors, but there was obvious relief in her eyes when she saw him descend. “How bad is it further along?” she asked as soon as he was within earshot.

“Not as bad as this, but similar, every fifty yards, all the way back to the beginning of the narrow section,” he replied. “Were you farther back when it went off?” he asked.

She shook her head. “There was a man in the road. I rode forward with two squads. It seemed like he wanted to parley.” She paused and Will could see survivor’s guilt written on her face as she looked over at the bodies around the crater. “When we were almost to him, he pulled out a sheet of parchment and I saw the runes glowing on it. I didn’t have time to think. I put a force-dome around myself, but everyone else…” Her voice tapered off.

“You did the only thing you could,” he told her, knowing it was cold comfort.

Things got chaotic after that. Will returned to the middle of the column, where the sub-marshal had reestablished some semblance of order. The dead were counted and lined up, while the wounded were identified and given preliminary treatment until they could be moved back down the line. The supply camp that followed behind Sixth Division contained a sizeable medical group for just that purpose.

Thanks to the efforts of Will’s sorcerers, most of the road was still clear and their elementals were able to rapidly clean up the small sections that had been covered with rocks and to fill in the craters that would impede wagon travel.

The First was delayed by almost two hours, but it began moving again, though it was slightly smaller. They’d lost two hundred and seventy-two men, and close to three hundred more had been badly wounded. It was their first taste of war, and First Division was already down by a tenth of its soldiers.

Will had intended to march for several more hours after getting by the narrow section of road, but they stopped early, moving into an area of wide empty land and making camp. First needed time to bury its dead, while the wounded would be sent back, their part in the war already done. That was the grim reality that few thought about when it came to supply lines. An open supply line wasn’t just a channel for food and supplies to flow to an army, it was also a channel for the wounded to be transported back home.

It was also soon apparent that Will’s own body hadn’t escaped unharmed. While the breastplate had protected him from whatever had struck his chest, he had apparently hurt himself after the explosion. Roughly an hour after the first shock, he found himself nearly unable to move—his back was in agony. It took him several minutes of reflection before he connected his current pain to what he had done to move the dead horse. Although he loathed to do so, he was forced to use yet another of his precious regeneration potions; otherwise he might have been incapacitated for days or weeks.

He had some empty time while camp was being set up and before the other senior officers arrived for the inevitable evening meeting regarding the day’s disaster, so he used the time for a short nap to recuperate his energy after the potion. An hour later he awoke feeling much better, so he activated the limnthal and shared his news with Arrogan.

When he had finished describing things, his mentor’s first question was about the explosions. “Do you know if they used spell-bombs or alchemy?”

“Janice saw someone use an activation enchantment before everything blew up, but that doesn’t mean anything,” answered Will. He knew about the alchemical possibility from his studies, and he’d read about spell-bombs in the military histories, though he knew nothing of how they were constructed. “It could have been alchemical blasting powder or enchanted spell-bombs. Is there a way to tell, and does it make a practical difference?”

“For what they did, there’s not much functional difference, but knowing what method they used will give you a better idea of what they might be capable of in the future. Blasting powder is versatile and easier to produce, but the strength of the explosion is limited. Spell-bombs can get much, much worse than what you described, but they require a lot of time and skill to produce. If that’s what it was then your enemy may have a lot more magical support than you anticipate.”

Will frowned, rubbing his chin. “From the intelligence reports I’ve seen, Darrow’s pool of available sorcerers has been slowly dwindling over the last few decades, possibly longer, which probably means that unlike Terabinia they haven’t had a source of new elementals. It might even be part of the reason they attacked a few years ago; if they realized their position would steadily erode over time, they might have wanted to gamble while they were still strong enough to have a decent chance of winning.”

“That’s good,” replied Arrogan. “I’ve been worried that Lognion might not be the only one who managed to find or revive the secret of the heart-stone enchantment. But if he is the only one who has it then it makes sense that Terabinia has been steadily growing in power while Darrow dwindles.”

“Is there a way to know if it was powder or spell-bombs?” said Will, repeating his earlier question.

“Blasting powder has a distinctive smell that’s easy to recognize if you’ve dealt with it before.”

“I haven’t.”

“Consult the other students. One of them might have some experience with it. If not, some of your officers might be able to tell you.”

Will grimaced. “I’d rather know before the officers meeting. They already think I’m too inexperienced for the job.”

“No one knows everything,” argued his old teacher. “Besides, I didn’t necessarily mean the senior officers. Ask among the lieutenants and captains. There’s a lot more of them, and rank doesn’t necessarily automatically confer greater knowledge or experience. Hell, if they don’t know, ask the sergeants. That’s where you’ll find the most experience in any army.”

He got to his feet, a new purpose driving him forward. “I’ll do that. Thanks.” He left the tent with motivation in his steps.

Chapter 26

He got answers quicker than he anticipated, as it turned out that Emory Tallowen’s family owned several mines. His response was quick and confident. “Blasting powder. Once you’ve smelled it, you can’t forget it. We use it in the mines sometimes, though it’s expensive in Terabinia.”

“If it’s expensive, couldn’t you use spell-bombs instead?” asked Will.

The young nobleman shrugged. “I don’t know, but if that was cheaper, I’m sure Father would use those instead. We buy most of our blasting powder from Trendham, which is probably where the Darrowans got it as well.”

“Couldn’t they just make it?” Will had never examined the recipes for the powder so he had no idea how much it cost to make.

Emory shook his head. “A small amount, but they don’t have the sulfur in Darrow. Neither do we. That’s why everyone buys it from Trendham. They have all the raw materials.” He scratched his chin. “Even so, they spent a lot on that trap. The amount of powder it took to do that—it boggles the mind.”

“Twice as much if they did the same thing on the other road,” observed Will.

Emory frowned. “I doubt it. I can’t imagine even the Patriarch would be willing to spend that much on something that might not be used. I bet they knew we were coming this way.”

But no one knew the route I’d chosen, thought Will quietly. I didn’t tell anyone until the day before we reached the fork. They must have found out right then if they were going to reposition it, or there wouldn’t have been time. He chewed his lip, trying to make sense of things. Could there be a spy among one of the staffers to the senior commanders? Or even more unthinkable, could one of the senior officers be a spy?

He patted Emory’s shoulder. “Thanks for the information.”

“Anything else you need?”

Will thought about the six sorcerers who’d died, in addition to the three who were wounded, then said, “Keep me updated on the sorcerers who were wounded and send in Lieutenant Renly when you step out.”

Emory left, and Renly appeared a moment later. “You needed me, sir?”

“I need four scouts sent along the road we didn’t take.”

“It could take considerable time for them to backtrack, then follow the other road and return the same way again,” cautioned the lieutenant.

Will shook his head. “No, send them forward along with the scouts were we sending anyway. “Have them go almost to Klendon then head back up along the other road. They don’t necessarily need to return by dawn with the others, so it’s all right if they take an additional half day or more to get back.”

“What are they looking for? Do you think the enemy has hidden a force to come at us from behind when we reach Klendon?”

“No. We had scouts through there just a few days ago. I want them to look for signs of digging. Places where the Darrowans may have removed explosive caches like the ones that caught us today.”

“Very well, sir.” Renly started to turn, but Will stopped him.

“This is between us, lieutenant,” Will commanded. “These four scouts are to report to me alone and they aren’t to tell anyone else of the alteration to their orders. Understood?”

A flash of puzzlement crossed Renly’s face, but he hid it quickly, then saluted. “Yes, sir.”

***

The senior officers’ meeting started with a somber air that was soon replaced with tension once Field Marshal Lustral began making his thoughts known. “We haven’t even seen the enemy yet and we’ve already had one division decimated.”

Will ground his teeth. Technically the duke’s statement was true. While the Terabinian army as a whole was still relatively fine, First Division had effectively lost one-tenth of its fighting capacity. “We all regret the loss, but we have to move forward and make their deaths count—”

“We? Begging your pardon, Marshal, but the decision to take the southern road was yours alone. Their deaths are on your head. Did I not counsel you to keep to our original plan?” argued Lustral.

Angry, Will stared into the man’s eyes. “You did indeed. When this is over, I will take full responsibility for our losses.”

Mark Nerrow spoke before things could get worse. “Let us focus on tomorrow. Nothing will be gained by lamenting past mistakes.”

“Unless we repeat them,” said Lustral bitingly.

Will knew he couldn’t let the man continue, so he spoke up quickly. “Are you finished? We have work to do. When this is all over, you’ll have all the time in the world to make your complaints to the king.”

A faint smirk passed across the duke’s lips, but he acquiesced. “Please, let us continue.”

Will contained his anger and pressed on, “Tomorrow evening we will reach Klendon. From previous reports, we think that our enemy spent the past year fortifying and expanding the garrison there, but the city can still only contain its sparse count of citizens and three or four thousand soldiers at most. The Patriarch could conceivably plan to face us with his main army there, but they would have to fight us on the plain around the city, and given our almost certain numerical superiority that would be a foolish game.

“Because of this, we believe he will instead seal up Klendon and count on us spending time and resources trying to take the city stronghold,” said Will, finishing the summary.

Commander Hargast spoke first. “There are three bridges that connect Klendon to the rest of Darrow. I said this last time, but perhaps you would reconsider—we should ignore the city, cross the river, and destroy the bridges behind us. That would eliminate the threat from the rear.”

“And cut us off from our supply lines,” countered Sub-Marshal Nerrow.

Lustral interceded, “If we take up a more aggressive campaign, we could take what we need from the Darrowan citizenry…”

“No,” said Will firmly. “We need an intact supply line. We’re trying to annex Darrow, not burn it to the ground. While the fortified city is a potential thorn in our side, it would be an even greater asset as a staging center for logistics on this side of the mountains.”

Commander Lambel spoke next. “We could spend a year on that endeavor! The city is old and well supplied. There’s no practical method to take it other than a siege, and to do that we’d need to cut the bridges.”

Mark Nerrow nodded. “Meanwhile the Patriarch’s main army will be harassing us continually. Even with the bridges cut, they can ford the river in small groups at multiple points. With a well-defended city in front of us and continual attacks from behind we would die a death of a thousand cuts.”

“What do you suggest then?” asked Will.

“Annihilate the city,” said his father without hesitation. “The city garrison is a tenth our size and their complement of sorcerers is very likely also a tenth of ours. Bring our elementals to bear on the city and destroy it entirely. No strategy, no fighting, no losses, we raze it to the ground, and if it turns out the city has some defense to protect it from brute magical attacks there are rituals we could use.”

Will felt a shiver run down his spine. He remembered his one occasion to be part of a ritual, and despite himself he wanted to do it again. The feeling of power had been unlike anything he’d experienced before. It was addictive. In his mind’s eye, he could imagine it already. The currents flowing around him while he wielded powers beyond imagining to wipe the enemy city from existence. Closing his eyes, he got his emotions under control and tried to reply with reason, “While that is an attractive option, I would prefer—”

“We have the necessary knowledge with us,” interrupted Sub-Marshal Nerrow. “The king allowed me to bring full documentation of the strategic rituals we might need, as well as an advisor to help us implement them.”

Will felt his face flush as his temper rose. His father hadn’t mentioned any of that previously—and he should have. “An advisor?”

“Elizabeth Sundy, a senior researcher from Wurthaven,” said Nerrow. “She has accompanied my staff.”

Will’s words had a hard edge as he replied, “In future, I’d appreciate it if you kept me informed of such important matters beforehand.”

“You have to admit the idea has merit, though,” interjected Lustral.

Sadly, it did, but Will had other ideas. In fact, he’d spent most of his time thinking about the problem from the first time he’d heard it put to him at one of the early planning sessions. He gave Lustral an earnest look, then asked, “Assuming we don’t do that, how do you see the enemy reacting when we approach the city?”

“They’ll leave the bridges intact, since that’s where their relief will come from. They’ll hope that we waste our time and men besieging the city, but if we bypass it and move on to cross the bridges, they will sally forth to sabotage our supply lines. They might even burn the bridges behind us to strand us within Darrow,” said the duke.

“And if we do lay siege to the city, while leaving the bridges intact?” asked Will.

“That’s the best outcome for them,” said Lustral. “Their main army will arrive to attack us from the rear, pinning us against the rock of Klendon. In the best case we might annihilate their army, but our own losses would be so great we would have no choice but to withdraw back to Terabinia afterward.”

Will nodded, then asked, “And if their army came over the bridges to attack our flanks, what would the city do?” He’d already thought it all through several times and discussed it with Arrogan, but he wanted to hear what the experts thought of the situation.

Lustral became hesitant after hearing the tone in Will’s voice. “They might decide to play it safe, but—”

Commander Hargast broke in, “But they would be foolish to miss the opportunity. With their main army on one side they could maximize the damage to us by attacking us from the other side when we turned to face them. Our losses would multiply quickly. We might even be driven into a complete rout.”

Which is exactly what I was thinking too, Will told himself silently. “I’ve made up my mind. We’ll set up a cordon around the city, but we’ll position our main body in front of the city gates. Let them think we intend to try a frontal assault.”

Sub-Marshal Nerrow frowned. “If we’re going to use a ritual, it would be best to do it from the western side. The main gate is on the east side of the city, in the direction of the bridges. It’s not a particularly defensible position with the possibility of their relief coming in behind us.”

Commander Lambel, usually quiet, spoke for the first time. “Unless you’re planning to destroy the bridges and you have some way to bring down the gates.”

Will looked around the room, feeling the weight of thousands of lives descend on his shoulders. Did he trust the men in the tent with him? Some, yes, he thought, looking at his father, but definitely not all. His plan for Klendon only had one chance of working, and if the enemy guessed his intention, it would fail with no effort on their part required. The downside of keeping the officers in the dark was that they might refuse to accept his orders if they thought he was being deliberately suicidal.

If he had a reputation, or experience, they might trust him to play his cards close to his chest, but Will had neither. He would have to lie. Give them enough that they’ll agree, but not enough that they might guess the plan. He met Lambel’s gaze as he answered, “No, we need the bridges. I have something else in mind that will force the city commander to surrender.”

“And what miracle would this be?” asked Lustral in annoyance.

“You’ll see in due time,” Will answered curtly, then directed his attention to Mark Nerrow. “Sub-marshal, I’d like you to remain behind so we can discuss certain items in private.”

Hargast and Lambel’s eyes went wide with shock. Then Hargast asked, “You intend some secret strategy, but you won’t include us in the planning? How can that work?”

Lustral jumped in immediately, “After the debacle on the road today you think we’ll trust you?”

Will had two options for dealing with that remark. He could take Lustral head on and threaten the man, something he would probably have to do eventually anyway, but it was too soon. He didn’t have the respect of the others yet. If he started a fight, it would undermine his own position. “I’m sure all of you trust Mark Nerrow. The magical support he mentioned will be key, so I’d like to keep it on a strictly need-to-know basis, just between the two of us. If he doesn’t like my plan, he won’t go along with it. Even if you don’t trust me, trust his judgment.”

The field marshal started to open his mouth to protest, but Commander Bradshaw put a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Felix,” he said, using Lustral’s first name. “We’re all nervous, but I trust Mark’s opinion. If he thinks the plan won’t wash, he won’t stay silent.”

Will saw Lambel and Hargast relax slightly as Bradshaw spoke, and he felt sure he’d gotten past the hard part. After a bit more grumbling the meeting was adjourned and the officers returned to their men, leaving Will alone with Sub-Marshal Nerrow.

Before Will could say anything else, Mark said, “Thank you, for the regeneration potion. They told me Laina would surely have died without it.”

He nodded. “It wasn’t even a choice. She’s probably the most important person to me in this army currently.”

“Then our personal priorities are aligned,” said Will’s father. “Although we have to subordinate them to the army’s needs. I hope you have a good plan after all the drama you created during the meeting.”

“I do.”

“Should I call for Scholar Sundy then? She has all the details regarding the rituals we can use.”

Will nodded. “I would like to look at them. Just to see what is available in the future, plus it will help reassure those who doubt me.”

His father’s eyes narrowed. “It sounds as though you don’t intend to use them.”

He hoped honesty was the best course. “That’s correct.”

“Despite our connection, I’m still going to need more information,” said the baron. “Thousands of lives are at stake. I won’t pretend to believe in something if I don’t know what it is. First, let me ask, you think we have a spy among us, don’t you?”

Will nodded again. “The less said about that the better.” He quickly constructed a force-dome around them and spent a minute examining the area around them, to be sure no astral witnesses were present. “I have suspicions, but I don’t want to talk about them until I know something concrete. I’ll tell you what I plan for Klendon, though.”

“I’m guessing this means I’m the only one you trust,” said the sub-marshal ruefully.

“We’ve had our differences, but I don’t doubt your intentions,” said Will.

“Trust is a rare commodity for someone in your position, William, but be careful in giving it out. I’m glad you trust me, but in your place, I’m not sure if I would have done the same.”

“If I can’t trust you then I have even bigger problems. Now, down to brass tacks. First, I have to insist that even after I confide in you, I’ll want you to keep the plan secret even from your own staff. I don’t want any instructions issued or officers brought into this until the last possible moment, which will probably be after we’re in position at Klendon.” He began explaining, slowly and carefully.

Mark Nerrow listened seriously, and though he asked for clarification several times, he didn’t argue or debate. At the end he made several suggestions, which Will thought might help refine his idea, so he agreed.

“It’s a sound stratagem,” said his father, “with a fair chance of success, but the potential risk is high. If it falls apart, the losses will be extreme. We probably wouldn’t have the resources left to continue the campaign, and after returning to Terabinia the blame will fall squarely on your shoulders. Have you considered that?”

“Not only mine,” Will pointed out. “As the person who vouchsafed for me, there might be serious consequences for you as well.”

The sub-marshal raised one brow. “Are you trying to talk me out of supporting you?”

“Just giving you the same consideration,” said Will, smiling faintly. “Though it’s clear you’ve already made your choice.”

Mark Nerrow grinned. “I’d say the chances are better that we’ll succeed. The potential risk is great, but the reward justifies taking the chance. Let’s call Scholar Sundy. You still need to see the rituals she’s brought.”

“And we need her advice about the bridges,” Will reminded.

“Even so.”

Chapter 27

It was late by the time Elizabeth Sundy and Mark Nerrow returned to their own tents and Will was finally left to his own devices. It had been a long day and he was exhausted, but tired or not, he still had more to do. He’d planned to have Laina and Darla guard him for his forays into the astral, but both of those notables were still recovering, so he made do with letting Lieutenant Renly know he wasn’t to be disturbed and setting an extra guard outside his tent.

Then he settled comfortably onto his field cot and closed off his senses. He was steadily improving, and it took him only a minute or so before he felt his spirit come free from his body. As was often the case, he found himself hovering beside Selene, though she wasn’t the target for his activity. The heart wants what it wants, he thought.

She was sitting at the dressing table in their bedroom, combing out her hair. Will allowed himself a moment to watch her, but before he could focus his attention on his actual target, Selene glanced up with a curious expression.

“I shouldn’t,” she said aloud, her hand stopping over her heart. “But what if something’s happened?”

Curious, Will continued to watch, and after a second, he realized what she was doing, for he felt a sudden warmth in the region he would normally associate with his chest. She’s trying to talk to me through the heart-stone enchantment, he realized. Did she sense me somehow? Did my presence make her think of me?

He didn’t think he could talk to her while away from his body, so he returned and forced himself back into his numb flesh. A second later he saw his wife’s face appear in front of him. “Are you all right?” she asked. “It took you a long time to respond.”

“I’m fine,” he told her. “We had some excitement today, but I’m none the worse for wear.”

“What happened?”

Will could already see perspiration beginning to appear on her forehead, and he debated leaving her in the dark. She would want a full explanation, and he didn’t like to think about how exhausted she would be afterward. Then again, he had promised to keep her up to date. “I’ll be quick, because I know this wears you down.” Talking rapidly, he launched into an abbreviated account of the explosive traps and their losses. He left out the specifics regarding Laina and himself. Selene would have insisted on extensive details if she found out they’d been wounded.

In the end we suffered no lasting harm, he told himself. It had taken him just two or three minutes to give her all the important details, and yet he could see Selene was breathing hard. “That’s enough for now,” Will finished. “I love you. Get some rest.”

She nodded tiredly. “Love you too.” Selene released the connection immediately after, a sure sign she was pushing her limits.

Curious, Will returned to the astral plane and went to check on her. Selene was slumped over the dressing table, clearly exhausted. He watched for a minute or so, until she rose unsteadily from her seat and turned toward the bed. She’d forgotten to put down the brush, which fell limply to the floor as she shuffled toward her rest. Her complexion was pallid, and she appeared completely done in.

Just a few more steps, he cheered her on silently. You’re almost to the bed.

Then her foot caught on the rug and she fell. He heard her moan, but she didn’t attempt to rise. A few seconds later, she rolled onto her back and he could see her chest rising and falling. At a guess, he thought she was unconscious, and probably suffering a severe case of turyn depletion.

It was something he’d experienced a few times, but the only time he’d been close to suffering as badly as what he’d just witnessed was his first time, when he’d worn himself out trying to heal a little boy in his village. Selene’s already finished the third compression and she’s had months to adapt. She isn’t getting better.

He would have grimaced, if he hadn’t been a disembodied spirit just then. Feeling helpless, he watched her for half an hour, until he had convinced himself that she wouldn’t stop breathing. Reluctantly, he forced himself to change focus and imagined the face of the man he wanted to see. It wasn’t as easy as finding someone he wanted to see, someone he liked, but the personal connection didn’t necessarily require affection. Any emotion would do. Irritation and annoyance filled him, and after a moment he saw the inside of Field Marshal Lustral’s tent appeared in his vision.

Like Will, the duke looked to be working late. The nobleman sat at a portable table with some sort of writing implement in his hand, though it didn’t look like a regular pen or quill. After watching for a moment, Will realized the material being written upon was unusual as well. It didn’t seem to be parchment, paper, or vellum, but rather some sort of metal square. The implement Lustral held was also a solid metal tool. Is he etching something on the surface? Will wondered. He couldn’t be sure.

Along with his curiosity, Will found his respect for the irritating nobleman grew slightly. He hadn’t expected the pompous ass to possess any serious skills in artifice or enchanting, but obviously he had underestimated the man.

Whatever the man was doing, it didn’t seem to necessarily be nefarious, as Will had suspected. It was unlikely that Lustral would overtly betray the army or his king, and if he did, engaging in something direct like an assassination would be far too risky.

Will waited, hoping to see someone enter, perhaps a messenger. Overhearing a private conversation would be his best bet to find out if Lustral was plotting something, but alas, though Will watched for almost an hour, no one appeared. The field marshal worked on his strange, enchanted square for ten minutes or so, then relaxed for a while before taking his rest. After he extinguished the light spell in his tent, Will gave up and returned to his body. He resolved to return each night thereafter, until he discovered what the man might be up to.

***

It was late afternoon when the vanguard reached Klendon, and they heard horns blowing as the city’s activity rose to a frenzied level. Doubtless the people within were rushing to do everything they could to prepare for the siege that would soon be laid upon the city.

First Division waited until Second and Third had reached them before advancing at a leisurely pace. Per Will’s instructions, they weren’t in any hurry. The city of Klendon occupied a unique location. Although it was on relatively level ground just beyond the foothills where the pass exited the mountains, it was framed by two rivers, which joined one another half a mile to the east of the city and became the River Tyrafel, which led eventually to the city, Maldon, and then let out into the northern sea.

Both the northern and southern roads that led down from the pass approached Klendon from the west, but travelers who wished to enter the city had to travel around the walls to the eastern side, where the main gates were. Klendon presented only a forbidding wall to those approaching from Terabinia.

That meant any army would be forced to pass close to the walls, for the rivers were less than a hundred yards from the city on the northern and southern sides. After passing this gauntlet, an invader would be forced to occupy the field on the eastern side. There was plenty of room there, but no real safety. The northern river had one modest bridge, used by travelers taking the road to Maldon, and the southern portion of the river had two bridges, for those journeying to the capital, Myrsta. One of the southern bridges was wooden, allowing for foot traffic or a single wagon at best, but the other was wide enough for two large wagons to cross abreast of each other.

The stone bridge was supported by heavy stone columns built up from the rock beneath the river. Neither bridge was particularly tall, and the rivers weren’t fast or dangerous, but they were deep. If the bridges were lost then an army would be forced to ford using either ferries or worse, by tying ropes across and swimming the distance. Needless to say, that was a disastrous option given that the opposite bank would be occupied by hostile soldiers.

The land in front of Klendon’s gates was enough to hold First and Second Division, so the rest would stop and complete the siege by remaining on the western side of the city, not that anyone was likely to come to the Darrowans’ aid from the west.

Arrows and stones rained down upon them as First and Second made their way around the city, but with shields and defensive force spells, they were able to pass without casualties. They made sure to avoid getting close enough to the walls for burning oil or similar nastiness to be poured on their heads.

Once the divisions had all taken their places, they began to settle in. Unless the Darrowans attacked, nothing would happen until at least the next day. Will had a lot to do, though. First and Second were commanded by Sub-marshal Nicht and Commander Hargast respectively, so the only other person who knew the full plan, Mark Nerrow, was camped with the rest of the army on the western side of Klendon. Elizabeth Sundy had come with Will, however, and would be in charge of acting as a liaison between him and certain engineers who would have a key role in the upcoming battle.

The real bright spot was that Field Marshal Lustral would be with the larger portion of the army on the western side, so Will wouldn’t have to listen to the man’s constant complaints. Of course, he thinks he’s fortunate as well, since he’s on the safe side while I’m over here in the jaws of the trap. Lustral had made it plain that Will’s choice to position First and Second between the gates of Klendon and the relief forces across the bridges was tantamount to suicide.

It might well be, if Will’s plan fell apart.

Laina sat nearby in the command tent, and she was watching his expression. “You seem strangely cheerful for someone who hates war. Aren’t you anxious?”

He was, but his next meeting was with a friend. “I’m looking forward to seeing Captain Barrentine.”

“Oh. Wasn’t he the knight you served under when you were a peasant?” His sister smirked as she said the last word, knowing it annoyed him. “From what I’ve heard, most soldiers don’t like their officers.”

“Sir Kyle and I became friends later on, but it’s really his squire I’m keen to see,” explained Will.

“His squire?” Laina looked confused, but her puzzlement disappeared a minute later when the captain appeared, and Tiny entered after him. “Oh, of course,” she told herself quietly.

Will and Tiny’s eyes met, and though their expressions showed little, anyone that knew them could see the smiles hidden in their meeting. Although the two friends had been traveling together for nearly a week, it was their first direct meeting. Other than the officers and those soldiers who happened to be in the units nearest at any given moment, Will hadn’t had opportunities to socialize. Similarly, he hadn’t seen his cousin, Eric, and had only interacted with Janice on a few occasions.

Being a newly minted Royal Marshal, surrounded by officers who hardly knew him, and barely trusted him, was a lonely business. If it hadn’t been for Sub-Marshal Nerrow and Laina, he’d have felt almost completely isolated.

But business was business. After brief greetings, Will quickly ran through what he expected of Barrentine’s Company. It took a few minutes, followed by questions, and then another summary before Captain Barrentine was satisfied that he understood the plan and their part in it properly.

“Don’t you think we’ll be too far away when the moment comes?” asked the captain.

“It’ll just be a hundred yards or so,” said Will. Tiny glanced at his captain, then back at Will, his expression easily read by his friend. He thinks I’m being foolish, Will realized, and answered Tiny with a disgusted look. I am not.

Sir Kyle watched the silent exchange, then snorted, before announcing, “Obviously my squire agrees. You don’t realize how great that distance will be when you’re surrounded by enemies and everyone’s trying to kill you.”

Laina chuckled darkly. “He should know by now. Surrounded with everyone trying to kill him? That’s just the start of most weeks for him.” Everyone looked at her and Laina became self-conscious, for though she was comfortable in esteemed company, in that meeting she had no standing. Combine that with the overt familiarity in her statement and Sir Kyle might start to have strange ideas regarding their relationship.

Tiny laughed, helping to break the awkward silence, though it wasn’t his place to speak either.

Captain Barrentine sighed. “Let me ask you one question, Your Grace. Did you choose my company to honor me with such an important assignment, or was it because of this sergeant of mine?” He jerked a thumb in Tiny’s direction. “Considering how much danger you’ll be in, I couldn’t blame you if that was the reason. Squire Shaw here has pulled my bacon out of the fire more than once.”

Will smiled. “I’d be a poor friend if I deliberately put my friends in the most dangerous of assignments. The truth is darker. I’m trying to get you killed, Captain Barrentine.” His tone made it clear he was joking.

Sir Kyle laughed, along with the others, but then his face grew somber once more. “We’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m sure you have others waiting on your time.”

“I do. But might I ask a favor, not as your superior, but as a friend?” said Will.

“Certainly.”

“Might I have a minute alone with your squire?”

Captain Barrentine nodded then left, and as soon as the three of them were alone Will stood and embraced his long-time friend. “I miss marching with you, Tiny.”

“So march! None of the regulations forbid you from doing whatever you want,” answered the big man. He waved a hand before Will could become defensive. “I’m joking. I know it wouldn’t do for you to fraternize.” Then he sized Will up and down for a moment. “Do you have something special up your sleeve?”

“What do you mean?” asked Will.

“To keep you alive. You know I’ll be running as fast as my legs will carry me, but I’m not a sprinter. You’re going to be all alone for what will seem like several lifetimes until we get there.”

“Darla will be with him,” reminded Laina. “You know how formidable she is.”

Tiny shook his head. “No disrespect, but lethal though she may be, in a heavy press of armored bodies, she’ll be easily swept away.”

Laina looked the squire up and down, then responded, “Even as wide as your shoulders are, if it was you instead, you’d still be just one man.” Then she looked at Will. “I think you’re insane and I wish you wouldn’t do this, but if anyone should be there, it should be me. I did promise to protect you after all.”

“We’d be discovered,” Will pointed out, as he had several times over during their previous discussions. “Otherwise I’d have all of you and Barrentine’s entire company with me as well, but it just wouldn’t work. Just stay close to Tiny and you’ll reach me as soon as anyone does.”

They bantered for another minute or two, then Tiny straightened. “I’d better take my leave. I’m sure the captain is waiting for me.” Another big embrace, and then he was gone.

Lieutenant Renly stepped in a moment later. “Are you ready for Commander Spry?”

Spry was leading Second Division, so his role would be just as pivotal for Will’s plans. “Send him in.” Mentally, he ran through the list of officers he’d spoken to, and those he had yet to brief. It would be a long evening. Before Renly could step out, Will added, “I’m supposed to meet with Scholar Sundy after Commander Spry, but send her in with him. They’ll need to coordinate anyway, so I should meet them together.”

Chapter 28

That night Will checked on Selene again and was relieved to see she had recovered, though she still looked tired. He spied on Lustral after that, but didn’t manage to catch the man meeting with anyone dubious or writing out incriminating messages. Once again, Will went to bed late, and unfortunately, he was awakened early.

“What time is it?” he croaked groggily as his eyes focused on Lieutenant Renly.

“Dawn is an hour away.”

He scowled at his dutiful subordinate. “We aren’t attacking at dawn. Why are you getting me up?”

“The pickets on the other side of the river are reporting activity.”

Will sat up, his heart speeding up. “What kind of activity?”

“They think it’s the forward scouts of the Darrowan relief forces.”

“Oh.” Will took a deep breath. Forward scouts meant they probably had another day, possibly two before the Patriarch’s forces could attack. They’d have to make camp, reorganize, and get in position first. “See if Scholar Sundy is in her tent. If she’s asleep, don’t wake her. She had a long night, but if she hasn’t slept yet tell her to report to me.”

Renly nodded. “I’ll send a runner.”

His stomach made its needs known, so Will added, “And have someone send breakfast my way.”

Scholar Sundy arrived at almost the same time the food did, so Will offered to split it with her.

“No, thanks.” The senior researcher from Wurthaven looked tired. “I’ll eat after I sleep.”

“How did it go? Did they finish?” asked Will. “There’s signs of the enemy on the other side of the river already.”

“We need more time. We could finish it now, but…”

He waved his hand. “No, you need sleep. Besides, if you work during the daytime it’s too easy to spot. I don’t think they’ll come at us until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“If I might take my leave then?”

Will nodded and returned his attention to his breakfast. Laina appeared a few minutes later. “Eating without me?”

“I figured you’d appreciate sleep more,” he replied.

His sister’s face was sour. “Darla decided you might be about to do something foolish, so she woke me early.”

“Then you need to eat.” Will offered her the remaining crust from his bread.

She eyed the pitiful tidbit then shook her head. “I’ll wait for mine. What’s on your agenda for today?”

Will told her about the recent reports, then added, “With any luck all I’ll be doing today is talking. After the sun is up, I’ll try to parley.”

Laina exhaled, then sagged, putting her head and arms on the table. “So, she woke me for nothing.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I could hardly fall asleep, and just as soon as I did, she woke me up again,” she groaned, talking into the table.

“Are you all right?” Will asked.

“Don’t bother me until the tea gets here,” she mumbled.

He smiled faintly. Will understood her trouble perfectly. He’d been through it many times during his first stint in the military. Sleepless nights had been common for him, but over time he’d learned to sleep despite the anxiety. He might have gone to bed late last night, but he had fallen asleep rapidly once he’d finally closed his eyes.

“Another scout has returned,” said Renly, ducking in once again. “This one says he is to report to you alone.”

“Send him in.”

The scout entered a moment later, then snapped to attention. “Scout Hendricks reporting as ordered, sir.”

Will nodded. “At ease. What did you find?”

“No sign of the enemy, sir, but the road had been dug up every sixty feet or so along a somewhat narrower section.”

“Similar to the area that was trapped on the other road?”

“Yes, sir.”

Will questioned him for a while longer, then dismissed the man. He sat alone for several minutes, staring at the wall of the tent, his mind blank. Somewhere deep down, thoughts were passing back and forth, but they were beneath his conscious awareness. At present he still didn’t know what to do with the information. Only one fact was clear, someone had betrayed them almost immediately once he had announced his change of course. But how did they get the information to the Darrowans quickly enough for them to shift their traps in time?

Lieutenant Renly entered. “The sun is up. What are your orders?”

“I’ll be out in a moment.” Will washed his face then went out to greet the day. After meeting briefly with the sub-marshals, he told them to stand ready. “Today will be boring, hopefully. Maybe tomorrow as well, but we have to keep ourselves ready.”

Sub-Marshal Spry nodded. “Boring is good, but if we keep the men standing on knife’s edge for too long it will hurt morale.”

“There’s no choice,” said Will. “Send someone out with a flag so they know we want to parley.”

“Who will you have meet them?” asked Sub-marshal Nicht.

“I’ll go myself.”

“We know nothing about the commander of the city garrison. What if he breaks his trust?” asked Nicht. “Shouldn’t you send someone else?”

“I don’t think they’d be foolish enough to ruin their chances at future diplomacy. Besides, I need to speak to the man face to face if I’m to—” Will stopped abruptly, remembering the possibility of a spy in their midst. Even a small hint might be too much. He rephrased his statement, “I want to talk to him myself.”

***

The sky was a barren dome of blue, bereft of any clouds, allowing the sun to shine mercilessly down on Will and his escort. The harsh light was welcome, though, for the wind was still bitterly cold despite the advent of spring. He and the man standing across from him were both squinting as they studied each other.

Klendon’s commander was a burly man with rough shoulders and a face that probably scared small children on a regular basis. It wasn’t that he was ugly, merely that his features lent themselves to a merciless expression. The intimidating appearance was backed up by rough, callused hands that were crisscrossed with scars.

“You shouldn’t have crossed the mountains,” said the commander.

Will narrowed his eyes further, then answered, “Who am I speaking to?”

There was the faintest of pauses, then the Darrowan responded, “The one in charge.” Then he added, “And who are you? Does the King of Terabinia send boys to negotiate for him?”

“King Lognion is still in Cerria. I’m the one in charge of this army, and the one empowered to negotiate with not only you, but the Patriarch himself when he eventually has to surrender,” said Will calmly.

The other man laughed, glancing back at his guards as he did. “I thought you’d be older.”

“At least I’m not hiding. I’m the one able to make decisions here.”

“Hiding?” The man raised one brow.

Will nodded, then looked at one of the men standing farther back. “Is that him? You’re one of his guards, aren’t you? Or his second? No, he’d leave his second in command inside, in case something happened.”

“Do you have something to say? If not, this meeting is over,” growled the Darrowan.

As the man spoke, the one farther back stepped forward, putting a hand on the pretender’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Darrell.” Then he gave Will an annoyed look before introducing himself, “Lionell Durant, Captain Commander of the Klendon garrison. You’re perceptive for a young man, but I’m not sure I believe you’re who you say you are.”

Will’s eyes lit with interest and he leaned forward slightly. “I doubt we’ll settle anything at this meeting. I am in charge of this army, and my purpose here is to give you a choice, and set my words in your heart when the time comes for you to choose again.”

“A choice? I’m not going to surrender to some wet-behind-the-ears boy, not when I’ve got every advantage. Klendon’s walls are unbreakable. The only choice here is yours. You can lay siege to Klendon, in which case you’re currently in a bad position with those bridges behind you, or you can cross and try to fight this war without your supply lines, because I guarantee we will disrupt them continually.”

He didn’t flinch at the man’s derision. Will’s face was intense, and he never looked away. Make him believe it. “If you surrender today, I will take you into temporary custody, and Klendon will serve as a logistical supply hub for the Terabinian army. Once the war is concluded, you’ll be returned to your lands and allowed to keep whatever titles you currently possess.”

“You’re insane.”

Will held up one hand. “I’m not done. This is your first chance, but I’ll give you one more in the days to come. If you surrender then, I’ll give you the same terms. Lognion wants to annex Darrow, not burn it, so the fewer people I have to kill the better.”

Durant laughed. “You know I won’t accept that. Nor will I change my mind, no matter what threats you make.”

“It’s not a threat. If you refuse the next chance, I’ll see that you lose everything, including your life. I won’t forgive a leader who needlessly sacrifices the lives of those he commands.”

“March back to Barrowden and I’ll let you go without a fight. If your army is still here tomorrow you won’t get out without losing a significant amount of blood,” said Durant coldly. Then he looked at his escort. “We’re done.”

As they began to walk back to Klendon, Will reiterated, “Don’t forget my words.”

One of the guards beside him, Mark Nerrow, let out a long sigh. “Told you that wouldn’t accomplish much. If anything, he has less respect for you now.”

Will smiled. “It works better if he thinks I’m young and foolish. If he respected me, he’d be more inclined to be suspicious and he might think twice before trying to close the trap around us when the fighting starts.”

The sub-marshal looked thoughtful for a moment, then replied, “Good point.”

Chapter 29

“Lustral must be losing his mind right now,” said Mark Nerrow. “The fact that you haven’t sent the other divisions across the bridges makes our position even more untenable.”

“Even if we did it wouldn’t be great,” said Will. “Since there’s three bridges, we’d have to split them on the north and south sides of the main river to guard both.” The sun had set hours ago, and unlike a more ordinary camp situation, the Terabinian army didn’t just have watches set, but rather the entire army was rotating their sleeping times in four-hour increments. The end result was that at least one-third of the men were awake and armed at all times. After eating and settling in, the other officers and command staff had retired to their tents, but Mark had come to sit with Will until he was ready to rest.

“But having them on the other side of Klendon where they can’t do anything is pure madness, at least to any normal line of thinking.”

“True,” Will admitted. “I’ve put us neatly in the trap.”

“If Durant is suspicious, your counter-trap may not work.”

“Being underestimated because of my age works in my favor. He’s more likely to think I’m a fool,” Will replied, trying to reassure himself with the words. Deep down, he wished he could run. He’d just as soon tell the king to go to hell and abscond with Selene—if it weren’t for all the consequences everyone else around him would have to suffer for his selfishness. Currently his greatest fear was that if his plan failed, a lot of decent men would die, purely because of his attempt at cleverness.

But if it works, many, many more will be spared, he reminded himself. Glancing up, he looked at the man who had sired him. He wasn’t particularly close to Mark Nerrow, but over the past year they had gone from passing strangers to friendly acquaintances, with some rough moments along the way. It was a strange relationship, but he trusted the man more than most of those around him currently.

“How long do you think we’ll have to wait?” Will asked, feeling anxious.

Mark lifted one brow curiously. “You’re asking me? You’re the genius who dreamed this wild plan up.”

He sighed. “I’m doing my best, but this is still my first time leading…”

“Scared?”

Will nodded. “I’ve been in the middle of a shield wall with spears aimed at my head, but this is a different kind of fear.”

“It’s new, but it’s still just fear,” said Mark. “You’ve done well so far. The most important thing for a commander is to present an air of absolute confidence. Letting them see your uncertainty would destroy morale.”

“I know. I learned that as a soldier—when I had to take orders rather than give them. But knowing it and feeling it are two different things. I’m just pretending.”

The older man snorted. “So is everyone else.” When Will started to say something, his father held up a hand. “Let me finish. It gets easier. When you’re my age and you’ve done it long enough, you might sometimes forget you’re not the unshakable leader you’re pretending to be, but when you’re sitting around a fire at night, or trying to go to sleep, you’ll remember. That fear never truly fades, you just get better at dealing with it.”

“Maybe,” said Will. “So, how long before you think they’ll attack?”

“The sooner the better. Having the entire force sleep in shifts like this is going to get old fast. Tomorrow would be best, but I wouldn’t count on the Darrowans getting their act together that quickly. I’d guess day after tomorrow.” After a few seconds, he added, “You were right about the ritual magic, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“The city walls are heavily reinforced with enchantments. Most of the tactical rituals would fail against them,” said his father.

Will had noticed that earlier, but he hadn’t felt the need to discuss it. “One of the rituals she brought would probably work, but I’m not willing to use that one.”

Mark Nerrow nodded. “The Creeping Death?” The ritual he referred to conjured a poisonous fog that could roll across an entire city, killing everyone indiscriminately. Just the thought of it sent a shiver up Will’s spine.

They talked for a short while longer before the baron left and Will went through his routine of astral spying. As before, it was a waste of time, costing him an hour he could have been sleeping. When he finally closed his eyes, it was nearly midnight.

He wasn’t sure how long it took him to fall asleep, but it seemed he’d only been asleep for a brief span before he woke to the sound of trumpets blaring. Will sat up, feeling annoyed. They shouldn’t be sounding the wake-up call before dawn, not with the shifts we’re sleeping in, he thought grumpily.

The horns sounded again, accompanied by the sound of men yelling in the distance. It wasn’t the morning call. We’re under attack!

Adrenaline shot through his veins and Will leapt from his cot, racing to the door of his tent. He nearly ran headfirst into Lieutenant Renly, who was entering to wake him. The two men got tangled up for a moment before Will hastily shoved the man away. “Report,” he commanded.

“I don’t know much. The horns are sounding, not just from the bridges but from the other side of Klendon.”

Will froze. Does that mean they’re attacking the other divisions? It made no sense. The bulk of their army was there, and there was almost no way the Darrowans could have smuggled a significant force across the river to attack from that direction. “Help me with my mail,” he ordered, trying to think as he dressed.

A messenger ran through the door a minute later, breathless and trying to report the same news Will had just heard from Renly. Will glared at the hapless man. “Shut up. Send runners to the sub-marshals. The plan is the same. They’ll just have to hold their ground until we can get the men up and in position.”

With Renly’s help, he finished shrugging into his mail hauberk. The helm was simpler, but he wondered for a moment whether he had time to don the breastplate. Selene’s face popped into his head for some reason. “Help me with the breastplate too,” he told Renly.

Arming took at least a quarter of an hour most days, but with Renly’s help and a few shortcuts he managed it in roughly ten minutes. It felt like an eternity, and all the while men ran in and out, shouting reports and waiting on his hastily considered commands.

It was surreal, but the urgency gave him little time to consider how strange it all felt.

“They managed to silence the pickets and overwhelm the bridge guard,” a young messenger reported, his excitement raising his voice to shouting level. “They’ve taken all three bridges and they’re bringing men across two of them in force.”

Will nodded. “Tell them to withdraw and hold the line. We have to give those who were sleeping time to arm.”

The young messenger was so full of adrenaline and anxiety that he started to argue, “But if we don’t take the bridges back…”

“Silence!” Will barked, and once again his magic inadvertently emphasized his voice, turning the command into a sound that shocked everyone in his immediate vicinity. “We don’t need the bridges. We need the men armed and ready.”

The messenger closed his mouth, stunned, then he turned and ran to deliver the message. Renly spoke hesitantly from Will’s side. “Sir, begging your pardon, but if we let them hold the bridges, they’ll be able to bring enough men over to put us in a perilous position. With the city walls at our backs, we won’t—”

Will cut him off. “I know. Are you finished with that buckle?”

He was, and Will left without continuing the conversation. Outside, the moonless night made everything worse. The darkness hung over them like a cloying blanket, smothering their senses and increasing everyone’s fear. No one thought they’d attack at night, he thought ruefully, which means we probably should have expected it. Will adjusted his vision, searching for the sweet spot that would allow him to see across long distances without blinding him when his eyes encountered a torch or lantern.

For once, having superior vision wasn’t such a big advantage. Beyond twenty yards, his vision was obscured by milling men, tents, and the general chaos of thousands trying to figure out where they should be. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have risked it, but the lack of light would hamper the enemy archers too, so Will cast the elemental travel-disk spell and lifted himself twenty feet into the air to get a better view.

With his height and vision, he had the best view, and what he saw was worse than he’d hoped. The Darrowans were slowly pushing the Terabinians farther back from the bridges. Although they’d attacked at night, it was still a hard fight for the Darrowans, for while the pickets had been weakly defended, the main body of William’s army had prepared a serious defense.

The main reason they were slowly being forced back was that two-thirds of their force was still getting dressed, but even that could be easily countered—if the bridges were brought down. The Patriarch’s forces were suffering just as many casualties as the Terabinians, but they were being constantly refreshed by new soldiers rushing across the bridges.

Will turned to look at Klendon. Eventually we’ll be pushed back into range of their bows and other weapons, but they have an even better option if they really want to punish us. He shook his head. He had to get in position—and quickly—otherwise the opportunity would be lost, if indeed it came at all.

He descended and found Renly. “If anything happens before I return, direct the messengers to Sub-Marshal Nerrow. He’ll be in charge until you hear from me again.”

The lieutenant’s eyes widened with fear. “Where will you be?”

“Hopefully at the center of hell itself.” Will reflex cast the camouflage spell and then adjusted his turyn in the peculiar way he had learned from Darla. Renly’s eyes struggled to focus on him for a second, and then they lost him completely. It must have looked almost as though he had vanished. Ignoring his assistant’s cries, Will walked deliberately toward his goal.

Now that he was in motion, his plan felt even more foolish. What if the enemy did what he expected, but they waited several hours before doing so? How would his officers cope with his absence? Nerrow, Nicht, and a few select others knew where he would be, but it didn’t mean they would be able to communicate with him. He might as well have vanished.

Will carefully threaded his way unseen through groups hastily donning armor and through other groups who were already prepared and holding their places. No one noticed him as he moved like a ghost in, out, and then beyond, until he was alone, marching across the dead, empty ground that separated his army from the walls of Klendon.

This was the moment of truth, and despite his armor he felt strangely naked as he moved quietly across the open area. Surely someone would spot him despite his protections.

But no one did.

At last he reached his place, beside the gates of Klendon, and began his vigil, which he hoped would be short. Being at ground level, he couldn’t see what was happening at the bridges; he was limited to watching the backs of Second Division. From what he could tell everyone was up and armed now. Staring across the empty ground to his left, he tried to spot Barrentine’s company, where Tiny would be waiting to pull his ass out of the fire, but there were too many people for him to spot even his massive friend.

More shouts of alarm and dismay rose up from behind, in the direction of the Terabinian forces on the other side of Klendon. Something was happening there, but Will had no way of knowing what it was. It has to be a distraction, he told himself. That’s the only reasonable explanation. They wanted to divide our attention while taking the bridges back.

He told himself that several times, but as the minutes stretched out into eternity, his worry turned into a gut-gnawing anxiety. The men of Second Division were beginning to take steps backward—moving them closer to Klendon, to Will—as they were forced to make room for First Division as it was slowly pushed back into them.

The air was cold, but Will was sweating profusely. What are they waiting for? If things dragged out for too long, the fight would turn into a brutal night of mutual annihilation. The Terabinians couldn’t easily run, being hemmed in by the city on one side and the Darrowan relief forces on the other. One thing Will had learned during his first taste of war was to avoid fighting an opponent that was cornered and couldn’t surrender. You might win, but the cost in blood would be higher than you wanted to pay.

Will was tempted to return and call the whole thing off. They still had options. It might not give them the victory he wanted, but he could save the siege and stop the Darrowan advance. He was debating the idea with himself when he heard the peal of horns from within the city of Klendon, and a few seconds later the gates began to swing inward.

A shout rose from the defenders of Klendon as they sallied through the gates to take Second Division from behind. The captain commander of the garrison had finally sprung the trap. Will might have felt relief, but at the moment his heart was pounding like a drum as hundreds of men charged past him.

He wanted to shout, to urge the sub-marshals to take action, but he kept his mouth shut. Not yet, idiot! Do your part first. Nicht and Sundy will act at the right time.

As the last of the Darrowan soldiers ran past, Will heard the inevitable creak as those within the city started to shut the gates again. It was time. Turning the corner, he ran a short distance into Klendon, so that he stood just within the gates and between the gatehouse’s two massive portcullises.

The portcullises were a failsafe of sorts, or a last resort, should an attacker breach the gates. The two massive iron grills stood ten yards apart, so that they could be used to trap attackers between them, but either one alone was enough to stop an invader’s army from entering. Will’s job was simple. Stop the gates from being closed, while simultaneously preventing either of the two portcullises from being dropped down.

Will had prepared one simple spell to accomplish all three things at once. He erected a force-wall, lining it up along the length of the wide corridor under the gatehouse. Its position protected him on one side, while simultaneously preventing the right-hand portion of the gate from closing. Once the defenders realized what he’d done, they also triggered the portcullises, but the force-wall kept them from falling as well, though Will felt the strain as so much heavy weight came to bear along the top of his wall at either end.

“Terabinians! The city is ours!” he shouted, his voice echoing with such depth and timbre that it seemed to shake the walls around him.

Chapter 30

As Will was blocking the city gates, Klendon’s defenders reached the rear of Second Division’s line. Unfortunately for them, the seemingly unprepared Terabinians were expecting them. As the Darrowan soldiers charged out they smoothly turned in place. What had seemed to be the back row, primarily spearmen, bent and lifted their shields from the ground, while those behind them switched to spears. They had been in a reversed formation the entire time, though they had made every effort to appear unready.

The line of shields and spears that met the Darrowans was firm and solid, which in practical terms was a disaster for the smaller force of attackers who had expected to take their enemies by surprise. Even worse, while those that met them held their ground, the wings of Second Division were already charging in from the sides, heading for the gates and their now-beleaguered commander.

For the first few moments, the men in the gatehouse didn’t know what to make of their inability to close one of the gates, and they were even more confused when the portcullises dropped only a foot before stopping suddenly. It wasn’t long, though, before one of their sorcerers spotted Will. He wasn’t able to keep using Darla’s technique while maintaining the force-wall, and the camouflage spell only went so far when dealing with people who could see turyn being used.

Spells and elementals began attacking his wall from one side, while an angry line of soldiers two abreast began running toward him once they figured out how his wall was placed. Will had lined up his force-wall about seven feet from the right-hand interior wall, giving himself plenty of room. It also meant the enemy could come at him only two at a time, though others were running outside the gates to find the other end of his wall and flank him. Soon they’d be approaching him from both sides.

He dropped the camouflage spell as soon as the soldiers began to head toward him. While maintaining the force-wall, he couldn’t use other force spells, like his point-defense shield, or the force-lance, both of which would have been massively useful to him just then, but he’d planned for his current situation. The force-wall had been his first prepared spell; the iron-body transformation and silver-sword spell were his second and third. Argent flames erupted from the blade of his falchion as he met the first attackers.

Will’s fighting skills had improved over the years, though he was by no means the greatest of swordsmen, but his magic gave him a considerable advantage. The silver-sword spell greatly enhanced the cutting power of his sword. It still couldn’t easily cut through mail or a shield (though it would leave deep cuts), but it could pass through ordinary leather or padded gambesons much more easily than a mundane blade. That combined with the fiercely burning flames and the fear and hesitation they produced in his opponents, made quite a difference.

They still would have eventually overborne him with sheer numbers, especially as they began to come at him from both sides, but Will was also able to use the source-link spell to great effect. As the first men reached him, he connected to their sources and paralyzed them in an instant, causing them to freeze in place. This not only caused those behind to stumble over them, but it also made them easy targets. His blade rose and fell ruthlessly, cutting through flesh and bone while it sent streamers of blood through the air.

Silver fire sizzled when it met blood, and the air was filled with the stench of burning flesh as the next soldiers to reach him began trying to move away, struggling with their companions behind them.

Will used that brief respite to turn and deal similarly with the first of those to flank him from the other end. Men fell screaming, with mortal wounds, and the fight began to devolve into chaos as Will was forced to divide his attention.

Ten were down, then fifteen, and Will began to doubt he could last. His enemies were everywhere, and his turyn was fading as he struggled to maintain the wall that kept the portcullises up. Tiny had been right. A hundred yards was too far, and he already felt as though he’d been fighting alone for an eternity.

Light flared in the distance, from the direction of the bridges, accompanied by a low rumble and mingled cries of dismay and triumph. Will was too busy trying to stay alive to think on it, but in the back of his mind his inner voice was commenting, That would be Elizabeth. The bridges are down.

Something struck him from behind, slamming into the backplate of his demon-steel breastplate. His first impression was that he hadn’t been hit hard, but the steel burst into black flames, and when he turned he saw a massive man holding a war-maul in two hands. Two things were immediately apparent: first, the force of the blow must have been incredible for his breastplate to have absorbed enough kinetic energy to start showing flames, and second, not only had the otherworldly steel protected him, it had also prevented him from being thrown forward.

All that passed in an instant as the brute whipped the massive steel head back into the air for another swing. The man’s strength had to be immense, but when he smiled, Will finally understood. Sharp fangs flashed, sending a shiver up Will’s spine. Vampire!

Backpedaling, he felt several blows strike his arms and side as he narrowly avoided the next swing of the maul. His mail would have protected him from the cuts, but without the iron-body spell, one of the particularly well-aimed blows might have broken the bones in his forearm. Unable to use his point-defense shield and without any more spells prepared, Will knew he was in trouble.

The argent flames on his sword could kill a vampire, but the maul had a long handle, and the fiend was impossibly fast. Will tried to sidestep and stumbled as his foot came down on a dead body. To make matters worse, before he could correct his balance, one of the soldiers at his back was close enough to shove him forward, directly into the path of the next swing.

The maul’s heavy steel head didn’t impact his breastplate this time—it smashed solidly into the upper part of his left arm. Mail did nothing to mitigate the damage from impact weapons, though the padding of his gambeson helped somewhat. Even so, intense pain shot through Will’s body as the maul snapped the bone, despite the protection of his iron-body spell.

Falling to the right, he tried to twist, to bring his sword up in defense, but someone behind him slammed something hard against his helm. Stunned, he dropped the falchion and then someone knocked him down. Men pressed in from every side, swinging their weapons two-handed to try and hurt his iron-reinforced body.

One enterprising fellow had lost his sword and used a shield, holding it in both hands while driving the edge down into his thighs. Will might have congratulated him on his cleverness, if he hadn’t been in so much pain from the blows. His only saving grace was that the soldiers crowded around him so eagerly that there was no room for the vampire warrior to swing his maul and give Will a crushing end.

Curling into a ball, Will was forced to accept the brutal punishment while he tried desperately to maintain the force-wall. If he released the spell, he might still be able to save himself by using a quick succession of force-lances and point-defense shields, but that would cost him the battle.

“Give me some room! Let me crush this bug.”

He had a bad feeling that it was probably the vampire warrior’s voice, and as the soldiers moved away, he saw the maul rising. Will tried to move, but everything hurt too much. Staring up, he saw the steel head start to descend. So this is how I die, he thought. No!

Snarling, Will drew on the black flames burning in his breastplate, using them to fuel a spell that came together in an instant of desperation. Wind and flames exploded around him, shredding the Darrowan soldiers and turning the air into a sizzling, stinking, burning inferno of blood and tattered flesh. It died away seconds later, and silence reigned for a moment, but for the ghoulish flopping of some of the larger remnants of the vampire warrior.

That was a sloppy wind-wall, he realized. He had finally reflex cast the spell, although he’d done it so hastily that he hadn’t fully converted the demonic turyn. Nausea washed over him as the void turyn sickened his body. Bruised, broken, and fighting the sickness of such antithetical turyn, it would probably be minutes before he could do much—and more soldiers were coming.

Where was Barrentine’s company? Where was Tiny, or Laina? Glancing back toward the open gate, Will saw a fierce battle raging as the now-retreating men from Klendon struggled to keep Second Division from reaching the open gates. Their cohesion was rapidly failing, but it looked as though their desperate tactics would delay the Terabinians enough to seal Will’s fate—and save their city.

Will had to admire their effort, he just wished it wasn’t coming at the cost of his life. Looking back into Klendon, he saw a new group of cautious Darrowans beginning to head in his direction. Considering how crucial the moment was, they should have charged at him, but he couldn’t blame them for their timidity. They’d just seen roughly fifty of their friends die trying to kill him, including their undead champion.

Trying not to vomit, Will struggled slowly to his feet. Somehow his legs were still able to bear his weight and even his right arm still worked—albeit reluctantly. “Come and get me, assholes!” he yelled in empty defiance. “Come see how Arrogan’s apprentice bleeds, if you dare!”

Those might have been inspiring last words, Will thought wryly, if I’d had a weapon in my hand. Glancing down, he stared at his still burning sword and wondered if he dared try to pick it up. He was pretty sure he’d fall over if he tried to bend down that far. While he considered it, the Darrowan soldiers finally gathered their courage and began running toward him.

Sorry, Selene. I tried. Will watched them come, their faces lit by a strangely flickering light, as though they approached a campfire. Turning, Will saw a wave of fire expanding among the Darrowans outside who were defending the gates, and in the gap that followed, a massive form charged through.

“Tiny!” Will cheered. Looking back, he saw the men coming for him had paused a short distance away. They too were spellbound by the sight of the giant warrior charging toward them. “If I were you, I’d run,” Will advised. “You won’t like my friend when he’s angry.”

They seemed to be considering his counsel, but it was too late. Tiny arrived with a roar, and as he passed, his shoulder knocked Will flying, sending him against the stone wall. The big man dropped his shield and scooped up Will’s burning sword so that now he held two weapons, a war hammer in his right and the falchion in his left. When he reached the enemy, he used both to good effect.

Men screamed and men died, but Tiny moved forward like an avalanche of fury. Looking back in the direction of the battle, Will saw that the Darrowans had scattered. Some of them were still burning, while others had simply seen the wisdom of being somewhere else. In their wake, a small, armored figure approached, flanked by her two elementals.

Laina ran toward him as quickly as she could, but she was soon passed by the soldiers of Barrentine’s company, who were racing to follow Tiny’s charge into the city. They flowed around the sorceress and past Will. Soon, Will was surrounded by friendly soldiers.

Actually, ‘surrounded’ was a poor word for it. A better description would have been ‘nearly trampled to death’ by friendly soldiers. They streamed past him and into the city. Meanwhile Laina’s earth elemental had arrived, and a column of hardened earth grew upward to brace the portcullises.

The earthen column collapsed a moment later when one of the enemy sorcerers countered her effort, but by then the massive wooden braces that some of the soldiers from Barrentine’s company had been lugging arrived. They wedged the timber in place while the city defenders, sorcerers and soldiers alike, were forced to abandon their positions by the advance of Second Division.

Emory, Bug, and Sir Kyle himself used their elementals to defend the open gates from magical assault while the rest of Second Division entered the city. Will was at last able to release his force-wall as Laina and Darla reached his side.

Darla took a defensive position, guarding them while Laina looked him over. His sister’s face betrayed her worry, but once she was certain he was still mostly in one piece her rough wit returned. “You look even worse than usual,” she remarked.

Will smirked, then grimaced as he discovered that even that movement hurt. “I think I got the better end of the deal,” he said, waving his hand at the grisly remains scattered in every direction around him. The nausea from the void turyn was almost gone now, and he was starting to think about his next move.

Laina took a moment to incinerate the still-moving remains of the vampire warrior, then shook her head as she replied, “This is what meeting you makes people want to do to themselves, I guess.” She eyed him again, then added, “Take one of your potions.”

“Not yet. It will probably put me to sleep, and there’s still more to do.”

Flickers of anger showed in her eyes, but Laina kept her voice even. “You’ve done enough. Your arm is broken, and you have no idea how bad your face looks. Take the potion.”

“Worried about me?”

She snorted. “Just keeping my promise. Selene wanted me to take care of you.”

Will rolled his eyes and started moving forward, heading toward the fighting inside the city. “Sure.”

“I said take the potion.”

Laina’s voice had gained a certain resolve, and Will knew she was prepared to try and force him. Will turned back. “When I’m done.” Laina’s earth elemental began to move before he finished the phrase, but Will reacted even faster—his source-link connected with Laina, and half a second later she was a prisoner in her body. The elemental continued to move, but Will gave her a warning. “Call it off. If I have to drain your elemental, it won’t be much use to you for several hours.” The elemental stopped, and he released the paralysis binding her.

“Asshole,” she spat. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Then help me, but don’t try to stop me. I’ll take the potion when there’s either nothing else to do, or I can’t do anything else.” He summoned a regeneration potion from the limnthal and handed it to her. “Here. If I collapse or fall unconscious, you can give it to me yourself.”

He turned back and began following the soldiers of Second Division into the city of Klendon with Laina and Darla following close behind. As he went, he prepared several spells to take the place of those he had used: a force-dome, another iron-body transformation, and a light-darts spell.

The fighting in Klendon was desperate, confused, and chaotic. If anything, it was even worse than what he had seen when the Darrowans burned Barrowden. At least then it had been daytime. In the dark streets, soldiers and frightened citizens fought, fled, and died. Although Will believed he was on the right side of the conflict, he had no doubt that things would become even uglier, and they still had to take the keep where the city commander was probably holed up.

Even once they had taken the city, laying siege to the keep within it would be a bloody undertaking—and one with little point. The Darrowans had lost, of that there was no doubt. The only question now was how many people would have to die before they admitted it.

Will stalked through the streets, helping here and there with force-lances when he came across scenes where the defenders were holding off the Terabinian soldiers effectively. Some might have said his actions were justified—it was a war after all—but deep down it still felt like plain murder. The enemies he slew never had a chance, and it showed how much he had changed over the years that he barely hesitated as he accepted his own actions as a necessary evil.

Not all those he killed were Darrowans, though. Three blocks into the city, he heard screams coming from one of the shops on a side street. Seeing no one fighting, he followed the sound and found four Terabinian soldiers. Two were holding down the shop owner’s wife while the third was undoing his trouser laces. The fourth was standing watch just inside the door.

The one on watch started to threaten him with his spear, until he realized it was the Royal Marshal. “I didn’t want no part of it,” the soldier blurted out. “That’s why I’m just watching the door.”

Will killed the other three with force-lances, not even bothering to wait for their explanations. To the man on watch he said, “The only reason you’re going to leave this building alive is because I need you to tell people what happened here. In my eyes, you’re just as guilty.”

The remaining soldier lost control of his bladder. “You just killed them. Shouldn’t there be a trial?” he whined.

Will nodded. “There should be, but I don’t care. Feel free to try and bring charges against me after the war is over. In the meantime, tell your friends what happened here, because I’ll do the same to any others I find doing such deeds.” He waited until the soldier had left before turning to leave himself, trying not to look at the face of the woman who had been wronged.

In his mind all he could see was his aunt, who had been wronged and then murdered in front of him. It took everything he had to walk away.

“Aren’t you going to help her?” asked Laina.

“I have to finish this battle,” he responded coldly. “Unless the fighting ends soon there will be even more tragedies.”

“We could at least make sure she’s safe.”

Will looked to one side, afraid to meet her eyes, but his gaze fell upon something even worse, the body of a child lying in the gutter. “Stay here and do that. I have to find Sub-Marshal Spry and get this under control.”

Laina’s heart was torn in two directions. “I promised to keep you safe,” she growled.

A squad of soldiers rounded the corner just then, and Will called out to them. “Stop!” Once he had their attention, he interrogated them to find out which way to go in search of the sub-marshal, then he gave them some instruction. “Keep watch on this shop and make sure no one bothers the inhabitants further.” He gave them a brief description of what had occurred, then left.

A minute later, he realized Laina and Darla were still with him, but he didn’t comment. From there it took another quarter of an hour before he found the sub-marshal. Bartholomew Spry stood with several companies just outside the gate leading into the main keep. Messengers were running in and out, giving him reports from various parts of the city as well as updating him on the situation with First Division outside.

Will made his way through the crowded soldiers. “What’s our situation?” he asked without preamble.

The sub-marshal’s face brightened when he saw Will. “There’s still some fierce fighting within the city, but it will be ours. The bridges are down, and First is trying to force those that remain on this side to surrender. They’d be fools not to.”

He nodded. “And here?”

Spry glanced at the keep, then looked back. “The keep is solid. Taking it will be even harder, unless you can convince them to open the gates like you did with the city.”

“How long will it take to stop the fighting in the streets?” asked Will.

The sub-marshal sighed. “There are squads scattered all over. It will take quite a while to find everyone and get them back under control.”

During which time some of them will do who knows what, thought Will grimly. He needed to talk to the Darrowan commander to stop the fighting, and he needed to send runners all over the city to reorganize the scattered elements of Second Division. He could understand why it would take so much time.

But he didn’t want to wait. He needed to be heard.

Laina and Spry looked at him in mild alarm as they felt the turyn in the air begin to shift, drawn by invisible currents toward where Will was standing. Ordinarily, his turyn absorption wasn’t really noticeable, but his ability had slowly grown over the past year and now the sorcerers around him were easily able to see the streamers of turyn flowing into his body.

Will knew what he was doing on an unspoken level, but he would have been hard pressed to find the words to explain it to someone else. After he had taken in as much as he could, he reversed the flow. The gathered energy raced outward in fine threads, winding its way through the air and lacing itself through the turyn that permeated the rest of the city. In an instant, he went from controlling just himself, to controlling the turyn he had gathered, to influencing the magical energy all throughout the city.

It was something he had done on smaller scales while practicing with the student sorcerers before the war, but now Will took it to a much greater level. Opening his lips he began to speak, and the air conducted his voice flawlessly to every part of the city.

“I call truce!” Will gave his first words a volume and deep timbre that demanded attention, shocking all who heard it into stillness, even as it sent a shiver through the foundations of Klendon. His following words were loud and clear, but not so frightening or overwhelming. Later people would recall that it hadn’t been an intense or thundering voice. The sound wasn’t centered on Will, for if it had been, he would have had to shatter the eardrums of those closest to him to be heard throughout the city.

Instead his voice came from everywhere, as though he stood in every room, every street, every place within Klendon. It was strong and firm, and no one could fail to understand him. “This is William Cartwright, Royal Marshal and commander of the Terabinian army. The fighting is to cease immediately. Any soldier, any citizen, man, woman, or child, found fighting after this point I will hold personally responsible. Cease the conflict until Captain Commander Durant and I conclude our negotiations.”

Then he finished with, “Captain Durant, this is the moment I spoke of previously. Open the gates and surrender now. I will uphold the terms I gave you before. Refuse me and I will hold you accountable for every drop of blood spilled from this hour forward.”

Will felt faint as he finished and released his hold on the trailing remnants of the turyn he had used. Silence fell over Klendon, and the world itself seemed to be holding its breath. Sub-Marshal Spry stared at him in astonishment. “How did you…?”

Swaying, Will ordered, “Send out your runners. Start rounding them up and leave the people of the city alone. No more fighting tonight. They’ll either surrender soon or we can slaughter them tomorrow. We’re in the city and they can’t dislodge us now.” He stumbled then, but a large hand caught his shoulder, keeping him steady. Will glanced to his side and saw Tiny standing there.

The quiet remained in the minutes that followed, as though everyone in the city had gone to church and was afraid to disturb the peace. Will waited while Second Division re-formed, and while he did, a loud groan came from the gates protecting the interior of the keep. They swung slowly open and Captain Commander Lionell Durant walked out, his hands empty.

“I would like to tender my surrender.”

Chapter 31

Will stared at the Darrowan commander, then nodded. “You’ll have to endure some indignity, but I’ll keep my word. For now, order your soldiers to exit the keep and surrender their arms.”

Durant looked back into the keep. “I need to confer with my men for a moment. Will you trust me?”

Will snorted, then regretted it when a blood clot broke free and spoiled the moment. Someone offered him rag, and he used it to pinch his nose shut as he replied, “You’re trusting me to preserve your place after this war is done. Next to that I’m not particularly worried about what you might do in the next few minutes.”

Lionell Durant watched him with a worried expression, then started to go back in, but he stopped for a moment. “You should rest soon. You don’t look very well.” He disappeared into the keep after that.

Durant was true to his word, however, and a few minutes later the soldiers of Klendon began emerging to surrender. Their officers joined them, and soon the conversation among Will’s senior staff turned to practical matters of occupying the fortress and safely managing the newly surrendered Darrowans.

Sub-Marshal Nerrow and Commander Lambel appeared shortly after that, and with Laina’s help they finally convinced Will to take the regeneration potion. His appearance improved dramatically after that as his arm mended and the bruises on his face vanished, but as expected, his battle-fatigue was multiplied by the exhaustion brought on by the healing magic. Unable to resist its pull, Will’s eyelids sagged, and Tiny and one of the other soldiers loaded him onto a stretcher to carry him to his tent.

***

He awoke to darkness after a deep and dreamless slumber. Will’s first instinct was to get up immediately as a brief surge of panic went through him. How long was I asleep? He worried about what might have happened while he was unconscious, but he froze when he heard voices nearby.

They were immediately recognizable as his father and Laina, as well as Scholar Sundy. From the direction, Will guessed they were seated together in the forward portion of his command tent, separated from him by a few layers of canvas and a distance of no more than twenty feet or so. Their voices were soft enough that he couldn’t immediately make out what they were saying, but his curiosity got the better of him. Adjusting his hearing, Will began to listen.

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” said Mark Nerrow. “I haven’t even imagined anything like that.”

Laina responded first, “You mean you’ve never heard anything like that.”

Irritated, her father growled back, “You know what I mean! How was that even possible? It was as though he was standing right beside me—and everyone else. Even the men in the other divisions outside the city heard him clearly. I get shivers just thinking about it.”

“You knew he had some unusual abilities—” began Laina, but her father interrupted.

“This goes well beyond unusual abilities, Laina! You’d have to look back at some of the more fanciful histories to find anything like what he did last night,” said Mark.

“He held the gates against who knows how many soldiers, a few sorcerers, and a vampire, and you’re more worried about the fact that he cast his voice across the city? Are you sure you have your priorities straight?” asked Laina.

Elizabeth Sundy spoke then. “Your father is correct in this. What he did at the gate was extraordinary, but it was still within the realm of believability. The thing he did with his voice, I don’t think I would have credited it if I hadn’t heard it myself, even if every person in this army swore it was the truth.”

“Are you saying he’s some sort of monster?” There was a hard edge to her voice as she asked the question, as though she was on the verge of losing her temper.

“Of course not,” said Mark Nerrow in a placating tone. “We’re just trying to understand what happened, and to make sure that there isn’t something more serious to worry about.”

“Such as?” Laina demanded.

Her father’s voice was resigned as he answered her, “Such as, how did he obtain that strange power? There were rumors in the past about the fae, and we know he’s dealt with demons before. How do we know he hasn’t made some sort of desperate bargain?”

“I know,” declared Laina, “and if you had any sense you’d know too.”

Elizabeth broke in, trying to head off the incipient argument. “I don’t think suspecting him of warlockry is justified, Lord Nerrow. As astounding as it seems, I think it more likely he’s displaying a new facet of this strange new wizardry he espouses.”

The baron laughed. “Next you’ll tell me you think he’ll live for centuries like the wizards in those historical fictions!”

“Lord Courtney isn’t so sure that there isn’t some truth to those stories as well,” replied the scholar. “He’s put quite a bit of faith in the Royal Marshal’s unusual training.”

“And do you believe them?” asked Mark.

“I am not sure,” Elizabeth answered honestly.

Will couldn’t see them, but in his imagination, he felt sure Laina was biting her tongue as she pondered whether or not to mention the things he had told her about his life expectancy. She said nothing, and Will smiled in amusement, in part because he knew she was probably annoyed as hell and also because he knew she was doing her best to protect him.

Rising from the cot, he went and joined them. None of them mentioned the subject of their conversation before he arrived.

Over the next week, they solidified their hold over Klendon. The officers and significant leaders were sent to Barrowden to be kept humanely until the war was over while the Darrowan soldiers were simply relieved of their weapons and armor and sent home. Most of the garrison had families either in Klendon or the nearby regions, but some of those who lived farther away expressed concern about returning after having surrendered. Will allowed some of them to remain and serve as low-paid labor, though they were kept away from tasks that might allow them to sabotage Terabinia’s efforts.

Repair efforts were started on the bridges. Ironically, the two wooden bridges would be the most difficult, since their structural supports had been damaged. The big stone bridge was far easier, for Scholar Sundy and the engineers had been able to set up their spell-bombs to precisely destroy just one section without damaging either of the two of the major support columns that it ran between. It was a matter of only a day or two for sorcerers with earth elementals to recreate that portion.

The few sorcerers they found in Klendon were relieved of their elementals, which Will released, though he was tempted to give them to his student sorcerers. In the end, his conscience wouldn’t allow it. Lognion had given the students their elementals, but if Will did the same he would be one step closer to becoming what he despised.

All in all, the transfer of power in Klendon was surprisingly smooth. There were some mutterings when he ordered the Church of the Prophet torn down, but it appeared that the official state religion was less popular than the Patriarch wanted others to believe. Will gathered some additional insight when he interviewed the Darrowan commander one last time before the man was sent to Barrowden.

“Before you leave, I want to thank you for being sensible,” Will began. “Your decision wasn’t easy, but it saved a lot of lives.”

Lionell Durant studied him in silence for a moment, then said, “I still don’t know what to make of you, Your Grace.”

“Let’s drop the formalities,” said Will. “And what do you mean? I’ve been nothing but honest with you.”

“I mean your civility. You just thanked your former enemy.”

“I appreciate your use of the term ‘former,’” observed Will.

Lionell shook his head. “It might not be a compliment. I’m still not sure what the deciding factor was, trust or fear. When we first met, I thought you a fool, but when you reached the keep it became clear that I was badly mistaken.”

“I’m just glad you stopped the fighting when you did.”

“I’d like to claim I had a higher motive, but frankly, you scared the shit out of me.”

Will frowned, thinking about it for a moment. He had trouble understanding how other people viewed him. He felt he was merely being honest in his dealings, but as time went on, he couldn’t help but wonder if some saw him in the same light he saw Lognion. The thought was a cold lump in his stomach, but he shook it off. “I have some questions for you before you leave.”

“Although I’ve surrendered, I won’t betray my oath,” said Lionell. “If you succeed in replacing the Patriarch, I won’t be sad, but I won’t forswear myself.”

Will nodded. “When we were approaching, there was a trap laid for us along the road. How did your men know which road we would take? I switched the route just a day and a half before we took it.”

“I was given knowledge in advance,” admitted Lionell.

“From who?”

“From military command.”

“Do you know where they got their information?”

Lionell looked down regretfully. “That I cannot say, but I will tell you that I don’t know the details that you truly seek.”

Will watched him carefully. “You don’t know who the traitor among us is?”

“If there is one, I couldn’t confirm or deny it, nor would I know his name.”

He noted the use of the male pronoun, though it wasn’t much of a hint, since the vast majority of those on campaign with him were male. Will switched topics. “If the information came from your superiors, how did it reach you so quickly? For that matter, how did it reach them so quickly?”

“I cannot say.”

“Does the Darrowan military have some new form of communication?”

“I cannot say.”

“Do your superiors already know that Klendon has fallen?”

Lionell locked eyes with him, hesitating, then answered, “Given what you already know, it would be reasonable to assume they do.”

“Do they know?” Will asked again.

“I cannot say.”

Will closed his eyes, mulling it over. It was clear enough that the Darrowans had some form of extremely fast communication and Lionell had practically just confirmed it. He went to his next question. “Are there more vampires among the rest of the Darrowan army?”

Lionell started, seeming surprised. “What?”

“Drak’shar, blood-drinkers, cursed children of the dragon,” Will clarified. “Vampires. I met one in battle at your gates.”

“Vampires are a myth,” replied Lionell, but there was some uncertainty in his voice. “There have been rumors, but it’s just the talk of superstitious people.”

Will said nothing, merely staring into the Darrowan’s eyes.

“W-we heard rumors about Cerria, but no one really believed them,” stammered Lionell.

“They weren’t rumors, and I’ve seen far too many of them to entertain your doubts. I’m more interested in Darrow at the moment. What rumors have you heard about your own country?”

Lionell swallowed, then answered, “The man you probably fought was named Troy. He was sent here by High Command to assist with troop training. There were some who thought he might be demon-touched, like the Shimeran priests, but he couldn’t have been a vampire.”

“Why not?”

“He wasn’t afraid of the sun. The men said he was ruthless, quick, and deadly, but he was able to train men under the full midday sun. How could a vampire do that?”

“With magic,” Will declared.

“He wasn’t a sorcerer, or even a wizard.”

Will bristled inwardly at the phrasing but he didn’t bother trying to educate the man. Lionell had a point, though. If the vampire had been a wizard of some sort, he wouldn’t have engaged Will the way he had, nor would he have died as easily. “Did he have a companion?”

“His wife.”

He interrogated the Darrowan commander for another fifteen minutes before dismissing the man so he could be transported to Barrowden. He got enough information to locate the ‘wife,’ but after sending several squads and an exhaustive search, it was discovered that the woman had disappeared sometime after the battle, which was pretty much what Will had expected.

Will busied himself with his other duties for the rest of the day, then returned to his tent. Lieutenant Renly was waiting on him. “Have you inspected the quarters within Klendon yet, sir?”

“No, why should I? We won’t be staying there,” said Will somewhat sourly as he removed his boots and massaged his sore feet.

“We could have for the last few days at least,” whined Renly under his breath.

Will pretended not to hear. “I’m going to install Commander Bradshaw in Klendon anyway. He and Fourth Division will be handling logistics and protecting our supply chain so Klendon is the perfect location for him to operate from.”

“An entire division? That’s one-sixth our force, sir.”

“I’m familiar with fractions, Lieutenant,” Will snapped. “The supply lines are absolutely essential. They’re the easiest way for the Patriarch to stop our advance. That’s why I risked so much to take Klendon.”

Renly pursed his lips, clearly irritated at the lecture but not daring to show it. He returned to his original question. “You should still inspect the captain’s quarters in Klendon before we march.”

Will raised one brow. “Why?”

“There might be some vital intelligence to be found.”

“It’s been thoroughly searched already. I don’t see what more I could add to that,” said Will, but then he paused. There had been a notable lack of letters and other paper records in Lionell Durant’s office and personal quarters. Will had assumed they were burned or otherwise destroyed, but what if that wasn’t really the case?

Then again, I’m the Royal Marshal. I can’t be expected to do everything myself, he thought, repeating his original reasoning for not taking a personal hand in the previous searches. Will chewed his lip. He also knew he had advantages when it came to his senses. It was entirely possible he would find something the others had missed—and he had no further plans that evening.

With a sigh, he began tugging his boots back on.

Chapter 32

Captain Commander Durant’s personal quarters were modest and sparsely decorated, as befitted a military commander, at least in Will’s opinion. The room had been thoroughly tossed already, but someone had carefully put everything back in its place in preparation for whoever would take up residence there. Dozens of people had been in and out, and every item had been moved and examined.

Will wandered around the room, wondering what he could possibly find after a week had gone by. There were two excellent paintings, which he studied with some interest, but neither told him anything. He lifted them away from the wall and looked behind them, just to be sure, but he was certain that others had already done the same. He found nothing.

He moved the furniture around and examined the walls, floors, and even the ceiling—all things he was sure that others had done before him, but he did it anyway. He carefully increased his visual turyn sensitivity so he could even the faintest magical traces, but still found nothing. That would have been more effective right after the battle, though, he admitted silently. After a week it’s unlikely there would be anything left to find, unless there’s an active ward or other enchantment.

The walls were stone, so tapping on them to try and find voids wasn’t very helpful, though Will tried that too. But if the surface is thick enough, I won’t be able to hear a difference, he thought.

The last thing he tried before giving up was adjusting his vision through different parts of the light spectrum. The world looked very different depending on what you used to see it. In heart-light, the room was dull and relatively featureless, almost monotone, with different types of light it varied more, but nothing special stood out to him.

Eventually he switched to the strangest and most difficult type of vision. He didn’t have a name for it, but he thought of it as the opposite of heart-light. Heart-light lay beyond the deepest reds, but this type of vision was different, past the blues, past the invisible blues, and into a strange realm where light passed cleanly through most physical things but was still reflected by certain minerals.

Will didn’t enjoy looking into that part of the spectrum because it was extremely disorienting. It was easy to stumble over objects that became nearly invisible, and trying to focus on what was visible could cause vertigo and nausea.

Staying in one spot to minimize the dizziness, Will slowly turned, surveying the walls, floor, and ceiling. Compared to a wooden building, the stone that the keep was built from was nearly opaque, but he could still see ghost-like images of the rooms beyond. The north-facing wall was actually part of the keep’s outer wall, so the stone was extremely thick there, too thick for him to see through, but one portion of it held a dark square, and within the square were several brighter places that seemed almost to shine.

Will smiled and moved toward the spot, then promptly tripped over a footstool that was practically invisible. Swearing, he rubbed at his now-sore knee before readjusting his vision while simultaneously making a mental note of precisely where the hidden space was located. Once he could see properly, he went to the wall and examined the area closely.

It appeared unremarkable, but the stonework was such that it was conceivable that any door or opening used the seams between stone blocks without being obvious. He could find no sign of magic, so the craftsman who had done it was clearly skilled. After a quarter hour of trying to figure out how it was opened, he gave up and decided to just destroy the wall.

Will considered using a succession of force-lances to do the trick, but he wasn’t sure he could manage it without damaging whatever lay behind the stone. His grave-digging spell wasn’t designed for stone and none of the other spells he knew were any better. Stepping outside, he commandeered the first soldier he spotted, sending the man to find a pickaxe for him to use.

It took a while for the soldier to return, and though the man offered to help, Will sent him away once he had the tool. Whatever lay hidden, he wanted a chance to examine it in private before revealing it to anyone else.

He spent half an hour ruining the wall, and though he eventually got through the foot-thick façade that concealed the hidden space, he also damaged it so thoroughly he doubted he’d ever figure out how it had operated. That didn’t matter, though, what mattered was whatever it was that needed to be so well hidden.

The rectangular space held only two items, a leatherbound journal and a square metal plate made of silver and intricately inscribed with runes. Will opened the journal and then hastily dropped it as the pages within burst into flames. Within seconds, everything but the leatherbound coverboards had been incinerated. He could see the remnants of a passive enchantment written on the inside of one. Apparently, something needed to be said or done before opening, he realized. It might even have been keyed to the owner’s turyn. While he could copy specific turyn signatures, he couldn’t do it without seeing the turyn in question. Either way, it was too late now.

“Damn it.”

Will reached for the silver plate, then paused before his fingers touched it. What if something similar happened, or worse? A low growl of frustration rose in his throat. Will examined the runes visible on the side that was up, but he couldn’t make heads or tails out of what they meant. It was obviously a complex enchantment, but he couldn’t even guess at what it might do.

But it looked familiar.

He sent a messenger for Scholar Sundy, and after briefly explaining what he thought it might be meant to do, he left her to try and figure out whether the metal plate was trapped or rigged to self-destruct somehow.

“It might take me several days before I even try to move it,” she cautioned. “We’re supposed to leave tomorrow.”

“Take as long as you need. You can catch up with us after,” said Will.

“And what about Commander Bradshaw, isn’t he supposed to move into these quarters?”

“There are other rooms. He’ll understand. Send word as soon as you figure out what it does, even if you’re not sure how.” With that, Will left.

***

First Division crossed the newly repaired stone bridge the next morning. The road ahead was one of the best they would see, being paved and wide enough for two wagons to pass abreast, for it was the main thoroughfare that ran all the way to the capital of Myrsta.

Laina rode beside him, as before, and Darla trailed behind a short distance. His sister looked over and asked, “What happened to the Darrowan army?”

Of course, he’d been getting regular scouting reports since the day they had taken Klendon. “They withdrew after we destroyed the bridges, and they’ve been steadily retreating toward Myrsta ever since.”

She frowned. “They’re just ceding ground without fighting? That doesn’t seem sensible.”

“From all the intelligence, we outnumber them almost two to one at this point. Fighting on open ground would be a disaster for them, so their only choice is to pull back,” he explained.

“And then what?”

Will shrugged. “We’re far from home and getting farther, so we’re reliant on our supply lines. This is their home. The longer they can drag things out, the better it will be for them. They can raise more troops, and it will be easier to support them. They just need to find someplace they can defend and try to delay us. Either that, or they need to come up with a new plan to sever our supply lines, but that will be nigh impossible since we took Klendon.”

Laina looked thoughtful. “Then shouldn’t we be speeding up?”

“We’re twice their size—that makes it harder to use our strength,” he answered. “They already had a week’s head start. Even if we could catch them, I’d have to send lighter, faster elements ahead, and they’d be outnumbered before the rest of the army could arrive. Depending on what their commander decided, they could be most of the way to Myrsta already. Or, alternatively, they could have some other fortified position along the way. No matter what, I’m confident they’re planning to fight us from a very defensible position where they can make us pay the largest cost in men and supplies.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t seem very worried about it. Why?”

In truth, he worried constantly, but not over that point, for he’d planned for it. “Because we won’t follow their plan. If their strength is in Myrsta, or somewhere along the way, we’ll hit them elsewhere, where they’re weak.”

“But you can’t take Darrow without taking the capital.”

Will projected confidence, partly because he needed the practice for when he dealt with the senior officers, and partly because he knew it would annoy her. His expression was smug when he replied, “Can’t I?”

Laina glared at him. “I hope you plan on explaining what you intend.”

He dropped the act and gave her a serious glance. “Not here. Not now. Maybe tonight, with the proper spells to prevent eavesdropping.”

She nodded. “Fair enough. Though how anyone could eavesdrop while we’re riding out in the open with no one close enough to hear, I have no idea.”

“The longer I do this, the more paranoid I become,” he admitted. A messenger rode up then, reporting the latest from the scouts, and their conversation came to an end.

That evening he didn’t find time to explain either, as the usual arguing session, also known as a senior staff meeting, went on longer than usual. Field Marshal Lustral seemed intent on debating every minuscule issue, even when he agreed with the decisions being made. It had the effect of causing Will to doubt himself to a certain degree. Do I show enough interest in the minor details, or is it Lustral who spends too much time on minutiae? Will preferred to think it was a problem with the nobleman, but he couldn’t discount the thought that maybe he was simply biased.

Maybe he wasn’t doing enough. His doubts nagged at him constantly.

After the staff meetings, he had been spending a certain portion of time in the astral plane, and since Klendon, Will had a more focused plan concerning where he spent his time. He still checked on Selene nightly, but he managed the rest of his time observing his officers. Lustral’s private behavior didn’t change, but Will was made even more curious by the fact that Bradshaw, who remained in Klendon, had taken to using a force-dome at certain intervals during the evenings.

Of course, that was what Will often did, to prevent being spied upon, but it made him suspicious. Nerrow frequently did the same, but Will wasn’t inclined to doubt his father. Will also wondered why Lustral never used the spell. Did the man simply have nothing to hide? Or was it a ploy to make Will trust him?

But no one knows I can move around in the astral plane, do they? He couldn’t be sure. All he knew for certain was that the more he spied upon them, the more paranoid he became. There had to be a traitor, but was it the obvious choice? Or was Will missing subtler clues?

The only thing that kept him sane was consulting with the Ring of Vile and Unspeakable Knowledge. And that night he finally reported to Arrogan about the events that had happened during the battle for Klendon, and afterward.

His grandfather didn’t disappoint. “You what?”

“I cast my voice out so everyone could hear me.”

“Through the whole city?”

“And the surrounding area.”

“But you didn’t do it loudly?”

“No, I made the sound come from everywhere, at a normal volume.”

“Damn, boy. That’s definitely a greater talent. You’re lucky your first one is so versatile,” said the ring.

Will frowned. “It still doesn’t seem greater to me. Useful maybe, but it isn’t particularly awesome.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t underestimate how demoralizing it must have been for the enemy. In the long run, talents that let you destroy stuff are actually the most useless. Yours could enable you to do all sorts of things, including destroy stuff.”

He laughed. “Destroy stuff, what, by yelling at it?”

“Maybe. You should know better than me. You should be able to feel the limits of your own talent. Were there any side effects?”

“Not really. For the most part it’s really easy, unless I do something really big, like when I spoke to the entire city. That made me tired,” he answered.

Arrogan groaned. “No, dolt! Side effects, not the things you normally expect. Of course even a meta-talent will make you tired when used on that scale.”

“Meta-talent?”

“No one can hold or use that much turyn at once. A meta-talent is sort of like a ritual, except it’s more like wild magic than formal magic. Anyway, the meta refers to the fact that you’re using your turyn to act as a seed that influences a vastly greater amount of turyn indirectly. That’s the only way to do something like cast your voice across such a large area, or say, move a mountain.”

Will gaped. “Was there a wizard who could move mountains?”

“Not a mountain per se, but let’s stay on topic. Side effects?”

Will thought for a moment. “The air seemed to get colder. I think it might be borrowing heat energy to create sound.”

The ring made an odd clucking sound that seemed to signify Arrogan’s satisfaction. “Yes. That is a side effect, and more importantly, it could also be a feature.”

“A feature how?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a phonomancer!” snapped Arrogan grumpily. “Ask yourself that in a few years after you figure all of this out.” After a second, he asked, “Have you told your officers about your change of direction yet?”

Will’s current plan of action had resulted not just from his study of military history, but from consulting with others. His latest plan had come about as a result of some of Arrogan’s advice. “No, but I’m sure Lustral will lose his temper tomorrow when we get to the crossroad.”

“You don’t think he’s your spy?”

Will shrugged, even though he knew the ring couldn’t see physical gestures. “I’d like to think it’s him, since I dislike him, but that’s not evidence.”

The ring snorted. “You’re learning. A good traitor isn’t one who makes you hate him. He’s someone you like. Someone you want to trust.”

Will immediately thought of his father and felt his heart speed up briefly. He took a deep breath and let his heart rate settle down. My paranoia is getting out of hand, he told himself. A few seconds later, he asked, “Couldn’t it be Lustral anyway?”

“Could be. There’s no rule that says your traitor is smart. He could be an idiot, which means he could be a pompous ass like Lustral, who doesn’t have the sense to be sociable. To be honest, it would be best if it’s him.”

“Why?”

Arrogan chuckled darkly. “Remember what they call me in your history books?”

The Betrayer, thought Will. “Yeah.”

“If your traitor is competent, if he’s smart, you’ll never see it coming. Your first clue will be the feeling of steel sliding between your ribs.”

“You’re really trying to keep me from sleeping soundly tonight, aren’t you?” said Will ruefully. “I remember you giving me hell about being ambushed last year. Shouldn’t you be telling me how to avoid betrayal?”

“It’s sort of similar, but then again it isn’t. You have to trust someone, and betrayal comes from someone you trust, not a stranger. So it isn’t something you can protect yourself from as easily. Like I said, let’s hope your spy is Lustral or someone you don’t like. Other than that, all you can do is be wary.”

Will sighed, but he refused to despair. “At least I have three or four people I can trust absolutely.”

Arrogan’s reply challenged him, “Yeah, who?”

“Selene, Laina, Tiny, and probably Mark Nerrow.”

“Not me?”

“I only listed living people, but yeah, if you weren’t stuck in a ring, I’d have added you.”

“Just a year ago I was struggling with whether I should steal your body and shuffle your soul off to the afterlife,” remarked the ring dryly.

“You had circumstances that—”

“Everyone has circumstances,” interrupted Arrogan. “Just because you don’t know them, don’t imagine they don’t exist. Ordinary people don’t have to worry as much because the best solution is almost always for everyone to cooperate, but at the level you’re at, things are different.”

Will groaned. “Can we talk about something else? Something practical?”

“Sure.”

“Is there a spell or magic to allow people to converse over long distances? I know the Darrowans must have some way of coordinating because the knowledge of our last route change got to them too quickly,” said Will.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

The ring laughed. “That never gets old. You already know of one. The heart-stone enchantment allows the two souls that are connected to communicate. Also, if you were to astrally project to someone who was also astrally sensitive, they could see you and talk to you, and I already told you about the Wayfarer’s Society a while back.”

Will searched his memory, then responded, “The old wizard’s guild that maintained the teleportation beacons, right?”

“Exactly. In case you didn’t realize, instantaneous travel also means instantaneous communication.”

“Just letters or…?”

“They also had more sophisticated methods. By tying into the beacon network, they could use enchanted orbs to project people’s voices and images across the same distances.”

Will rubbed his chin. “What about using a silver plate and writing on it?”

“Never heard of anything like that,” admitted his grandfather. “I’m sure we would have used it during the original Terabinian War for Independence if we had had such a thing. Why do you mention it?”

Will described the enchanted plate he had found.

“I see what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t match anything I know,” said Arrogan. “If it’s like what the Wayfarer’s Society had, it would still need a beacon network to function, but then again, they had a lot of secrets. It’s possible this was something else they developed, or maybe someone has created a new method since then.”

He’d hoped for something solid to work with. “Let’s assume the worst,” said Will. “What do you think I should do?”

“Worst? This is an opportunity.”

Will grinned. “I was thinking the same thing.” He spent the rest of his time before bed discussing options.

Chapter 33

An urgent messenger with a missive from Commander Bradshaw reached them as they were setting out the next morning. Will unrolled the letter and examined it while sitting atop his horse.

I have ill news to report. Scholar Sundy was found dead in the afternoon. She was alone and it seems that the object she was studying released some sort of lethal trap. The enchantment inscribed upon it has melted away and the scholar died as a result of what appears to have been a small fiery explosion. It is possible there was foul play, but I have no firm evidence and no suspects currently.

Cmdr. Martin Bradshaw

“What is it?” asked Laina.

“Elizabeth Sundy is dead,” he replied flatly.

His sister’s eyes widened. “How?”

“I left her in Klendon to do some dangerous research. It appears the research was more dangerous than I suspected.”

“Danger intrinsic to the research, or do you think it was something more deliberate?”

As usual, his noble-born sister’s mind had leapt directly to the crux of the problem. “That’s the real question,” he replied.

She nudged her mare with one knee, bringing the horse closer, then spoke in a low voice, “Sometimes it’s best to act on suspicion rather than wait for facts.”

He glanced around, making sure no one was within earshot. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. I’m sure you suspect the same pompous ass that I do.”

“I can’t afford to make an accusation without firm proof, which I don’t have. I don’t even have circumstantial evidence.”

“The traitor isn’t constrained by such things, and Scholar Sundy has paid with her life. But you don’t have to play by the rules either.” Her eyes darted toward Darla, who rode a short distance behind them. “No one would miss him if something sudden and unexpected happened to him.”

Will looked at the arkeshi for a moment, surprised Laina would suggest something so underhanded. Darla had been an assassin before becoming Laina’s bodyguard and secret lover, but as far as he knew, the arkeshi had never practiced her fatal art since leaving Faresh lands. Before he could stop himself, he asked, “You think she could do it?”

“They would know it was done on purpose, but they’d never trace it to her—or you,” affirmed Laina.

Will still remembered the shock and horror on Laina’s face the day he had slain the soldiers that the king had commanded his sister to kill. It hadn’t weighed easily on his shoulders, and it would have been even worse for her. “You’re making suggestions that your conscience isn’t capable of accepting,” he told her.

Laina jerked her head in denial. “Lustral is different. He’s scum. I wouldn’t lose much sleep over it.”

“You’re the leader of Terabinia’s largest charity. This seems a bit out of character.”

Her eyes were hard. “I try to help those who need it. I didn’t get the position by being afraid to dirty my hands.”

Will wondered just how much he really understood about Laina. In the beginning, he had thought her simply spoiled, then he’d learned of her charitable works and realized he hadn’t truly seen her. Now he was learning that even that wasn’t the final layer. She’s got more layers than an onion, he thought wryly. Try to peel them all away and she’ll make you cry. “Have you ever had to give an order like this before?” he asked seriously.

She hesitated. “No, not like this precisely. But I’ve had to deal with rough men before.”

“If you’re ever tempted again, come talk to me,” he told her. “This isn’t something you want lying in the back of your mind. Trust me.”

Laina’s lips tightened into an incongruously girlish pout, considering the dark deed she had just suggested. “Then what do you intend to do?”

“I’ll wait for evidence.”

“People will die while you wait. A traitor at that level could cost you half the army or worse,” she warned.

“That isn’t all I’ll be doing.”

“Are you going to share your plan?” Her eyes were intent and challenging. Laina didn’t enjoy being kept in the dark any better than his subordinates did.

Will pulled off his glove and reached toward her with his right hand. “Not here, not out loud, but if you want to know…” He left the rest unspoken, but she understood immediately. The last time they had made direct contact she had felt the draw. Their souls had been fused for a short time the previous year, and now both of them were left with a constant feeling of incompleteness. A small touch and an even smaller effort of will and they would begin to fuse again, enabling them to share their thoughts.

She started to reach for his hand before abruptly putting her hand firmly down against her riding trousers. “That’s probably not a good idea,” she said reluctantly.

“Sorry, you’re right.” Will felt guilty immediately, for he had known it was a bad idea. He had let his own impulse get the better of him. “You’ll just have to trust me for now,” he told her bluntly.

The rest of the day passed without incident. That afternoon, First began setting up camp while the following divisions trickled in behind them and Will began reviewing the reports from the advance scouts who were already beginning to return. They’d found no sign of any significant enemy force in the region, although there were definitely smaller units still moving about.

Will ate with some of the senior officers from First and Second, then retired early to catch up on his personal practice as well as to have time to do a brief bit of astral spying. He didn’t learn anything new, so he went to sleep at a reasonable hour, grateful for a chance to catch up on his sleep.

He was destined for disappointment.

Will woke in darkness to the sound of something sharp cutting through tent canvas nearby. Adrenaline shot through him, and as he started to sit up, he heard a grunt and a sharp release of breath, as though someone had taken a hard blow to the stomach. There was no time for armor, but Will summoned his falchion to hand while simultaneously readjusting his vision to see in the dim gloom.

His first brief vision was of something moving incredibly fast, something with claws. Jerking back, he fell over his cot with an undignified yelp and might well have died then, when a second figure leapt through the hole he could now see gaping in the side of the tent. Scrambling across the ground, Will tried to disentangle himself from the remnants of his bed while the second figure fought with the first.

It had taken a second, but Will’s brain finally began to unscramble what he was seeing. A vampire was in the tent with him, and the smaller figure fighting it was probably that of Darla, Laina’s arkeshi bodyguard. The fiend was hissing and spitting as the arkeshi’s silver-inlaid blades left smoking wounds, but it hadn’t taken serious damage.

Will had seen the woman hold her own against the Drak’shar in the past, but only with careful preparation. The current battleground heavily favored the blood-drinker’s enhanced senses and speed. The fiend whirled, and Will shivered at the sound of its claws ripping through Darla’s nightshirt and the skin beneath it. It was a sickening, wet, tearing noise that no one could forget. The blow also carried considerable force, for Darla’s body went crashing through the tent wall behind her, bringing down one of the poles holding everything up.

Canvas drifted down and Will’s mind registered that in a moment he would be trapped in the equivalent of a cloth bag with a superhuman monster and no way of seeing. Fortunately, his mind and body were at last ready to respond to what was happening.

As the canvas drifted down, almost to their heads, he shouted, “Hey!” There hadn’t really been a purpose to the shout, but as the monster turned, he sent a force-lance at it and the space its head had previously occupied became a red mist of exploding skull and brain tissue. That wasn’t enough to dispatch one of the Drak’shar, but Will figured it was a good start. At the very least it could be considered an extreme inconvenience. Summoning a silver clima, Will cast the silver-sword spell, and his falchion lit up with argent flames.

The spell generally made any blade deadly sharp, painfully bright, and it was particularly devastating against vampires, which was why the ancient wizard Ethelgren had originally created it. It was also handy when used to cut away falling canvas so as to prevent becoming shrouded in one’s rapidly disassembled temporary shelter.

His head emerged into the night air as he cut his way free, then Will turned and used the flaming sword to permanently dispatch the thrashing canvas lump that represented the headless vampire’s body.

It also set his tent on fire but given the general lack of illumination, Will decided to take that as a bonus. Casting his gaze back and forth, he quickly located Darla, who was already on her feet and returning, though with a noticeable catch in her stride. Shouts were going up around them and lanterns were being lit, but Will focused on the arkeshi first. “Are you all right?” With a thought, he summoned a blood-cleanse potion and one of his precious regeneration potions.

She waved them away, then showed him an already empty vial. “I’ve been prepared for something like this since last year.”

Will recognized the vial as one of those he had sold to Wurthaven in bulk back when he’d been trying to save himself from debtor’s prison, then his eyes went to the ragged tears and dark stains on her nightdress. “A blood-cleanse potion is a good start, but you need healing as well or you won’t be able to protect anyone tomorrow.”

The former assassin accepted the regeneration potion but did not drink it immediately. “After the sun comes up. I can sleep while we ride. For now, I can still fight if it becomes necessary.”

“Stubborn,” he said in irritation, though he knew he probably would have done the same. Then he added, “Thank you. I probably would have died if you hadn’t distracted it.”

“Them,” Darla corrected, then pointed to a dark shape a short distance away. “There were two. We need to finish the other before it heals.”

The creature in question was mostly whole, but Darla had hamstrung it, rendering its legs useless. They were clean cuts, which would ordinarily have healed almost immediately, but for the fact that silver had poisoned the wounds. The Drak’shar would heal, in time, but Will made sure it wouldn’t have that. Rather than get close enough to use his sword, he constructed a fire-blast spell he’d learned and incinerated the hissing monster.

By then, the entire camp was awake and alert. Reports were made and messengers sent to the other divisions. There hadn’t been any other attacks. The army was safe. Eventually, with two squads of men standing shoulder to shoulder around his new tent, Will was able to attempt sleep. Darla and Laina had moved their sleeping arrangements and were now in the front section of the tent.

So much for a good night’s rest, thought Will, staring up at the tentpole above his head. He tossed fitfully for a quarter of an hour and then gave up. Summoning the limnthal, he decided to discuss things with the Ring of Vile and Unspeakable Knowledge.

“Is the war over yet?” asked Arrogan.

Will sighed. “It’s still just getting started.” He spent several minutes describing the evening’s excitement.

“How did they get past your wards?”

He grimaced sourly. I knew he’d ask that. “I didn’t have any.”

“Why not?”

“They take forever to put up. Do you have any idea how many things I have to take care of every evening when we make camp? I’m lucky to have time to eat.”

“Cry me a river! It isn’t as though you’re still digging latrines. If you can’t afford to spend a couple of minutes to put up wards at night you deserve to be eaten,” snapped his grandfather.

Will gaped. “A couple of minutes?”

“Did I stutter? You told me you learned how to set up wards last semester, didn’t you?”

“I did, but it takes a lot longer than a few minutes, otherwise we’d use them around the whole camp,” explained Will.

A long moment of silence followed, then Arrogan responded, “Do I take that to mean that you aren’t putting wards around the camps at night? What keeps the enemy from slitting your throats?”

Exasperated, Will growled, “Sentries and a careful watch schedule. How in the hell do you think I’m supposed to put wards around an army? Do you have any idea how big our perimeter is? It would take me half the night just to walk it.”

“Dolt! That’s why you have all those idiot sorcerer lackeys with you. Can’t they lay down a proper ward? Wait, don’t answer that. Those fools probably couldn’t even make a light if their lives depended on it.”

That irritated Will even more. “They may not be proper wizards, but I spent months with them. They’re all capable spellcasters and I’ll thank you not to badmouth them.”

“Oh my! Papa Will’s gone sensitive over his pet sorcerers. Fine, let’s assume they’re proficient. You’ve spread them out through the companies, they should divvy up the chore and each of them should do the work for their portion of the perimeter. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy or power intensive, just an alarm to warn the camp if a monster tries to sneak in.”

Will rubbed his face, then scratched his head. “They’d still have to do fifty yards or more each, maybe a hundred. If it takes me half an hour to ward a tent, think how long it would take to inscribe that length!”

Another pause followed, then his grandfather began again, this time in a calmer tone. “Obviously, there’s something missing in our conversation. Why don’t you describe your process for laying a ward? Maybe that will help me understand why this is such a problem for you.”

“It’s similar to constructing a spell, except much longer and you don’t discharge it at the end. You invest it with turyn and leave it in place. If anything it’s set to interact with enters the boundary created, it triggers a spell effect of some sort,” explained Will patiently.

Arrogan wasn’t satisfied, however. “Yes, but describe how you lay it out.”

With a sigh, Will did. “Just like a spell. You create the runes in sequence and…”

“Stop there. You didn’t mention an ingram.”

“What’s that?”

The ring laughed. “Something they should have mentioned at the very beginning of your class on wards. It’s sort of like a stencil, but for warding.”

“What’s a stencil?”

“Oh, right. You’ve progressed so much I sometimes forget you’re a damned ignoramus,” said Arrogan dryly. “A stencil is a cutout, usually in metal or wood that allows you to paint a specific design over and over. You lay it down and paint over it, but only the places that you’ve cut out let the paint through. That’s not the point, though. An ingram is similar, but it can be made out of a lot of different things, and obviously there’s no paint involved. For large-scale wards, the most popular choice is a long strip of cloth embroidered or painted with the runes you intend to create. The first time you have to actually create the ward in the usual fashion, overlaying runes of pure turyn that match those drawn on your ingram, but after that you can do it much more quickly.”

“How so?”

“So, let’s say you use an ingram one night, then the next day you dispel your ward and collect your cloth strip. The next night when you go to do it again there’s still a residual imprint of turyn remaining within the fabric. You just have to pay attention and invest the turyn, but the ward will re-create itself. So long as you don’t go more than three or four days between using it, the residual turyn will be strong enough for it to work. If you have a lot of time, you can create a permanent ingram using certain artificing procedures, but since you obviously didn’t prepare, you’ll have to do it the quick and dirty way.”

Will sat in stunned silence, hardly able to believe how simple it sounded. Arrogan continued, “The last time I went to war, we used short, wooden stakes. The fabric was attached at intervals, and whenever we took the wards down, we’d just pull the stakes out of the ground and roll everything up. The next time we used it, we simply unrolled them, stretched everything out, hammered the stakes in, and invested the ward with turyn. With several hundred sorcerers, you should be able to ward even an enormous army camp like yours in less than half an hour, and most of that’s just setting up the stakes. The investing only takes a couple of minutes.”

The first thing that came to mind fell from his lips. “Why hasn’t anyone suggested this before?” He paused, realizing the answer even as he spoke. “The method was forgotten—but it’s so simple.”

“Sometimes the simplest things are the easiest to lose. There haven’t been any big wars since the Terabinian War for Independence, and I got rid of most of the top wizards afterward.”

“But this was something every wizard would have known, not just the most important ones.”

“If you don’t need to lay lengthy wards regularly, it would be easy to overlook. A few generations of security and safety, and the technique fell out of use,” opined Arrogan. “Combine that with the fact that there weren’t any real wizards after a short time, just lazy sorcerers. I wouldn’t put it past them to forget how to wipe their own asses.”

They ended the conversation there, and since Will was too wound up to sleep, he started making plans. He sorted through the simple wards he knew and chose one that would sound a loud alarm whenever someone crossed, but he added a small change. The original only reacted to living creatures, meaning creatures that used void turyn, like the undead and demons, wouldn’t trigger it. He was able to put specific provisions in for creatures using void turyn that he thought would cover those possibilities.

By the time the first horns were blowing to wake the slumbering soldiers, he was already calling in the student sorcerers, the division quartermasters, and the senior officers. Extra canvas they had in quantity, but paint and ink were in short supply. They actually had enough black thread to consider embroidery, but the time required was completely out of the question.

They managed to make enough to put wards around the officers’ areas the next night, but Will sent a messenger back to Klendon to let Commander Bradshaw know what they would need. He also added paint to the list of things that the daily foragers would be looking for in any farms or small villages they passed.

Hopefully, they’d be able to correct their deficiency within a few days. Now that he knew it was possible, he wanted the entire camp warded at night.

Chapter 34

The army didn’t move that day, so instead their focus was entirely on sending foraging parties into the surrounding countryside. Foraging was an important activity, and one that all armies relied on to different degrees depending on the situation and location. In the mountains, they relied mainly on the supply train, but some effort was still spent on obtaining wild game. Unless they were moving at a forced march, some portion of the army was sent out every day to procure extra supplies.

Once they entered more civilized farmlands, foraging continued, though the focus shifted more to obtaining fresh meat and other perishables from local farms and markets. Historically, depending on the war, foraging companies might simply confiscate or steal whatever was needed, or more commonly simply pay a tenth of the market price. Will had insisted that they refrain from outright theft. Given the huge quantities needed, they couldn’t pay market price (especially since that price usually doubled during times of conflict) but they would pay something close to a fair price. Specifically, he instructed them to pay at least three-fourths the ordinary price of the year before.

Naturally, the farmers and merchants were still unhappy about it, but given the alternatives and historical precedents, they knew better than to complain.

Every foraging company went out with an officer empowered to make bargains and sign local contracts, and although Will’s policies were considered excessively lenient, they had an immediate impact on the results. Vastly more goods were located and acquired than they expected.

In hindsight, the reason was simple. Given something close to a fair value, it wasn’t worth the effort or risk for the locals to hide or conceal their livestock and produce. The soldiers from Terabinia maintained professional courtesy and refrained from banditry, so shepherds and ranchers had no need to ‘run for the hills.’

Although the cost to Terabinia was still large, for feeding an army that size was no mean feat, even paying three-fourths of the previous year’s market price saved the nation considerable money, because for every pound of food purchased in Darrow, a pound didn’t need to be moved across the mountains.

Back in Klendon, Commander Bradshaw was able to save costs on what was shipped from home, and more importantly, was able to stockpile the nonperishable items in the event that local supplies dried up in the future. Will’s policy wasn’t popular with most of the senior command, but when all the numbers were totted up someday, the kingdom’s accountants would realize that he had saved Terabinia a massive sum on the price of the war.

It was in the evening two days later when they finally arrived at one of the largest and most central crossroads in Darrow. The road leading from Klendon split at that point, and the southeastern fork followed the River Lymsee upstream and through the hilly central portion of Darrow before reaching the capital of Myrsta. The other fork crossed a massive stone bridge, then followed the same river downstream. Downstream, the river met and joined the River Tyrafel just before it passed by the major port city of Maldon and emptied into the North Sea.

The plan at that point was to follow the road to Myrsta and engage the enemy along the way if possible, or at the walls of the city if not. Given the lead that the Darrowan army had, there was no chance of catching them in the open, but Will had continued giving lip service to the idea that they would follow that route.

He went so far as to keep his actual plans to himself until the next morning when First Division began breaking camp, but at the last possible moment, he summoned Field Marshal Lustral and Sub-Marshal Nicht for a quick meeting. Will didn’t beat about the bush as he addressed the two men. “You’ll be advancing with First Division toward Myrsta, but Second and the rest will remain here for several days before following.”

Nicht’s face showed surprise, but Lustral’s cheeks immediately colored with anger. “That wasn’t what we agreed on,” spat the frustrated duke.

“Nevertheless, it’s what I’ve decided,” said Will flatly.

“How are we going to catch them if—”

Will shook his head. “We aren’t. You already know this. They’re too far ahead of us. We’re in for a siege when we get to Myrsta, and I don’t see any need to rush into it.”

Nicht broke in, “Then why send us with only the First?”

“To keep pressure on them. I’d rather they not make a leisurely trip of it. If they’re in a hurry, they’ll leave more supplies in the towns and villages for us to collect, which brings me to my second reason. While you’re keeping pressure on them to retreat, we’ll operate from the crossroad here to thoroughly forage central Darrow.”

“We already have enough supplies,” argued Lustral. “Bradshaw reaffirmed that in his last missive. Is your peasant stomach still worried you’ll starve?”

Nicht grimaced at the insult, then quickly spoke to break the tension. “What if the enemy realize it’s just First that is advancing? They might turn to engage. We won’t have the strength to carry the day if that happens.”

“First has more veterans and experienced soldiers than any of the other divisions—don’t sell them short. From our best estimates, the retreating Darrowan force is less than twice the size of one of our divisions and we’ll be close behind you if they show a taste for blood. The Patriarch can’t afford to throw away his soldiers in a costly field battle. Not when he’s got a fortified position that will cost us much more to assail.”

“This is ridiculous!” complained the field marshal.

Will continued to ignore the man’s unprofessional behavior and continued to address Nicht. “Keep sending out scouts and move cautiously. Let them know you’re coming and if there’s any sign they might be turning back, dig in and send word for us to reinforce you.”

Lustral started to say something else, but Will cut him short. “You’re dismissed.” He left the nobleman fuming. Replaying the moment in his mind as he walked back to the command tent put a smile on his face that he had to work hard to hide. He waited a full hour, until First was on the march, before calling the rest of the senior officers for a separate meeting.

Most of them already had questions on their faces, but they waited for Will to lay out his orders before making any comments. “Sub-Marshal Spry, you’ll remain here with Third Division to coordinate a comprehensive foraging effort as well as ensuring that both the road and the bridge here remain open to us. If First sends word of trouble, you’re to move forward to reinforce them, but otherwise you’ll hold this position for the foreseeable future. Feel free to fell some lumber and put the men to work building a more permanent camp. Second, Fifth, and Sixth Divisions will be heading north with me.”

That got a reaction out of them. Sub-Marshal Nerrow was the first to recover. “This is unexpected. Do you intend to strike for Maldon?”

Will nodded. “All our intelligence indicates that the main body of the Patriarch’s army has retreated to the capital, which leaves Maldon with a much smaller force to defend its walls. If we move quickly, we may be able to encircle the city before they’ve had a chance to prepare for a siege.”

Commander Lambel spoke up, “Begging your pardon, sir, but it will be at least a four-day march to Maldon. They’ll have plenty of time to prepare for our arrival.”

“We can make it in two days if we force march,” said Will. “Which is what I intend to do.”

“The men will be too tired to fight,” warned Commander Hargast.

“They won’t need to. Three divisions are enough to keep the local garrison from thinking about engaging us. It’s more important to get there quickly and force them to shut their gates before they can bring in supplies. We march in haste, herd them into their city, then we can let the men rest for at least a day before taking any action,” Will explained.

“It’s still a siege, even if they aren’t well supplied. Even with luck, we might take weeks or months to gain the city, and that still doesn’t accomplish our directive. The Patriarch is in Myrsta, and until we take the capital, Darrow isn’t ours,” observed Sub-Marshal Nerrow.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Will. “A nation isn’t its leader; a nation is comprised of its people. With Maldon in our hands, there will be nothing of substance left for the Patriarch except the capital. At that point we have only to wait, for there will be no relief coming to save him. Meanwhile, the nation will already be ours.”

Nerrow nodded in agreement, but Hargast spoke again. “That doesn’t make sense. If we don’t have the capital we haven’t won, and the nation isn’t ours. We’re invaders in a foreign land. Before long the locals will be poisoning the food they sell us.”

Hargast had been one of the most outspoken against Will’s foraging and recompensation policies. Unperturbed, Will responded, “You’re looking at this in the wrong light. The civilians here aren’t our enemy. They’re citizens of the new Terabinia. Paying the farmers for their goods is just the beginning. From what we’ve seen, the people aren’t that enamored of the religion of the Prophet. Take that away, treat them fairly and tax them justly, and they’ll become loyal citizens faster than you realize.”

Commander Hargast started to say something else, but Will held up a hand and continued, “Speaking as a former peasant, the people don’t really care who’s collecting their taxes so long as they’re being treated fairly. With the majority of the nation under our control, all we need do is show them some kindness and the Patriarch’s rule is over, whether or not we ever root him out of his fortress.” After a second, he added, “That being said, I do intend to take Myrsta as well, but that’s the last item on my list.”

There was more discussion after that, but nothing of substance. Eventually the officers ran out of things to say, and Will brought the meeting to a close. At the end he asked Sub-Marshal Spry to remain behind, and once the others were gone, he gave the man some additional instructions. “Don’t inform First Division of our change in plans. As far as they are to know, we’re simply doing some extended foraging.”

The young count gave him a knowing glance. “You mean don’t let the field marshal know, don’t you, sir?”

Will feigned innocence. “I trust all of my officers. I said it as I meant it.”

Spry winked, then answered, “Understood, sir.”

They marched hard that day, keeping up the pace for a full fourteen hours before stopping. Most civilians had the impression that a forced march involved the soldiers increasing their pace, but that really wasn’t the case. The reason they covered more ground was because they marched longer, cutting out the time required to set up a proper camp, minor earthworks, or even cook. They marched until there wasn’t enough light to see by, and then they stopped for a cold supper of water and dried rations. The wards were set, watches organized, and the men settled down to sleep. Although they would be rising eight hours later, due to the watch schedule, most of the men got only four or five hours of sleep before beginning another fourteen hours on their feet.

It was a tough schedule, but one the army was fully capable of for a week or longer if necessary, so long as no one expected them to stop and fight. Weariness and fatigue were the enemies of morale, and engaging in a battle while the soldiers were that tired would inevitably lead to disaster.

Fortunately, they only had to do it for two days, and as Will predicted, the smaller garrison forces left in the region near Maldon didn’t dare poke the bear once they saw the size of the Terabinian force. They were in sight of Maldon by the end of the second day, though it would be the next morning before they could encircle the walls and set up a proper siege. Will smiled to think of the panicked movements that would be going on during the city’s last free night as people crowded in and everyone scrambled to gather in what they could. Haste would cost them, but he hadn’t given them any choice.

While the camp was settling in, Will received the final reports from the scouts he’d sent out during the afternoon, as well as an urgent message that had come in from Sub-Marshal Spry. He read Spry’s missive first:

Marshal, I trust this finds you well and nearing Maldon already. Unfortunately, I must report that Field Marshal Lustral has sent word of a fierce counterattack by the Darrowan military. First Division has come to a halt and may be facing a superior number of enemies. Per your standing orders, I have already ordered Third Division into motion, and we are moving to reinforce the First. I am leaving only one company at the crossroads to facilitate messenger relays. I have also sent duplicate messages to Cmdr. Bradshaw in Klendon to keep him informed.

I will continue to send messengers every twelve hours to keep you advised of the situation. Please advise if you wish me to adjust my current course in any way.

Sub-Marshal Spry

Will’s fist tightened as he read the letter, and he had to work hard to refrain from swearing. People were watching him. Any sign of worry or distress would filter down through the entire army. “Wait here,” he told the rider. “I’ll pen a response for you.”

Lieutenant Renly spoke up. “Let him rest, sir. It will be a different rider that takes your response.”

Another stupid mistake, but Will kept his face calm. “Of course.” He nodded to the messenger. “Dismissed.” Then he went in to write a reply. He had no sooner sat down at the camp desk when Renly entered.

“Perhaps you should listen to the scouting reports before you send your reply. It may affect your decisions,” said his assistant.

He suppressed his irritation and took Renly’s advice. The scouts’ reports didn’t improve his mood, though. They’d seen little sign of the enemy as the army marched, but they’d been instructed to make note of farms and villages so that the foraging parties would have a good idea of where to start once the army had settled in around Maldon.

What they reported was bleak. Whoever was in charge of the region surrounding Maldon had adopted a scorched-earth policy. Livestock were found slaughtered and left to rot, fields had been burned, and in some cases even the farmers had paid with their lives, apparently while protesting against the destruction of their livelihood.

“Son of a bitch,” Will muttered. Even if his plan for Maldon worked quickly, people were going to starve if the first spring harvests didn’t come in—not his people, but the citizens of Darrow. He glanced up at Renly. “Send for Sub-Marshal Nerrow. I want to see him immediately, and in private.”

His father showed up less than fifteen minutes later, followed a moment later by Laina and Darla, despite Lieutenant Renly’s protests. Will stood and began issuing commands before they could even exchange greetings. “Find Janice,” he told Laina. “Tell her to get Emory and Bug together. I want them to begin their assessment tonight.”

She frowned. “They’ve hardly rested. We’ve been marching for two days. They’re just as tired as the soldiers—”

“I don’t care,” he snapped, cutting her off. “They can sleep in the morning.” He stopped there, staring at her.

Laina looked between him and her father for a moment, uncertain. Then Mark Nerrow spoke up, “I think he means now.”

Her face colored, but she said nothing as she backed out. Will called after her, “Return as soon as you’ve spoken to Janice. I’ll need you again.”

Mark chuckled. “She’s going to make you suffer for that later. What’s the news?”

“Everyone’s suffering,” said Will waspishly. Wasting few words, he explained the news he’d received from the scouts.

His father’s reaction was mild. “You probably should have expected something like this. You’ve made them desperate.”

“I’m looking for advice.”

The sub-marshal shrugged. “This doesn’t affect us in any material way. There’s no need to alter your plans.”

Will found himself grinding his teeth. It was this aspect of his father that he despised the most, despite the recent improvements in their relationship. The man was a noble, born and bred, and the suffering of the lower classes didn’t bother him much. But it was also why he needed the man’s advice. “As a landowner, you’ve had to manage many people and villages over the years. How bad do you think this will hurt the locals?”

The baron grew thoughtful and pondered for a full minute before answering, “The first spring harvest is crucial in most regions. They’ve probably used up most of what they had to get through the winter, if it wasn’t taken to supply Maldon already. Even if there weren’t a war on and they could replant immediately, it will be eight weeks…” He stopped to rub his chin. “I’d figure most of the elderly and the very young won’t last, but the majority of the working generation will probably survive, though they’ll come through much lighter than they started.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

His father studied him for a moment. “You should know by now that I’m not a heartless bastard, nor am I entirely bound by tradition and class limits—your mother is proof enough of that—but in the end, these are not my people. I can’t afford to allow excessive compassion to weaken my resolve in this war—and neither can you.”

The candor surprised him. Will had never heard the man bring Erisa up in conversation, even when they were alone. The mention of something so close to him might have unnerved him under normal circumstances, but he was already angry and worried. Worried for the people no one seemed to care about. His features hardened as he replied, “That’s where you’re wrong. These are our people.”

“Maybe once we win this war but—”

“Those are the thoughts of a loser,” Will interrupted, passion filling his voice. “Think like a king instead. We will win this war, we must. In considering the people here, we must make decisions based on the future reality that we are now creating. Though they do not realize it yet, these are citizens of a new Terabinia. Thinking of them as anything else will only delay their admission into our society.”

Mark Nerrow’s face took on a look of consternation. “Ideals are a fine thing, son, so long as you don’t fully invest yourself in them. As a man of influence, you must learn to hold them at arm’s length lest they consume you.”

He shook his head. “As much as I despise our king, this is something I’ve learned from him, or in spite of him.” Will paused for a second, thinking, then continued, “No, I think it was from him. Lognion believes in very little, but his confidence in himself is absolute. He will do anything to maintain his power, and fortunately he has decided that for the most part, maintaining a safe and healthy kingdom accomplishes that goal.”

His father blanched at the mention of the king. “He’s evil, not to mention mad. You are not the former, though at times I begin to wonder about your sanity. Don’t make me doubt you further.”

Will’s jaw firmed. “If this is madness, I will embrace it, not for my own sake, but for the sake of those who have no power for themselves. I’m not sure I know the difference between evil and expedience anymore, but we’re going to help those people.”

Laina stepped into the room then. She’d returned several minutes ago and had been waiting outside, listening to their conversation. Will’s ears had warned him of her presence, but he hadn’t minded her listening. As she entered, he could see a determination in her eyes that matched his own. “If he’s mad, count me in with him, Father,” she announced. “This was one of my two main reasons for coming along for this war.”

The baron looked back and forth between his two rebellious children, then sighed. “Rather than argue over vague principles, tell me what you intend to do.”

“We’re going to feed them,” said Will.

Chapter 35

Will’s first orders went with three riders that night, one for First Division, one for the men stationed at the crossroads, and one for Commander Bradshaw back in Klendon. Laina would be leaving with Darla and a small escort of two squads the next morning, bound for Klendon as well. Will’s orders had been clear, but she had felt that making a personal appearance there to reinforce the seriousness of his commands would be helpful. Plus, she was personally connected with the senior leadership within the Mothers of Terabinia, who had lent the majority of their resources to Bradshaw’s logistical efforts.

It wouldn’t be easy to ignore her.

She had fretted over leaving him without protection, or rather without Darla’s protection, but her bodyguard steadfastly refused to let her travel alone. Will assured her he would take every precaution.

“You’d better,” Laina warned. “If you die then I’ll have broken my promise to Selene.”

He smirked. “I’d be a little upset about it as well. You should go get some rest. You’ve got a long road ahead of you in the morning.”

She nodded but didn’t move. “What are you going to do about the attack on First Division?”

“We don’t know how serious it is yet. I suspect it’s just a feint, or even worse, that Lustral may have tipped the Darrowans off to force me to abandon my attempt at taking Maldon. So, for now, I’m sticking to my plan. The Third has already moved up to reinforce them. With two full divisions, the Patriarch would have to throw everything he has at them, and he can’t afford the cost in soldiers.”

“That’s logical,” observed Laina, “but people don’t always do what’s logical. Isn’t your cousin in First Division? Aren’t you worried about him?”

There was a hard lump in his stomach, but Will kept his features relaxed. “His name is Eric, but I’m confident he’ll be safe. Even though I can’t let that knowledge affect my decisions, I still feel confident. The Darrowans will keep retreating toward Myrsta, they can’t afford not to, and if Lustral really is a traitor, they won’t want to engage him. Wherever Lustral is will be the safest place in this army.” It has to be, he added mentally.

“It’s a gamble then,” said Laina.

Will shook his head. He’d studied hard before the war. He’d stayed up to date on all the intelligence reports before they left, and he had the best advisor in the world in the ring on his hand. His plans might seem sudden or abrupt, but that was simply proof that they would also surprise the enemy. Everything had been carefully thought out. “It isn’t gambling.”

“You’re gambling that your information and your thinking is better than the enemy’s. I’m not disagreeing with you. So far, you’ve proved your critics wrong at every turn, but just be aware that no matter how sure you are, in war, everything is ultimately a gamble.”

He was beginning to grow irritated with his sister’s preaching. “Do you have a point?”

She nodded. “I’ve never played a high-stakes game, but I remember what Father always says about gambling. Never gamble with anything you aren’t willing to lose.”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “You think I should give up Maldon, just in case? I won’t do that.”

“I think your plan is sound. Instead, I think you should send for your cousin. You’re the Royal Marshal, you can do what you want. Make up an excuse, doesn’t matter what it is. Bring him here and position him somewhere out of harm’s way.”

How often had he wished to do that very thing? Will clenched his jaw. “I can’t do that. Not only would it violate my own principles regarding privilege, but Eric wouldn’t thank me for it either. He’d be furious if he thought I was trying to protect him. Not to mention everyone he’s fought with would see the move for exactly what it is, nepotism.”

Laina’s eyes caught fire. “Don’t look at me like that when you say nepotism. I know what you think of the nobility. I care more for the common people than anyone else in this camp.”

“And yet you’re still advising me to abuse my power to assist a family member,” he shot back.

“Yes! Just because you were raised a peasant doesn’t make you more virtuous! In fact, most commoners would make the same decision without even thinking twice about it.”

“When you’re utterly without power, you can’t abuse it,” he corrected. “The only thing the lower classes can do is take care of one another.”

“Well don’t say I didn’t warn you, peasant,” growled Laina. “I truly hope you don’t find out why the nobility don’t hesitate to use their power to benefit their family. Don’t come crying to me if something bad happens.”

In the midst of her rebuttal, Will felt his heart soften. Misguided she might be, but he knew Laina was trying to protect him. “Even peasants have pride, you noble-bitch,” he responded, but there was no venom in his voice and a smile played at the corner of his lips.

Her eyes went wide at the vulgar insult, but then the fire in them died. “If you hadn’t married into the royal family, I’d have you whipped for that. Turn around.”

“Why?” he asked, but he turned around anyway.

Laina’s arms encircled his waist. “So, I don’t have to look at your face, pig.” She squeezed tightly, then added, “Keep yourself safe. If anything happens to you, I’ll come back and kill you all over again, but I’ll make it twice as painful.”

She left, and he went for a short walk to the edge of the camp, muttering a particular name quietly to himself. The urgency of the current situation meant he needed to finish matters in Maldon as quickly as possible, and that in turn meant he needed to use every resource available to him. He felt a response as soon as he said her name, and soon after he reached the edge of the camp, he saw her approach. Will crossed the wards because he didn’t think Tailtiu could cross without setting off the alarm.

Her eyes were approving as she studied the ward lines behind him. “Your wisdom has grown, master.”

Will frowned. “That doesn’t suit you. You’ve never called me that before.”

“I’ve never been who I am before,” Tailtiu replied whimsically. “Until I figure out what that means, I intend to serve you with the fervent obedience of a devoted slave.” She licked her lips at the end.

She’s definitely still who she was, he observed silently. “Don’t call me master,” he ordered. “I’ll use a favor if necessary.”

She lifted one brow, then called his bluff. “Go ahead.”

Not one to back down, he replied, “In exchange for one of the unbound favors you owe me, I demand that you not address me as master.”

Tailtiu smiled impishly. “Certainly, master. Anything you wish, master.” She moved forward as she spoke, and before he could get over his shock and decide if she was a threat, she brought one hand slowly up and then seized the back of his neck. The other hand found his waist, pulling him tightly to her in an iron grip. She was impossibly strong.

“Stop! What are you doing? You realize this puts you further in debt,” he warned, fighting to keep his panic hidden. How did she ignore my order?

“I don’t care,” she whispered, breathing heavily into neck. “Nothing can bind me anymore. I can do whatever I please.”

“What’s come over you?”

Her teeth found his earlobe, sending a tiny jolt of pain through him. “Free will—master. How do you like it?” The hand that had been on his hip migrated lower, kneading his backside like dough while her thigh moved against his groin. “It seems like you do like it.”

He tried to break free, but the hand behind his neck held on with fingers that felt harder than steel. Will had fought her many times in the past, and he knew how strong she was. The key was never letting her get so close, because at the moment he had no leverage. She could snap his neck like a twig if she chose, and though he wasn’t sure what had changed—her rules no longer seemed to circumscribe her actions.

Desperate, he wondered if he could initiate a force-lance close enough to his body to drive her away. He wasn’t sure he could, and it wouldn’t kill her, but he also wasn’t sure if it was the best option. Will hissed in pain as her fingers dug into his neck, forcing him to be still.

Tailtiu froze. “What was that?”

“You’re hurting me,” Will answered. “I’m not immune to pain. That’s what humans do when they’re hurt.”

The expression on her face shifted, her body relaxed, and then after a moment, Tailtiu released him. “Forgive me, master. I did not mean to hurt you.”

He glared at her. “Then what the hell did you mean to do?”

She leered. “I think that’s obvious, but I didn’t intend to cause you pain.” For a moment, she stared into the air off to one side, deep in thought. “Is there a way to force you without causing pain?”

She’s actually serious. Will tried not to gape. “No, and even if there was, it would still hurt me here.” He pointed at his heart. “Emotional pain is even worse than physical pain. You know I’m faithful to my wife.”

“You would still be faithful if I forced you,” argued Tailtiu.

He shook his head. “It would still hurt me. I don’t understand what’s going on here. You’re willing to rape me, but you balk at causing pain? What’s going on in your mind?”

His aunt shrugged. “I’m learning. My only firm conclusion so far is that pain is evil, but I’m not really sure about right and wrong. They seem very arbitrary. If I do what I want and no one is hurt, is it really wrong?”

“That depends,” he answered. “Why aren’t you following your rules?”

“I think it’s this soul,” said Tailtiu. “None of the old traditions restrain me anymore. I’m like you, only better.”

“How so?”

“Limitless magic and immortality,” she responded immediately. “You should let me change you. Then you could be like me.”

“But I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have a soul anymore. Whatever it is that has happened to you Tailtiu, you’re the only one.”

She thought for a moment, then her eyes softened. “If you lost your soul from the change, I could give you half of mine.”

That would be incredibly sweet, even romantic, if she wasn’t an amoral killer who scared the shit out of me, thought Will. “Well you can’t. Let me decide what’s right and wrong for now, until you get a better understanding of your newfound freedom.”

She nodded happily. “That is precisely why I call you master, master.”

He sighed. “I guess I’m stuck with that moniker.” Then something else struck him. “If favors and debts no longer bind you, what about the truth? Can you lie now?”

“No,” she replied, “not at all,” as her head nodded, and her lips smiled an affirmation.

“Mother help us all,” he swore.

“Mother says I’m an abomination,” she chimed in.

“I didn’t mean her—never mind. I called you here because I need your aid. Will you still help me, even though you’re free?”

Tailtiu nodded. “I already told you. You’re my master now, my guide. I will serve in any way I can.”

It was difficult to fathom the strangeness within her. She claims she’ll do anything, yet just a moment ago she was prepared to force me… Will shook his head to clear it. From now on I will have to be doubly careful around her. “I need a mist,” he told her. “Enough to cover the entire city of Maldon for a day. Can you do it?”

She smiled wickedly. “Where your sorcerers and other servants are lacking, I can provide whatever you need. I am all you need.”

“Be ready. It will either be tomorrow or the next day. I’ll call you when it’s time.”

She bowed.

“And Tailtiu…”

“Yes?”

His eyes were hard. “If you ever do that again, I won’t hold back.”

Her nostrils flared, and she licked her lips once again. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

“No. I mean I’ll blow your goddamn head off if you even get close enough to touch me. I won’t let my guard down around you again.”

Tailtiu’s lips quirked up on one side. “I knew what you meant. It is wise to be cautious with me. I am an abomination after all, just as you made me—master.”

Something about her tone made him want to shiver, but he kept himself still. Unsure what else to say, he responded simply by dismissing her. “You can go for now.”

“Are you aware there is another following you?” she asked suddenly, making no move to leave.

“Another what? A person, or…?”

“A blood drinker,” she answered, her face showing disgust and perhaps a bit of fear.

Will frowned. “One came after me a few nights ago.”

His aunt shook her head. “Not that one. I’ve been following your army since you left Terabinia. This one has been stalking you since you left the city, as closely as he dared.” She jerked her head toward the darkness. “I’m sure he’s out there now somewhere. He can see magic, or he would have blundered into your new defenses already.”

Was it a vampire mage? Could it be the one that put the light protection spells on the vampire in Klendon? Or a different one? Or was it Rob? As usual, he had more questions than answers. “I’m surprised you didn’t do something about him,” said Will.

Tailtiu flinched. “I’ve approached him twice, but he fled both times. I would have chased, but—I didn’t.”

“You were afraid.” After what she had endured at the hands of the Drak’shar in Cerria, any normal person would have been a mental wreck for the rest of their life, but the fae normally didn’t suffer such mental frailties.

She looked at him uncertainly. “I do not know. I don’t like their smell. It brings up the memories of when they held me captive. I would rather not be reminded of it.” After a second, she added, “You might be wise not to order me to battle them. I might not obey—perhaps.”

Will nodded. “You really have become free. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chapter 36

The next day was an exercise in frustration. Not only was Will short on sleep, but there was very little he could do. Laina was away, riding for Klendon, and he was constantly worried about his cousin Eric. The first messengers wouldn’t arrive until afternoon, and even then their news would be a day old—anything might have happened to Eric and the First Division in that time.

He wanted to be done with Maldon already, but the army needed to rest. Even his sorcerers needed sleep, as he had kept them up late the night before, checking the state of Maldon’s defenses. Most of them were still abed, but Bug had apparently drawn the short straw and it was his job to report what they had found.

“As you suspected, Maldon is nothing like Klendon,” said the lieutenant-sorcerer. “The walls have some wards on them, but they aren’t permanent and there are no enchantments in evidence at all. If you wish to use a tactical ritual, I have no doubt their defenses will—”

“I have no intention of wiping out half the city just to gain a quick victory,” Will said, cutting the young man off. “There are other ways to crack this nut.”

Bug let his breath out in a sigh that made Will realize the man had been far tenser than he realized. “I’m somewhat relieved to hear that, sir. If you don’t mind my asking, how did you know they wouldn’t have the same level of magical defenses?”

“I didn’t,” Will replied immediately. But Arrogan thought it might be the case. “Although Maldon is an old city, in all of its history, it has never come under direct attack. Klendon was built with defense in mind, Myrsta is the capital—and it has been besieged before—but Maldon has known nothing but peace, other than sending its men to war when called on. Moreover, no one expected we would attack here rather than proceed directly to Myrsta. I’m fairly certain the Patriarch has been spending most of his resources shoring up his defenses there.”

Bug blanched at that. “We’re going there next. If it’s as you say, the walls will probably glow in the dark with all the wards.”

“That’s for the future,” said Will, rising and pacing around the room. Tired and anxious simultaneously, it was hard for him to sit still. “Were you able to test the foundations?”

The young sorcerer grinned. “It’s stone and bedrock directly beneath the city, but it isn’t protected, and just a short way out from the walls it turns to hard-packed soil.”

“So, we can do it?”

Bug nodded. “We might not have quite enough earth elementals, but—”

“—they can use spells for the easy part and conserve the elementals for the stone,” said Will, finishing his student’s sentence.

“How will you keep them from seeing what we’re doing?” asked Bug. “There’s nothing but flatland out here. They’ll see us when we start digging, unless you plan to begin half a mile away.”

Will shook his head. “We’ll start as close to the walls as possible. There’s no time to waste.”

“But if they see or hear us, they could bring the tunnel down on our heads, or at the very least bottleneck us.”

“They won’t see or hear us.”

“But how?”

“That’s for me to worry about. Trust me. They’ll be far too stressed and distracted to pay attention to the real threat,” said Will.

Bug stared at him for a moment, his eyes pensive. “Don’t you trust me, sir?”

Will stopped pacing. He’d gotten to be fairly good friends with Bug and many of the other student sorcerers while training them before the war. He liked to think he’d built a rapport with them. “I do trust you, Bug, but this is different. Lives depend on this, and I’ve already seen my plans leaked to the enemy before…”

“But that wasn’t me.”

“I didn’t think it was. I’m just extra cautious now. I still don’t know exactly how they’re getting their information, but if I don’t tell anyone more than they need to know, I don’t have to doubt people if it somehow gets out. For all I know it could be a spell, but if I tell someone and then they discover it I’ll have to start giving my friends hard looks. Does that make sense?”

The sorcerer sighed, barely hiding his disappointment. “I suppose. I could understand if it was Emory after all, but me?”

He grinned. Will and Bug shared certain sentiments, since they both came from common households. Emory was nobility, and most of the other students from Wurthaven were at the very least from rich families. Bug’s family was dirt poor. His father was a tenant farmer, and if it hadn’t been for a sponsorship from the lord that held their land, Bug would never have been able to attend the college. “You still don’t like Emory? I thought he was growing on you.”

“I don’t hate him,” Bug clarified. “We’ve been working together a while and I can respect what he’s accomplished, but I don’t think we’ll ever be real friends.”

“He seems to feel differently,” offered Will.

Bug shrugged. “’Cause he’s rich. It’s easy for him to overlook the differences.”

Will understood. It was something only a poor man could really understand, being surrounded by the rich and the privileged. They weren’t even aware of their fortune, but for someone like Bug, it would be constantly in his face. Rich clothes, money, and a thousand other little privileges that he would never be party to. Will felt guilty thinking about it, because now that he’d married into royalty all those things were his—and every day he got more used to them.

He gave Bug leave to get some rest, then moved on to the next major task of the day, trying to parley with the leader of Maldon. As in Klendon, he sent out men with flags, hoping to get a response. Someone emerged from the city, and within half an hour, Will had his answer.

Lord Fraelis wouldn’t meet with him. There would be no discussion at all.

“Pompous prick,” muttered Will. “People’s lives are at stake and he won’t even discuss it.”

“He’s probably worried that it’s a trap,” suggested Lieutenant Renly.

“After Klendon they should know me better,” said Will. Rising to his feet, he strode outside.

“Where are you going now, sir?” asked Renly.

“To talk to him.”

Will walked until he stood in front of the city in plain view, though he took care to remain well out of bowshot or spell range. At two hundred yards he figured someone with good aim could still hit him if they had perfect aim and a spell similar to the light-darts spell, but there was no chance he wouldn’t be able to defend against such an attack.

Technically, a powerful warbow could hit him at that range also, but only through pure luck, and again, he was too well defended. He had already used an iron-body transformation just to be safe.

Lifting his arms in a theatrical gesture, Will began to speak without shouting, but he cast his voice such that it was heard by everyone within the city. His arm movements were purely to help the onlookers connect the voice they heard with him, since he was so distant. “Fraelis of Maldon, this is Will Cartwright, Royal Marshal and leader of the armies of Terabinia. Since you were too craven to meet me and discuss the best options for the people of Maldon, I am forced to make myself heard in this way. My words will not go unheard, just as the needs of your people will not be silenced.

“I intended to offer you amnesty, as I did with Commander Durant of Klendon; however during our march here we discovered what your soldiers did to the farmers and villagers of the region. Burning fields and killing innocents to deprive your enemy of food might be acceptable to some, but it does not sit well with me. Whether you allowed your citizens to know of these crimes I am not sure, but they will know it now and if any doubt me they will see the truth of my words in the days to come after this siege is done.

“Your wanton behavior cannot go unpunished, so I appeal now to your officers and subordinates. Arrest Fraelis and open the city and we will show you no violence. Terabinia and Darrow will be reunited, though the Patriarch and the Church of the Prophet will not be welcome.

“You have until tomorrow morning to open the city, but this is only an ultimatum for the leaders. Regardless of what those in power choose to do, we are not the enemies of those who live peacefully in Maldon or any other part of Darrow. The church must go, but otherwise your lives will remain unchanged. Lognion has no interest in ruling a damaged country.

“To the people I will say this: Do not be afraid. We will enter the city and the fighting will be short. Remain in your homes and offer no violence and you will be unharmed. No blood needs be shed.” He finished with a simple line, “I look forward to meeting you on the morrow.”

Mark Nerrow was waiting for him when he returned to his tent. “You should have been an actor rather than a soldier.”

Will lifted one brow. “Do you think it worked?”

“It made me want to empty my bowels, and I’m on the same side. I’m sure they’re scared shitless,” replied the older man.

Will frowned. “I was trying to be reassuring, at least to the citizens.”

His father shook his head. “Your tone was rather soothing, which made it even more unsettling. People expect anger in war. That”—he paused, running a hand through his hair, then continued—“that was disturbing. It reminded me of the last time I had a private conversation with His Majesty.”

Will blanched at the thought.

Mark continued, “You know what I mean, don’t you? That quiet creepiness he has, when he’s reassuring someone while simultaneously threatening them. It was similar to that, except you managed it for an entire city.”

Rubbing his face, Will asked, “Do you think it helped or hurt?”

“I’d give even odds they truss up Lord Fraelis and turn the city over without a fight. I’d be tempted, if I was on the other side of those walls. On this side, I’m not sure. If I didn’t know you were a bleeding heart who was hell bent on feeding enemy citizens, I’d think you were a psychopathic monster. In fact, I’m starting to think you’re just a different sort of crazy.”

That was food for thought. The more he accomplished, the farther he travelled, the more Will worried he might be turning into the same kind of unfeeling monster that Lognion was. “Do you think he was like me once?”

His father looked puzzled. “The king?”

Will nodded an affirmative.

“Hell no. I remember the first time I met him as a child. He was just the same back then,” answered the sub-marshal.

“No, I meant back…,” Will stopped there, deciding to let it go. He still hadn’t explained his suspicions regarding Lognion’s possible immortality. “Nevermind.”

Before they could continue their conversation further, Renly stepped into the tent. “A new messenger has arrived from First Division, sir.”

“Send him in.”

There were two messages, one written by Spry and the other from Lustral. Will elected to read the least pleasant missive first.

Marshal,

Your deceit in issuing my orders has become apparent, though I am still attempting to succeed despite your blatant attempts at undermining our efforts in Darrow. Sub-Marshal Spry’s arrival has forestalled the disaster that nearly took us, but we cannot hope to advance without more men.

The Patriarch’s forces have arrived in significant numbers, numbers far in excess of what we originally anticipated. At the moment we are surrounded on three sides and may soon be forced to withdraw in the only direction left available to us.

A Loyal Servant of His Majesty, King Lognion,

Field Marshal Lustral

Will snorted. Even with his ending, Lustral had found a way to snub his superior by pointing out that his true loyalty lay only with the king. He doubted things were as bad as the duke indicated though. Turning to the next letter he opened it and began to read.

Royal Marshal Cartwright,

I trust this finds you well. Third Division is continuing to support and assist the field marshal and First Division, but things are worse than expected. First took considerable casualties in excess of five hundred men before we arrived and were in full retreat. Since then we have held our ground and begun to dig in.

Personally, I feel we should withdraw, either to meet you and the rest of our forces at the crossroad, or potentially even make a full retreat to Klendon. Lustral insists that we remain here, but the enemy numbers are far greater than our previous intelligence indicated. Things are barely tenable as they are. Any further pressure may result in disaster.

Please advise.

Sub-Marshal Spry

Will handed them to his father while he thought things over. A few minutes later, the other man asked, “Well?”

“We only need two days here,” said Will firmly. “Then we can leave a garrison and move to reinforce them.”

“Assuming you can take the city in a single day,” said the sub-marshal.

“We will.”

“That’s a big assumption, and things could get worse there quickly. Lustral might be exaggerating, but Spry seems honest enough.”

Will nodded. “I think he is, but he’s also inexperienced. This is his first time seeing an actual war. It can be overwhelming. I don’t think things are as bad as he believes. The Darrowans don’t have enough men to overwhelm two divisions.”

Mark Nerrow frowned. “Five hundred casualties are nothing to sneeze at. It sounds as though First was decimated.”

He meant the term in its technical definition, meaning they had lost a tenth, not that that made it any better. Losing nearly one in ten was a substantial blow to the division. Will could only hope that Eric wasn’t among those injured, or worse, killed. “Lustral is playing the game from both ends. If he’s really working with the Darrowans, he may have engineered the situation to create a disaster, but he won’t be willing to endanger himself further.”

“Or maybe he isn’t a traitor,” said the sub-marshal. “Maybe he’s just incompetent and the losses come down to superior tactics on the part of the Darrowan commander. If so, those losses could compound if the First and Third aren’t reinforced and given strong leadership.”

“You could send Hargast and the Second to support them,” suggested Mark.

He growled. “Maldon is a large city. I need them to ensure a quick surrender. I can send them the day after. Once we have Maldon, we’ll be free to concentrate all our resources on Myrsta. The war will be all but over, whether we take the capital or whether we spend a year starving them out from their walls.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Chapter 37

The next morning the sun rose as usual, but it wasn’t readily apparent. A thick mist hung over the city and the fields around it out to a distance of at least a mile. The only clue that the sun had risen was that the mist took on an ambient glow, dimly lighting everything within it.

Will wished he had news regarding the First and Third Divisions, but that probably wouldn’t come until noon as the riders usually didn’t travel at night. When they did arrive, it would be the ones sent the afternoon before. If he was lucky, he might receive the messengers from this morning by dark. For now, he could only stick to the plan and hope for the best.

No one could see more than a couple of feet in the insanely dense fog, but that played to their advantage. The Terabinians didn’t need to see to play their part that day. Will was sure the Darrowans felt somewhat differently about it, though.

He lifted his voice, letting the sound of it roll through the mist and over the city. “Bring up the gate-breaker.” He wasn’t particularly worried about giving away their intentions. He wanted them to anticipate what would happen.

Twenty men strode forward, ten on either side of a massive tree suspended from a rude frame of rough timbers. The end had been hacked into a rough point, and the frame didn’t have wheels as some battering rams did. It was made crudely and quickly, meant only for the moment. Others ran alongside, using their shields to shelter those carrying the heavy frame, and moments later, arrows and rocks began to fall.

The defenders couldn’t see them, but fear had made them begin before being certain of the Terabinians’ position. Even so, it wasn’t hard to guess. A minute later, the ram was in place. The men dropped the frame and took hold of rough handles lashed across the trunk as they began to swing the massive oak back and forth.

It struck the gate with a resounding ‘boom.’

Heavier rocks began to rain down, killing a few of the Terabinians despite the shield bearers. More rushed to take their place, and two sorcerers began using angled force-walls to protect the attackers from the stones. Will stood close by, but he merely watched, using his magically adapted vision to see through the mist.

The ram continued to beat against the gates, booming like the world’s largest drum. The vibrations were low and powerful, thrumming through the air into his chest and through the ground into his feet. It felt as though his heart had begun to keep time with the slow beat, and as his adrenaline started to flow, he felt certain that it was the sound of victory.

Blasts of fire erupted from the walls at multiple locations, all focused on the area in front of the gates. The two force-walls the sorcerers there were using wouldn’t stop the gouts of flame from wrapping the edges and burning some of the soldiers alive, not to mention those farther out, but that was the moment Will had been waiting for.

He had felt it coming a second before it actually began, as the enemy gathered their turyn to attack. In the past, he had primarily been aware of turyn visually, but lately he had started to realize that all his senses were involved to some degree. Though he lacked a direct line of sight to the sorcerers hiding behind the merlons, his skin prickled as they gathered in turyn from their elementals. When the flames came down, he spread his arms and stretched out with his will.

There were other wills guiding the flames, but they weren’t worth mentioning. He took the flames from them with the same ease a parent might take a dangerous object from a toddler. Initially, he had meant to turn the fire back against its creators, but as the moment arrived Will realized how great the strain of absorbing so much power would be. Deeper down, he felt instinctively that there was an easier way.

The ram boomed against the gate. Without fully claiming the fiery turyn, Will converted it, augmenting the pounding of the ram, amplifying the heavy sound as it crashed against the gate. The sound exploded around the men so loudly that some of them lost their grip and fell to the ground, clutching their ears.

On the walls, the effect was similar, as some of the defenders fell to their knees in pain and terror. Will realized he’d made a mistake, but he understood what it was, and his next attempt would be better.

Several minutes passed, and the ram made no noticeable progress against the massive gates, but eventually the enemy sorcerers regained their nerve and tried again, and this time Will was fully prepared. Once again, he repurposed their power, but he made sure it remained focused on the gate, preventing it from spreading back toward the soldiers manning the ram.

The vibrations ran through the gate and the surrounding stone walls, hammering into the defenders like a physical thing. Men screamed, blood running from their eyes and ears. Some were so badly stunned that they fell from the walls, while others deserted their posts and ran for safer places, unable to hear the cries of their commanders or their companions.

A shout went up from the Terabinians, and Will saw that a split had appeared in one of the massive beams that comprised the gates of Maldon. His eyes widened at that. Taking the gate hadn’t really been his plan, nor had he expected that sound could have so much of a physical effect.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think the defending magic users would be giving him any more free turyn to play with. It seemed that most of them had deserted the defense of the gates. Which was a shame, because Will doubted that their makeshift battering ram would have any real effect. Its sole purpose was to provide a noisy diversion. Without his supplemental sonic attacks, it was unlikely to finish the job.

A runner arrived, and Will focused his attention on the man. “How goes it in the hole?”

“Lieutenant Bug sends word that his team is getting close. Fifteen minutes more and they should be through. Their elementals are opening a way through the stone now.”

“What about Janice and Emory?”

“Their situation is similar, though they may take slightly longer. The bedrock they encountered is seamless granite. Apparently, it’s more difficult for the elementals to shift.”

“Tell Bug not to wait for them. When he’s ready, he can open the way. I doubt the enemy has taken any notice of them. If they do get bottled up, it will just provide an additional distraction for the other team.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the messenger, leaving at a run.

“Looks like we still have at least thirty minutes to kill here,” Will muttered to himself. He’d have rather been with one of the two entry teams, but as part of his promise to Laina and ultimately to Selene, he had opted for the safer position with the decoy gate forces.

Of course, it wasn’t truly safe. Not as safe as his wife would have liked. Someone still might drop a rock on his head when he wasn’t looking, but it was as safe as he was willing to accept. The ram continued to beat fruitlessly against the gate, and without active enemies guarding it, Will had nothing to do.

In fact, he was a little bored, if such a thing were possible in the midst of a battle. He kept staring at the gate, his mind drifting as his eyes studied the split his sound attack had created. Something tickled the back of his mind, and he started walking forward.

When he had reached the sorcerers defending the soldiers, he spoke to one of them. “Move your force-wall closer to the gate.” He pointed. “I’m going to be standing right there, next to where the ram is striking. Make sure no one splatters my brains onto the roadway.”

With that said, he made his way up to stand beside the head of the ram. The men were still swinging it back and forth, and with each strike he could feel the force of the blow thrumming through the heavy wood of the gates of Maldon. Reaching up, he put his hand on the surface and closed his eyes, letting the vibrations resonate through his flesh.

He had an innate talent with sound. That had become ever more apparent with each passing day, and though no one had every truly explained it to him, he knew that sound was nothing more than vibrations. Slowly, Will began drawing in turyn, not with the intent of storing it for a large spell working, but rather to feed it into a slow, steady piece of wild magic.

At first, he simply felt the thud of the ram and copied it, increasing it, but he could feel the innate elasticity of the wood sapping the energy. It took more and more turyn to increase the vibration, and he could tell intuitively that the drain would become far too much to sustain long before he reached a level that could damage the structure of the gate. So instead, he listened—not with his ears, but with his body and its special way of feeling turyn that went beyond simple sight.

A certain portion of the ram’s vibration didn’t dissipate as quickly as the rest. At a specific frequency, like a musical note, it lingered, humming through the wood. It would have been useless for music of course, for the note was too low for his ears to detect, but he could feel it in his chest. Will copied it and began using his turyn to amplify it.

Initially he only succeeded in completely dampening the resonance. The vibration he introduced was similar, but its timing was off by just enough that it canceled out its twin, resulting in a profound and almost startling silence. Will made note of it for future exploration, then corrected his mistake. By tuning the resonance up and down slightly, he eventually matched the exact frequency that the gate seemed to hold onto.

He knew when he had it because the energy immediately ramped up and the wood slowly began to visibly shiver. Interesting, he thought. I wonder how far this could go? First increasing his turyn absorption, Will then began adding more energy into the wild magic.

The gate drank it in, and its shivering gradually transformed into a frenetic shaking that seemed as though it might cause the wood to literally rip itself free of the stone and iron that framed it. Dust rained down around him, and the walls of the gatehouse began to groan with a strange sound he had never heard in stone before.

The soldiers holding the ram had stopped their work, too fascinated by what he was doing, but Will was suddenly taken by the realization that what he was doing might be dangerous to everyone in the vicinity. Turning his head, he voiced an order, “You men should withdraw a short distance. I’m not sure what—”

Will never finished his sentence, as the massive ironbound gate chose that moment to explode, sending sharp flinders of wood in every direction at high speed. Men died and blood ran thick as the front ranks of soldiers manning the ram were impaled by hundreds of spear-like splinters. Will himself, being directly in front of the gate, took the worst of it, and only the fact that he’d been using an iron-body transformation prevented his instantaneous demise.

He found himself lying supine a few feet from where he’d been standing. Staring upward, he could see that nothing remained of the gate, and the stone arch above it had been grievously damaged. A massive crack had formed where some of the stone had been blown away, and it spread rapidly along the stone ceiling within the gatehouse. From the corner of his eye, he could see similar cracks in the walls where large chunks of stone had been ripped free.

Looks like the whole thing might collapse in on itself, the spectator in the back of his head observed quietly. At the same time, he realized he was going to be beneath some portion of that collapsing structure. This might not be the best place for resting, he thought.

In slow motion, the gatehouse that guarded the main entrance to the city of Maldon shuddered and slipped, falling inward, and despite his best intentions and its seeming slowness, Will found himself utterly unable to move in time.

“Fuck.” His final remark slipped out as he used the only spell that might save him, a force-dome. He watched as a truly immense slab of stone blocks that remained stubbornly cemented together fell directly on it, then felt his spell fail under the strain. There was a moment’s pain, and then the world went black.

Surprisingly, his eyes opened again a moment later, though Will wasn’t sure if he’d gone unconscious and reawakened, or whether he’d merely closed his eyes before the sky had been blotted out. He tried to lift a hand to check his head and see if it had been cracked open, only to discover that he was pinned. There was almost no light, but a tiny amount found him through cracks in the stone detritus, enough to see once he’d adjusted his vision.

The coughing started a few seconds later as he inhaled some of the cloud of dust that hung around him. I’ve been buried alive. How silly. Will would have laughed if his lungs hadn’t already been fully occupied with trying to clear themselves.

Eventually the dust settled, as did his coughing fits, and in the meantime, he was able to ascertain that he still retained both arms and both legs. Experimentally, he wiggled his fingers and toes just to be sure. A chilling thought came to him then. What if I’m just imagining it? He’d heard that sometimes people still felt their legs after losing them.

He pushed that thought aside, deciding that he felt both too much and not enough pain for that to be the case. He wasn’t sure if his logic was sound, but he wasn’t going to question it.

The arm that he had thought was pinned, wasn’t—at least not exactly. There was space on his left side, and by shifting his body that way he was able to move his arm. Will couldn’t be certain, but it seemed that the stone slab that had impacted his force-dome had split in half, forming a small triangular shelter above him after his spell failed. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the odds. He knew he’d been incredibly lucky.

Rolling his head to one side, he addressed a piece of dusty stone that had been lying close to his cheek. “So long as neither of us tell Selene about this, I might survive to a ripe old age.”

The stone didn’t answer.

“That’s the spirit,” said Will encouragingly. “As long as we’re discussing it, you should probably avoid mentioning this to my sister too. She has a bad temper.”

Again, it didn’t reply, but Will could somehow sense its doubt. Not regarding what he’d said, but more about the fact that it could answer at all. It thought he was losing his mind. “Go to hell,” he muttered sourly. “I’ve lived through worse than this. In fact, I’ve even been buried alive before, now that I think about it. That’s why I learned the grave-digging spell.”

He stared stupidly at the stone for a moment, then a sound emerged from his lips. “Ooh!” He struggled to keep from giggling, lest Mister Stone take it as a further sign he wasn’t quite in his right mind. Instead he crooned happily to himself, “By the Mother and her great holy tits, William Cartwright, you are a fucking clever lad!” It was a swear he’d learned years before, from his old army buddy, Dave, but he’d never felt right using it until then.

Smiling, he told the stone, “Wait until I tell Selene about this. She’ll be so proud.”

Thankfully, the stone reminded him that that was precisely what he wasn’t to do.

“Right! She’d kill me,” he agreed. “Don’t tell her about the swearing either. She wouldn’t approve.” He was wasting time.

Starting small, he used the grave-digging spell to excavate a space beneath him while packing the excavated earth into cracks and crevices to the sides and toward his feet. There was a surprising amount of space, and after a few repetitions of the process Will found himself relatively free in a pocket beneath the collapsed building. The volume around him now was approximately enough to hold him two or maybe three times over. It wasn’t ideal for digging, but it was doable.

Continuing to move the earth, he gradually displaced himself deeper and sideways simultaneously. He would have rather gone directly to the side, but he was afraid he might displace the support for the stone above him and be suddenly be crushed if it came down on top of him.

He could dimly hear men yelling aboveground, so Will tuned his hearing to help alleviate his boredom. After a while, he could understand the voices of those close by and one in particular stood out as familiar to him. It was that of Mark Nerrow.

“Over the top, you bastards! Don’t waste your chance!”

In his mind, Will could almost see his father standing heroically on the field as he shouted the words. He’s the kind of leader they would prefer, thought Will. I just hope he remembers to let the Darrowans surrender. From what he could tell, men were clambering over the collapsed gatehouse to enter the city.

Combine that with the fact that they should also be entering from the two tunnels they had dug on either side of the city, and the battle for Maldon might as well be over. The city garrison would have no realistic hope of retaining control once the soldiers of Terabinia were inside the walls.

It worked, he thought smugly. And I didn’t even need to blow myself up, that was just a bonus. He continued making his way through the ground, imagining himself as a wizardly mole.

Above ground, things were growing quieter, but Mark Nerrow remained, interrogating those who had survived the gatehouse disaster. “Where was he? Damn it! Snap out of it! There, or over there? Be specific!” Moments later, he was yelling orders to more men. “We have to move these stones!”

The baron didn’t react well when one of them told him that it was impossible for Will to have survived. “That’s hundreds of tons of stone, Sub-marshal, no one could be alive under that.”

“Shut your damned mouth! I’d know if he was dead!”

Minutes passed while men and elementals sifted through the stone debris, but predictably, no sign of Will’s body was found. He eventually emerged from the earth twenty feet away, and the light of the sun was welcome on his cheeks, even as muddled and diffuse as it was in the fog. Once again, he readjusted his vision to optimize it for the mist. Close by, he could see men working over the pile of rubble while Mark Nerrow tried to supervise. Coordination was difficult, since none of them could see one another once they got more than four feet away.

Messengers ran in now and then, looking for the sub-marshal to report the latest news and carry his orders to the various units. Will walked closer as the last of them ran off on the latest errand.

His father stood alone, hidden by the fog, and in his moment of solitude, Will saw the man’s shoulder’s bow and his hands reach up to cover his face. The older man’s body shook slightly, though no sound emerged. Surely, he isn’t… Will shook his head to clear it. No, that can’t be.

Moving through the mist, he stepped up beside the man and asked, “What happened?”

The sub-marshal jerked, straightening his stance and quickly squaring his shoulders. “We’re trying to ascertain where—” He froze in place, then stared at his son’s dirt-covered face. “Marduke’s ass! I thought you were dead!”

“If I had a coin for every time someone told me that,” mumbled Will. He was relieved to see that his father’s cheeks were still dry, but as he looked at the man he saw the tears beginning to well in them. “It’s all right. The stones formed an arch over me.”

His father blinked, then wiped his face with one sleeve. “You’re either the luckiest, or the dumbest bastard I’ve ever known.” Stepping in, the older man gingerly probed Will’s skull with his fingers, trying to discern whether his skull had been cracked.

“Guilty on all three counts,” said Will.

“Three?”

“I’m dumb, lucky, and a bastard.”

His father winced. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.” A second later he added, “There’s a few scratches on your scalp, but they’re minor. You might not even get a lump. How do you feel?”

“Filthy,” Will admitted. “Tunneling is dirty work.” For a moment, he thought of the rock, even as it occurred to him that perhaps he’d hit his head hard enough to knock his wits loose. “Let’s finish this battle.”

“You need to rest. Let me handle the remainder.”

He started to argue, but then he noticed the world swaying ever so slightly. “I’ll sit down, but I expect to be kept informed of everything. In fact, you can stay with me. I won’t interfere unless I disagree with you.”

“Fine. First thing though, can you do something about this fog? It was wonderful for the first part of this, but it’s going to lead to confusion and more dying if the men can’t see while they take control of the streets,” suggested the sub-marshal.

“Yeah, but I’ll need to be alone for a while.”

His father frowned. “It’s warlockry, isn’t it?”

“No, but I doubt I can convince you of the difference. I didn’t have to pay anything. Tailtiu is helping me of her own accord.”

“She’s the fae woman you mentioned dealing with before?”

He nodded. “My aunt to be precise.”

“We need to have a long talk about this someday soon. Why do you want to be alone? Afraid I won’t approve of your bargaining?” Suspicion was thick in his father’s tone.

Will shook his head. “No, not that. She’s dangerous, and although she’s willing to help me, she’s rather unstable. I’d rather not push my luck by tempting her.”

“Tempting her?”

He gave his father a careful once over with his eyes. The man was uncommonly good looking for his age. Will didn’t think he would ever be that handsome. “She has a problem with men.”

“I’m not afraid of some fae trollop,” insisted the baron, “and if you’re worried that I won’t show proper restraint then you’re badly mistaken.”

“You should be afraid, and no, I’m not worried about your ability to control yourself. Just trust me on this and give me some privacy.”

His father acquiesced, and Will called his aunt to let her know they no longer needed the fog.

Chapter 38

Tailtiu ended the fog, and the day turned clear and sunny within half an hour. Cheers went up once the soldiers could see, for the dense mist had felt oppressive, even for those who had relied on it. The Darrowans surrendered in a slow progression of bits and pieces as clusters of the defenders were isolated within the city and cut off from support. Near the end, after a fresh ‘message’ from Will had unnerved them, Lord Fraelis was trussed up and turned over to the Terabinians.

The disgruntled lord was red-faced and angry, partly because of the rag in his mouth and partly because he’d never suffered such indignity in his pampered life. According to a set of rules that Lieutenant Renly conveniently trotted out, Will was supposed to hold the man as a prisoner of war, regardless of what he had done. Only the king himself, or an official magistrate from Terabinia, was allowed to levy justice on someone who was effectively a representative of a foreign state.

Very likely, that meant a long imprisonment, followed by freedom once the war was over. Lord Fraelis’ crimes against his own people wouldn’t be considered crimes given the state of war. The lord had been acting in defense of his lands, on behalf of his government, and upon people within his jurisdiction. He would probably lose his land, title, and much of his wealth, but he would almost certainly go free.

This was all according to a quick assessment given to him by both Nerrow and Hargast, who both had much greater familiarity with the laws governing both Terabinia and the king’s army. Unless Lognion had a particular reason to render a harsher sentence, Fraelis would live, and Will already knew that King Lognion didn’t much care about cruelties or crimes against the people.

Will wasn’t willing to leave things like that. He took Renly’s law manual from him and using a quick fire-starting spell rendered it to ash. “Oops.”

“What are you doing?” demanded the shocked lieutenant.

“That was an accident,” said Will. “Since we don’t have any written guidance, I’ll have to rely on my best judgment for now.”

“I have another copy stored with the baggage train,” said the lieutenant, glaring daggers at him. Several seconds later, he added a begrudging, “Sir.”

“Unfortunately, this can’t wait,” said Will. Giving a quick succession of orders, he sent the other senior officers away to manage the multitude of duties that capturing a city had created. He didn’t want anyone else to be held accountable merely for being a witness to his actions.

After that, he summoned the captured lord to testify before him in an impromptu field trial. It was a mockery of real justice, but Will did at least get supplemental testimony from some of Fraelis’ subordinates before rendering his judgment. It helped that Fraelis didn’t deny ordering the burning of farms and the execution of anyone who resisted the destruction of their livelihoods. The man sincerely didn’t see anything wrong with his decisions. Those who worked in the fields had no rights in his eyes.

Will wasted no time. “In light of the testimony you’ve given, I find you guilty of the crimes of murder, theft, and arson against those whom you were sworn to protect.”

“What?” Lord Fraelis stared aghast at him, as though he’d grown a second head. “How can a man be accused of arson for burning his own property, or murder when he kills only his own chattel?”

He ignored the outburst. “I hereby sentence you to death, sentence to be carried out immediately.”

Fraelis laughed in disbelief while the junior officers and Terabinian soldiers who had been bearing witness gasped in shock. “You’re mad!” accused the Lord of Maldon. “Who do you think will carry out such an absurd sentence?” His eyes went wide, however, and his outrage turned to piteous cries for mercy when Will summoned his falchion.

An executioner’s cut was no easy feat, Will knew that, so he used the silver-sword spell to enhance the blade before moving forward in two quick strides. Fraelis jerked to the side, desperate to save himself, so Will was forced to grab the man’s hair to keep his head and neck in line for the strike.

The first blow wasn’t perfect, but it did the job, though the blade ended its stroke against Fraelis’s collarbone. The lord was already dead, but his head was still attached by a thick piece of skin and flesh. Will made a second, smaller cut to finish the job, dismissed the spell, cleaned his blade, then left with one last instruction to the nearest soldiers. “Bury this trash in an unmarked grave.”

As he left, he could hear some of his soldiers muttering. “—chopped him up like he was butchering a pig.”

“Cold as ice.”

“Did you see his eyes?”

He kept walking, but Will couldn’t help but enhance his hearing as he went. Well beyond earshot, he could still hear them talking.

“That was nothing. He walked up to the gate and it started screaming before the whole building came down on top of him, and he just walked away afterward. Everyone else was dead.”

“He’s not human.”

“I heard he sold his soul to Marduke. He’s not afraid of anything because he’s already dead.”

Shaking his head, Will went to his tent and had the sullen Lieutenant Renly pour him a large cup of wine. His head hurt, and he hoped that the wine would help, at least temporarily. Despite the constant stream of men coming in an out for orders, he felt alone. Laina had been gone less than half a day and he already missed her. He regretted sending his father into the city to meet with the civil officials and try to get an accounting of the city’s current state.

Technically, he’d accomplished his goal in taking Maldon, but killing Fraelis had left him feeling unclean, even though he’d already used Selene’s spell to remove the dirt and grime he’d accumulated. It went deeper than that. I did the right thing, he reassured himself, but deep down, he knew there were stains on his soul he would never rid himself of.

During a brief lull in messengers, Will realized he hadn’t even thought about the men who had died when the gate exploded. So much had happened, there hadn’t been time. No one would reasonably blame him; it was a war, after all. It was an accident, he told himself, I had no idea that would happen. But then again, he’d had enough awareness to warn them when it was too late.

“I’m no better than the man I just executed,” he muttered quietly. Thinking about the most recent assassination attempt against him, Will wondered what the families of the men whom he had killed would think. Some might consider it a freak event in a chaotic war, but others would blame him. How many sons, daughters, wives, and parents might want him dead in the years to come?

And worst of all, deep down, he didn’t care, not as much as he should. I made mistakes, but I only did what I thought was best. He felt remorse, but mostly he was worried about the consequences. More people would want him dead, and Selene could suffer once again, simply for being his wife.

Maybe I am turning into Lognion.

His dark thoughts were interrupted when an urgent messenger was ushered in to see him. It was the first rider of the day bearing news of the First and Third Divisions. It wasn’t good.

The missive had been written by Sub-Marshal Nicht of the First Division, which in itself was a bad sign.

Marshal,

I regret to inform you that First Division has met with disaster, losing close to fifty percent of our men during an ambush yesterday afternoon. Sub-Marshal Spry was killed and Field Marshal Lustral is currently unconscious, so in the meantime I have assumed joint command of the two divisions. Third Division’s losses were not as severe, but they still sustained close to twenty percent casualties.

As to the circumstances. Sub-Marshal Spry counseled withdrawal to Klendon, based on your last recommendations as well as the scouting reports that indicated a greater force was in the area, but Field Marshal Lustral insisted on advancing instead. His theory was that a retreat was expected while an advance was not. I myself did not agree with this, but the field marshal insisted that this would catch the Darrowans off-guard.

They were ready for us.

Caught close to dusk, as we were about to make camp, First Division was surrounded on three sides, forcing us to retreat in the direction of Third, causing a great deal of chaos and confusion in the ranks. A reserve force that was completely unknown to us then stopped Third Division, preventing them from moving.

Thus caught and disordered, the enemy corralled us like sheep for the slaughter. If not for Lord Spry’s heroic efforts in breaking through to the rear, the complete rout and humiliation of both the First and Third Divisions would have been all but assured. It is with great regret that I inform you of Lord Spry’s passing, for he died a hero.

At present we are retreating toward Klendon, but I have no doubt the enemy will seek to capitalize on our current weakness. With the number of casualties we have with us now, it will be difficult to avoid another disadvantageous situation, for our mobility is limited. I have faith that you will send reinforcements to prevent our retreat from becoming something worse.

Field Marshal Lustral’s wound seems minor and he may wake and resume command at any time, unless a more senior officer is present. This may be important for deciding how you will handle the situation.

Yours in service,

Sub-Marshal Nicht

Will stared at the page as if he could rearrange the letter through will alone. A cold knot had formed in his stomach. All he had to do was keep the Patriarch’s armies busy for a while. I didn’t expect the fool to rush headlong into an ambush. For the first time, he seriously considered that Lustral might not be the traitor. If he was, he shouldn’t have nearly been killed. Instead, it appeared the man was simply an idiot.

And Eric might be dead, thanks to the fact that he’d left his cousin under the command of the half-witted nobleman. He fought the sudden urge to tear his own hair out. He wanted to break something. Something moved, and a force-lance tore a hole through the flap of the tent before Will realized what he was doing. Everything went still, then a few seconds later Lieutenant Renly pushed the flap back and entered, his eyes wide with fear.

“Is it safe to enter, sir?”

I almost killed him. Looking down, Will could see the letter in his hand was shaking. I need to calm down. “Yes, come in.”

“The sub-marshal wants you to know that the city is fully secured, though he expects it will take considerable time to completely sort out the various administrative issues that will arise—”

He was referring to Nerrow of course, the only sub-marshal with them at the moment. Will interrupted, “Send for him now, as well as Commanders Lambel and Hargast.”

“You just sent them out two hours ago, sir. I’m sure they’re all occupied with your previous orders.”

“Ask me if I give a damn!” yelled Will. Leaping out of his seat, he stalked forward while Renly tried desperately to shrink into himself. “I don’t want your opinions, Renly! All I require from you is obedience, not questions! Do you understand?”

His breathing was heavy, and Will could feel his heartbeat in the blood rushing to his face as it flushed red. Renly looked terrified. Will closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly. “Forgive me, Lieutenant. I shouldn’t have spoken in that tone. I’m a bit overwrought at the moment.”

“Y-yes, sir,” stammered his assistant. “I’ll send for them immediately. May I go?”

“Please do.”

The officer left, but Will remained where he stood for several minutes. He was angry with Lustral, not Renly, but he’d allowed his emotions to boil over in an unacceptable manner. And I’m still angry. In his mind, he kept seeing the execution of Fraelis, but with Duke Lustral in the Darrowan’s place. What would Selene think if she saw me now?

That was an open question, actually. She’d grown up with a psychotic sociopath for a father. She might be repulsed, but then again, she might also be understanding. Either way, he didn’t want to find out. This isn’t who I want to be, he told himself.

When the sub-marshal and the commanders arrived a quarter of an hour later, with several of their junior officers in tow, Will was in better control of his emotions. He recognized one of the younger men beside Commander Hargast. It was Captain Barrentine, the man who led Will’s company back when he’d been just a private contract soldier. He nodded in recognition to his friend, before addressing the senior officers.

First, he gave them a summary of the recent news, which resulted in a lot of grim faces. Then he asked a few pertinent questions, turning to the sub-marshal first. “You’ve already made a preliminary assessment of the city, correct?”

Mark Nerrow shook his head. “No. We’ve just made certain we control it. The assessment is only just beginning. Even a preliminary will take days.”

Will sighed. “Obviously we can’t afford to wait that long to make decisions. What’s your best guess at how many men you’ll need to hold Maldon as well as restore the gates?”

“The gates could take months. Rebuilding the stonework of the gatehouse is no small feat—”

“I don’t mean a complete restoration, simply a functional replacement, so the enemy can’t just walk in the door on a whim,” clarified Will.

“That’s easier. We can manage that within a week, but holding the city, that’s a big question. Assuming little resistance and no significant Darrowan forces attempt to retake it, two or three companies will be sufficient. However, if the Patriarch does send an army here, we’ll need at least two brigades,” answered the sub-marshal.

“A full division just to be safe,” commented Commander Lambel.

Hargast shook his head. “I could understand that number for Klendon—it was crucial for our continuing campaign—but Maldon isn’t necessary. We’re going to need everything we can muster to conclude this war when we get to Myrsta—if that’s even possible now.”

Will felt his eye twitch at that remark, but he kept himself under control. “You’re making a key mistake in your thinking. Maldon isn’t a diversion, nor is this an invasion of enemy territory. Maldon is part of Terabinia, just as Klendon is, and as the rest of Darrow. If you’re going to understand my thinking, and more importantly, if we’re going to win this war, you have to think about this as a continuation of the Terabinian War for Independence.”

There was a lot of confusion in their faces as they stared back at him, but Will went on. “This was all one nation. We were divided and forced to accept a new smaller nation when Terabinia was created. We are now correcting that. Every inch of ground we reclaim is ours, it’s part of the new Terabinia. We treat the people as citizens, not enemies, and we rebuild whatever we damage. You may think this is kindness, but it isn’t. It’s absolutely vital for the future if we are to reunite the people of our divided nations.”

No one said anything after his remark. Silence in the face of madness, thought Will wryly. He pushed on. “These are my orders then: Sub-Marshal Nerrow, you will remain here with Fifth Division. Maldon will be your responsibility to repair, administer, and protect. I will expect you to manage it with the same care and efficiency that you give to your own lands until such time as I can afford to relieve you. Your daughter is already arranging shipments to assist the people of the region, and you will need to ensure those supplies reach the people who need them most.

“Lambel and Hargast will take the Second and Sixth Divisions to the crossroads, where they will meet—”

“Hold on!” barked the sub-marshal, interrupting him. “I don’t need a full division, and it shouldn’t be me that’s left here. Give the job to Lambel or Hargast. You need me beside you!”

“You’ll do as I command, Sub-Marshal,” said Will coolly, his eyes showing no emotion. He turned his head to the others. “As I was saying, Commander Hargast and Commander Lambel will bring their respective divisions to the crossroads, where they will either meet with the First and Third, or they will continue on to whatever new location I have subsequently ordered them to head for. Understood?”

Hargast responded first, “Yes, but—”

“I don’t agree with any of this,” interrupted Will’s father. “You’re going to—”

“I don’t need your approval, Sub-marshal,” said Will, glaring at the older man. “That wasn’t a request. It was an order. An order you will obey if you wish to retain command of the Fifth. Maldon is precious, and I need someone I trust to guard it for me. That means you.”

Mark Nerrow had spent his entire life as a peer of the realm. Being spoken to in that fashion wasn’t something he had experienced often, and certainly never from someone younger, much less his bastard son. His face flushed red and his mouth opened, but Will leaned in and stared him down. “One more word and I’ll relieve you of duty and send you packing back to Cerria. Is that what you want?” Will’s eyes softened after the words left his lips, communicating a deeper message. Either way, you’ll be safe, unlike my cousin Eric.

The moment dragged out until Commander Lambel finally broke the tension. “You said we’d meet with the First and Third, but if you aren’t here in Maldon, won’t you be with us, sir?”

Will’s face relaxed and a faint smile played across his lips. “I’ll be riding ahead as soon as this meeting is finished. I can’t afford to leave the First in the field marshal’s hands should he recover in the next day or so.”

“It would be safer to travel with the Second and Sixth,” remarked Lambel.

“And far too slow,” concluded Will. “Any further questions?”

“I have one, if that’s permitted,” said Sub-Marshal Nerrow, his voice strangely subdued.

Will warned him with his eyes, even as he responded, “Go ahead.”

Mark Nerrow looked at the two commanders. “How quickly will you be able to follow him?”

Lambel spoke first. “The men are tired. They had two days of forced march, one day of rest, then today’s battle. We could potentially march tomorrow, but it would be better to wait until the day after.”

“Have them rest now,” said Nerrow. “Call them back to camp and cancel anything except for camp duties. If I’m staying here with the entire Fifth, then we’ll have more than enough manpower to accomplish the cleanup and whatever else in the coming days. Second and Sixth can start recuperating now and then march in the morning.” He turned to give Will an accommodating glance. “Assuming that meets with your approval, sir.”

Will couldn’t help but admire how quickly the man had gotten his emotions under control. Mark Nerrow had not only gotten past the humiliation; he’d already made a plan to hasten the aid Will would need to take on the Patriarch’s army. “Thank you, Sub-marshal. I appreciate your input. Your plan sounds reasonable.”

They spent several more minutes ironing out details, and then Will dismissed them and sent for his horse. Lieutenant Renly had somehow regained his courage in the meantime and asked a pertinent question, “We need to pack, sir, and we should take a pack animal as well to insure—”

“You aren’t coming, Lieutenant. I don’t need to pack.” Will summoned his sword from the limnthal, then dismissed it just as quickly. “I have everything I need. You’ll manage these things and ride with Second Division. We’ll be reunited in a few days if everything goes well.”

Renly nodded. “Very good, sir.”

When his horse arrived a few minutes later, Will swung into the saddle and started down the road that led back to the river and the crossroad. He was alone for the first time in months, but he also felt freer than he had in a long time. Patting his horse’s neck, he nudged her into a trot with his heels.

Chapter 39

He’d only just gotten out of sight of Maldon when he noticed two figures on horseback following him down the road. They appeared to be striking a quick pace, one designed to catch up to him. Will intended to ride hard himself, but he slowed slightly to let the newcomers close more quickly. Whoever it was, he might as well get the interruption over with.

He had no intention of allowing anyone to ride along. They’d only delay him.

After a few minutes, he could see them more clearly. One figure was relatively slight, riding a horse with a similarly light build. The other was massive, and though he rode one of the biggest horses Will had ever seen, he still made Will feel sorry for the horse. No beast should have to bear such a burden.

Will stopped then, recognizing that the giant could only be one man: his friend, Tiny. As the two drew closer, Will could see that the smaller figure was Janice.

He wanted to be angry with them, but he couldn’t. It just wasn’t in him. As they came into earshot, he yelled out, “Where did you find a horse big enough to carry you? Did you steal Sir Kyle’s destrier?”

Tiny grinned broadly but waited until he was in proper range for a conversation before answering. “As a matter of fact, this is Sir Kyle’s warhorse, Thunderbolt.” The big man leaned forward to stroke the colossal beast’s neck. “We’ve become great friends, haven’t we, Thunderturnip?”

Will almost choked. “What did you call him?”

Janice rolled her eyes, an expression amplified by the shock of white hair on one side of her head and her startling dichromatic eyes. “Thunderturnip.”

Tiny nodded. “He doesn’t like his real name. He prefers Thunderturnip. Don’t you, boy?” The horse neighed, tossing its head in a manner that made Will believe the animal might actually be responding to his friend’s words.

Will shook his head in disbelief. “You realize that horse theft is punishable by death, right? I may have considerable power, but if Sir Kyle decides to press this against you…”

“He sent me,” said Tiny.

Janice raised her hand. “Me too.”

He frowned then. “Why?”

Tiny started to answer, but Janice put a hand on his arm, her expression clearly saying let me. “Do you really have to ask?”

Will growled. “Yes.”

She met his gaze evenly with one blue and one brown eye, and she showed no sign of flinching under his glare. “Because you’re alone.”

Tiny nodded. “You’re always at your dumbest when you’re left to yourself.”

Will pointed his finger at the giant warrior. “You’re assigned to Barrentine’s company. You’re his damned squire! You can’t go traipsing off to follow me around.”

Tiny folded his arms stoically across his chest. “He ordered it, and I obey. In fact, he told me in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t stay with you, he’d see me drummed out of the army entirely.”

Janice looked at the big man then clucked at him. “Don’t lie. He said he knew he’d have to have you whipped for being a deserter if he didn’t send you.” The corner of her mouth quirked into a smile as she turned her face back to Will. “Then I told him he’d better order me along too, otherwise we’d both be getting lashes. To be honest, though. I think he was considering it even before we rebelled.”

He knew he’d lost, so Will changed the subject. Staring at the big horse, he asked, “How is it that you’re riding that monster? I thought knights’ horses were trained not to accept another rider.”

Tiny laughed. “Who do you think takes care of Thunderturnip when Sir Kyle is too busy? To be honest, I think he might even like me better.”

Thunderturnip snorted, then gave his rider a long look with one eye. Tiny responded by reaching back and pulling a white tuber from his saddleback before leaning forward to pass it to the horse, who caught it in his teeth and crunched it up quickly.

Will pointed. “Is that?”

Tiny nodded. “That’s why I call him ‘Thunderturnip.’ He loves the things, though I’ll never understand why.”

For some reason Will started laughing and despite everything, could not stop. He laughed for several minutes non-stop, until tears ran from his eyes and he began to have difficulty getting enough air into his lungs. It felt good. He’d been so tense for so long—he almost couldn’t remember the feeling of being able to relax with friends. When the laughter finally began to fade, he had to control himself to keep from crying. “Thank you,” was all he said.

They understood.

After riding for more than an hour, Tiny said, “I’m really glad you’re actually riding there. I was worried you might be planning to travel through the fae realm.”

“If we ride and walk through the night, we can be at the crossroad by morning. One way or another, we should be close to them by then,” said Will.

“It’s still a relief,” said his friend.

“I don’t know a path through there to get us there any faster. I’d have to call my aunt and—well, it’s not worth the risk.”

Janice looked over, touching her face unconsciously as she asked, “Your aunt? The same one we tried to rescue?”

Will nodded. “She’s a little different now. I guess you might say she came away with her own scars.”

“I didn’t think they could change,” said Janice.

“She did.”

Hesitant for just a moment, Janice asked, “Is it a good change?”

“I’m not sure,” Will answered, trying to be honest. “But if you run into her and I’m not with you, I’d recommend you run the other way.” He went on to give them a brief description of his most recent interaction with Tailtiu.

“That was her mist this morning, wasn’t it?” asked Janice.

“Yeah.”

Tiny grunted. “It was so thick I could barely see my hand at arm’s length.”

“So, she isn’t bad,” said Janice. “She helped us, after all.”

“She helped me,” corrected Will. “That doesn’t necessarily make her your friend. I’m not even sure if she’s safe for me to be around anymore.”

Janice pointed to the white portion of her hair. “I got this because I care about you. We’re friends and it changed me, permanently. You went after her that night because you care. She’s your family and it changed her. Probably changed you too, but she’s still your family.”

Will had never disavowed his aunt or grandmother before, but he felt it needed saying just then. “You realize she’s not human, right? Even if her ancestor a dozen generations ago was related, she’s not really my family.”

She didn’t back down. “Idiot. You went into a vampire-infested warehouse and almost got eaten alive, quite literally. She’s family. In fact, for that matter, I did the same for you. We’re family too. Get that into your head.”

Tiny chuckled. “I went too. I guess that makes us brothers.”

Will grinned. “Of course, but it started before that. Probably the first time we stood in a shield wall together.”

Tiny turned to wink at Janice. “I suppose that makes you my little sister, eh?”

She frowned. “Don’t put that in my head! I don’t want to be your family in quite that sort of way.”

Tiny puckered his lips and winked. “Give us a kiss, sis!”

“I’m never kissing you again if you keep that up, you great lout!” she snapped. She used the reins to slow so she could drop behind them, then she kicked the mare forward so that she was riding on Will’s other side, away from the squire. Then she returned to her previous point, “What I’m trying to tell you is that you wouldn’t have taken such a risk if she wasn’t already an important part of your life.”

He sighed. “I get what you’re trying to say, but I don’t think you understand how truly alien she is.”

“I’m not saying she isn’t dangerous,” said Janice. “But change comes from connection.”

Will almost stopped his horse. He could feel a deeper importance in Janice’s last line. “Explain that.”

“People change each other through their connections. Strangers don’t really affect one another. Connections come from emotions, from relationships, and they’re fundamentally based on love or hate, which is sort of the same thing really. You’ve told me in the past that the fae don’t change, but just a minute ago you said she did. All this time you’ve been insisting that she’s your aunt, even though everyone told you otherwise. Today’s the first time you said she wasn’t, and it didn’t sound believable. You made it real. You made her your family, even if it was just through stubbornness.

“The fae can’t change. That’s what they taught us, and it was true until now. The vampires didn’t change her, you did. Somehow you touched her heart,” finished Janice.

Will let the words sink in. He’d have to think about it more. Glancing over, he saw Tiny looking proud. While Janice was looking away from him, his friend mouthed a few silent words at Will, ‘She’s smarter than you.’

An evil thought came to Will, and he didn’t waste time acting on it. Holding his friend’s gaze, he took on an air of outrage. “Damn, Tiny! What are you staring at? Don’t leer at her like that!”

Janice’s head whipped around, and Tiny’s face went red as he stammered and tried to defend himself, “I-I wasn’t! I swear!” For a split-second his eyes darted toward Will, promising painful retribution.

“What were you looking at?” she asked, already fully aware of his innocence. Janice loved to torment Tiny, and she wasn’t about to pass up the chance Will had given her.

“Not you!”

“What then?” she demanded.

Tiny’s eyes roamed about for a moment, then settled lower.

“My hips?” suggested Janice.

“Your horse!”

Will snickered and Tiny glared daggers at him. “Look at her withers,” Will enthused. “You don’t see lines on a mare like that very often.” He let his eyes linger on Janice’s horse, or perhaps her legs, making his gaze deliberately ambiguous as he affected a lewd expression. “A lovely filly indeed.”

Thunderturnip snorted and tossed his head, seeming to agree.

Tiny gave his mount a confused look. “You aren’t helping.”

“So, it wasn’t the mare?” asked Janice.

“It was,” declared Tiny.

“You find my horse more interesting to look at than me. Is that what you’re saying?” she teased.

Tiny growled in frustration, and Janice couldn’t keep up the act any longer. She laughed, Will laughed, and Thunderturnip nickered along with them.

Chapter 40

Night fell, and they continued to ride. “You really intend to ride all night long?” asked Tiny for perhaps the fifth time.

Will’s lips formed a quiet smile. “You didn’t have to come with me.”

“Don’t make me knock you off that pony,” returned his friend.

Will’s horse was not a pony. She was a plain brown mare of perfectly average size, the same horse he’d primarily ridden since losing his first horse to the trap on the mountain road to Klendon. They’d tried to convince him to take a more hot-blooded courser for speed, or even a destrier, similar to the one Tiny now rode, but Will had refused. He had no intention of running races or taking his steed into battle. He had no idea what the mare’s name had been originally, but he called her Plum for reasons he couldn’t identify.

Plum wasn’t a standout in any particular way. She wasn’t nervous or flighty like a courser, nor did she amble with a smooth gait like the expensive palfrey Janice now rode. Plum was what the stablemen called a ‘rouncey,’ a simple all-rounder who did well whether you put her in front of a cart or used her for riding. She wasn’t old, being only five, but she had a calm disposition that made her suitable for the elderly and safe enough for children.

Since Will hadn’t been raised atop horses the way most of the nobility had, he found the mare to be exactly what he preferred—simple and no-nonsense. Plum also possessed an uncommon level of stamina and endurance. She might not be the fastest runner, but over the long haul she could outperform most equines, except mules and asses.

Tiny had to walk beside Thunderturnip for at least as much time as he rode, perhaps more, to keep from winding the great beast, and though Will did the same for Plum, it wasn’t really necessary. He could tell she still had plenty of reserve to carry him further if need be. Maybe. After all, he wasn’t a horse expert by any stretch of the imagination.

The main reason for walking the animals was simply because they wouldn’t be stopping for the night. At a slow pace, the horses could manage at least eight hours with a rider, but to last twenty-four hours or longer was a significant challenge that required either regular rest stops, or periods with the rider walking alongside on foot.

Janice’s palfrey was bred for easy riding, and with the light load, she had the easiest task, while poor Thunderturnip had to carry a giant. It was a testimony to the charger’s strength that he could bear Tiny’s weight at all, at least in Will’s opinion.

“The moon sets well before dawn tonight,” Tiny reminded. “It’s going to be hard to see.”

“We’ll walk then. I’ll lead Plum, and you and Janice can follow me in a line. If it’s too dark to see at all, I have a rope you can hold onto to keep from getting lost.”

“Can you really see if it’s that dark?” asked Janice. “What if it’s cloudy and there’s no starlight?”

Will nodded. “You followed me through the sewers, remember? I can see even if there’s no light, such as in a cave.”

“How?” she asked. “I understand you can change how sensitive your eyes are, but surely there has to be some light.”

“There is,” said Will. “There’s a lot more different types of light than people realize. There’s light created by the heat of our bodies, or even the warmth of inanimate objects. There are other kinds of light that pass through us all the time, some of it only partially, and some of it without being affected at all. Some types of vision are disorienting, but I’m never really in the dark.”

Looking ahead, Will spotted something sitting motionless on the road before them, a cat. He might have noticed the animal sooner, but its lack of movement had made it harder to spot. He pulled back on the reins until Plum stopped. His friends did likewise, giving him odd looks as he dismounted. “Something wrong?” asked Tiny.

“No,” said Will. “There’s someone on the road ahead of us that I need to talk to.”

Tiny squinted, looking forward into the gloom. “I can’t see anyone.”

“He can see us already,” Will replied.

“Non-human then,” offered Janice.

He nodded. “Non-mortal, but he’s a friend of sorts. I’ll be back in a few minutes. He won’t talk if there’s anyone else nearby. Stay on your guard.”

“He’s dangerous?” asked Tiny.

“He is, but not to us. I’m more worried about the vampire following me. He might try something funny while I’m not with you.”

Tiny’s sword left its sheath in a smooth motion. “Where?”

Will shrugged. “I don’t know. He stays far enough away that I can’t see him, but Tailtiu warned me a while back and I’m sure he’s probably still out there. Just be wary.”

Janice lifted one hand and three brilliant yellow orbs drifted up and away, lighting the terrain around them in every direction for fifty yards or more. Will saw the goddamn cat moving farther away to avoid being seen. “I don’t think that was really necessary, but I won’t fault you. I’ll be a short way out of sight. Don’t worry.”

“That’s not wise if there’s a vampire out there,” warned Janice.

Will laughed. “Don’t worry. The one I’m going to talk to is more dangerous than a whole pack of vampires. I’ll be safe.” He started walking before they could argue more.

Thanks to Janice’s overachieving light spell, it was almost five minutes before he was completely out of sight, and the Cath Bawlg allowed him to draw close. “I’ve been wondering if you would show up,” announced Will.

“You shouldn’t have anticipated me,” said the cat’s deep voice. “You know I’m not the bearer of glad tidings.”

“Tell that to Sammy,” he joked. Over the last year, the goddamn cat had taken to staying at his mother’s house, and his cousin Sammy had been pampering the demigod without realizing he was anything but an ordinary stray.

“I cannot. I will not be seeing her again, or you. This is my farewell.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “I thought cats didn’t say goodbye.”

“They don’t talk either,” observed the Cath Bawlg, “but you should consider it an honor as I rarely give notice before resuming my travels.”

“Where are you going?”

“Away. Death looms close upon me in this world. If I am to continue, it will be elsewhere.”

Will frowned. “But you’re immortal.”

“I am immortal, but not eternal. Though I do not die easily, there are beings able to accomplish the task. One of them prepares to do so.”

Will mentally ran through the cat’s list of enemies: elves, sorcerers, fae, and demons. There was only one obvious choice. “A demon-lord,” he announced. “How do you know?”

“You should be aware by now that I can see probabilities.”

“The future.”

“Possibilities,” corrected the demigod. “My survival is unlikely if I remain.”

Will felt suddenly alone, as though a cold wind had blown through his soul. Though his relationship with the Cath Bawlg didn’t really exceed that of a friendly acquaintance, he had thought of the demigod as something like a secret protector. The cat never admitted it, and his assistance always came unasked for and unbidden, but he’d saved Will’s life more than once. Whatever was powerful enough to scare the immortal away was certain to be bad news for lesser beings.

“And mine?” asked Will. “Will I survive?”

“No. Your death is far more certain than my own. I have come to offer advice, as a measure of my fondness.”

He already knew what would come next. “Let me guess. Give up, go home. Take my friends and family somewhere safe.”

“There is nowhere that is safe,” said the Cath Bawlg in a gloomy tone. “But you could survive in relative peace, before the end.”

“Then end,” repeated Will. “If we’re talking about demons, you’re referring to something like what happened to your world, right?”

“You’ve gotten smarter, wizard.”

Wizard, not wizardling, noted Will. Is he giving me a compliment?

“You can consider it such. I am not one for empty flattery.”

“You told me before you couldn’t read thoughts!” Will exclaimed.

The goddamn cat began cleaning one paw. “I see probabilities. They make it easy to guess what you’re thinking.”

“So, you’re smart enough to guess my thoughts, and to run when danger looms,” said Will sourly.

“I am given to understand that I am exceptionally intelligent, not to mention handsome, compared to most felines, though it shouldn’t be surprising, considering my origin.”

“Who told you that?”

“An authority among your kind.”

Will knew immediately. “Sammy.”

“She is far smarter than most of your perpetually befuddled race. She was the first among your household to realize how to properly appreciate me,” said the Cath Bawlg.

“I fed you,” argued Will.

“Have you ever had roast pork?”

Will fell silent. What the hell?

“You have, and yet you never offered me any. Normally I prefer my food still warm and moving, but roast pork was a revelation. Perhaps you understand the gap between you and her now. Your cousin is a woman of divinely inspired sensibilities. I will regret leaving your world more since gaining that knowledge. If only I had learned of it centuries ago.”

“And what about Sammy? You’re fine with leaving her to die too? You’ll miss the roast pork more?” he asked angrily.

The goddamn cat gave it some thought before finally answering. “Yes, the pork is definitely my biggest regret. Your cousin would be my second greatest regret.”

“And me?”

“Somewhere between eggs and raw fish.”

“Really?”

“You should feel honored. In my time I’ve even been forced to eat rotten flesh, and yet few mortals rate higher than that in my opinion.”

Will couldn’t maintain his anger. He’d been angry for days, maybe weeks. Being with his friends had released a lot of his tension, and he wasn’t capable of reclaiming it. He began to laugh. “I guess I should be grateful.” A moment later, he made a declaration. “I don’t care if it’s hopeless. I’m going to fight. Do I have any chance at all?”

“Without me? None.”

“Then help me! If not for my sake, at least for Sammy’s!”

“Think, human. It shouldn’t be too hard. What do you think the circumstances of my death will be? It’s almost impossible to capture a being that can see future possibilities, otherwise I would not have survived so long.”

It came to him a second later. “You’ll die trying to help me.” The silence stretched out for an untold time, but the goddamn cat never answered. Eventually, Will spoke again, “I understand now. I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“If it’s any consolation, your chances only improve a small amount even with my help.”

“That’s something at least.”

“For you. Your odds improve, mine become almost nonexistent. Even if you win, I will be unlikely to survive to revel in it. Don’t blame yourself, though. You’ve come far in the short time you’ve had to explore your power. You just don’t have the strength needed yet.”

“You called me a wizard. That means something,” Will said firmly.

“It does. You merit the title now. In another year, perhaps less—things might be different.”

Will stared at his feet for a moment, then answered, “You’re wrong.”

“Doubtful.”

He fixed the goddamn cat in his gaze. “Stick around long enough to find out. Even without your help, I’ll give this demon-lord a kick so hard he’ll be tasting his balls for the rest of his very short life.”

The Cath Bawlg hissed, an entirely feline expression that Will had trouble interpreting. Then his voice rumbled out, questioning, “Have you found your first talent yet, wizard? What is it?”

“I guess you haven’t been watching me very well then.”

“What is it? Is it prescience? If so, then maybe…”

“No. It isn’t anything like that,” admitted Will.

“Too bad,” said the demigod. “Your confidence made me wonder. If I thought you had better knowledge of the coming days than I do, I might have changed my decision.” He rose to his paws and began to walk farther away, into the gloom.

“What do I tell Sammy when I see her? She’s going to be looking for you.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s better if she thinks me an ordinary stray, one that simply wandered off. It’s as close to the truth as anything else.”

Will walked back to the others with his head filled with dark thoughts. They relaxed when they saw him, though they could tell he wasn’t pleased. “Bad news?” asked Tiny.

“Demons,” said Will.

“Again?” said Tiny. “You already have a vampire following you. That’s enough danger for most people.”

Janice asked the most pertinent question. “Where are these demons?”

“No idea,” said Will. “But we’re probably going to find them at the worst time, while we’re fighting a war here in Darrow.”

“Was that the cat you met with?” she asked.

He nodded.

Janice brightened. “Did he give you some sort of advice? I remember you saying he mentioned cleaning last time. Maybe a clue to help you fight them?”

“I’m not sure,” said Will evasively. “He was sort of cryptic.”

“Tell us what he said,” urged Janice. “Maybe we can figure it out together.” Her eyes moved from him to Tiny and back again, showing a simple faith in their combined ability to overcome adversity together. The realization made Will’s chest grow tight.

“Umm, I’m not allowed to repeat it to anyone, otherwise it won’t work,” he improvised.

“But you just said you don’t know what it meant,” noted Tiny.

Will nodded. “That’s part of what makes it so confusing.” Neither of his friends looked happy at his non-explanation, so he decided to simply fabricate something. “I can’t say much, but whenever it all goes to hell, don’t try to help me until you see the cat. No matter how bad it seems, just run away. You’ll know it’s time to fight when the goddamn cat appears. Got it?”

Tiny crossed his arms stubbornly. “If I see some demon attack you, I’m not going to just stand around.”

He glared at his friend. “You will if you want to win. Actually, it’s worse than that. You have to run when I tell you to.”

Janice wasn’t buying it. “That makes no sense.”

Will nodded. “I don’t like it either, but you have to run when I say to. The cat will show up after that, and that’s when you’ll know it’s time to come back and save me.”

She and Tiny looked at each other uncertainly, then she responded, “I think you’re making things up.”

He shook his head. “Now you see what I mean. He told me not to say anything because you wouldn’t do it if I told you beforehand.”

“Is there someone else I can talk to?” asked Janice, pretending to look over his shoulder. “Someone with better sense?”

Will smirked. “Sorry, Selene isn’t around at the moment.”

They resumed riding after that, and Will’s two friends let their mounts drop back a short distance. Whether they thought it was far enough that he couldn’t hear them, or they simply didn’t care, he couldn’t be sure, but they were soon talking quietly to each other. “What do you think?” Janice asked.

Tiny was unabashed and direct with his opinion. “It didn’t make sense. He was trying to imply we’d run away if he didn’t tell us, but we wouldn’t if he did. That’s ass backwards. I wouldn’t abandon him either way.”

She nodded. “Exactly. He’s an idiot.”

Will couldn’t take it anymore. Raising his voice, he turned and addressed them, “I can hear everything you’re saying.”

Janice stood in her stirrups and responded even louder, “Who do you think I was talking to? Dimwit!”

Chapter 41

They continued through the night, though it never got quite dark enough for his friends to need a rope to keep from losing him. An hour after dawn, they saw the river, and soon after, the bridge that led across to the crossroad. Soon enough they would be able to meet up with First Division, since they should be close by.

There was no sign of either the First or the Third when they reached the crossroad. They stopped for a break, and while Tiny stood beside Thunderturnip, feeding the horse his favorite snack, he asked, “Where did the Patriarch come up with so many soldiers?”

Will had been lost in his own thoughts, so he was caught off-guard. “Huh?”

“You said that all the intelligence indicated they were short on men, yet they had enough to send First Division running with their tail tucked between their legs, and even with Third Division they couldn’t turn the tide,” said Tiny.

“That’s what we thought,” agreed Will. “The numbers aren’t beyond belief, but after losing their garrison at Klendon, and with what they still had at Maldon, it’s more than we expected.”

“Do you think it’s mercenaries?” suggested the squire.

That had actually been a topic of some discussion while preparing for the invasion, but there’d been no sign that the Patriarch had made an agreement with one of the neighboring powers. “We’re fairly sure that Trendham has stayed out of it, and Faresh is out of the question. I’m no expert on the other nations, but the only real possibilities that were considered viable were Barsta and Shimera.”

Barsta was barely a nation, according to what Will had learned. It was a loose collection of thanes ruling over small villages. Most of the Terabinian peers considered them little more than barbarians. The only time they became something akin to a nation was during times of war, when a high king would be selected to unify them. They did have a lot of free manpower, though, and a reputation for solid service, despite their wild nature. That made them popular as mercenaries.

But Shimera was where Will would put his money, if he had to bet. Shimera was a tightly controlled monarchy, ruled by one of the few men who might be even crazier than Lognion, Gavin Ferallon. What made it a sure bet, though, was the fact that the Shimerans were demon worshippers. The monarchy was firmly in the grip of the Church of the Iron Fist. It was hard to guess who held the most power in Shimera, the mad king or the demonic priesthood, but few who asked the question lived long enough to talk about it.

Will had encountered demons before. They’d been servants of the Shimeran priests who helped Darrow invade Terabinia years before. They’d also been sent as assassins to kill Selene even more recently, and it was their influence that had convinced the former Duchess Arenata to attempt the summoning of the demon-lord Leycachak. Will glanced down at the breastplate he now wore, a memento of that encounter.

“The cat said there were demons,” reminded Tiny.

Will nodded. “It’s almost certainly the Shimerans, and if they sent two divisions into a full retreat, there are probably a lot of them.”

“Shouldn’t there be someone here?” asked Janice. “All our messengers have to pass through this place.”

“Sub-Marshal Spry should have left at least a company here when he left with the Third Division,” agreed Will. The crossroad was a key location, since supplies from Klendon would all pass through, either on their way to Maldon to the north, or the front lines advancing on Myrsta. But there was no sign of anyone in the vicinity.

“Where are they?” asked Tiny. “More importantly, which way do we go from here? Have First and Third already passed through on the way to Klendon, or are they still to the east of us?”

Janice made an appeal to logic. “If they were retreating, it would be reasonable to assume they wouldn’t leave anyone here. They couldn’t leave a unit behind if the entire Darrowan army was about to pass through in pursuit.”

Her reasoning was sound, but Will wasn’t convinced. “If two divisions passed through in a hurry, followed by an even larger enemy force, we’d see signs of their passing. That many men moving quickly can’t keep themselves strictly to the roadway. It just isn’t big enough.” He waved his hands at the road’s verges, which were still mostly covered in grass. “We came through at a reasonable pace and kept to the road. There’s no sign of a hurried retreat here.”

“If we’d waited to travel with the army, you would have scouts to send out,” said Tiny in a sour tone.

Will’s face brightened. “You’re right, and maybe I still can.” He turned to Janice. “Get a force-dome ready. I want you two inside it when I give the word.”

She had already guessed who he was calling for. “Is that really necessary? We helped save her after all.”

He had already whispered the name three times and felt a response. Tailtiu was coming. “She’s stronger than all three of us and has no understanding of restraint or morals.” He looked past her to Tiny, then back again. “She had a rather strong attraction to him in the past, and I have no way of controlling her now that bargains no longer bind her actions.”

“I’ll put up a force-dome,” she replied without reservation.

“Make it as small as possible to conserve turyn. You may have to stay in there for a while,” suggested Will. Janice nodded and began the spell construct. Once her attention was diverted, he looked at Tiny and mouthed the words, ‘you’re welcome.’

The big man’s expression was confused until Janice finished. “Stand close to me,” she commanded. “No, closer. Don’t be so shy.”

The squire was beginning to blush, even though there was still half a foot between them. Will guessed it was a small enough distance, but apparently Janice had also decided to capitalize on the moment, though her face revealed nothing. Stepping into him, she put her arms around Tiny. “Like this, so I don’t have to waste my magic.” She released the spell, leaving very little wiggle room for the warrior to distance himself.

Will tried not to laugh. Tiny had frozen in a strange position, pressing his body outward to try and avoid crowding the woman seemingly trapped beside him. “Stop making such a big deal of this, we’re not exactly strangers,” complained Janice. “We’ve even kissed before.”

Tiny groaned. “Please don’t remind me! Not now, of all times.”

She lifted one brow. “Oh! Was it that repugnant?”

“No!”

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked, turning so she could face the other direction.

“Stop moving!” pleaded the big man.

Will would have kept laughing, but he felt a shift in the currents of turyn. Tailtiu was near. Turning his head, he saw an owl drift down to land in front of him. Moments later it shifted, becoming his aunt’s familiar form, lithe, elfin, and entirely nude. “Pets of yours, master?” she remarked, eyeing his companions.

“Friends. They helped me rescue you, if you recall.”

Tailtiu winced at the memory. “Don’t remind me of that day.” Then she squinted at Tiny. “The big one looks familiar. How long have you kept them prisoner like this?”

“They aren’t prisoners, they’re—”

“Oh! It’s a breeding pair!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t realize humans had such bizarre customs. Is this why you always refused me? Did you need a cage to be properly aroused, like that one?”

“They aren’t a breeding pair,” Will protested.

His aunt winked slyly. “They will be. Just leave them like that a while longer. I can always tell.” One of her hands twitched, plucking strings of turyn from the air. The power began to swirl around her, and vines started to grow in a ring around Will. Within seconds a green cage would be formed.

He closed one fist and exerted his will. What Tailtiu was doing wasn’t a spell, rather it was a form of wild magic, but even so it collapsed instantly. The vines that had already formed lost cohesion and dropped to the ground, while Tailtiu’s turyn dissipated like smoke in a strong wind. “Don’t do that again,” he warned.

Tailtiu’s eyes widened in surprise, and her tongue darted out to move across her lips. “Such strength!” she sighed loudly. “I can scarcely contain myself.” Her hands began to move, one up and across her chest, while the other migrated downward in a sinuous motion.

Will responded instantly, “Don’t do that either.”

Mercifully, Tailtiu stopped immediately. Turning sincere eyes toward him, she asked, “Why?”

Not another moral lesson, he groaned inwardly. How do I explain this to her? After a second, he settled on the easiest answer. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

She frowned. “It shouldn’t.” Then she glanced at Janice and Tiny. “And I think it would help inspire them. They need an example.”

“No, they don’t. They’ll work things out in their own time—when they’re ready. Forcing others to watch you put your own pleasure on display is another form of violence.”

“That makes no sense. They’d still enjoy it,” argued the fae woman.

“And it would still be violence. There are many ways to hurt people and most of them are not necessarily obvious.”

“You humans are too confusing. How am I supposed to know?”

Will was perplexed for a moment too. I was born and raised a mortal and I still have trouble figuring things out. How is a creature as alien as Tailtiu supposed to understand? He gave the only answer he could think of. “You have to ask. Humans are complicated, and no two of us are exactly alike. In general, though, if you haven’t asked, don’t do it.”

His aunt stared at him pensively for several seconds. “I’ll ask then.”

She turned to do just that, but Will stopped her. “I’m here too, and I don’t want to see that.” Liar! screamed a voice in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. “I have a more urgent issue.”

“Tell me what you need—master.” Tailtiu bowed her head demurely, as if she hadn’t just been overtly defiant just moments before.

I hate it when she does that, thought Will. “I need your speed, stealth, and acute powers of observation. I’m not sure whether my army is east or west of here, and just as importantly, I need to know the location and strength of any enemies in the region.”

“That’s easy,” said his aunt, pointing across the river. “You left your army north of here just yesterday.”

“Not that part. I split my forces. Some of them went eastward when we went north.”

“Ahh, I see,” she responded. “Easy enough. Watch me change.” She stretched languidly as she said it.

“There’s no need for that,” said Will, glancing away.

“To learn!” said his aunt. “You’ve learned other things. Shapeshifting is very useful. You may as well observe me.” She winked at him when he reluctantly looked back. “Besides, if you do learn it, the possibilities are endless!” Before he could protest, her flesh began to flow like water, though slower than usual.

He watched, realizing she was deliberately trying to help, but he found the sight disturbing. Eventually she finished, and a huge owl stood where she had been. As he had learned from older conversations, adding mass was easier than subtracting. When she became a bear or deer, Tailtiu created a type of false flesh from pure turyn, but when she became a bird, she retained her usual size and adjusted the wing and body proportions accordingly. It was a good thing she had such a small frame, otherwise flight would have been difficult.

Seconds later, she shot into the air and began winging her way out of sight, remaining close to the tops of the trees. Janice dismissed her force spell and she and Tiny stepped apart. Both of them were blushing.

“You see why I said she was dangerous,” said Will.

Janice was fanning herself with one hand, though the weather wasn’t particularly warm. “Oh, yes. Definitely.” She seemed distracted.

“Is everything all right?” asked Will, looking at both his friends. Tiny’s expression was particularly serious.

Janice nodded. “I’m fine. No problem at all, though I think John—”

“Janice!” groaned Tiny, his face growing redder. “Please.” He turned away and made a show of going to check on his horse.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she called in his direction, then her eyes darted back to Will. There was a mixture of embarrassment and mischief in them.

“What?” whispered Will quietly.

“It was nothing to be embarrassed about,” she said softly. “I think he just needed to pee.”

Will frowned. “I doubt that. We stopped just before we crossed the river.”

She gave him an intense look, indicating he might be dense. “Remember, last year? When I woke you and you had pee?”

“Oh.” Then his eyes shot wide. “Oh!” It had been a particularly embarrassing moment for him and was one of his friends’ favorite stories to recount. Unable to help himself, Will began to chuckle.

“Not a word, Will,” growled Tiny from the other side of Thunderturnip. “Not one word, you hear me?”

Will held his hands up, his face showing nothing but innocence. “I didn’t say anything!”

Tiny stared at him for half a minute, then went back to using the curry comb on his mount.

“It’s a perfectly natural thing anyway,” said Will nonchalantly, before an evil grin spread across his face. “Nothing to be flustered about. Happens to everyone sooner or later.”

An inarticulate noise emerged from the big man’s throat and he came around Thunderturnip with murder in his eyes. Will laughed and began to run, leading Tiny in circles around Janice and the horses.

It was good that he had always been faster than his friend.

Chapter 42

Tiny was a large man, and strong as he was, his endurance wouldn’t allow him to chase Will indefinitely. Eventually, he had to rest. He stopped, hands on his knees, while Will grinned at him from the other side of the horses. “You’ll have to sleep eventually,” he panted. “That’s when I’ll get you.”

Janice sighed, rolling her eyes. “That’s enough of that. Aren’t you hungry? We haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Will summoned a loaf of bread and held it up. “Truce?”

The big man eyed him warily, then finally relaxed. “Damn you for being a sly one, beguiling me with your fancy bread.”

“Better that than a backside surprise, eh?” said Will, unable to help himself. Tiny let out a shout, and Will tossed the bread to Janice, ready to run again. He took two steps, before she stepped into his path and thrust her foot into his legs, tripping him.

Will went down hard, scraping his chin. He stared up at Janice, shocked by the treachery, then Tiny loomed over him, cracking his knuckles. Will held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Janice interrupted, “Go ahead and give him some lumps if you want. He probably deserves it—but—if you want some of this bread, you’ll sit down and make peace, otherwise I’ll see to it that you don’t get a single bite.”

Tiny groaned, obviously distressed by the dilemma.

Will piped up then. “Actually, I can do better than the bread. I have steaks we can fry up.”

Tiny swallowed. “You’re bluffing. We can’t make a fire. The smoke would give us away and we don’t know where the enemy is.”

He wiggled his fingers. “You know me. Do you really think I haven’t spent a little time learning spells for cooking in situations like this?”

His large friend was still suspicious. “You wouldn’t cheat like that. You prefer cooking the regular way.”

“It’s hardly a cheat, just a spell to heat up a stone so I can cook without a fire,” explained Will. When he saw Tiny’s eyes glancing around to see if a suitable stone might be nearby, he added, “I brought the stone as well. It’s easier than hunting for one each time.”

“This better be good,” warned Tiny.

Will grinned. “Trust me.” He produced a large, flat stone from the limnthal and then brought out a flat iron pan. To that he added a large knob of butter. Using a spell to heat the stone, he set the pan on it to melt the butter while he peeled and minced some garlic. With salt, pepper, and a quarter hours’ time, Will had three steaks ready that he would have been proud to serve anywhere.

Tiny moaned as he took the first buttery bite, then looked gratefully at Will. “You’re the best friend I could have ever asked for.”

“I love you too, my friend,” Will responded sincerely.

Janice watched them in disbelief, her plate still untouched in her lap. “So that’s all it takes? A piece of meat?”

“You know what they say about the way to a man’s heart,” Will reminded, giving her a wink. “They aren’t wrong. You might want to think about upping your culinary skills, lest I steal him out from under your nose.”

“Hmm. Is that so, John?” she asked.

Tiny replied around his latest mouthful of meat, “You haven’t tasted it yet, so you’re are as yet ignorant of the delights upon your plate. You should be grateful he even cooked one for you after what you did.”

Janice looked askance at him. “What did I do?”

Tiny clucked reproachfully. “Tripping a friend like that isn’t very nice.”

“You were the one who wanted to wallop him!”

“An honest walloping,” countered Tiny. “He knew I was after him. What you did was a sneaky betrayal.” Looking at her plate, he asked, “Are you going to eat that?”

Janice glared back at him. “Unbelievable.” Then she finally took her first bite of the steak on her plate. An inarticulate sound of pleasure escaped her mouth as she began to chew.

Tiny pointed his knife in her direction. “See?”

Looking at Will, Janice entreated him. “Marry me, Will.”

Tiny got up and moved to sit between them. “Too late. I found him first.”

“Just so everyone knows, I’m already married. Remember?” said Will.

Janice finished her first mouthful and began confidently chewing her second bite. “First or not, you don’t have a chance. I’m prettier. Right, Will?”

“I’m not answering that one,” said Will quickly.

Tiny slapped his thigh. “He prefers ‘em big and meaty. A scrawny little bird like you wouldn’t be enough for him.”

The food was good, and all three of them were soon laughing. The mood might have remained good, but soon after they finished eating, Tailtiu returned. Janice created another force-dome, though Will noticed she gave herself and Tiny a little more room this time.

“Something smells good,” said his aunt when her transformation was complete.

“What did you find?” Will asked.

Tailtiu pointed west. “There’s no one in that direction.” Then she pointed east, in the direction of the road that led to Myrsta. “The enemy is hiding over that way, just a few miles from here in the woods close to the road. Beyond that are some of your soldiers, and farther on I think I caught hints of even more enemies, but I didn’t go far enough to see.”

Will frowned. “I thought they had broken out past the enemy to their rear.”

Tailtiu shrugged. “They’re not aware of the enemy on this side of them.”

“Why not?”

“They’re hiding. The trees are too thin, so they’ve cloaked themselves with a strange mixture of illusion and death magic.”

“Death magic?”

“I’m not sure what you call it. The poisonous sort that demons use. I don’t really understand how it works, but the effects are simple enough. They’re killing the plants and trees nearby and using the energy to fuel a persistent illusion that hides their soldiers.”

It was then that Will noticed something moving near her feet. It looked to be a piece of brown cloth, but after a few seconds he recognized it as a canvas bag. “What’s that?”

Tailtiu lifted the sack with one hand, then fished around in it with the other before drawing out a furry, wiggling mass. Small whimpers and a pink tongue confirmed the creature’s identity. It was a small white and brown puppy, somewhere around ten weeks of age. The fae woman held it up by the scruff, eyeing it clinically before settling it more comfortably in the crook of her arm. “This is Dinner,” she announced.

“No, it’s a dog,” corrected Will. “Why do you have a puppy?”

She sneered at him. “I know what it is, and obviously you weren’t listening. I just told you what I plan to do with it.” Tailtiu deftly slipped the small canine back into the sack.

Will felt sick at the thought. “You can’t do that. Where did you find it?”

His aunt shrugged. “I spotted it in the bushes beside the road a few miles from here. Some fool dropped his food, but his loss is my gain.”

“We don’t eat dogs,” he reiterated.

“Then you’re fools. Do you have any idea how tasty mortal flesh is? You’re lucky I don’t eat you.”

“The accord—”

“Only pertains to humans,” she said, cutting him off. “Not that it’s really a problem for me anymore, either way. As I said, you’re very fortunate that I haven’t decided to eat you.”

“You aren’t eating that puppy,” Will said, his tone that of a warning. “That’s an order.”

Tailtiu stared at him in surprise. “You’re serious? I’m here to provide you with help and assistance and you want to steal my rightful prize?”

“Dogs are friends, not food.”

“Fine,” she agreed, waving a hand to prevent him from starting a speech. Lifting the sack, she walked toward Janice and Tiny within their defensive dome. “I’ll just leave it over here and you can sort things out after we’re done.”

Will started to relax, but as soon as she had put some distance between them, he felt the turyn in the area shift. Mist started to envelop them, but Will dismantled the wild magic before it could get far. Unfortunately, though, that gave his aunt plenty of time to create even more space between them. Even on two legs, she was almost as fleet as a deer. Within seconds, she was thirty yards away, and then her form shifted, and a winged owl was flying away, a puppy-filled sack dangling from her talons.

“Damn it!” he yelled in frustration.

Janice lowered her force-dome. “Was that a puppy?”

Will explained what had happened, and both his friends seemed disgusted by the story, but their thoughts regarding his reaction were slightly different. While Tiny felt he’d acted appropriately; Janice was less enthused.

“You realize you just drove off our most powerful ally,” she informed him.

Tiny stared at her. “It was a puppy, Jan.” Will was surprised to hear his friend shorten Janice’s name; it spoke of an even greater familiarity between them than he had realized was there.

“Is that more important than the lives of our soldiers?” she asked, raising one brow. When Tiny stared at her in horror, she amended her statement. “Look. I’m not saying Will should have let her have the puppy, but couldn’t he have waited to confront her over it until after he had finished finding out everything she had seen?”

Will sat down, resting his chin on his hands. “I didn’t think she’d just run. She’s always listened to me before.”

Tiny still seemed upset. “We don’t negotiate with people who eat puppies, Jan. There’s a lot of gray areas in this world and few things are black and white, but eating puppies is evil. Children and mothers are sacred, even if they aren’t human.”

Will decided to move on. “I do wish I’d gotten more information first, but given what we know—”

“Do you think I’m a proponent of sacrificing children?” demanded Janice, who was obviously more hurt by Tiny’s last words than Will had realized. “I’m not, but I am an adult, John, and sometimes adults have to be practical when it comes to their priorities.”

Tiny nodded along with an air of agitation. “And children are always the first priority.”

“It was a dog,” she replied in exasperation.

Tiny glared at her. “It was just a dog? Really?”

“I didn’t say ‘just,’” she corrected. “And I didn’t say we shouldn’t do anything, but clearly it wasn’t the most important thing to consider at the time.”

The big man’s face was turning red, but Will stood up before he could reply. “I need you two to shut the hell up!” Both of them started to speak, but Will smothered their voices with his new talent. A tense silence followed, into which he spoke, “Tiny, go sit down over there until you cool off.” He pointed to one side of their makeshift camp, then he looked at Janice. “You go over there. I don’t want to hear any more from either of you for a few minutes. I need to think.” Angry tears were starting to well in her eyes, but he ignored them.

They’re like two lovesick teenagers, thought Will. Letting their emotions and something stupid derail everything else. He was certain he and Selene had never been so foolish. Selene was far too pragmatic for such silliness.

His thoughts solidified quickly. Sometimes the best thing to do wasn’t spending time trying to find the perfect solution—sometimes the best thing was simply to act quickly based on what you already knew. So far, it seemed to frequently be that way in war. Will lifted his voice. “Second and Sixth will get here in three days if we do nothing, but that isn’t good enough. I need them here tomorrow, but I’m going to have to settle for the day after since that just isn’t physically possible.”

“What are you thinking then?” asked Janice.

“You will ride back at speed and let Lambel and Hargast know they need to move even faster. I’ll find a way to warn the First, so they don’t run headfirst into the ambush. If they delay by a day, it will give Second and Sixth time to get here. Then we can reverse the ambush.”

“They just did a two-day march to Maldon, rested one day, fought, and now you want them to do another force march?” asked Tiny. “They won’t be at their best if they have to fight as soon as they get here.”

Will’s jaw clenched. “I know. But we don’t have a choice. Otherwise we’ll lose two divisions and the war. Make sure they know that. They’ll grow wings if they have to, to save their brothers in arms.”

Janice looked uncertain. “Are you sure? I get the feeling you’re just trying to get me out of the way.”

“He isn’t,” said Tiny firmly. “Will was in the Second with me. We stood shoulder to shoulder with a lot of them. They’ll run the whole damn way if they have to.” He met Janice’s eyes for a moment, then turned back to Will. “I can’t go, though. You’ll have to go with her.”

“There’s no way you can get through to the First,” said Will, “and she shouldn’t be alone on the road.”

“Too bad,” interrupted Janice. “John’s right. He’s too damn big. Thunderturnip can’t handle him on his back that long. I’m small, and my horse can carry me all day.”

Tiny nodded. “See?”

She faced Tiny then. “And you won’t be able to sneak anywhere without Will’s magic. I’ll ride alone.”

Tiny stared at her for several seconds, a strange mixture of anger and resignation showing in his eyes, but he couldn’t argue the point. Finally, he nodded. “Miss Edelman is right.”

Will saw her expression when Tiny called her ‘Miss Edelman.’ It was as though someone had thrown cold water on her. Janice went to her horse and started to saddle it. When Tiny moved to assist, she warned him away with a stern look. “I can saddle a horse just fine, Mister Shaw. I’ll be back as soon as possible, Will.”

A few minutes later, they stood watching her dwindle into the distance on the northern side of the river. “What’s wrong with you?” asked Will.

“Nothing,” said the squire, his tone flat.

“Really? Because I’ve never known you to be such a jackass before,” he replied harshly. After a moment, a thought came to him. “Is it because that way is safer than east?”

“She isn’t who I thought she was,” said Tiny hollowly.

Will gaped. “This is actually about the puppy? She was just trying to be practical.”

“That’s what they always say.”

“What about me? I think she was right. Don’t you have any judgment left to spare for me?” demanded Will angrily.

Tiny seemed to deflate, and when he turned his eyes on Will they were filled with a quiet sadness. “You can say whatever you want, but I know you, Will. You make mistakes sometimes, but your heart always comes first. Maybe you say she’s right, but you didn’t act accordingly. You told your aunt where the line was drawn. You did that first, rather than calculating what it might cost.”

“So, based on that, you think I’m wonderful, but she’s some kind of monster?”

The big man shook his head. “No. I know most people are like that. She’s not bad. It was my mistake for putting her up on a pedestal and thinking she was better than the rest.”

“You’re screwed up,” said Will. “And that means something coming from me. A few hours ago, you couldn’t stop making doe-eyes at Janice, and now you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her, Will. I could never hate her. I was just disappointed. I thought we had a future, but I can’t see myself with a woman who would give up a dog just because times might be hard.”

“What the hell? That’s a mighty big leap! How do you go from the one little thing she said to suggesting she’d get rid of the family dog? I know you’re not that stupid.” Will stared at his friend, then something clicked in his head. “Is this about something your mother did, or your father?”

“Just leave it alone, Will. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Will had the strong urge to punch his stubborn friend in the jaw, but Tiny was too big for it to be practical, and if he used magic instead it would just be pure abuse. You’ll talk about it sooner or later, he thought, or I’ll find a way to beat the piss out of you until you do.

Chapter 43

“You what?” demanded Tiny.

“I can’t bring you with me,” repeated Will. “Or Plum and Thunderturnip. I can move much faster and with less chance of detection if I’m alone and on foot.”

“You’re telling me I’m useless?”

Will looked at the horses. “Are you calling them useless too?”

“Don’t try and shift the subject,” growled his friend.

“I’m not. The same thing applies to them. You wouldn’t say they’re useless, but they definitely aren’t suited for this, so stop whining and find a good place to hide. Make sure you can see the crossroad from wherever you pick.”

Sullenly, his friend asked, “Why?”

“So I can see it too,” said Will. “Just because I’m leaving you behind doesn’t mean I don’t have a use for you. I can see any place where I have a close friend. That means you, even if you’re acting like a child currently.”

“Don’t push your luck. How can you see where I’m at?”

Will explained his astral travel, though he had to keep it as brief as possible. Then he outlined the rough plan he’d made. “Once I reach them, I’ll take command and make sure they don’t blunder into the ambush. It might not be easy with the other enemy force pushing from the other side, but I’ll find a way. Starting tomorrow afternoon, I’ll check on you every three or four hours to see if anything has changed. As soon as I see the reinforcements have arrived and are ready, I’ll turn First and Third around and we’ll hit the ambushers.”

Tiny looked thoughtful. “It sounds good, but how do we coordinate with you on this side? You may be able to see us, but we have no way of knowing what’s going on where you are.”

“You’ll just have to assume I can stick to the plan,” said Will. “If you have something specific to say, write it out in big letters on the ground. It has to be close to you, though. Basically, if it isn’t close enough for you to read it, I won’t be able to read it. Other than that, keep your ears open. As soon as I know the Second and Sixth have arrived, I will start moving them this direction. When you hear sounds of fighting, you’ll know it’s time.”

“If we can hear you.”

“You will,” said Will. “I may have one of the least useful talents a wizard could have, but you will definitely hear me.”

Tiny nodded. “You’re right.” As Will started to walk away, he asked, “I don’t suppose you have another loaf of that bread, do you?”

Will did, but he wasn’t in the mood to share. “You have your travel rations, and mine, since I’m leaving the horses here.”

Of course, the dried meat and biscuits they carried weren’t very pleasant to eat, as Tiny quickly pointed out. “They taste terrible.”

“Think of it as penance,” said Will.

His friend glared back. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Other than be an asshole,” Will declared. “I don’t know the story, but you’ve let your past problems affect your judgment. Janice isn’t the person that hurt you, and judging her for trying to be rational isn’t fair.”

“You don’t understand.”

Will’s temper flared and he took three long strides, until he was face to chest with his overlarge friend. He jabbed his finger against Tiny’s breastplate with enough force to disturb his balance. “I’m trying to keep you from making a stupid mistake, and I’m the world’s biggest expert on mistakes!” Then he stomped away. Before he was out of earshot, he looked back and added, “Reflect on what you’ve done, or no more steak for you!”

He fought the urge to break into a jog after that. If Tailtiu was correct, he only had a handful of miles to travel, ten at most. Although he could probably keep up a running pace for that long, even in armor, it would exhaust him for no good purpose, and it would make stealth much more difficult.

A brisk step was all he would need. With a thought, he camouflaged himself and silenced his clothing and armor. Smoothing his aura the way he had learned from watching Darla took a little more effort, but he was beginning to get much better at it. The two spells and one wild magic technique made him practically invisible, though he still needed to be cautious around enemy casters. The spells were visible as a distortion of turyn around him, though Darla’s technique went a long way to making it much harder to detect.

In the back of his mind, he worried about both Janice and Tiny, though perhaps more for the big warrior. The crossroad didn’t offer many hiding places, and Tiny was one of the most visible people imaginable. Thunderturnip certainly didn’t help matters either. His friend would need to move as far from the road as possible and use the scrubby trees in the area for cover.

But if he screws it up and gets spotted… Will dropped the thought there; it didn’t bear considering.

Keeping his eyes and ears open, Will was surprised at how effective the enemy illusion was. Even though he was alert for it, he didn’t spot it until he was within twenty yards of the enemy sentries. If he hadn’t been forewarned, he might have blundered right into them. He consoled himself with the fact that it was likely easier to spot from the air. The casters were ground-bound, and they tailored their illusions accordingly.

The first illusion Will had ever seen had been Arrogan’s, the day his grandfather had used it to conceal a road leading to his mother’s house. This illusion was similar in some ways, but the big difference was that it closely matched the natural turyn of the area. A regular illusion was impossible to spot with the mundane eye, unless it was poorly crafted, but it stood out easily to the turyn-sensitive eyes of a mage.

This one had been put together in an incredibly sneaky fashion. Demonic turyn, being antithetical to life, generally stood out even more sharply, but the Shimerans had found a way to use it to their advantage. The base spell seemed to draw the vital forces from anything in the area, primarily the plant life, and some of that turyn was used to produce the illusion, but a tiny portion of the void turyn was used to cancel out the turbulent flows that bled out around the edges.

The net effect was to make the illusion very difficult to spot at a distance, though it became easier for Will once he got a feel for its strange and particular patterns. His biggest question was whether it had been crafted by humans working in concert with demons, or whether the demons had simply done it themselves.

Once he realized he was about to blunder into the enemy pickets, Will froze in place and took several minutes to study his surroundings, trying to discern the enemy layout around him. The nearest sentry post held two men, and fifty yards along in either direction were two more. Will could either move along the line to try and find the end so he could circle past them, or he could slip between them and attempt to pass directly through.

He was confident enough in his skills that he decided to push straight through. Not only would that be the fastest course, but it would give him a close look at the enemy forces. It was riskier, and if the enemy soldiers were densely packed, it might wind up being disastrous, but he liked his chances. Will knew from his own time in the army how they would likely be arranged. Even if they were set for an ambush, they wouldn’t be holding a perfect shield wall while they waited. The men would be resting in place, sitting or standing with their respective units arranged in a rough order.

The lines wouldn’t form until the final horn was sounded. Then, assuming they had a similar level of discipline, the men would step up and form lines, shields, spears, reserves, and skirmishers. The reserve lines could be two or even three deep, depending on the relative length of the formation. The skirmishers usually stood at the rear, though they were frequently the first to see combat, for they would slip forward to harass the enemy before solid contact was made, throwing their short spears or javelins before retreating to the rear again.

At least that was how the Terabinians organized themselves, and while they hadn’t had an open-field battle with the Patriarch’s army yet, Will knew the Darrowans followed similar principles.

Unfortunately, his short period of self-education hadn’t dwelled much on the Shimerans, so if the soldiers here were actual mercenaries, they might use an entirely different setup. He hoped it was just the magic users that had come from Shimera, for that would mean the overall troop numbers were still in their favor.

Walking slowly, Will passed between the sentry positions. He had to stop twice, when something snapped under his feet. The silent armor spell didn’t do anything for sounds emanating from contact with objects beyond the user, such as the ground. There were higher-order spells that did, but it had never been enough of a problem for Will to invest the time in learning one. Fortunately, the sounds weren’t enough to stir the sentries from their places.

Once he was past them, Will slowed and finally stopped when he could see the main body of the enemy. Definitely not Darrowans, he decided with a grimace. Dark robes and void turyn caught his attention here and there—Shimeran priests, with their attendant demon familiars.

The soldiers were geared differently. He didn’t see anything like the skirmishers he was familiar with, but there was an abundance of crossbowmen. They were lightly armored, relying on boiled leather cuirasses on their torsos and similar greaves to protect their legs from the knee down. They lacked much in the way of padding.

From what Will knew, the leather was a poor substitute for a gambeson, but it made sense considering the warmer climate in their native land. The crossbowmen stood behind the main lines, which consisted of similarly armored spearmen, and a type of heavily armored infantry that Will had never seen before.

The heavy infantry didn’t rely on leather, but on steel plate instead. They lacked shields but made up for it with breastplates, helms, greaves, cuisses, vambraces and more. They were protected from head to toe with steel. Will could see that the backs of their legs were only lightly protected, and their helms were open faced, but even so, they were much better protected than the Terabinians. In place of shields they carried heavy, two-handed weapons: great swords, heavy axes, and two-handed war hammers.

Throw them into a general melee with us and we’re in trouble, but as long as we hit them in formation, they don’t have a chance, he decided. Large, swinging weapons didn’t do well in close quarters, as you were always endangering your companions. Consequently, the Shimerans would want to break through the Terabinian line as quickly as possible. If they could get into the middle, the odds would heavily favor them. But if Terabinian discipline held up, the Shimerans would be in for a bad time.

The crossbowmen were only a minor factor, in his opinion. Unless the Terabinians were caught unaware, their shields and padded gambesons would prevent most of the damage the crossbowmen could do. Will had been shot often enough to know. Still, it’s nice to have mail as well, he thought, looking down at his armor. He wished it was possible to give the same protection to all of his fellow soldiers, but time and money simply wouldn’t allow it.

Walking through the enemy groups was definitely possible, but there were Shimeran priests scattered here and there. Will worried about keeping active spells up while trying to slip by them. Darla’s technique was helpful, but if any of them were reasonably attentive, he thought he’d be spotted. Instead, he tried the opposite, dismissing the camouflage and silent-armor spells and just relying on the Arkeshi turyn technique.

His heart sped up, until it felt as though it was trying to beat its way out of his chest. He was now completely visible, and his armor easily marked him as an outsider to anyone who might look at him, but he no longer stood out as unusual to magical senses. Based on his previous experiments walking around the markets in Cerria, it should work, so long as he didn’t do anything to draw attention to himself.

Trying to keep his breathing slow, Will began to walk.

No one paid him the slightest heed. He moved at a casual pace, stepping around men whenever one happened to get too close. On one particular heart-stopping occasion, a crossbowman looked directly at him, seeming to meet his eyes, but a second later the man’s attention drifted, and he looked away. Don’t look at me, thought Will, I’m no one. Nothing to see here.

Will was almost free and clear, close to passing by the last squad in his path, when a priest who was talking loudly backed out of the group and stumbled into him. He couldn’t understand the man’s language, and when the fellow looked at him for a moment and seemed to curse him, Will simply nodded apologetically.

And then, miraculously, the priest turned and began to continue on his way. Will began to breathe again, until he saw the man’s demon familiar turn to stare at him. The creature was small, the size of house cat, with the shape of a demented monkey. It studied him with malice in its eyes, then opened its mouth and spoke in clear, unaccented Darrowan. “You’re dead, human.”

Will wasn’t sure what kept him from jumping clean out of his skin, or running, but he didn’t. Instead, he took two more steps forward and one to the side, carrying him clear of the gap between groups and out of the priest’s line of sight before the man could turn around. He heard the Shimeran say something to the demon, though he couldn’t understand what was said. Assuming the man didn’t speak Darrowan, he was likely asking the demon to translate.

If the monkey-demon was alerting its master, then Will was sure the alarm would go up, which meant he had only seconds to do something. He’d already passed through the enemy formations, so only the outlying sentries on this side remained between him and where his own soldiers were. If I stay here, they’ll find me. If I run, they’ll see me for sure.

But at the moment, the only priest in his vicinity was the one whose demon had threatened him, and Will was moving steadily sideways to make sure that ever more soldiers stood between them. With a thought, Will restored his camouflage and silent-armor spells, and then he ran.

A few seconds later, someone shouted behind him, but nothing happened after that. Will kept running, streaking between the sentries and on to the freedom that lay beyond. If they noticed him, none of them said anything. Once he was fifty yards distant, Will stopped and listened, but there were no unusual sounds. In his mind, he could almost imagine the demon warning its partner, only to face an angry rebuke when no enemy was there to be found.

His relief was so profound that he had to fight the urge to drop the spells and yell something salty at the Shimerans—but he refrained. Selene would be impressed with my maturity these days, he told himself.

Picking up speed, Will continued on at a light jog. The sooner he could reach his battered divisions and stop their retreat into the ambush, the better. He kept the camouflage spell active, though. The last thing he needed was to be attacked by his own men if he ran straight into them the way he had nearly done with the Shimerans.

At a guess, he covered roughly two miles of scrubby terrain that was predominately small trees and light undergrowth. Going north a short distance and using the road was tempting, but he knew better than to expose himself to more distant viewers.

Dusk had arrived and the sun was no longer visible when he finally heard the sounds of men on the road. He was glad to see that though they appeared battered and tired, whoever was currently commanding them had decided they could stop for the evening. Sentries were being set, and camp duties appeared to be progressing efficiently.

There were even wards in place. Will adjusted his turyn to slip through them, then made his way to the center, where the officers’ tents would be. It was time to resume command.

Chapter 44

Field Marshal Lustral and Sub-Marshal Nicht were in the midst of a disagreement when Will entered the tent and dropped the spells that had kept him unnoticed. They continued on for nearly a minute before becoming aware of his presence.

“It’s pure foolishness to stop here,” argued Fulstrom. “They’re scant miles behind us. The more ground we cover, the more likely we are to meet our relief before they overtake us again.”

Lustral eyed the sub-marshal with undisguised disdain. “They should be grateful we’re withdrawing. They don’t dare engage us again.”

“Are you mad?” demanded Fulstrom. “I know you took a solid knock to the head and you were unconscious for the worst of it, but they handed us our asses!”

“And I’m sure their losses were just as bad,” said Lustral.

Fulstrom’s eyes bulged so much they looked as if they might pop right out. “No. No, they weren’t. They were a fraction of ours. Do you not understand? We were thoroughly trounced. If Spry hadn’t cleared the way for us, it might have been—”

Lustral cut him off. “Victorious, Sub-marshal. Regardless of your personal opinions, that is how we are going to present this when we reunite with the others. Do you understand?”

Fulstrom simply gaped in silence, so flustered he couldn’t respond.

The field marshal continued, “We can either take the blame for this, or we can return as heroes who salvaged what we could after Spry’s blunder.”

“You can spin whatever fantasies you want in your reports, but the enemy behind us isn’t going to play along. We can’t camp here!” growled Fulstrom.

Will chose that moment to intervene. “Actually, much as I hate to agree with him, we do need to camp here.”

Both men turned to stare at him in shock, then responded with two different tones of surprise. “You!” exclaimed Lustral, in a tone of equal parts worry and disgust.

Fulstrom stiffened as an instinctive, “Sir!” leapt from his lips. He seemed both relieved and puzzled.

“It’s an illusion,” warned Lustral, backing up slightly.

“Shut up, Field Marshal,” snapped Will. “You could easily see an illusion if I was using one. Besides, in case you weren’t listening, I’m agreeing with you—though not for the same reasons.”

“How did you get here?” asked the sub-marshal.

“I rode like the wind and then went afoot when it became too difficult to sneak past the enemy.” He pointed to the west. “We have a large Shimeran force hidden alongside the road waiting for us.”

“Impossible,” sputtered Lustral, still trying to get his bearings.

Will went to the side of the tent, where a small table had a wooden pitcher on it. He poured himself a cup of water and then found a chair. “Allow me to rest my feet. It’s been a long journey.” They watched him finish his first long swallow, then he spoke again. “It’s entirely possible. I saw them with my own eyes.”

The field marshal stared while Fulstrom covered his face with both hands. Neither of them seemed to know what to make of the news. Will continued, “We will camp tonight, praying that the Darrowans don’t press their advantage. Hopefully, they are fully aware of where their mercenaries are, in which case they will want to wait until we spring the trap tomorrow. The odds will be stacked in their favor then, minimizing their losses, so I believe they’ll be patient.”

The sub-marshal found his voice at last. “But that just reinforces what I said. We have to move now. Either we turn and fight, or we rush the ambushers—tonight—when they aren’t fully prepared.”

“It would still be a disaster for us,” said Will. “And from what I’ve seen of what you have left, I don’t think we could take the Shimeran force in an open battle. I can’t speak to the odds against the Darrowan force, since I haven’t seen them. You were saying that they were far weaker, weren’t you, Field Marshal?” There was an ironic twist on his lips as he said the last.

“Closer to an even match,” said Lustral, reframing his earlier remarks.

“The scouts report they outnumber us two to one,” countered Fulstrom. “They are somewhat battle weary, as we are, but their morale is higher now that they’ve driven us into retreat.”

“I think I have a better grasp of things than you do, Sub-Marshal,” said the field marshal, keeping his tone more diplomatic than before.

Will came to a decision, and distasteful as it was, he couldn’t afford to delay it. “Sub-Marshal Nicht, please leave us for a while so I can speak privately with the field marshal.”

Fulstrom nodded quickly and left, though his features betrayed his obvious worry about the overall situation. Once they were alone, Will asked, “How long have you been working with them?”

“Excuse me?” Lustral’s face was a picture of innocent confusion.

“The Darrowans. You were the one who betrayed our choice of routes before we reached Klendon, weren’t you?”

Lustral’s eye twitched and then his face began to turn red. “I’ve been a faithful servant of King Lognion for my entire life. How dare you—” His voice cut off abruptly as Will paralyzed him with a near-instant source-link. The duke struggled internally, but despite his age and supposed experience, the nobleman failed to put up more than a token resistance.

Three major elementals started to manifest, but Will’s sword was already at the man’s throat. “You should reconsider that,” he warned. The elementals dwindled seconds later, and Will began rifling through the nobleman’s coat pockets. Lustral’s eyes bulged in outrage, but he could say nothing. Disappointingly, Will found nothing.

He would rather have found the evidence he expected, but he didn’t need it. Reaching out with his free hand, he pulled at the knot of turyn near Lustral’s heart. Three distinct enchantments came to the surface, and Will began picking them apart.

The paralyzed nobleman tried desperately to scream, but only his eyes would move, displaying panic and horror as Will undid the first of the three heart-stone enchantments. The elementals began to manifest again, but Will pushed the sword more firmly against his throat. “Don’t, or I’ll have to ruin your clothes.”

Tears of rage began running from Lustral’s eyes as Will finished freeing the other two elementals. Once he was done with that, he smiled sadly, then put away his sword. “See? Isn’t it nicer that I didn’t have to open your throat?” The duke seemed faintly relieved, but his panic returned when his chest seized up and his breathing stopped.

“A lot of men died because of you, Lustral,” said Will, leaning over his former second-in-command. “I still don’t know if my cousin survived your treacherous games, but either way, I can’t afford to allow you to give away my plan before morning.” Lustral’s face was almost purple now.

Will patted the bandage wrapped around the field marshal’s head. “The funny thing about head wounds, as any doctor or nurse will tell you, is that they’re sneaky. Sometimes people can die from a minor blow. Other times they’re fine, but most scary of all, sometimes they seem fine, then die hours or even days later. It seems that you turned out to be one of those.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t be remembered as a traitor, mainly because that would be inconvenient. People might wonder about the circumstances of your death then. No, I’ll see to it that your legacy is that of an incompetent and ultimately tragic leader who failed to become a hero. When they tell the tale, people won’t cry much for you, not like they will for Lord Spry, who truly did his duty.” Will watched the light fade from the nobleman’s eyes, though he felt little satisfaction.

He didn’t take that as a reassuring sign of humanity, however. Will had seen enough revenge and retribution to know it never brought any real satisfaction, only emptiness, and he’d known that before executing Lustral. What really worried him was the fact that what he had done only bothered him a little. His stomach felt unsteady, and he had a faint sense of guilt, but that was it.

He wasn’t going to lose any sleep. I’m more like my enemies with every day that passes, he noted. But a more cynical voice in his head replied, but at least I’m alive and they aren’t.

It wasn’t a justification. He just didn’t give enough of a damn to let it bother him. Not then. Maybe he would agonize over it later—maybe. Will stared at Felix Lustral’s body for a minute, his mind blank, and then he rushed to the tent’s door. “I need some help here! The field marshal has collapsed.”

Half an hour later, the late-duke’s body was carried out on a stretcher while Sub-Marshal Nicht and a host of junior officers looked on. Once he was gone Fulstrom ordered the others out so he could speak to Will alone. Will was surprised at the man’s courage. He wasn’t sure he would have wanted to be alone with himself if he was in the other man’s position.

“I won’t miss him,” said Fulstrom honestly, “but there will be rumors.”

“Rumors I’ve gotten used to,” said Will dismissively. “Only the truth is important.” His cynical tone belied his point.

The sub-marshal met his eyes, then looked away before asking, “And what is the truth today, sir?”

“The field marshal was a tragic soul. A man who tried to do his duty but consistently chose poorly. Despite his good intentions, First Division was nearly wiped out, and Third suffered greatly as well. Thank goodness Sub-Marshal Spry was there to save the day, or none of you would have survived,” said Will in a falsely sentimental tone.

“I don’t think the field marshal had good intentions, sir.”

Will nodded, but responded differently, “Let’s not speak ill of the dead, Sub-marshal. We have a war yet to win.”

Fulstrom didn’t hide his despondence. “Can we win, sir? There’s a large force on our heels and we’re facing an ambush if we continue to retreat.”

Will tried to be honest, “I don’t know, but I have hope. Who leads the Third since Spry fell?”

“Subcommander Terrell.”

“Call him in here so we can lay out our plan for the morning,” said Will.

***

Will sat in his own tent, trying to relax. He had kept the meeting short, since he had only a rudimentary plan to discuss anyway. They would be rising early, but they wouldn’t be marching until Will saw signs that the time was right.

Assuming Janice had done her part and that the Second and Sixth managed to execute properly, he wouldn’t be able to order the First and Third to move until sometime after noon. That was less than ideal, and no one expected the Darrowans to sit around with their thumbs up their asses. They’d be pressing forward to drive the Terabinians into the Shimeran ambush.

Will spent a few minutes in the astral plane watching his friend. Tiny was sitting in what appeared to be a small copse of trees with no fire. There wasn’t much to see, so Will moved on to Janice. He was encouraged to see she looked exhausted, but she was still mounted. Most importantly, she was not alone. There was an army around her. The Second and Sixth were marching through the night.

They’d be exhausted tomorrow, but they would be there.

Last of all, he peeked in on Selene. Though it was late, she wasn’t in bed. Instead, she sat in the front parlor, still dressed, as though she had been entertaining guests. She was alone, however, and Will was struck by the desire to put his arms around her. He knew she was suffering with the fear that she might never be able to use magic again in any meaningful way, and what made it worse was that he was off at war, the very time when she wished she could be of greatest use to him.

For his own part, Will felt useless that he wasn’t home with her instead. The war was enormously important, but it felt contrived. It needn’t have happened at all, if Lognion hadn’t insisted on invading.

It had been more than a week since he had used the heart-stone enchantment to contact her directly. He’d avoided using it because it tired her so quickly, but he decided tonight would be the exception. No telling what tomorrow will bring.

Returning to his body, he activated the enchantment and saw her face appear before him. The light in her eyes when she saw him in return was all the reward he could have wanted. “I love you,” he said quickly.

“And I you,” she replied. “Are you well? What’s happening?”

Will’s words rushed out in a tumble, since he didn’t want to waste time. “Klendon and Maldon are ours. I’m trying to coordinate everything to push on to Myrsta next.” It was technically true, but his explanation left out all the adrenaline-inducing details.

“You’re leaving out a lot,” she accused.

He smiled and nodded. “I am. I know how much this wears you out. I just wanted to give you the rough outline and let you know I’m well and thinking about you.” He could already see sweat beading up as her face lost its color. “Good night, love.”

“I love you!” she quickly blurted out before he cut the connection between them.

Will stared up at the ceiling of his tent for a short while. I’m going to be in a bit of trouble with her when she finds out all the details. Assuming I survive, he thought. He closed his eyes, doubting he would sleep easily, but two days of deprivation had a different opinion on the matter. The world vanished, and his breathing evened out as he fell into a dreamless slumber.

Chapter 45

Will woke in the small hours of the morning, and though he still had another hour before he’d asked to be awakened, he couldn’t fall back asleep, for an idea had come to him. He kept turning it over in his head, unsure if it would work. It was similar to things he’d done in the past, yet different enough that he felt a little uncertain of his ability.

And even if it works, will it be enough to buy us half a day or more? He couldn’t be sure. “And would it be better to start early or late?” he muttered to himself. Early would spoil the Darrowans’ rest, but it might also encourage them to move sooner, rather than later.

He forced himself to think it through. “What would I do if I was their commander in that situation?” I’d send out scouts in every direction and wait for reports before blundering into something foolish, he thought, answering himself.

“The next question,” he said aloud, “is what would I expect to see from this camp that would confirm my suspicion?” A slow grin spread across his face, before quickly fading into a frown. The enemy could misunderstand, or come to a different conclusion, or worse, they might decide an immediate attack was the best solution for the dilemma he presented them with.

If they did attack, they’d discover his threat to be nothing more than a paper tiger. He agonized over it for half an hour before deciding it was the only plan he had, so it was that or nothing. Then he activated the limnthal and spoke to his ring. “Are you awake?” he asked in a hushed and somber tone.

Arrogan replied in the same tone, “Are you stupid? I’m awake whenever you activate the limnthal and speak to me.”

Will fought to keep from smiling, though it hardly mattered, then he updated his mentor on the situation and explained his plan. “What do you think?”

“It’s as likely to work as it is to go tits up,” replied his grandfather. “You need another card to play when it starts falling apart.”

“I don’t have anything else.”

A malicious chuckle emerged from the ring. “I’m pretty sure you do.”

Desperate for hope, Will immediately latched on to the hint. “What is it?”

“No idea,” said Arrogan with complete sincerity. “But from what you’ve said, your new talent has matured. If you can imagine using it the way you suggested, then there are probably several other ways it could be used if things get truly bad.”

Will rubbed his eyes to clear them of sleep. “It would be nice if you just gave me a neat solution rather than a nebulous bunch of dung.”

Arrogan growled, then paused. “Fine. I really don’t know, but I do have some practical advice. What was the biggest limiting factor when you used your talent in the past?”

He sighed. “Obviously the fact that it’s just sound. Lightning or mountain moving would be a lot better—something destructive or defensive.”

“You destroyed a gate already. Your talent seems plenty destructive to me,” said the old man.

“That took time, and from what I could tell it wouldn’t work on an open field with a large array of different things. I’d need to get close and focus on one thing at a time.”

“Describe what you mean,” said Arrogan.

Will tried. “I could probably break a boulder, or a building, but I think it has to all be made of the same thing, like stone or wood. It probably also helps if it’s relatively rigid, but I’m not sure. It might work on a person too, but either way, I’d need to be close to them. There’s no way I could do that to an army at a distance.”

“I see what you mean.”

“So, I’m stuck with my original plan,” said Will.

“Don’t be so gloomy. Inspiration will strike when it’s needed. You know what they say, desperation is the mother of annihilation.”

Will chuckled. “I think you got it wrong. The saying goes ‘necessity is the mother of invention.’”

“Yeah. That works too. Doesn’t roll off the tongue as smoothly, though.”

“I guess I’d better get up and get moving,” said Will reluctantly.

Arrogan wasn’t quite done, though. “Wait. You didn’t quite get it right when I asked my question about limitations a minute ago. A better answer would be that the limiting factor is the amount of available turyn.”

“I can only absorb so much.”

“Not yours, idiot. Remember what you said about casting your voice across an entire city? You didn’t do that with your personal turyn.”

“Oh.” Will thought about it for a moment. “But I don’t have any control over the amount of ambient turyn in the environment. It varies somewhat, but it seems mostly random within a certain range.”

“Surely you’ve fought some enemy sorcerers by now?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“What was the thing that scared you most?”

Will was truly confused. “Dying?”

The ring let out a sigh of long-suffering. “And what did you think would kill you?”

“The enemy?”

“Gah! It’s going to be me if you don’t start answering properly! How did you think they could kill you? What was the biggest threat to your immediate wellbeing?”

“At Maldon it was probably someone dropping a big rock on my head. Of course, I did that for them in the end.”

“Exactly.”

Will felt he’d been doing well for a while, but now he seemed to have completely missed the point. “I don’t follow you.”

“You weren’t scared of their magic. Remember how I died?”

That was a particularly traumatic memory for Will. “How could I forget? You were shot with a crossbow.”

“Now you know what to be afraid of, but more importantly, you should also know what you never need fear again. Right?”

“What’s that?”

“Magic, you clod-headed-dolt!”

“Ahh.” Will turned the idea over in his head a few times then replied, “That master vampire wizard nearly turned me inside out.”

“With magic?”

Now that he thought about it, no. Alexander had made himself largely immune to Will’s attacks and then relied on his superior strength and speed to mangle him. “I guess not.”

“Now you’re starting to see the light. You’ve come into your power. You still have some maturing and a lot of growth ahead, but the one thing you really shouldn’t ever have to fear is magic.”

He frowned. “Not even if I meet a stronger wizard?”

“You already did,” pointed out his grandfather. “You could be outmaneuvered or tricked, but other than a force spell from behind, no one is going to be able to kill you with magic.”

That made some sense to him. A force spell couldn’t be manipulated or stolen by an opposing caster, since it was in some way an extension of one’s self. Other magic users would have varying degrees of control over magic as the distance increased from their bodies, but unless they were insanely strong, Will would almost certainly have greater control over any turyn close to his body.

“Unless they use their magic to smash my head open with a rock,” suggested Will.

“That sort of falls into the earlier category, crossbows and such,” said Arrogan. “I’m talking about pure magic.”

Something else occurred to him. “What about a demon-lord?”

“Pardon?”

“The goddamn cat told me I might have a demon-lord to deal with later. Does what you said hold true of them too?”

Arrogan went silent for a bit, then replied, “You’re a wizard. Magic belongs to you. Sorcerers, warlocks, demons, I don’t care who they are or what they are, they’re merely dabbling, borrowing powers that they don’t truly own. Don’t forget that. Now, a demon-lord, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I doubt one could hurt you directly with magic, but most of them have been alive for eons. He’s going to have the edge, in control and will. Add to that the fact that his turyn reserves are similar to those of a mountain, that they regenerate from nearly any wound, and that they’re stronger than a troll…”

“That doesn’t sound very encouraging.”

“You might be able to spit in his eye before he rips your heart out and eats it, but look on the bright side. He’ll probably have to use his actual hands to do it, rather than a spell.”

Will blanched at the thought. “So what do you recommend?”

“Avoid them like the plague. You did well with that one before, but unless you’ve got a being on your side who can fight one of them evenly, like the goddamn cat—you should run.”

He thought about the ethereal spell he had learned. “If I had to hide, would slipping into the ethereal work?”

“For a second maybe. They can’t cross into our world without help, but they’re masters of manipulating the proximal planes,” said Arrogan.

“Proximal planes?”

“Mainly the ethereal, and in some circumstances the astral. There’s only one astral plane, remember, but every primary plane like ours has its own complementary ethereal plane. Some demons can slip back and forth between the plane they are on and the proximal ethereal almost as easily as you and I breathe air. A demon-lord is almost guaranteed to be proficient at moving to and from the ethereal plane.”

Someone entered the tent to wake him up, so Will dismissed the limnthal and rose from his cot. It was time to get started.

Chapter 46

Fulstrom almost balked when Will explained that he needed the men to form up in preparation to face the Darrowans that had been pushing them for the past two days. “Did I mishear?” asked the sub-marshal.

Will shook his head. “No, I’m genuinely crazy.” He stopped there and enjoyed the spectacle of the young lord trying to decide how to respond. Lustral’s fate was probably still fresh on the officer’s mind. After a second, he took pity and explained, “We’re not actually going to fight them. It’s just a show for their scouts.”

The sub-marshal nodded. “So, what are we going to do?”

“Let’s get Subcommander Terrell over here, as well as the junior officers. Most of it will be simply waiting, but when we do spring into action, we are going to need considerable coordination.”

After that, Will found a few minutes of privacy to check on Janice and Tiny once again. Janice and the relief forces were still on the move, while Tiny was still in the same place. Studying the ground in front of his friend, Will could see that it had been scraped clear of leaves and debris. In relatively clear letters, Tiny had written a short note in the dirt, “I think I might have been wrong.”

“Damn right you were,” muttered Will when he had returned to his body. Pushing that thought aside, he considered what he’d seen of Janice’s whereabouts. He hadn’t exactly memorized the road while they traveled, but if she was in the area he thought she was, then the relief would arrive sometime in the early afternoon. They might not be as early as he had hoped, but they would be there.

He stretched and stepped outside, then walked to the edge of camp. It was time to get to work. He discovered his first problem almost immediately. The road to the east rose and fell, limiting the distance he could see. The enemy still wasn’t visible, though they had camped barely two miles away. Technically his magic would work anyway, but he preferred to have a clear mental picture of the area he was affecting.

The sky had brightened, though the sun was still beneath the horizon. The early scouts had reported no movement yet, so his plan was probably still viable. Will constructed an elemental travel-disk and lifted himself as high as he could manage to get a better view.

The spell wasn’t meant for flying, so he could only lift himself around ten yards above the ground, but that was enough to give him the view he needed. The Darrowans appeared to be forming up already, though they hadn’t moved yet.

“We’ll see what they do when they realize that our reserves are already behind them,” said Will softly. Sifting through the memories of his days in the army, he found the sounds he wanted: men on the move, their voices rough and ready as they cajoled one another, horns in the distance, the stomping of thousands of feet, and the creak of leather and metal harnesses. He gathered those sounds within his mind and then he sent them out to ride the currents. The enemy is behind you, thought Will, as he brought the ambient turyn under his control.

The sounds were clear enough that they carried all the way back to the Terabinian camp, and Will saw the men looking at one another with questions in their eyes, wondering what was happening. He watched the Darrowans, and though nothing happened at first, after a minute they began sounding horns. The forward line broke apart as units were ordered to take different positions.

Will smiled. He felt sure that would cost them an hour or two, and possibly much more. The enemy commander would doubtless be sending new scouts out in every direction. The Darrowans would need to confirm that the Terabinians were still where they were supposed to be, and that an unforeseen force hadn’t snuck up behind them.

He kept up the phantom army sounds for half an hour before resting. He’d felt some strain, but even though the wild magic had involved relatively vast amounts of environmental turyn, Will was only modestly fatigued. Given fifteen or twenty minutes to recuperate, and he thought he would be close to his optimum strength again. Again, it wasn’t a direct drain on his personal turyn. That was the limiting factor for sorcerers, their elementals, and most other magic users. For him it was mainly the exercise of his will, and the fatigue it produced was purely mental, the same sort of fatigue one might feel after studying for hours.

It was no less real, though. He knew that from his two previous experiences when he’d injured his will by overdoing things. His will was a lot stronger these days, however, and he didn’t feel as though he’d pushed himself very much yet.

The morning passed with agonizing slowness. While the soldiers pretended to be readying for war, they mainly rested in place. Every hour Will took a break to check on the progress and location of his friends, and whenever the enemy looked to be preparing again to advance on them, he would start another round of phantom sounds to disturb them once more.

He was certain it had to be absolutely nerve-wracking for the enemy commander. As soon as they’d gotten an all-clear back from their scouts, Will would begin a new set of entirely too realistic noises to convince them they were being flanked.

As the morning stretched out, word passed along the line, as the officers explained to the men exactly what was happening. They could hear the sounds too, and obviously it wasn’t in anyone’s best interest if Will’s deceptive noises rattled the Terabinian soldiers as well.

The explanation had an unexpected effect, though. First and Third Divisions had been on the run for two days and their morale had suffered badly, but now they could audibly hear what Will was doing to the enemy. Their imaginations were captured as they thought about the nervousness and uncertainty that must be afflicting those who had harried them. During Will’s third round of deception, the Terabinian soldiers responded with a guttural war chant. It wasn’t a formal song or chant with words, merely a primal ‘hu-hu-hu,’ followed by a stomping of feet.

Inspired, Will copied them and soon his illusory army was engaged in a call and response with the real, living and breathing Terabinians that stood beside him. The poor Darrowans caught in the middle of it were probably sweating buckets by then. Their formation had tightened into two defensive lines, on either side, defending against both their real foes and the ones they couldn’t see.

Midday came and went, and Will began to wish he had some way to truly hurt the enemy. He was getting an ever better feel for what he could and couldn’t do as he repeated his tactics over and over. Creating sounds that would be painful or deafening was definitely possible, but he simply didn’t have the concentrated turyn necessary to do so. His own personal energies were a tiny drop in the bucket compared to what lay in the air and ground around them, but that turyn was too diffuse, too spread out, to be used offensively.

Despite what Arrogan had said, he didn’t think there was a practical way to make his talent destructive. But obviously it has a lot of potential as a distraction, he admitted silently.

Eventually the Darrowans decided to ignore the sounds, and as they reordered their lines, Will did one last check on Janice and Tiny. Tiny was no longer where he had been. Instead, he was standing by Captain Barrentine, as the knight looked over Thunderturnip. Janice appeared to be with Emory and Bug, giving instructions to a gathering of the sorcerer-soldiers.

Will returned to his own body, wishing he could send his voice far enough to signal his friends. They were roughly twice as far away as his simulated army had been, a distance of six or seven miles. Although he thought the distance might be doable, he had no way of targeting them closely.

He’d just have to make sure they heard something when the time came. That time appeared to be just minutes away. Will turned to Subcommander Terrell and nodded. “Give the orders.”

Seconds later, horns sounded, and sergeants began yelling up and down the line. The men of First and Third Divisions straightened up, then abruptly turned to face right. In mere seconds, the long shield wall facing the Darrowans transformed into part of a column marching directly south, perpendicular to the direction their foes would be approaching from. Though the Darrowan units were also beginning to move, they still had more than half a mile of ground to cover.

Will’s army marched into the rougher terrain to the south of the road, not because they thought they could avoid the enemy, but rather because he knew the Shimerans were planning to hit them from the south if they simply followed the road west. By marching into the semi-wooded area, they could turn east after a short march and come directly at the mercenaries who were planning to ambush them.

If things went to plan, then the Second and Sixth would be moving along a similar course to meet them—with the Shimerans caught in between. Will made a small effort to amplify the sound of their horns, alerting their allies, and probably the Shimerans as well.

Of course, the fly in the ointment was the large Darrowan army following them. Timing would be key; otherwise, they’d be the ones being ground down in the middle, rather than the reverse. Will briefly tried another round of auditory distractions, but the Darrowans continued to head straight for them, shifting to march on a diagonal to adjust for the Terabinians’ new route.

They won’t be able to close on us quickly enough, unless they switch to a charge. At least that’s what Will hoped. A half mile was too far for a sensible charge. The enemy would risk losing cohesion and organization. The Terabinians could easily close ranks, and turn to face them in tight formation. It might still be a win for the Darrowans, but it would be a costly one, even if the mercenaries then moved up to attack their flanks. They won’t risk it, Will reassured himself. We aren’t following their plan, but as long as we keep moving toward the Shimerans, they know we face disaster. They’ll wait, so they can spring the trap when it’s most effective.

They finished their southerly march and then switched formation again, turning to face eastward. The shield men moved through the other lines, and the spearmen, skirmishers, and reserves fell into position behind them. Horns blew and orders rang out, “First and Third, double-time march! Shields up, spears at the ready!”

Will couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the precision and cohesion of their lines. The soldiers of the First had recently taken a terrible beating. Nearly half their number were gone, as many of those with non-fatal wounds had been lost while fighting to escape the Darrowans. The Third was in better shape, but their losses would still be considered a devastating blow in any normal world.

They’d been to hell and back, and now they were quick stepping through brambles and small trees to meet those who had meant to ambush them face-to-face. As he saw it all, Will’s heart surged in his chest and he couldn’t help but encourage them. Lifting his head to the sky, he sang out loudly, letting his magic carry the words out for all the world to hear, “March for glory, brothers! Live or die, we’ll make sure they never forget we were here!”

A shout echoed back from the lines, and the Terabinians began moving even faster, though they remained in step and in line. Will held out some hope that an answering shout might come from ahead, a response from the Second and Sixth, but his ear heard nothing in that direction. Even the Shimerans remained hidden, crouched in a low region where the ground dipped slightly. They wouldn’t be able to remain hidden, for they would be easily spotted at a hundred yards or so, but it was enough to be devastating for an unsuspecting opponent. Will hoped they didn’t realize their position was actually known.

As they marched, breaks occurred here and there, when trees or other obstacles intervened, but they quickly closed as soon as the soldiers passed them. Looking over his shoulder, Will could see that the Darrowan divisions had sped up considerably. As he watched, they went from a similar pace to an outright charge, trying to close the distance just before Will and his soldiers ran up against the unseen Shimerans.

He grinned. They were too late. There was still a third of a mile between them.

And then things went to shit, as another demon-fueled illusion dissipated, and Will saw what really lay in front of them.

A line of heavily armored men rose up from the tall grass, less than thirty yards ahead of the Terabinian line. The Shimerans had shifted their position during the night. Will’s mind shot into high gear as the world seemed to slow around him.

They’d make contact in ten seconds, maybe less. Adding in the change in location, the Second and Sixth were probably several minutes farther away than he’d hoped, and there was still no sign of them in the distance. Meanwhile, the Darrowans were about two minutes away from chewing into their flanks.

He’d planned on sending the skirmishers back to make a quick feint at the Darrowans, forcing them to slow temporarily, but that wouldn’t be nearly enough of a delay now. They could still handle the chaotic Shimeran heavy infantry, but only if they didn’t have to fight on two sides.

“Shields up, enemy to the front! Brace for it! Skirmishers, stay close; sorcerers, force-walls to the rear!” The orders tumbled out of his mouth in quick succession. They weren’t orders Will was meant to give. They were orders for sergeants and junior officers to relay after receiving the proper signals, but there was no time for that. Turyn shifted and shimmered as far as the eye of a mage could see, and Will’s commands reached every ear, friend or foe.

And the men of Terabinia took heed. They pushed forward while their sorcerers cast a long line of force-walls behind them to block the advance of the Darrowan army.

But the Shimeran priest also heard his orders. Seeing, and hearing, that the Terabinians were devoting their magical assets and defenses to the rear, they took it as a lucky sign. Will felt his skin tingle as power gathered, and a split second later, black flames exploded from multiple points along the Shimeran line, racing to engulf the front line of the Terabinian army.

The two forces were still ten yards apart, and Will knew all too well how devastating void-fire could be. Not only did it burn, like its opposite, elemental fire, but it was poisonous to living creatures. The smallest of burns guaranteed a slow, painful death.

Arrogan had spoken to him before, about shifting turyn and altering currents, causing enemy casters to miss their targets, but this was too close, too immediate. He could also absorb the flames closest to him, saving ten or twenty, but the rest would be devastated.

“—the limiting factor is the amount of available turyn.” Those had been Arrogan’s words, though Will didn’t consciously remember them. There was no time. He simply reacted. His will stretched out like lightning, encompassing the entire field, and the enemy’s void-fire became his. There was no time to control it, divert it, or use it for a spell—Will could only do what came naturally.

What happened next was difficult to describe, and those present argued for years over what they’d witnessed—those that survived it, anyway. The black flames vanished and a sound so great that it seemed to indicate the breaking of the world rang out, and that sound was merely the echo of a far greater noise that was directed purely toward the Shimerans.

The mercenaries who were several feet back from the front line survived, though most of them fell to the ground screaming and clawing at eyes and ears that now streamed blood. The heavily armored infantry that made up the front line died instantly, not from the sound, but from a flash freeze as the air, their armor, and their flesh went from ordinary temperatures to inconceivably cold. The sound that struck them a fraction of an instant after the freeze merely served to shatter their frozen—already dead—bodies.

The Shimerans were thrown into utter confusion, and the mildly stunned warriors from Terabinia stared in dumb silence as their minds struggled to make sense of what their eyes and ears had just reported. Even the Darrowans behind them, safely distant and still held at bay by a line of force-walls, stopped and stood still in shock.

As any who had served would have expected, it was one of the Terabinian sergeants, a veteran of war and chaos, who reacted first. “For blood and glory!” the old veteran shouted, and other sergeants and some of the soldiers up and down the line repeated his call. The Terabinian soldiers snapped out of their stupor and resumed their advance.

Unfortunately for the Shimeran mercenaries, they needed a bit more time—a month might have been enough. The shield wall slammed into the few who were on their feet, and spears tore into their stunned and deafened ranks. What ensued over the next minute was the most one-sided and brutal slaughter that Will had ever seen. The Terabinians ripped through the remaining infantry and began killing the enemy crossbowmen faster than the Shimerans could regain their senses and run.

And for those few who did manage to run, they met the Second and Sixth, who had just begun to emerge from the lowland area behind them. If any of them survived, they could only have hidden so well that no one spotted them. From what Will could see, they were exterminated down to the last man.

A few of the priests’ demon familiars had survived Will’s attack, but they turned out to be just as helpless ordinary men when faced by an army of angry soldiers with sharp weapons. One or two fought and died, unable to regenerate fast enough, and the others vanished, retreating from the human plane.

The First and Third continued forward without pausing, and as they came face-to-face with their brothers-in-arms, the Second and Sixth made space for them to pass through. Will’s sorcerers had already released the force-walls protecting their rear, and as the Darrowan army moved up to catch them from behind, they found instead the determined ranks of Commander Lambel and Commander Hargast’s Second and Sixth Divisions.

It was a fairly even match in numbers for the two divisions, but the First and Third were still on the field. After they had passed through the lines, Will began the last part of his plan. Motioning to the signal man beside him, he listened as the horns sounded and the sergeants began shouting the predetermined orders.

The First executed a wheel maneuver to the left, while the Third wheeled to the right. Then they marched out and around, swinging around in two massive wings to wrap the Darrowan lines. All told, the four divisions only outnumbered the enemy by a factor of perhaps three to two, because of their prior losses, but the Darrowans were wholly unprepared for the maneuver.

It wasn’t as bad as the massacre of the Shimerans, but it was clear which side would claim victory—eventually. The Terabinians were rolling up the ends of the Darrowan line. They were sure to win, but if the Darrowans didn’t surrender, or rout, the cost of finishing them could still be extreme. It might even be enough to force an end to the war, if Lognion’s army no longer had enough men to attempt the capital.

Fifteen minutes into the battle and Will had seen enough, and he hoped that the enemy felt the same. His voice shattered the air, cutting through even the cacophony of the pitched battle. “Hold and stand down! This fight is done!” A cold wind blew across the battlefield as his words faded away.

Most paused, surprised again by the clarity of his voice. Some continued to fight, but Will repeated his command, and seconds later, the battle grew still. A strangely loud silence grew in place of the violence of a moment before. “The battle is won. Surrender and you may return to your homes and families in peace. Our war isn’t against the people of Darrow, but rather against its ruler. The Patriarch will be thrown down and his demon-loving mercenaries cast out.”

A few of the enemy officers shouted for their men to resume fighting, but no one obeyed, and one suffered dramatically as one of his closest sergeants clubbed him to the ground. Some of the other officers dropped their weapons, calling for a surrender, and one by one, the Darrowans threw down their swords and spears. Seconds later, they began sitting and kneeling, both as a sign of surrender, and simply because the fighting had been exhausting.

One man remained on his feet near the center, a tall officer in polished steel and a plumed helm. Slowly, he picked his way through the surrendering soldiers and stopped in front of them. Will did likewise, though he was flanked by an escort of armed soldiers. They stopped when there was ten feet left between them.

The Darrowan commander was a handsome man by any reckoning, with dark hair and a short beard groomed into aggressive lines. He held a sheathed sword in front of him, and as he met Will’s eyes, he tossed it at his feet. “I am Marshal Aaron Gravholt, leader of the Prophet’s Army and commander of these men. Do as you must with me, but I ask for mercy on behalf of my men.”

Will felt a sense of kinship immediately. Would I look as dignified if our roles were reversed? He doubted it, but he hoped he would at least act in the same manner. Keeping his face blank, he asked, “And if I tell you that King Lognion demands the heads of all the Patriarch’s officers, would you still ask for mercy only for your soldiers?”

Marshal Gravholt never flinched. “I would gladly give my life in exchange for theirs.”

“And what of the Patriarch? Your surrender puts him in jeopardy.”

The Darrowan’s face showed obvious disgust. “I’ve done my duty and fulfilled the oaths of service I gave. Sacrificing these men after the battle is lost serves no one, and now that I have been forced to submit, I will readily admit that my only regret is that I cannot live to see you remove the Patriarch’s head from his shoulders and toss his stinking priests into the gutters.”

Will turned to Sub-Marshal Nicht, who was closest to him. “We’ll return to the crossroad to make camp. Take this man prisoner but treat him gently and with honor. Gather their weapons and take the enemy soldiers into custody. Tomorrow we will begin allowing them to disperse.” Then he turned his gaze to the defeated commander. “Rest easy, Marshal Gravholt. I have nothing but respect for those who put the needs of those they lead above their own. The world cannot afford to lose people like you, and I would not ask for a pointless sacrifice.”

The Darrowan leader seemed faintly surprised, but he kept his reaction calm. “Thank you for your mercy.”

Will allowed a faint smile to show. “I forgot to introduce myself. William Cartwright, Royal Marshal and leader of the Terabinian army. We’ll talk more later.”

The Darrowan leader nodded. “I already knew who you were. Your reputation precedes you, else I wouldn’t have risked surrendering my soldiers’ lives into your hands.”

Chapter 47

He would have loved to rest after that, but the life of a leader didn’t allow for such luxuries. Physically, Will was fine, and he’d gotten some rest the night before, but he was inordinately tired. Decisions needed to be made, however, and his was the final say on a vast selection of topics.

First, he had a happy reunion with his assistant, Lieutenant Renly, who commemorated the moment by promptly allowing any and all who had a question in to see him, one by one. Where should the prisoners be kept? Should they be separated into small groups or kept together? Would it be a full camp or a cold camp? When would the next officers’ meeting be? How long would they remain in their current location?

Renly saw to it that every officer reached him and then arranged the small meetings that were required to handle more complicated issues—and he dragged Will into every one of them—the bastard. Will dreamt of revenge, but deep down he knew he had learned his lesson. Don’t take your anger out on those who serve you, especially not a militant bureaucrat.

Messengers were sent to Klendon and Maldon to update them on the current state of affairs and to make sure the supplies they needed would keep flowing to the right places. The wounded were treated when possible, and those who were too bad to continue were sent back to Klendon.

Recovering and reorganizing after the losses they had incurred would take days, but many of the important decisions regarding those days had to be made immediately. It was long past midnight before Will was finally allowed to lie down and close his eyes, and he had still not had time to see either Janice or Tiny.

And he hadn’t yet dared to ask about his cousin, Eric. That question sat shuttered away in a dark corner of his heart, a place he dared not look.

The next morning, he met with the Darrowan marshal and offered him a job leading Darrowan recruits, assuming they had any. The man seemed surprised by the subject. “Excuse me?”

“You told me you hated the Patriarch and the Church of the Prophet,” said Will.

Gravholt closed his mouth, then made a diplomatic reply a moment later, “I was overwrought yesterday.”

“You were truthful,” argued Will. “I’ve already interviewed some of your men—”

“You said they would be unharmed,” interrupted the defeated commander, his cheeks flushing with anger.

Will held up his hands in a gesture for peace. “I thought you said my reputation had preceded me. We didn’t torture them, or even compel them to answer.”

Gravholt visibly relaxed. “Oh.”

“From what I could tell, it appears that the Patriarch’s decision to accept help from the Shimerans is extremely unpopular.”

The Darrowan nodded. “It’s worse than that.”

“How much worse?”

“There are rumors of blood rituals and sacrifices to pay for the help of their demons,” answered Gravholt.

Will leaned forward. “Have you seen such things?”

The other man shook his head. “Not personally, but there are a variety of stories passing around among my people.”

Will continued asking questions, quizzing the man on everything from vampires to the mood of the populace. In general, his answers fit with what he’d already learned. The vampires that had been working with the Darrowans were probably few and far between, and even Aaron Gravholt had no knowledge of their involvement. The general populace had heard a lot regarding the Shimerans and their presence in the country, and most weren’t happy about it.

While the Church of the Prophet didn’t seem to enjoy much popularity, it had originally been formed in a time when Darrow had just recovered from a dangerous time that revolved largely around Shimera and its demon cult. Historically, neither the Terabinians or the Darrowans were fond of Shimera, much less the Church of the Iron Fist, which revered the demon-lord Madrok.

Once he was satisfied, Will repeated his offer. “Join us. Lead your men in defense of Darrow.”

Gravholt laughed. “Isn’t that what I was just doing yesterday?”

Will’s face remained serious. “You know it wasn’t, but I’m offering you the chance.”

“What makes you think your King Lognion is any better than the Patriarch?”

Will shrugged in response. “He isn’t, not in a moral sense. From what I’ve learned he’s evil, uncaring, and possibly mad.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?”

Will continued, “But he knows that his power rests on the people and their prosperity. Privately, he’s sadistic and cruel, but he operates his government on the principle that happy people create a strong, wealthy nation.”

The Darrowan’s eyes grew wide. “And he allows you to speak this way about him and live?”

He nodded. “I’ve refused to even swear fealty to him.”

Gravholt shook his head in disbelief. “Yet he let you marry his daughter and command his army.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s planning to kill me at the first opportunity.”

The Darrowan leader sat quietly for a bit, then asked, “Do I have to swear fealty to your king?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned, though you might later, if you meet him.”

“I’ll swear to you instead,” said Gravholt, and before Will could protest, the man proceeded to do so.

It took him a minute to remember the appropriate responses, even though he’d been through it just a few months prior, but he managed somehow. He’d rarely felt so awkward.

After that, the Darrowan marshal, now a subcommander, left to present the offer to his countrymen. Two-thirds declined and opted to return to their homes, but the rest accepted, enough to fill out two slim regiments, or a little more than half a division.

Naturally, the other senior officers thought he’d lost his mind, but Will reminded them of his driving principle during every argument. “We’re not here to conquer, but to unite. To do that, we depose the Patriarch, eliminate the Church of the Prophet, and win over the support of the people. In case you were wondering, the last piece of that is the most important part. Subcommander Gravholt and the new First Darrowan Division are steps in that direction.”

They didn’t like it, but Will refused to change his mind, and without Lustral to complain unceasingly about it, they eventually quit arguing. Or perhaps because of Lustral’s sudden death they were more motivated to agree. Will couldn’t be sure either way, nor did he want to know. The thought that he might be inadvertently intimidating his officers was uncomfortable for him to consider.

Once the meeting was over, he called for Burke Leighton. By the time the lieutenant sorcerer arrived, he had finished writing out a set of orders. He handed them to Bug. “I have a task for you.”

Bug looked at the papers, then his eyes widened. “Are you sure, sir?”

Will nodded. “Afterward, report directly to me, no one else. Don’t show your orders to anyone unless you need to prove that I’ve authorized your actions. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Bug left shortly after that.

That evening, when things finally seemed to slow down for Will, such that he might get some time to rest or perhaps meet Janice and Tiny, Renly stepped in to announce yet another officer had arrived. “Captain Veness would like a word with you, sir.”

Will was sorely tempted to refuse, but he knew he had a duty to those he commanded, and it was probably important to someone. He waited impatiently as Captain Veness entered, then asked, “Which division are you with, Captain? I’m extremely tired.”

The captain turned out to be relatively young, and he quickly saluted before answering, “Please forgive my interruption, Marshal Cartwright. I’m with the First—Third Regiment, First Brigade, Company D. I wouldn’t bother you, but you need to be informed, though the news is unpleasant.”

First, Third, First, D, thought Will, turning the designators over in his mind. Why does that sound so familiar? Then he remembered and his stomach sank. Holy Mother, please no! Unable to respond, he simply stared at Captain Veness.

Eventually the man continued, though he hadn’t been given express permission. “One of the sergeants under my command has your name, and I’ve been told you were his closest relative. He never really talked about it, but after consulting with Sub-Marshal Nicht, I’ve been told he was in fact your cousin—”

The room began to spin, and Will took a quick step back to sit down before his knees buckled. “You’re Eric’s commanding officer?”

The captain nodded. “I had that honor, sir. Eric was an exemplary soldier in every respect. You should—”

Will barely heard the rest of the sentence, as a horrible groaning sound rose up in his chest and pressed against the inside of his skull, blotting out the world in a moment of intense pain. When he opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see that Veness was still talking. Apparently, his inner torment had been silent. He held up one hand, while trying to keep his breathing even. “Could you repeat what you just said, Captain?”

The captain nodded. “I just wanted you to know that you should be proud. Sergeant Cartwright was one of the best men I’ve ever fought alongside. His bravery, integrity, and strength of character were of the sort that many aspire to, but few succeed at achieving.”

The pain in his chest was so intense that Will was certain that if he looked down, he would see his heart bleeding a river of blood onto the ground beneath his tent. Despite the sincerity of the captain’s words, they were almost unbearable. “When did it happen? How?” asked Will, cutting the man’s litany of virtues short.

The captain answered, and Will was shocked to learn that it had been several days ago, when the First had suffered their devastating defeat and taken massive casualties. Why hadn’t he checked sooner?

“—as everything went to hell and it looked as though everyone would rout, my company wound up directly between the oncoming press of the Darrowan assault and the wounded Field Marshal’s wagon. If Sergeant Cartwright and a few others hadn’t held the men together, they would have walked over us and would likely have killed the field marshal…”

The world had gone mad. Will stared at the captain, listening with ears gone numb. His cousin had died defending Duke Lustral’s unconscious body. The same man I murdered just a few days later. Eric had died defending a man he had despised, the same man who had probably put them in such a terrible position to begin with.

There was no justice.

His first thought was that he wished Lustral was still alive. Will wanted to kill him again, but this time in ways that would repay the bastard for the pain he now felt. Captain Veness was still talking, but Will wasn’t really listening. He could feel a scream beginning to bubble its way up through the center of his being. He cut the captain off, “If you’ll excuse me, Captain. I need some time.”

“Yes, of course, sir.” Captain Veness left, and Will was finally alone, but despite his pain, no tears came. He stared at the wall of the tent, and his mind’s eye showed him different things, visions of Eric mainly, but another face also appeared frequently—Sammy’s.

She’d already lost her younger brother and her mother. With Eric gone all she had left was her father and her aunt. And me, thought Will, the worthless cousin who sent her brother to die as a diversion.

Standing abruptly, Will strode quickly to the side table and picked up the wine there. Then he put it down again, afraid to drink it. A dark abyss was swirling in his heart, and he wasn’t sure what he might do if he lost control. He’d killed hundreds, maybe thousands just the day before, without even quite realizing what he was doing.

Lieutenant Renly entered without warning, and Will stared at him with haunted eyes. Before Will could respond, he said, “There were a few more waiting to see you, sir, but I’ve sent everyone away. I’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed any more tonight.”

He was gone again before Will said a word, and for the first time he thought he might not dislike his assistant quite as much as usual.

Chapter 48

It took forever for sleep to come. If he’d been able to cry, things would have been different, for tears always seemed to bring an emotional exhaustion that favored sleep. Dry eyes didn’t help, though. Instead, his pent-up emotions simply increased his irritation, anger, and sense of impending doom.

Maybe that was why people so often turned to drink during times of tragedy. Will finally drifted into fitful slumber sometime in the wee hours of the morning. He hoped Renly’s compassion would extend to a late morning wakeup, but that turned out to be a moot point.

“Please, Master!” said a strangely familiar male voice.

“Another word and I’ll unmake you. He’s obviously exhausted. Let him rest,” responded a different man, his voice smooth and strangely accented.

Will’s heart began to pound, bringing him fully awake, though he kept his eyes closed for the moment. Strangers were in his tent. Not only was the camp warded, but Will had warded his own tent separately with a ward that would alert him if anyone other than Lieutenant Renly entered.

The ward hadn’t alerted him, and although his eyes were closed, Will could still feel the faint, silent hum of the ward’s ambient turyn nearby. It was still intact and functioning. As far as Will knew, only a wizard of significant skill could bypass a ward without tripping it.

As far as Will knew, he was the only such wizard currently extant.

That’s not quite correct, though, he realized. He was the only human wizard of sufficient skill currently in existence. Aislinn was a wizard, though she was no longer human, and she was certainly capable of the feat. There were other possibilities, as well, though none were human and all were probably evil in the extreme, beings such as Alexander, the master vampire wizard he’d slain the year before.

“He’s awake,” said the first voice in a sibilant tone.

Will felt a sudden surge of turyn as a spell was released. Rolling off his cot, he opened his eyes while simultaneously activating an iron-body transformation he’d kept prepared. His eyes adjusted to see in the dim interior half a second later, and he spotted two male figures within the tent, one standing and the other writhing on the ground in silent torment. A spell he didn’t recognize was systematically ripping the man apart internally, while leaving his skin intact.

Acting immediately, Will sent a force-lance at the standing man’s torso, but it was met with a point-defense shield. Will continued the assault with a rapid-fire succession of similar attacks, while simultaneously gathering his turyn to release the other spell he’d kept ready. Without allowing his opponent time to do anything other than defend, he charged the spell and then released a wind-wall with enough power to destroy the tent and everything within fifteen feet of him.

The enemy wizard couldn’t block his force-lances and the elemental spell at the same time, so Will expected the man to either switch to a force-dome or be torn apart. Instead, the newcomer did neither. Will’s wind-wall expanded explosively, but it stopped less than a foot from his body, as the air beyond that seemed to be incredibly dense and nearly impossible to move.

No, I lost control of my turyn once the spell began to expand, he realized with a flash of insight. It was a similar effect to what he’d done to sorcerers in the past, though it had failed to stop his spell entirely. Still, it meant his foe had greater control of the turyn around them than he did.

Without missing a beat, Will shifted tactics, trying to use his new talent to convert the turyn of the spell killing the man on the ground into a sonic burst that would hopefully disrupt the unknown wizard’s concentration.

That attempt failed even more spectacularly. It wasn’t physical, but he could feel the other wizard’s will as an almost tangible force, locking all the turyn around them into place. Outside of force-spells and perhaps the foot or so of space closest to his body, Will was effectively helpless.

He summoned his rapier from the limnthal and used his third spell, a silver-sword enhancement. White flames erupted from the blade, and Will stepped forward to attack.

“I’m not here to fight,” said the stranger with his odd accent. “Give me a moment, and you may find that we are actually allies.”

Will paused, and then his eyes fell on the man dying at their feet. It was his old school friend, Rob. “Stop hurting him.”

The man’s face remained perfectly still, utterly lacking expression. “Are you certain? It might be a blessing if I release your friend from his blood curse.”

“Stop or we won’t be talking at all,” warned Will. He wondered whether anyone would hear if he shouted for help. With his talent suppressed, it was unlikely, especially if the other man had prepared for such an eventuality.

The stranger nodded, and the spell turning Rob’s insides into jelly vanished. Staring down at Rob, he admonished the young vampire, “I warned you not to say another word. Your friend just stopped me from erasing your miserable existence. Next time I won’t be so lenient.” When Rob tried to reply, nothing but black fluids escaped his lips, and the newcomer turned his nose up in disgust. “Finish healing before you speak to me, and even then, remain silent. I have no need to hear you beg.”

“Who are you?” asked Will.

The man seemed surprised. “I thought you’d recognize me. Most would in Darrow, since there are paintings in every church.”

Will waited impatiently.

The stranger sighed. “I am Alan Trent, the current Patriarch of Darrow. You didn’t even bother to look at one of my portraits before you invaded?”

“The Patriarch is human.”

The man laughed. “Very astute of you. How did you know that I am not human?”

“Because you’re obviously a wizard, and I’m the only living, breathing wizard left,” said Will.

The stranger blinked, the gesture oddly alien in a way Will couldn’t quite identify. “It’s true then, your master is dead?”

Will waited a second, then nodded slowly.

The man seemed genuinely sad. “Do you mind if I sit?” Without waiting, he took a seat in one of the folding chairs nearby. “That’s a shame. I liked Arrogan better than most of his contemporaries. He had true passion. There weren’t many like him, but then, there never are. Most are content with mediocrity.”

“Who are you?” Will asked, repeating his question.

“I already answered that. Why don’t you sit down?” The stranger pointed at one of the other chairs. “Your tense stance is distracting. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I don’t trust you,” said Will, then he added, “Arrogan never met the current Patriarch.”

The other man nodded. “That’s true, though he and I did meet once, though it was long before I took this identity. In fact, it was long before Darrow was split into two separate nations. You remind me of him, not your looks particularly, but your demeanor—angry and distrustful.”

Will glared at the man. “I prefer to talk to people when I know their names.”

“I doubt my name would mean anything to you. It was lost long ago, unless your teacher taught it to you, which I doubt. He would have preferred to leave me forgotten.”

“Try me.”

The other man smiled. “How about a test then? You just finished your schooling at Wurthaven, so you probably enjoy tests, no?” He glanced down at Rob, then asked, “Your poor wretch of a friend is my servant, not simply because of misfortune, but because I created his kind, though I am not one of them. Who am I?”

A cold chill passed over Will as he realized who was sitting in front of him. His lips formed the name before he could help himself. “Grim Talek.” The creator of the Drak’shar was a lich. Formerly human, in a time before current recorded history, Grim Talek was the only wizard known to have ever successfully transformed himself into the theoretically ultimate undead being. Not only was he virtually unkillable, but Aislinn and Arrogan together had once been forced to abandon their attempts to rid the world of him. Leaving aside the gods themselves—Temarah, the Mother, and Marduke, Lord of the Dead—there probably wasn’t another being more powerful than the lich within the world that Will could think of.

Or more perfectly evil.

“You really should sit down. Have some wine if you need. It would be much more relaxed. I tend to be easily irritated in tense situations, and I think you’d prefer not to irritate me, yes? If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”

Will glanced at Rob, who was staring up at him with wild eyes. He still appeared to be in considerable pain as his vampiric flesh tried to heal the extensive internal damage. Worse, he looked hungry, an inevitable consequence of such healing.

Not that Will was afraid of his friend, not so long as he kept him in sight anyway. Crossing the room, Will claimed the other chair and moved it to sit some distance away, where he could easily see both of his visitors. “We’ve been introduced,” said Will as calmly as possible. “Now let’s talk. Are you merely impersonating the Patriarch, or have you replaced him?”

“Introduced? Hardly. It would take more than a couple of names for that to be true, but I do appreciate your adaptability. Rather than saying I replaced the man, it would be more accurate to say I invented him.”

“Then it was you who ordered the attack on Barrowden a few years ago,” said Will carefully, his eyes hard.

“The one that killed your aunt and young cousin? I suppose that’s true, though I wasn’t particularly interested in going to war.”

Anger and fear warred within Will’s heart. Anger at the admission, and fear because it was obvious the creature he was talking to had been studying him for some time before appearing in his tent. “If you were the Patriarch, then it was you who made the decision.”

Grim Talek laughed at that. “Say that to me again after you’ve ruled Terabinia for a few years. Politics is never so simple, not even for a monarch such as your King Lognion. The war was the inevitable result of the more bloodthirsty factions within the Church of the Prophet.”

“You’re far too powerful to be forced to do anything by a human.”

“I’m immortal, yes. No one could harm me, definitely. I am also quite capable of killing every single person in Darrow, or Terabinia for that matter. Does that count as ruling? I could kill every individual person alive today, and by the time I got to the last one your race would have already fucked your way to having more people than there were when I started. Killing is not power, merely a tool that can provide it to some degree.”

Will’s curiosity overcame him. “Then why did you take the Patriarch’s place? Why seek to be a ruler? What could you possibly need here?”

“Company,” answered the lich frankly. “Even for a lich, loneliness becomes unbearable. You have no idea what a burden simple existence can become. Politics is an interesting game to relieve the tedium.”

“And the vampires you unleashed on Cerria? Was that also a game?”

The entirely human-appearing lich smiled, showing pearly white teeth. “I owe you for that. I never agreed to it. Alexander had started thinking too much of himself and he acted on his own. The fact that you so handily removed him from the playing field was a useful reminder to my other servants. They’ve been much more agreeable since then.”

“Why not remove him yourself?”

The lich leaned back in his chair and then rubbed his chin. A second later he answered, “How easy do you think it would be for me to kill you?”

Will’s heart sped up, but Grim Talek forestalled his reply with one hand. “No need to tense up. I was speaking hypothetically, so let me finish. Obviously, I could have killed you easily a few minutes ago, but let’s assume you were awake and aware of me, or even that you had time to prepare. Even as young as you are, and with your oh so fragile flesh, it might be a difficult chore. Now imagine that you have centuries of skill and experience, as well as a body with the strength, speed, and resilience of one of my Drak’shar. How easy would it be, even for me?”

“You’re suggesting he was your equal?”

The lich clucked his tongue in annoyance. “Not at all. But at my age I rarely do anything if I can have others do it for me.” Grim Talek studied him for a moment. “Shouldn’t you be asking more pertinent questions, such as why I am here?”

He’d dealt with several flavors of immortal already, and in his current state of mind, his own mortality didn’t seem very important. Losing Eric had left him feeling numb. Will shrugged. “You said that names were a poor introduction. I’m trying to understand you better before you start trying to convince me I should join your elite monster club.”

Grim Talek began laughing again, and this time it lasted longer. “You’re really quite amusing, William. I suppose I should have expected as much from Arrogan’s last pupil. He had quite a personality himself.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“Take it as a compliment. Humor is usually a sign of intelligence. Plus, you’ll need it to keep from losing your sanity after the first century or two.”

He was beginning to feel hopeful, for it seemed the lich really didn’t want a confrontation. “Are you suggesting I’ll live that long?”

The lich raised one brow. “Perhaps. That depends on you. If you do expire, it probably won’t be because of me, unless you come knocking at my door.”

“You aren’t angry that I’ve defeated your armies? Once Myrsta falls, Darrow and Terabinia will be united once more.” Will braced himself as he made the declaration, expecting anger, but Grim Talek remained calm.

The lich shrugged. “It was a fun game. You won. I can always do the same somewhere else, or raise a new empire from dust. However, since you mentioned Myrsta, I may as well come to the crux of the problem.”

Will waited, refusing to be baited.

“I miscalculated while calling in assistance for our friendly little war,” admitted the lich. “Or perhaps it would be better to say I didn’t manage that assistance closely enough. Some of the Shimeran priests were completely insane, and by that I mean that they really believed the bullshit teachings of their Book of Iron.”

He frowned. “By definition, aren’t all demon worshippers insane?”

The lich shook his head. “No, not at all. In fact, I would say that most of them aren’t, otherwise they’d have engineered their own extinction—along with the rest of humanity’s—generations ago. If you’ve learned anything about demons, then you know what their goals are—”

“Their home plane is parasitic,” Will responded. “They survive by devouring other worlds.”

Grim Talek seemed impressed. “It would be interesting to know how you learned that much. I doubt Arrogan had enough time to teach you that extensively, but I digress. Yes, they would love to exploit our world, but they can’t without our help. For the demons to win, all they need are some followers crazy and powerful enough to summon a demon-lord and then allow him to construct a spell-engine capable of anchoring their plane to ours.

“In general, this hasn’t happened because they are hypocrites. The senior leadership of the Church of Iron works carefully to weed out the truly suicidal recruits, but apparently, they grew lax and a few slipped through. The second reason it’s unlikely is because most of them don’t want to sacrifice their own followers. However, a few of the priests who responded to my request were especially insane, and the opportunity to sacrifice Darrowan citizens was all they needed to convince them they should actually try and make the prophecies in their black book come true.”

Will stared in disbelief. “You’re telling me you recruited Shimeran priests, lost control of them, and now you need me to stop them from summoning a demon-lord? Have I understood you correctly?”

“The spirit of it, but you’ve misunderstood the details. You can’t stop them from summoning a demon-lord because they’ve already done it, and it wasn’t just any demon-lord, it was Madrok himself.”

He wanted to jump up and run screaming around the room, but Will simply couldn’t muster the energy. “You’re the all-powerful wizard lich. You screwed up. It sounds to me like you need to clean up your own mess.”

“This is partly your fault as well,” said Grim Talek.

Isn’t it always, thought Will dryly. “How?”

“You made the war too interesting. You provided too much of a challenge, and when you took Maldon it completely distracted me. That’s why I came to meet you in person. Unfortunately, my departure was exactly what Shistok was waiting for. Within hours of my leave-taking, he sacrificed half the city to fuel his summoning ritual for Madrok.”

“Who is Shistok?”

Grim Talek waved a hand dismissively. “He was the senior priest, but no need to worry about him. The reports I’ve received indicate that Madrok devoured his heart within moments of crossing into our world.”

Will glared at the lich. “I’m not accepting any blame for your actions. I have plenty of mistakes of my own to beat myself up about. How long ago was this?”

“Roughly twelve hours ago, while I was traveling here,” said the lich amiably. “You should be glad. I actually was considering making you one of my Drak’shar, or killing you if that proved too difficult. Instead, I’m offering you a different option.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Which is?”

“Find a way to send Madrok back home and stop the spell-engine construction. Do that and you can live out your longer than average life. I won’t even argue about you taking Darrow from me—to be honest, I was getting tired of it.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you turned around and did it yourself? Every minute you waste here allows the demon-lord free rein to do as he wishes,” Will pointed out. “Threatening me or offering me Darrow isn’t going to solve your problem.”

Grim Talek shook his head, then got to his feet. “Oh no. You misunderstand, I wasn’t threatening you. I’m not going back. This was merely a courtesy visit. If you don’t manage to send Madrok back I will just relocate. There are plenty of other planes to consider.”

Will gaped. “If you can’t manage it, how am I supposed to do so?”

“Not my problem, and frankly, I really don’t expect you to. A smarter solution would be to find a new world for yourself.” Grim Talek nodded at Rob, indicating he should stand. “Time to leave, Robert.” Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a slim book before offering it to Will.

He didn’t reach for it. “What is that?”

“A gift I thought you might like. The journal contains notes and instructions regarding my message tablets. If you survive, or even if you move on, it’s a useful bit of artificing to learn. I created it myself, and to the best of my knowledge no one else has ever managed to steal or copy the secret.” The undead lich continued to hold it out to him, but when Will still didn’t move, he tossed it onto the chair he had vacated. “Don’t be so proud. It’s a secret many would kill to learn.”

When he turned away, Will suddenly broke his silence. “I’d rather know the spell you used on my friend.”

Grim Talek turned back, arching one brow again. “Really? I didn’t take you for the type. Most would consider it a vile piece of magic.” When Will didn’t answer, he gestured to the book on the chair. It flipped open, and a blank page from the back tore loose and floated over to hang in front of the lich. Lifting one hand, Grim Talek quickly wrote out the spell, using a different spell that seemed to act as an invisible pen.

Will watched in amazement, and when the lich finished, he sighed. The page flipped over in the air, and he began inscribing a second spell on the back. When it was finished, he sent the page floating toward Will. “There’s the spell I used, and on the back is the spell I used to write without a pen, since you seemed so fascinated by it.”

This time he took it out of the air, no longer worried it might be a trap. When he started to say something, the lich interrupted him with a warning. “Ask me for anything else and I won’t respond kindly.”

He had only one question. “Why?”

Grim Talek paused. “I’m not sure. I like you? It was a fun war? Take your pick. Farewell, William, and good luck with Madrok. I doubt we will meet again.”

And then he stepped outside and vanished from view. Will stared after him for a long while, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Then he looked down at the place where Rob had fallen and been tortured. The grass was torn up there, but he could see something white and angular sticking out from beneath a clod of dirt.

Cautious, he examined it carefully for any trace of magic but found none, so eventually he brushed the dirt aside. A small piece of folded paper was there. Opening it, he found a short note, presumably from Rob:

There is a spy among your officers.

Chapter 49

The next morning was quiet. Will slept in, despite the excitement that had interrupted his rest. When he finally woke, he could hear the normal sounds of a military camp outside, but no one had been allowed in to bother him. Apparently, Lieutenant Renly actually had a heart. Who knew?

He didn’t move from his cot, other than to adjust his position to allow for better blood flow. One shoulder had gotten cramped after being beneath him for too long. Instead, he stared around the interior, watching the light play through the flaps and beneath the bottom edges of the sides of his tent.

It looked like a frivolous moment of laziness, but Will’s mind was enjoying a moment of crystal clarity, the kind that only appears immediately after a solid sleep and before the urgency of life could spoil the mood with its hustle and bustle.

The goddamn cat had been right. That much was obvious, and because he was right, he wouldn’t be coming to save the day. Aislinn might be able to help, but the being that had visited him the night before was the only monster Will knew of that had frightened her and Arrogan enough that they gave up their attempts to eliminate it—and that same monster was too afraid to face Madrok.

“That does not bode well for you, Will,” he muttered to himself. It just figured that as soon as he’d finally reached the point of achieving the sort of power that might enable him to force his enemies to leave him alone that the world would go to hell. It’s never something I can handle, he thought sourly.

He spent a solid quarter of an hour feeling sorry for himself. Will reasoned that the world owed him that much at least, and then he started working through his options. The first and most obvious was making an escape.

That was the easiest course, but as he followed that train of thought, it got worse the further he went. He’d have to pick who he took with him, assuming he found a decent place to live, and also assuming he could learn enough to find such a plane. Thus far the only planes he’d ever traveled to were the fae realm and Muskeglun—and the ethereal, though he wasn’t sure if that counted.

Choosing the people he would save—that was an exercise in cruelty, and there was also the problem that many of them were likely to refuse. Laina, for example, was inordinately obsessed with her charity work. Will didn’t think she would be easily convinced to abandon Terabinia, much less the world itself. Selene was more pragmatic, but he worried she might choose similarly.

Soon enough, he abandoned the idea of running away. It might have been partly because the death of Eric had left him feeling somewhat fatalistic, but he preferred to think that maybe it was simply that he didn’t want to abandon humanity to such a dark fate. He suspected that Arrogan would have described it differently, accusing him of being suicidal. In the end, he didn’t care. I already knew something was wrong with me, he decided.

Will activated the limnthal and addressed the ring, “Back to our conversation about demon-lords…”

“I already told you. Avoid them like the plague. It’s not worth it,” said Arrogan.

“I hear you,” said Will. “I’m not planning on it, but I can’t help but think about it in a general sense. We had to fight some Shimeran priests the other day.” He went on to describe what had happened, as well as his explosive and unexpected use of his new talent. When he finished, he realized he had another question. “Before you tell me about demons, why do you think they froze? I wasn’t trying to do that.”

Arrogan answered carefully. “Since I wasn’t witness to it, I can’t be sure, but you’ve mentioned feeling a chill after using your talent before. Probably you’re using ambient turyn to convert thermal energy into sonic energy.”

Will frowned. “I thought I was converting the turyn itself into sound.”

“Maybe, but it’s rarely that clear cut. From what you described, you actually used the ambient magic to transform one form of kinetic energy into a different kind of kinetic energy. The turyn drew the heat out of the air and bodies of those nearby and converted it into sonic energy. That’s my best guess, anyway.”

An idea struck him, and he felt a sudden surge of hope. “Would something like that work against demons?”

“Most demons, certainly,” agreed the ring. “Though you’d have to have sufficient ambient or active turyn in the area to do something similar to what you did with the enemy soldiers.”

“Most demons,” repeated Will. “What about a demon-lord?”

“I already told you to forget about facing one directly,” said Arrogan waspishly.

“Just humor me. I’m curious.”

“It wouldn’t work. For the same reason I told you the other day when I said you don’t really have to fear magic anymore—from anyone. A demon-lord’s will and control over the magic around himself rivals that of a third-order wizard. Other than force spells, no magic you could create would hurt one.”

Well, shit, thought Will sourly. “What does work against them? Don’t they have a weakness, like the fae and iron, or vampires and silver?”

Arrogan laughed. “Unfortunately, no, but we don’t need one.”

“Why?”

“Because our world itself is poisonous to them. It’s filled with turyn that directly interferes with their own. Just as regular people die if they get any demonic turyn inside them, demons have similar problems,” said his grandfather.

Will wasn’t sure he agreed. “They don’t get sick from our turyn, even if I attack one directly with a spell. I know that from personal experience.”

“It doesn’t hurt them immediately. Unlike most people, demons can and do convert turyn like a wizard does, but they aren’t nearly as good at it. For example, a lone demon in our world has to kill to survive. It’s sort of similar to what vampires have to do. They kill living creatures to absorb the particular vital turyn within us, because that’s the one type of turyn here that they can naturally eat. Everything else, particularly elemental fire, is corrosive to them. No demon can survive in our world for an extended period. They have to return to their own plane to recuperate and recharge their turyn.”

“So, why are they so keen on coming here then?” asked Will in exasperation.

“Their plane is parasitic. If they don’t continue invading and feeding other worlds to it, it will begin to cannibalize itself. They need our help just to get here, but once they arrive, the main goal is always to find a way to bring enough force and power across to build the spell-engines that they use to anchor to, and destroy, other worlds. Without a spell-engine running, their time here is always limited. They need it to convert massive amounts of native turyn to void turyn. That turyn is released, creating a noxious local environment that nurtures and restores them.”

So, no spell-engine, no demons. Will wondered if there was a way to exploit that. If he couldn’t beat Madrok directly, maybe he could just prevent the demon from creating the spell-engine. “What do they need to create a spell-engine?”

“Ley lines,” said Arrogan. “Mass sacrifices work short term, but to be practical they need to tap into one or more ley lines to draw the power needed.”

“Like the chamber the duchess used back in Cerria,” said Will.

“Exactly. Most of the major cities were built on loci, places where two or more ley lines meet. It made it easy to create and power some of the greater magics, like the teleport beacons.”

Will didn’t have to ask if Myrsta had been built at such a place. And Madrok is there already. Could it get any worse? “Is a spell-engine like a ritual, or a spell construct? What does it look like?”

“Completely different,” said Arrogan. “They’re permanent constructs, so they have to be made from physical materials. In order to accomplish their purpose, the material has to be both incredibly strong and able to naturally transform energy into void turyn. I’m sure you can guess what they use just from that description.”

He looked down at the ebon metal of his breastplate. “Demon-steel? But it doesn’t convert normal turyn. From what I’ve seen, it only converts kinetic energy into void turyn.”

“Hence the term ‘engine,’” agreed Arrogan. “I’ve never seen one personally, but they’re described as massive, diabolical machines the size of a barn. The basic principle is that they tap into the turyn of the ley line and use that to power the machine, producing motion that is then used to drive demon-steel hammers somehow.”

He’d seen firsthand what happened when his breastplate received a powerful blow. If the blow was powerful enough, the armor burst into black void-flames.

Arrogan seemed to be warming up to the topic, and he continued, “I’ve no idea what sort of mechanical principles are used, whether they have gears, or simply trip-levers, or something even more complicated, but they’re big—really big. And once they have it running, the void turyn it emits makes the surrounding area absolutely lethal to everything living, just like their homeworld.”

“Like hell?” asked Will.

“Exactly. It spreads out slowly, but over years, maybe centuries, a demonic spell-engine will eventually convert all the magic of a world and kill everything in the process.”

Will had been to hell once, riding on the back of the goddamn cat. He’d had to use a demon-armor spell to protect himself from the deadly ambient turyn. These days, he could probably manage even without the spell, but he wasn’t entirely sure. A fresh idea came to him then. “Is there a positive equivalent to demon-steel?”

“Pardon?”

“A metal that converts kinetic energy into vital turyn instead of void turyn,” he explained.

“Not that I’ve ever heard of. I suppose the closest thing would be troll flesh.”

It was Will’s turn to be confused. “Huh? That doesn’t make any sense. Muskeglun is practically a desert, from an ambient turyn standpoint.”

His grandfather laughed. “And that’s exactly why. Think about it. Their regenerative powers are magic. Where do you think the turyn for that comes from?”

Will stared into space for a moment. He hadn’t really thought about it at all. “I just assumed they have a source like we do.”

“Nope. If that was the case, you could eat a piece of one and it wouldn’t hurt you, but if you cut up a troll into ten pieces, it will grow into ten full sized trolls. Provided they were all fed, of course. If they had a source, you’d only wind up with one troll.”

His mind was running through wild ideas by then. “What would happen if a demon ate troll flesh?”

His grandfather chuckled. “Same thing that would happen to you, I presume. Trolls aren’t bothered by void turyn either. As far as I know, Muskeglun is the one plane that demonkind has no interest in. There’s very little turyn, and it’s full of things they can’t eat.”

He returned to the previous point. “Wait, if trolls don’t have a source and they use turyn to regenerate, where does the turyn come from?”

“Food, chemical energy—they produce turyn the same way we produce body heat.”

Although Will found it all very fascinating, he was failing to find anything in the details that would help him chart a path to victory, much less survival. While he was thinking, Arrogan decided to ask a question of his own. “Now, why don’t you tell me the rest? You’re asking a lot of questions about spell-engines and demon-lords. Did you learn something new?”

“Someone’s coming,” Will lied quickly, then he deactivated the limnthal. He definitely wasn’t in the mood for the lecture he knew would follow, but he could delay it at least.

He stayed under his blanket for another half hour, mulling over the things he’d learned in his mind before eventually rising and dressing. Since he still hadn’t been interrupted, he spent some more time copying the spells that Grim Talek had left him into one of his journals. The killing spell was named ‘bonecrusher’ but a quick read-through showed that it did more than just break bones. It broke everything inside a body, grinding it all together indiscriminately while leaving the epidermis intact.

For a human, that meant a painful, but very rapid death. For more resilient creatures—like vampires, trolls, or demons—it was the worst torture imaginable. Whether it killed them or not depended on other factors specific to the monster and how much it could regenerate. The spell was only fourth-order, but it required quite a bit of energy. The scribing spell, named Sylen’s Pen, required almost no turyn, but was fairly complex. Will guessed it was about seventh-order.

He had just finished copying the spells when he heard shouting outside his tent. Will recognized both the voices involved. One was that of Lieutenant Renly, while the other belonged to Tiny. Leaping to his feet, Will ran out to avert a disaster.

Chapter 50

“He needs to see me!” insisted Tiny loudly. It was unusual for the big man to raise his voice, so Will knew he must be exceptionally stressed.

Renly answered in a calm tone, “I’ve already told you, and a dozen others before you, Marshal Cartwright isn’t to be disturbed, and that isn’t changing until he tells me otherwise. If he wanted to see you, he would have told me to make an exception.”

“I’m his oldest friend! This is precisely when he needs me,” protested the squire.

Janice spoke up then. “We heard he got bad news. We just want to check on him.”

“He’ll call for you when he wants to talk, or he won’t,” said Renly. “I’ll be certain to let him know you came by to offer your sentiments.” Then he spoke to someone else. “How about you, Lieutenant? Do you have urgent news?”

“No,” said a male voice. Will recognized it as that of Bug. “Nothing urgent, but it’s something I have to report personally.”

“Then you’ll have to return later,” said Renly.

Will stepped through the tent flaps and looked at his friends. “It’s all right, Renly. I’ve been awake for a while.”

His assistant stepped aside, and Tiny started to walk forward, but Will held up his hand. “What do you want?”

“To know how you’re doing,” said Tiny, giving him a funny look. “I heard the news.”

“I’ve been better,” Will admitted. Then his gaze moved to Janice. “How about you?”

“The same,” she answered. “Mind if we come in? I thought maybe—”

Will cut her off. “Has he apologized?”

Janice blanched. “That’s not important right now.”

“I did,” said Tiny abruptly. “But she isn’t ready to—”

Will spoke over him. “You didn’t forgive him yet?”

Her face clouded over. “You’re the one we’re worried about right now.”

“If you’re worried about me, then the two of you should go work out your problems. I have enough issues without watching the two of you sulk. I just—I just need some time alone. Things are going to be busier than ever soon.”

They could see the pain written on his face. Janice tried again. “Will, please, let us be there for you. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Go,” he told her. “And no steak for either of you until you make up or whatever it is you decide to do. I’ll be fine. Rest while you can. There will be a lot of orders coming down the chain soon.” Turning his gaze to Bug, he asked, “You found something?”

The lieutenant sorcerer nodded.

“Come inside. Let’s talk.” With that, Will turned his back on the others and returned to the privacy of his tent. Turning back, he stuck his head back out for a moment to give Lieutenant Renly one last instruction. “I’ll be ready to receive reports in an hour. Let the officers know. We’ll have a senior officers’ meeting in two hours.”

Inside the tent, Bug had a pensive look on his face. “Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe you should have let them in. From what I heard, you’ve had a terrible shock.”

Will shook his head. “I can’t. They’re too close to me, and I can’t afford to grieve right now. If I start talking about it I’m afraid I’ll come apart completely.” He smiled. “Sometimes it’s better to have someone around who isn’t quite as closely acquainted. You understand?”

Bug gave him a guilty look. “I’m don’t think I’m worthy of being called an acquaintance.”

Walking over, Will patted him on the shoulder. “By the time this war is all over, we’ll be more than that. Maybe next year it will be you I’m avoiding while I lick my wounds.”

“Maybe,” said Bug, seeming uncomfortable.

“What did you find?” asked Will.

The sorcerer opened up the small pack he was carrying and removed a cloth-wrapped bundle, which he handed to Will. Opening it up, Will saw a small journal and a silver metal tablet—the very one he’d seen Lustral tinkering with over the past week or two. Unable to restrain himself, Will picked up the journal. He spent a few seconds making sure there was no active magic before opening the cover.

Inside, he expected to see a cypher. If Lustral had been writing down the messages he received, he wouldn’t want to write them down without making sure no one could decipher the evidence of his treachery. Will was surprised to see the contents were written in plain, legible script. Skimming over the first pages, he quickly discovered the journal was devoted not to coded messages, but rather to Lustral’s attempts to decipher the runes that controlled the tablet itself.

“That makes no sense,” muttered Will. “If he didn’t understand how it worked, why did he have it?” His thoughts tumbled over one another for several seconds while he continued to thumb through the pages. Duke Lustral had apparently devoted a lot of time to trying to understand the secret workings of the enchanted tablet. Eventually, the realization struck Will. He wasn’t a traitor. I murdered an innocent man.

Lustral had certainly been a jackass, and he was still responsible for the deaths of a lot of good soldiers, but not because of deliberate treachery. It had simply been ordinary incompetence. Eric had died defending the pompous fool—and Will had killed the man in cold blood.

His hands tightened into fists, and the room seemed to sway around him.

Bug had been forgotten, but he still stood nearby. “You haven’t put your armor on yet?” he asked.

Will shook his head, not trusting his voice just then.

“I could help you put it on before I go,” said the young sorcerer, moving closer. “Since you’ll be taking reports soon.” He put a friendly hand on Will’s shoulder.

“No,” said Will. He paused as Bug’s arm slid around him as though he was going to hug him from behind. “What are—?” He started to pull away, but a blinding pain shot through his body.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Bug, his arm tightening around Will’s chest. “I’m so sorry.” His voice was full of guilt and fear.

Will bucked, his body trying to pull away from the long blade that had been thrust through his kidney and up into the center of his chest. Having been stabbed before, he already knew the blade wasn’t ordinary. Fire seemed to radiate from the wound, obliterating any attempt at reason or thought.

Bug stayed behind him, holding on tightly as Will tried to pull away. His strength was already gone, though. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Will knew the blade must have been poisoned. It shouldn’t hurt that much. He tried to scream, and only a wet gurgle emerged. One of my lungs was punctured, he thought.

“I’m sorry,” repeated Bug, over and over, as he lowered Will slowly to the ground. “I didn’t want to do this. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Will tried to use his magic, to do something, but the pain was too great. He could see Bug’s face now as he knelt over him. The young man was crying miserably. Staring into Bug’s eyes, Will tried to imagine a force-lance coming together, but nothing happened.

“I know you can’t forgive me,” said Bug, his voice forlorn. “I don’t expect you to, but if you want revenge, don’t worry. I don’t want to live after this. This wasn’t for me, it was for my family. I had to do it for them to live. I’m so sorry—so sorry.”

Getting more accustomed to the pain, Will tried to cast another spell and failed.

Bug sensed the struggle. “It won’t work. The blade is enchanted—and poisoned. I know it hurts, but it will be over soon. I’m sorry.”

He’s waiting for me to die, Will realized, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

Bug rocked back and forth over him, apologizing quietly while Will’s life slowly bled away. Will closed his eyes in frustration, not wanting to see his killer’s face any longer. All he could think about was Selene. The news of his death would devastate her—and as with everything else, it was all his own damn fault. I sent Laina away. I refused to let Tiny and Janice try to comfort me. I isolated myself and now I’m going to die for it—alone.

Helpless, he let his body relax, and after a minute Bug rolled him onto his side. A fresh surge of pain shot through him as the blade was pulled free, but he did his best not to move. The fire inside him continued to spread through is veins, but on a deeper level he could feel his turyn smoothing out. The poison was still working its way through his system, but his magic was stabilizing. It must have been the enchantment on the blade, he decided.

Opening his eyes slowly, he looked around. He couldn’t see anyone else with him, so he tried to turn his head and failed. Bug might still be there, behind him somewhere, but he couldn’t tell. There was no time left to waste.

Activating the limnthal, he summoned two potions. One was a universal antidote potion, the other a regeneration potion. They appeared above the palm of his left hand and tumbled to the dirt floor as he tried to grasp them.

His hands weren’t cooperating. After a brief struggle, he realized that neither were his arms—or his legs. The pain that had been burning through his veins had subsided into a dull numbness. He was paralyzed. Only his eyes would move, and all they could tell him was that the ground in front of him was gradually soaking up his blood.

I’m really going to die like this. It was a hard to face, but he had run out of options. Selene, I’m sorry. He wanted to see her face. He didn’t want to die alone.

In a fit of selfish desperation, he did something that if he’d been in a more rational mood he would never have done. He summoned his wife’s face so he could say goodbye. It was cruel, but he couldn’t help himself.

Lying on the blood-soaked ground, he saw Selene’s face appear in the air in front of him. He tried to speak, but of course, his voice failed him like the rest of his body had. “Will? What’s wrong? Will!”

Selene’s features were beautiful as ever, but the panic didn’t suit her. Will wished he could tell her that. I love you, he thought, hoping his eyes alone could deliver the message.

“William! Talk to me! What’s wrong? Is that blood?” Her pitch was rising as fear took hold. Contacting her had been a mistake.

And this is how she’s going to remember me. I’m such a jerk. Feeling weak, he let his eyes close. Keeping the connection open was tiring, and probably even more so for her.

“Bring me over, Will! I don’t have the strength for it. William, wake up! You have to do this, please! I can’t do it alone.” Though he couldn’t see her any longer, the tears and desperation in her voice made his heart ache. “William!”

He started to release the link, but a surge of turyn overwhelmed him, and the connection between them grew stronger instead. The magic swelled briefly and then vanished. It was over.

A tear leaked from the corner of his eye. Now I can die.

But death refused to come. His mind continued to think, and his regrets continued to torment him. How long is this supposed to take? he wondered. Let me go so I can quit thinking about her!

Selene was still on his mind, so much so that he imagined he could smell her. Something warm brushed against his face. “William?”

He opened his eyes. Selene was lying on the ground in front of him. Her face had a pallid hue, but her trembling arm was reaching out to him. What the hell?

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Where’s your potions? Holy Mother, the blood!”

You’re probably lying on them, he thought. How ironic. He was probably going to die with the potions just a foot away, underneath Selene’s rump—and he couldn’t say a single word to tell her. She’s really going to be mad later when she realizes.

A rustling came from behind, outside his viewing angle. Bug hadn’t left, he’d just been in the front section of the tent. “What’s this?” asked the young man.

Will hoped Selene would jump up, to either fight or run, but she only moved slightly. Her head lifted slightly and then slumped back to the ground. Why doesn’t she do something? A second later, he understood. Selene was entirely turyn deprived.

Just contacting her through the heart-stone enchantment tired her out, even though he provided most of the turyn. How she had found the strength or power to summon herself through the link without his help, he couldn’t understand, but she had. Doing that had taken energy she didn’t have.

It was a miracle she was even conscious.

“Why?” asked Bug, sounding mournful. “Why? This isn’t fair.”

“Help him,” commanded Selene. “Help us.” Incredibly, she began to sit up, though her entire frame shook with the effort.

“Oh, gods! You’re so beautiful. Are you his wife? This isn’t fair,” moaned Bug. “Why are you here?”

“Help him,” she ordered. “Call someone.”

“I can’t,” said Bug sadly. “I killed him, and now I’m going to have to kill you too.”

Will couldn’t see Bug, except for his hand, as it caught Selene’s hair and pulled her sideways so that she fell across his body. A fresh wave of pain shot through him as her weight pressed down on his chest. Inside, Will was screaming, not from the pain, but from his desperate need to stop what was happening.

His ears were full of Selene’s wheezing gasps. All he could see were her legs, kicking as she tried to breathe. Bug was slowly choking the life out of her—on top of him. The wheezing stopped once Bug’s hands got a better grip, but Selene’s body continued to twist and move.

A moment later, she rolled off, and Will’s view improved. Bug was on top of her now, tears streaming down his cheeks as Selene’s face turned purple.

No!

And then something changed. Will felt it abruptly. A tingle ran over his skin as the turyn around them shifted, flowing toward Selene’s body. A second later, Bug went stiff and fell sideways, his hands going limp, while Selene began to heave as she tried to draw in air.

Her eyes were bloodshot when she sat up, coughing and struggling to catch her breath. Something seemed to be wrong with her throat. Will could see the source-link she had attached to her would-be assassin.

Somehow, she’d found enough turyn to cast the simplest of spells, and he already knew from experience that her will was more than a match for most. Bug hadn’t had a chance once she had found a way to create the link.

Scrabbling in the dirt, Selene lifted the regeneration potion, then popped the cork and drank the contents. For a moment, Will was confused, until he heard her begin to suck in huge lungfuls of air. Will understood then. He must have crushed her trachea.

Picking up the second potion, Selene opened it as well and then poured the contents into Will’s mouth. He tried to swallow, but wasn’t entirely sure if he had succeeded.

That done, Selene went to the paralyzed assassin and bent down. Will heard the whisper of metal as she drew the short thrusting sword from its sheath. It was followed by a wet noise a moment later as Selene found a new home for the blade.

Still unable to speak, Will watched in silence as his wife thrust the heavy blade into Burke’s torso again—and again. She was growling as she repeated the motion, and her face was twisted into an expression of pure hatred. “Don’t you ever—!” The words were too thick to be entirely understandable, but the key points came through. “You son of a bitch!”

The profanity continued as she drove the sword into Bug’s body several more times. The man was certainly dead by then, but Selene’s rage wasn’t quite done. Withdrawing it once more, she worked the point in between the sorcerer’s teeth and then bore down, putting all her weight on the pommel of the sword. The blade passed through his mouth, and then with an audible crunch, it pierced through the back of Bug’s skull and into the ground beneath him.

Will had seen plenty of horrors in his time, but Bug’s death was definitely going to be among the top ten. Selene was a gruesome sight as she stood and stared downward, her chest heaving for breath. Despite what she’d done, most of the blood on her was in the form of a muddy red streak from laying on the ground beside him, but there were a few fresh drops spattered across her cheek and the front of her dress.

After a moment, she seemed to regain her senses, and Selene looked wild eyed around the tent’s interior, as though suddenly realizing there might be more enemies. When she failed to find any, she returned to Will and began examining him.

The world turned dark as his vision faded out, but all Will cared about was the soft touch of her hair on his cheeks. If I have to go, this is the way it should be…

“Will! Wake up. I need you to stay conscious. Can you summon another regeneration potion for me? I had to use the other one. William!” Her voice was fading away. “Somebody! I need help!”

Chapter 51

The warm darkness was disturbed by a dim light that kept intruding on his awareness. Opening his eyes, Will saw a lamp burning nearby. That seemed strange, since for some reason he’d assumed that there wouldn’t be lamps in the afterlife. Looking around, he saw Selene beside him, her eyes open, watching him.

“I thought paradise would be different,” he said, offering his opinion. Glancing around, he saw that he wasn’t in a cot. Selene had gathered a collection of blankets and pillows from the gods knew where and constructed a somewhat decadent sleeping mound for the two of them. In fact, after a second glance, Will was pretty sure it wasn’t even his original tent, which was probably a good thing, considering all the blood that had been spilled in his.

“Are you disappointed?” asked Selene.

“No. This is better. Am I dreaming, or did I die?”

She gave him a stern look. “You’re alive for now, but that may change after I’ve heard the rest of the story from you.”

He remembered his old friend the rock and realized he had a lot of explaining to do. Then he wondered how long he’d been unconscious. How much did they tell her? “Do I get a kiss first?”

She seemed to consider the question carefully before eventually leaning over and meeting his lips. The kiss that ensued sent a delightful ache through his lips, to his heart, and then it continued on, sparking a fresh warmth in other places.

A sudden pain brought him back to his senses as Selene pulled on the hair at the back of his neck. “Ow!”

Her voice sounded dangerous as she asked, “Where’s Laina?”

“Well, about that—ow! Don’t pinch me!”

Selene’s eyes had narrowed. “She’s not supposed to be in Klendon. She’s supposed to be here, making sure you don’t get murdered.”

So, she’s had enough time to ask them some questions, thought Will. Damn.

“Where’s Mark Nerrow?” she demanded.

Will yelped, “Ow!” She had pinched him before he could answer.

“You decided to prioritize his safety over your own? Didn’t you?”

He clenched his jaw. “He’s my father.”

“Imagine how he feels then,” snapped Selene. “What you keep forgetting is just how much you mean to the rest of us—what you mean to me. I know just how badly you want to protect your family and friends, but we feel the same way. Sending away everyone who wants to help you isn’t smart.”

“I’ve been careful,” Will lied.

Selene’s eyes widened slightly, expressing shock. “Really? You’ve been careful? Is that why you decided to hold the gate open at Klendon all by your lonesome?”

Oh shit. How long had he been asleep? Will’s eyes roamed the room, scanning for weapons she might be tempted to use—or possible escape routes.

“What about your brilliant plan to take Maldon by blowing up the city gate—while you were standing next to it? Is that your definition of careful?” Her hand came up, and she caught his chin before turning his face back toward hers. “Stop looking for a way out of this. Tiny and Janice are outside, along with Barrentine’s company and several other mean-looking sorcerers. You aren’t going anywhere.”

Will let his body go slack, and he slumped to the floor. Staring up at the ceiling, he replied, “It sounds like you’ve heard a lot already. How long was I asleep?”

“Most of the day. The sun went down a couple of hours ago.”

“Did you hear about Eric?” he asked quietly.

He could hear a quick intake of breath. “No. I hadn’t heard.” Her hand snaked across and found his beneath the blankets. “I’m sorry. Want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” he answered sullenly, but then he began talking anyway. His chest ached as he spoke, even though his wounds were fully healed. He kept the tale short, but it led to a dozen other things Selene should probably hear about. Will started with the first and worst revelation. “I killed Felix Lustral a few days ago—before I had even learned about Eric.”

“There was good reason to suspect him—” she began.

Will cut her off. “He was innocent. Bug brought me one of his notebooks right before trying to kill me. That’s part of the reason I was so distracted.”

A new growl emerged from Selene’s throat. “I wish I could kill him again.”

He draped his forearm across his eyes. “I’m pretty sure he was coerced. It sounded like someone was using his family against him.”

“I don’t care,” said Selene, practically spitting from the intensity of her anger.

Will looked at her over his arm. “You’re usually more logical about these things.”

Glaring at him, Selene moved suddenly, pushing his arm back and bringing her face down until it was inches from his own. He thought she was going to kiss him again, but when their mouths got close she nipped his upper lip—hard. “Don’t expect me to be rational about this. He tried to kill you. I’m not my father. I take things like that personally.” She finished with a real kiss.

The kiss went on for several moments, but eventually she pushed his hands away. “This interrogation isn’t over yet.”

“Damn it.”

Selene let her breath out in a great sigh. “It’s not so bad. I think I’ve already found out about your worst transgressions, and I don’t give two figs about Felix Lustral.”

“He’s not the only one,” admitted Will, before proceeding to tell her about the commander of Maldon’s peremptory execution.

She listened but showed no sign of discomfort. “If anyone else had done it, it might have been a problem, William, but not you. Father won’t hold it against you.” She waved her hand in a wide circle. “Besides, you’ve all but finished taking Darrow. From what I heard about the last battle, the Patriarch has practically nothing left. You even recruited some of his army.”

He said nothing for a moment.

“The king can’t argue with success,” she added, then she noticed the look on his face. “What? What else is there?”

Will debated with himself about what to reveal. In the end, he settled for explaining Grim Talek’s visit, but he avoided mentioning what the goddamn cat had told him. If it was true, then they had practically no chance, but he couldn’t bear to rob her of whatever small hope she could find. Even so, the news was extremely grim (pun intended), but Selene took it surprisingly well.

“So, you think Myrsta is full of demons,” she summarized.

He nodded. “And Madrok himself, and possibly a spell-engine meant to slowly destroy the world.”

Selene met his gaze evenly. “Sounds like fun.”

“You aren’t coming with me,” he pronounced firmly.

“The hell I’m not,” she replied calmly.

Will glared at her, and Selene glared right back. After thirty seconds, he had to admit she was better at it than he was, but he still had no intention of changing his mind. “You can’t use magic—”

“Didn’t you see what happened today?” she countered. “That wasn’t a fluke. It started a week ago. I wanted to surprise you. I’m drawing turyn in faster and faster with every day that passes.”

He couldn’t help but feel proud. His wife had become the second third-order wizard in modern history. Now that she was beginning to actively absorb turyn, she was bound to steadily improve. “Congratulations,” he said sincerely. “You’re a wizard.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” she protested.

“I mean it,” said Will. “You’ve accomplished something I thought might be impossible, but if there’s a spell-engine in Myrsta then the area is going to be flooded with void-turyn.”

Her jaw firmed. “I’ll use the demon-armor spell.”

“You have to sustain it,” he returned. “It’s a constant drain on your energy, and if you don’t, you’ll soon be drowning in demonic magic. It’ll kill you.”

“But not you?” she shot back.

Will shook his head. “I’m at a point now where I don’t even really need the demon-armor spell. I can absorb and convert it quickly enough that it will hardly even be an inconvenience for me.”

There were daggers coming from her eyes. “You always have an excuse, don’t you?”

Sitting up, he started to put his arms around her. “Not in Barrowden, remember? We walked into that insanity together.”

“You didn’t even know my name,” she protested, pushing his arms away. “You still thought I might be planning to betray you.”

“Did not,” he lied, trying again to catch her in an embrace.

Selene ducked and scooted farther back. “You’re not going to Myrsta alone. There’s no way you can do it by yourself. I absolutely know you’re planning to take help with you.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you tell me Janice is going because you’ve found some special way for her to survive, you’re going to regret it.”

In point of fact, he had no such plan. He had no plan at all. He’d only learned the bad news the night before, after finding out his cousin had died. During the morning, he’d started to think things over, but nearly being assassinated had scattered his thoughts. There was really no way he could take anyone with him. The army, his sorcerers, Tiny, all the rest—they could only accompany him up to the point where the void turyn was present. Tailtiu might be able to get farther than that, but even she had limits. Without being a wizard like her mother, Aislinn, she too would begin to sicken in the toxic environment.

From what Arrogan had told him, it would be nearly impossible for anyone or anything to approach the area, aside from… Will’s eyes went wide as an important realization hit him. Lunging forward, he grabbed Selene’s head between his hands and kissed her despite her evasive tactics. “No. I’m not going alone,” he told her with a smile. “But Janice can’t come with me either.”

His wife wiggled and let out a strange squeak before finally escaping. “What? You have an idea?”

He nodded.

She glared at him suspiciously. “Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to get rough?”

Will agreed immediately. “I’m going to tell you, but first let’s get rough.”

She tried to escape, but he caught her ankle and dragged her back. “This isn’t what I meant,” she protested. “I want to hear the plan first.”

“Afterward. I haven’t seen you in forever,” he responded, his voice deepening.

Selene launched a counterattack, rolling him over until she could press his shoulders down into the pillows. “Only if I approve of the plan.”

There was a hungry light in her eyes that matched his own. “I need you to help me create something,” he responded, running his hands up the outside of her legs.

She frowned. “You don’t mean…”

“No!” he laughed, guessing her thoughts. “A spell.”

Selene hesitated. “We probably shouldn’t waste any more time. A spell could take a while to sort out properly. Why not tell me what you’re thinking first—”

He shook his head. “This won’t take long,” he said earnestly.

She snorted in an entirely unladylike fashion. “So romantic—who could resist such charm?” Selene’s eyes were filled with mischief, however and she leaned in to kiss him once more.

As her lips descended, Will managed one last sentence. “I meant the spell…”

Chapter 52

As so often happened, Selene proved him wrong. Weeks of celibacy made their initial liaison much briefer than usual. His extended abstinence also left him with plenty of energy to argue his point again, but Selene stopped him.

“There’s a world to save,” she reminded. “Much as I want to, you need to tell me what you’re thinking. Sometimes you’re overly optimistic. This spell might be harder than you realize.”

“Much harder.”

“Stop it,” she said, remonstrating him with a sympathetic grin. “I kept my part of this devil’s bargain. Spill it. What’s your plan?”

It actually wasn’t a plan at that point, but rather a couple of inspired ideas held together with glue and twine. After he’d shared his thoughts, Selene wasn’t too shy to give him her opinion. “That’s it? I can’t believe I slept with you! I want a refund.”

“No refunds,” he responded immediately. “But if you like, I’ll be happy to work off the debt.” His fingers crept stealthily along her leg.

She smacked his hand away. “Enough of that. This is serious. I think there’s some promise in what you’re thinking, but it needs a lot of refinement.”

That got his attention. Anything that might improve their odds was worth considering, and Selene was one of the few people he considered capable of thinking up a miracle on short notice. “What do you suggest?”

“Your spell idea is really clever,” she began. “I don’t think it will be easy to do it that way, though, not with the time we have, but if we make a few changes we can do something really similar.”

“I’m all ears.”

“First, we need to divide up the labor. Let me figure out the spell. Janice and some of the more talented students can help if I have any problems. That will take a few days even with my changes. Meanwhile, you can work on the other problem.”

He looked at her doubtfully, finally willing to express his own fear. “Do you think I can really do it?”

She blinked and looked away for a second, momentarily overcome by emotion. When her eyes returned to his, they were calm and confident. “Of course, you can. I believe in you. I’m sure I’ve told you this before: my husband is not your usual idiot. I know you’ll succeed. Besides, who knows what other help might appear. That cat of yours usually shows up when demons are involved.”

Will pressed his lips together and nodded. After a second, he stood and started to dress. “I’d better get moving.” They had a lot to do. Orders needed to be given and powers consulted. Between the spell design and Will’s task, it might take them a week to prepare.

Selene pulled the covers around herself self-consciously. “Do you think you could find me something to wear?”

“What happened to the dress you were wearing?”

“Well, to begin with, I got mud and blood on a considerable portion of it—”

He waggled his brows. “I know the perfect spell for that.”

She rolled her eyes. “—and I cut parts of it up to try and staunch your bleeding.”

Will frowned. He already knew she’d given him a regeneration potion, otherwise he wouldn’t have slept so long—and he would still be injured. Then he remembered that she had taken the regeneration potion herself. “Where did you get the potion to heal me?”

Selene wasn’t the type to be easily flustered, but she blushed suddenly. “After cutting up my skirts, I ran out and yelled at anyone and everyone until I found proper help.”

He glanced around until he spotted the remains of her dress. It was hanging up on one side of the tent, and the skirt was entirely gone. He tried not to smirk as he imagined Selene running around a military camp bare-legged.

“Fortunately, Tiny had the potions you gave him. You need to replace his regeneration potion, by the way.”

Will nodded, beginning to chuckle.

“Careful what you laugh at,” she warned.

Will got up but continued to snicker. “I guess we really should get to work.” He began dressing, and once that was done Selene helped him with his armor. It felt nostalgic, having her diligent hands helping to adjust and settle his mail and breastplate. Ordinarily Lieutenant Renly performed the task, and while the man did a perfect job of it, it just wasn’t the same. He could feel Selene’s seriousness as she tried to ensure everything was snug and in place. More than anyone, including himself, she wanted to be certain he would be as safe as possible.

She finished and glanced up at him. “Are you crying?”

“No,” he lied before attempting to wipe his cheeks with one forearm. Mail was ill-suited to the task though, and the new beard on his cheek was immediately caught in the metal rings. “Ow, ow!”

Selene caught his arm before he could tear the hair out, keeping it still. “By the Mother!” she swore. “Hold still.” After a short search, she returned with a straight razor from his kit and somehow cut him free without damaging his beard too badly. Then she kissed his cheek. “You’re such a baby. What did you do before I got here?”

Will grinned. “I definitely didn’t cry as much.” He rubbed his cheek with one hand. “You probably should have shaved it off. What do you think?”

She shook her head. “Keep it. It looks good.”

“You didn’t like it last year.”

“It’s gotten thicker. Last year, it looked like you were trying to compensate for being young. It suits you better now.”

“I guess that settles that,” he remarked. “I’m going to call a meeting, and I’ll leave immediately after that. Do you want to be in—”

Selene waved her hand dismissively. “Just send Janice. I don’t have time to play war with you. Make sure she knows I need to borrow some clothes, too.”

“Play war?” he cried out in mock outrage.

“Shoo! Get out. This spell isn’t going to design itself.”

She made motions to try and hurry him from the room, but he caught her hands and gave her one last kiss. “See you in a few days.”

“Be careful.”

“I’ll be perfectly safe,” he told her. “I’m the Grak-Murra, remember?”

***

The senior officers’ meeting got off to a rough start, as Will had to explain both his relative absence for the past day as well as the new information he’d gained from his meeting with Grim Talek. The day’s assassination attempt and the sudden appearance of Terabinia’s Crown Princess only served to throw additional fuel on the fire of an already chaotic meeting.

“Where is Her Majesty now?” asked Commander Lambel. “Will she be assuming command?”

Will fought to keep his irritation from showing. While Lambel was earnest and hardworking, in Lustral’s absence the young commander had shown an annoying tendency to ask an abundance of questions. “No. She will be busy with another project, although if she asks for anything, I expect you to provide it immediately.”

“Won’t you be here?” asked Lambel, quickly catching the subtext of Will’s answer.

“I have something pressing to take care of.” He looked at Sub-Marshal Nicht. “I want riders sent to Klendon and Maldon. Bradshaw needs to be kept informed. I want Sub-Marshal Nerrow to leave one regiment in Maldon and bring the rest of Fifth Division here to increase our strength. Fulstrom, you’ll be in charge until he arrives.”

Fulstrom nodded. “Where will you be? We really need to know.”

“Finding new allies,” said Will. “I may be back by the time Sub-Marshal Nerrow gets here, or it may take me a few days more. Either way, don’t wait for me. Once our forces are together, start pushing for Myrsta once more. Move slowly and scout more than you ordinarily would. I believe the Darrowan military is essentially non-existent now, but I might be wrong. I was certainly wrong last time.”

Subcommander Terrell spoke next. “You’re certain the Patriarch is dead, sir? Are you sure we can trust your mysterious informant?”

He wasn’t alive to begin with, though Will. He wasn’t sure how long Grim Talek had been acting as the Patriarch, but it didn’t matter. “I don’t really trust the informant, but I’m certain he spoke truth. Myrsta is entirely in the hands of demons now.”

Subcommander Gravholt paled as he heard that news, but kept his silence. The former marshal of the Darrowan army had remained mostly quiet during the meeting to avoid antagonizing his former enemies.

Sub-Marshal Nicht had one more important question. “If we reach the capital before you return, do you want us to try and take it, or wait for you?”

“I don’t think you’ll even be able to approach it,” said Will. “If the demons have set up a spell-engine, the area around it will be lethal to humans. Let the sorcerers determine how close you can get and stop there. You may even have to withdraw some distance, depending on how long it is before I arrive.”

“How are we supposed to take the city if we can’t even enter it?” asked Fulstrom in dismay.

“You aren’t,” Will told him. “That’s why I’m going to get some help.”

In the end, he told them what he intended, and although they did indeed react with a mixture of incredulity and disgust, Will saw some hope in their eyes. After the meeting was over, he simply walked away, heading west until he reached the outer sentries. Tiny was waiting for him there.

“You aren’t seriously planning to run off on your own again?” asked his friend.

Will nodded. “I am.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“I already spoke with Captain Barrentine,” said Will. “He agreed you should stay here.”

“I’m reassigning myself then,” growled Tiny.

He sighed. “Janice is staying here.”

“So?”

“Did she forgive you?” Tiny’s red face was all the answer he needed. Will smiled. “Finally.” Summoning a regeneration potion from the limnthal, he handed it to his friend. “Thanks for the potion.”

“It was yours to begin with,” said Tiny, crossing his arms. “Stop changing the subject.”

“I’m not going into danger,” Will replied. “Not much anyway. Tailtiu will be with me.”

“That really doesn’t make me feel any better,” said Tiny sourly.

He explained his plan, and more importantly, his travel arrangements. “I’m going to be switching back and forth between planes with Tailtiu, and she’ll be carrying me. Strong as she is, she’s no Thunderturnip. I don’t think she can carry us both.” Will looked down the road, past Tiny’s shoulder. “Speaking of which, I think she’s here.”

A giant owl landed on the road, then transformed into Tailtiu’s slender, elfin form. She still carried the small cloth sack, and after transforming she opened it and dumped the puppy out onto the ground before walking toward them. The tiny canine trundled after her, tongue hanging out as he followed.

Tiny spoke before Will did. “You still have him.”

Tailtiu looked from the big warrior to Will. “He’ll always be mine.”

With a sigh, Will corrected the misunderstanding. “He’s referring to the puppy.”

Her brows went up. “Oh! You mean Dinner.” Bending over, she picked up the pup and stroked it gently while it licked the fingers of her other hand.

“You said you were going to eat him,” growled Tiny.

“I haven’t had much of an appetite,” she said insouciantly. “Besides, it would probably be better to wait until he’s fattened up some. He would hardly serve as even an appetizer at this size.”

Tiny started forward, but Will stepped into his path. The squire stared down at him with burning eyes, but Will held his ground. “Trust me,” was all he said.

The moment stretched out, but finally his friend answered, “Always. It’s her I don’t trust.”

“Take care of them. I’ll be back,” said Will.

“When?”

“Before it’s too late,” he responded. Tailtiu was silent as Will walked over to her, though her eyes never left him. “I need to go home,” he told her.

She considered him for a second. “Safely?”

“Quickly, safety be damned.”

His aunt scooped Dinner back into his sack and handed it to him. “Hold onto Dinner for me.” Then she transformed, becoming a large doe. Will had traveled with her in that form before, so he already knew what to do. As Tailtiu bent one foreleg, he scrambled onto her back.

A normal deer wouldn’t have been able to carry him, but Tailtiu’s deer form was uncommonly large. Will leaned forward and clutched the puppy under his right arm just before she leapt into motion and the world began to race away beneath her feet.

Chapter 53

They left Will’s home plane, Hercynia, and entered the fae realm within a few minutes and then entered an entirely foreign plane moments after that, which was something of a surprise to Will. Generally, when traveling through Faerie to get somewhere quickly, Tailtiu would only choose congruence points with Will’s home plane. The technique revolved around her perfect knowledge of every point of contact between the two worlds. Tailtiu (or any other fae) could pass between worlds at one congruence point, then pass back at another point that was far closer to their final destination than if they had chosen to simply travel directly there within the original plane.

What caught him off-guard was her use of planes he had never been to previously. “Some of these places are very dangerous for mortals,” she warned, looking back at him with one large brown doe eye.

“Are they hostile?” asked Will.

“Some are,” she replied, “but mainly they’re just difficult for ordinary living creatures to survive in. I’ll assume you can handle them, but if we enter one that you think will kill you, try to tell me quickly. If we go too far, I might not be able to turn back fast enough to save you.”

He had seen some of the stranger parts of Faerie, so he figured he could handle almost anything. “Just let me know what to expect as we go,” he said confidently.

“The next one is cold,” she warned.

“No problem.” Or so he thought. The next world wasn’t a winter wonderland. It wasn’t even recognizable as a world according to Will’s limited experience. As they passed into it, the ground vanished entirely. The air was thick but breathable—barely. It held an intense cold that immediately began to seep into his bones.

Dinner began to squirm beneath his arm, and Will realized the tiny canid was probably suffering even more than he was. If he had been dressed more casually, he would have put the dog down the collar of his tunic to keep it warm against his chest, but with his armor that was impossible.

Looking down, he could see ice crystals forming at the edges of the puppy’s nose, and unsure what else to do, he stored Dinner in the limnthal. At first, he wasn’t even sure if it would work, since he’d never used the limnthal while on another plane, but it did.

Will wasn’t really sure if the limnthal was safe for living creatures. He’d kept a vampire in there for an extended period of time, but on Arrogan’s advice he’d made certain to keep the creature well protected from light. All he knew for certain was that the place had air and was somewhat close to the temperature of his own world. Things stored there always came back cool but not frozen.

And time moves a thousand times slower, he reminded himself. Even if it’s dangerous, I should be able to summon him back before it’s been long enough to harm him. He hoped.

Tailtiu had shifted forms in such a way that it was almost imperceptible. She still possessed fur, but her body was long and sleek with a paddle-like tail. Will’s legs were wrapped around her mid-section, and he held onto her fur with one hand as she swam through the endless, cold, dark sky.

Minutes passed, and it became harder to breathe. His nose, throat, and lungs ached from the burning cold, and it became difficult to force himself to draw in enough air. Will’s nose had gone numb, and he’d had his eyes closed for so long he wasn’t sure if he could still open them. They might have frozen shut.

He was beginning to worry that he wouldn’t be able to last when Tailtiu finally reached the next congruence and brought them back to Faerie. The area they emerged in was a sunny plain covered in thick grass. His aunt paused there for a moment to let him warm back up, and Will took the opportunity to summon Dinner back.

“What did you do?” she asked when she saw the sack reappear.

“I almost froze to death. At his size there’s no way he could have survived, so I stored him in the limnthal,” explained Will.

“Is he all right?” Tailtiu transformed without warning, regaining her usual appearance and sending Will sliding roughly to the ground. She turned and caught the sack before Dinner could fall with him.

He didn’t complain, though he rubbed his backside as he got back to his feet and watched Tailtiu examine the puppy for any damage. There was a distinct aura of anxiousness in her body language. “Will he become immortal?” asked Will.

Green eyes snapped toward him and focused on his face. “What?”

“If he’s been staying with you and he eats food there, he’ll become fae as well, won’t he?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Tailtiu. “Then there’d be no point in eating him. He would lose that special flavor unique to mortal flesh.”

“So, you haven’t been keeping him with you?”

“No. I found a quiet place in your realm. He stays there whenever I must return to Faerie and regain my strength.”

“You leave him alone?” Will tried to imagine it. “Is this in the wild somewhere? Aren’t you afraid something will get him?”

“I built a shelter for him,” she replied, turning her head to the side as Dinner licked her chin and cheeks.

Will found her behavior strange. It didn’t fit any of his conceptions about his aunt. “You made a home for him, a doghouse?”

Tailtiu sneered at him. “Don’t be silly. It’s a farm.”

“You’re attached to him. He isn’t food. He’s a pet,” accused Will.

She sighed. “Your people do the same thing. You build barns and buildings to shelter your livestock. This is no different.”

“Mm hmm,” Will responded dubiously.

She ignored his obvious disbelief. “I’ll have to change our route. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Dinner won’t survive the next plane.”

“How bad is it?”

“There’s no air.”

“Since the limnthal didn’t hurt him, I can put him in there. How long will I have to hold my breath?” asked Will.

Tailtiu smirked. “You can’t. The air would explode out of your lungs if you tried, or you would hurt yourself even worse. There’s almost no pressure at all, but you only have to endure it for ten or fifteen seconds.”

It sounded bad to Will. “Anything else I should worry about?”

“Your eyes and ears. You might go blind and your eardrums could potentially burst. I stopped using a humanoid form after my first time through there. Do you have a way to protect yourself?”

He ran through several ideas, but none were practical. A water-breathing spell wouldn’t work, since it simply stored air in a compressed space within his chest. It essentially just allowed him to hold his breath for an extremely long period of time, and according to what Tailtiu had just said, that would be a bad idea. A force-globe or a force-cage could be used to contain air, but if Tailtiu was inside it with him she wouldn’t be able to propel them, and if she was outside it, she wouldn’t be able to move him.

In the end, the best solution he could come up with was using an iron-body transformation on himself. That would vastly increase the strength of his skin, eyes, and ear drums, though he wasn’t sure if it would be enough. Tailtiu transformed into a new animal form that was functionally similar to the deer form, but rather than fur it had rough, hard skin and there were no eyes at all. Will stored Dinner once again in the limnthal and leapt onto her back. As she took them through the congruence, he made a mental note to not clench his jaw. If he didn’t let the air out of his lungs, his chest might burst.

The air exploded from his mouth the moment they crossed over, followed by intense pain in his eyes, nose, mouth, and sinuses. Seconds later, Will felt his skin begin to tingle and burn. His tongue swelled in his mouth until it felt as though it might strangle him. A loud sound followed by a sharp pain in his ears came next, and then the world went silent.

He couldn’t see, but that meant little since he had kept his eyes closed. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, but there was only one thing he could do—hold onto Tailtiu and hope they would reach the next congruence quickly. Despite the strange sensations and intense pain, Will couldn’t help but notice how heavy his body felt. Not only that, but Tailtiu’s steps seemed to strike the ground with uncommon force.

And then it was over. He struggled to draw air into his wounded lungs. His throat was swollen to the point that air could scarcely pass, and when he opened his eyes the world was a red mess. He couldn’t hear anything either.

Trying to stay calm, Will dismissed the iron-body spell and summoned Dinner and a regeneration potion from the limnthal. He felt Tailtiu take the puppy and then wasted no time drinking the potion. For once, his mouth and throat were in such bad shape that he didn’t even mind the foul taste.

A minute later, his eardrums had healed, and he could hear his aunt speaking. “You should see yourself. There’s blood coming from your eyes and ears, and when you open your mouth you look like a fish.”

His response came with a thick lisp, as his tongue was still returning to its normal size. “That was worse than I expected.”

That turned out to be the worst part of the journey. Over the next half hour, they passed through four other planes, one of which had them underwater for more than ten minutes. Will was able to handle that one easily with a water-breathing spell, and the other three planar shifts were merely annoying in comparison.

The last part of their journey through Faerie was familiar to him, and Tailtiu stopped before they got too close to the last congruence point that would take him home. They were on a grassy plain again, close to the cave that was the goddamn cat’s lair within Faerie. “I can go no farther,” his aunt told him.

Will nodded. “I’ll call you when I’m ready, and we can meet here. I hope it will be just a day or two.”

She nodded, but when Will turned to go, Tailtiu spoke once more. “I should warn you.”

He looked back, his expression questioning.

“My stepfather is planning something.”

Stepfather? Will was confused for a moment. Oh, Elthas, the Forest Lord. “What does it involve?” he asked.

“I don’t know, and if I did, I have a feeling he would forbid me to tell you,” she replied.

“You have debts to him?”

She nodded. “Even more than those that Mother traded you.”

“None of them bind you anymore, though,” Will pointed out.

“He isn’t aware,” said Tailtiu. “However, defying a debt to one of my people isn’t a thing to consider.”

He raised one brow. “But it doesn’t bother you to do so with me?”

“Your lifespan is limited. In the end, you are only human,” she answered sincerely. “I am also aware that you are unlikely to seek to redress my wrongs against you. My people are different. Even if I can break the fundamental rules of my existence, they cannot. Were I to refuse to honor a debt, they would never rest until the payment had been made.”

“Would they kill you?”

“Only if I was lucky,” she replied. “My kind have different views on punishment. Betraying my stepfather would merit the worst torment, for as long as my people continue to exist.”

Will’s eyes widened. “Forever?”

Tailtiu nodded. “Interesting, isn’t it? Since our last conversation regarding good and evil, right and wrong, and my newfound freedom, I’ve done a lot of thinking. Before my change, I envied your kind their freedom. It seemed to me that one could do anything if you weren’t bound by iron rules, but now I’m beginning to understand that that really isn’t the case. I have some small choices I can make now—teasing you, or refusing your commands—but in all my choices that matter, nothing has changed. Mother says I’m an abomination, but in reality, my freedom is little more than a cruel illusion.”

He was shocked by the depth of her thought on the matter. Will had never considered his aunt to be a particularly serious thinker, but once again she surprised him. Years before, he would have been silent, unable to respond, but those days were long gone. His own experiences and trials had given him strong opinions on the topic. “Don’t make light of what you’ve gained. It’s true that often our choices seem insignificant, or too limited to have any meaning, but don’t be fooled. Your ability to choose still exists, whether you exercise it or not.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think you really understand—”

“No,” he interrupted. “I do understand. I’ve been there several times now. The night I discovered where the vampires were keeping you put such a choice in front of me. I didn’t reasonably expect to win. Deep down, I knew trying to rescue you was pointless and that I would wind up dying for nothing. My friends who came with me made similar choices.”

“But you overcame them,” countered Tailtiu. “The only mistake was your belief that it was hopeless. My situation is different.”

Will shook his head. “Even if I had died, my choice mattered.”

She laughed. “You’re mad.”

“No. Think of it like the rules that used to bind you. Humans aren’t trapped by such arbitrary rules, but sometimes we make our own. One of the choices I decided to make was to not abandon my friends and family, even if it will cost me everything. It might not make sense to you, but it’s my choice and I’ll stand by it.”

Tailtiu remained still after he finished, as though she was considering his words, but then she laughed. “Your choice is stupid. Fortunately, sick though I am, I have the wisdom to choose intelligently, even if that means my freedom is limited.” Reaching out, she took Dinner from Will’s hands, then lifted him to her face and sniffed the puppy’s round belly. “This is one of the few things I am free to choose.”

Her mouth widened, and rows of needle-like teeth appeared. She paused then, studying her small canine snack, then pulled the little dog away from her lips. Her mouth closed, and her head returned to normal. “I am also logical enough to wait until my meal has grown.” She tucked the pup into the crook of her arm and turned away. “I will await your call.”

Will breathed a sigh of relief. She was bluffing, he told himself, but in reality he wasn’t sure. He lifted a hand to wave as he walked away, heading for the cave and the congruence point that would take him to his mother’s house.

Chapter 54

Erisa was out in front of the house when Will walked around from behind. She was bent over and busily working at a washboard that was half submerged into a wooden tub. To avoid startling her, Will made a wide circle and approached from a direction that would allow her to spot him moving before he got close.

She looked up, and as recognition dawned on her face, it quickly transformed into a question. “William? How? Why are you here?” Her hands released the dress she was holding, and it slipped back into the water. “The war can’t be over already, can it? Did something happen?”

“I’m fine. The war is almost won,” said Will, moving over and reaching into the water. He moved his hands around and collected all the items floating inside and then removed them and piled them into the basket his mother reserved for items that were ready to be wrung out. Another basket stood beside it, holding the rest of the washing that still needed to go into the tub. With a thought, he used Selene’s Solution and in less than a minute all of it was both clean and dry.

His mother had seen the spell used before, so she expected his action. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged. “I’m sure you will have lots of questions, so I bet you don’t mind me freeing up your afternoon.”

She smiled, then asked, “What’s wrong? I can see something is bothering you.”

Will glanced around. “Where’s Sammy and Uncle Johnathan?”

“Branscombe. Johnathan had a new wagon to deliver, and Samantha needed a diversion to keep her out of trouble, so she went with him.”

A tiny amount of his worry lifted. He wouldn’t have to tell them—yet. His mother still remained, and she had been very attached to her nephew, but perhaps he could wait and tell her on another occasion. It made no sense to tell her now, while the others were away. The news would have to be delivered twice. Plus it wouldn’t do for her to hear it while alone. Will would have to leave almost as soon as he’d gotten there, so—

“Talk to me, William. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “I’m just worried. Things have gone well. We’ve defeated the Darrowan armies, the Patriarch is dead, and all that’s left is to capture Myrsta, but we’re facing an incursion of demons. That’s why I’m here. I need to borrow Arrogan’s old lab again.”

His mother blinked, then moved to study him from a slightly different angle. “And what about Eric? How is he doing?”

“I haven’t seen him,” said Will. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to fraternize, so I’ve kept my distance—”

“Was he injured?” she asked, cutting through his attempt at circumlocution.

“He’s fine.” The words left his mouth even as his brain registered horror at the lie. She’d asked him directly and he’d still lied. There would be hell to pay later.

Or sooner. Erisa’s hand caught him across the cheek hard enough to leave a red print there. He’d seen it coming, but apparently even his reflexes were smart enough to know to stay out of family matters. “Let’s forget you said that and start over,” she told him firmly. “Is he dead, or badly hurt?”

Since learning of Eric’s death, Will hadn’t been able to cry. He’d gotten a little sentimental with Selene, but his grief hadn’t reached the surface. It had remained stubbornly buried. The pain of his mother’s slap made his eyes water, and as he answered her question the emotions trapped within him began to spill over. “He’s dead, Mom. He’s dead and it’s my fault.”

Her arms went around him, and nothing more was said for some time. The embrace was awkward due to the breastplate and mail he wore, but Erisa didn’t complain. After the first wave had passed, she helped him remove the breastplate, then suggested, “Let’s go into the house.”

And so, they did. Will’s mother put the kettle on the stove while he removed his mail and gambeson, and then they talked. Erisa remained calm throughout, though as the conversation progressed, Will broke down several more times.

Without the armor, her hugs were considerably more comforting, and eventually Will felt a little better. He couldn’t breathe through his nose, and his eyes felt red and swollen, but the pressure in his chest seemed to have lessened. His mother had teared up a few times, but hadn’t really cried the same way that he had. “I thought it would be worse for you than me,” he remarked to her.

Erisa dabbed at her eyes with a towel once more. “Did you cry when you found out?” she asked.

“No.”

“Sometimes it’s like that,” she responded, then she held up the towel. “Even these tears weren’t for Eric, they were for you.”

“But you loved him as much as I did,” argued Will.

“I can see your pain right now, and no mother can watch her child suffer without suffering as well.” She stared at the floor with a blank expression. “Eric doesn’t feel real to me, not yet. When it does—well, you don’t get to my age without losing people. It won’t be easy. I’ll probably break down when I have to tell Johnathan and Sammy.”

“You shouldn’t have to do that. It’s my responsibility.”

She held up her hand. “Family is family. They won’t be back for days, and I’m sure you won’t be here by then, will you?”

It was his turn to stare at the floorboards. He shook his head, then suggested, “You could wait…”

“In my experience, that is almost always a mistake, which is why I tried to slap some sense into you outside,” she responded. “Pain is pain, and it won’t get any better if I hide it from them. They’ll just be hurt more by my lack of trust and honesty. Remember that.”

He nodded. “I will, Mom.”

“Do you have time to eat? Will you be spending the night?”

“I’m hungry. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying, though. That will depend on the trolls,” he answered.

“How about some honeyed oatcakes and milk?”

That had been one of his favorites since childhood. “You have milk?”

“Johnathan bought a cow. Things have been looking up around here,” she told him. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes. Thanks, Mom.”

Will watched his mother bustling about and quietly wondered when she had gotten so small. Erisa had a strong personality and unshakeable confidence, necessary traits for a midwife dealing with people during some of the most trying moments of their lives. Consequently, she had always seemed bigger than she really was when he’d been a child. Fully grown and having been through plenty of adversity himself, Will now saw his mother more as she truly was: kind, loving, small, and perhaps more fragile than he had ever realized.

There was also strength there. Erisa hadn’t raised him on her own in the face of her parents’ opposition without being strong-willed. The contrast of strength and vulnerability brought a fresh ache to his heart. Eric had seemed impossibly healthy and as strong as any man could hope to be, yet he had died. In the chaotic world Will lived in, Erisa could die in an instant—like a candle flame in a strong wind.

And she’s probably going to, if the goddamn cat is right, he thought dourly. He doesn’t think I have much of a chance.

He still hadn’t told anyone about the Cath Bawlg’s warning. Keeping secrets from Selene and his mother wasn’t easy, but with so much going on it had been easier than usual. His grief over Eric’s death forestalled any deeper probing into his melancholy. Besides, the secret didn’t hurt anyone. They might as well have hope.

There was a chance, after all.

Which reminded him of another question. Rising to his feet, Will went outside to ask Arrogan a question. He activated the limnthal. “There’s two third-order wizards now.”

“You already told me she survived,” said Arrogan petulantly.

“She’s absorbing more turyn now. She can use magic.”

For once, his grandfather didn’t bother with sarcasm. “Congratulations are in order then.”

“There’s one last thing I need to do for her,” said Will.

The old man already knew what he meant. “The limnthal. I recorded instructions and hid them away.”

“Where?”

“In my workshop.”

Will frowned. “I’ve seen every inch of it. There’s no place you could have hidden it.”

The ring snickered. “It’s in the ethereal plane, the northwest corner of the room. I dug a hole there—on the other side. You’ll find a lockbox, but don’t try to open it with the usual unlocking spell.”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t locked. The lock is a tricky illusion. If you try to use a spell to unlock it, the whole thing will blow up in your face. Just ignore the illusion and open it with your hands. There’s a book inside. Ignore that. The instructions for the limnthal are on a folded piece of parchment underneath the book.”

“What’s in the book?”

“Things better forgotten.” After a long pause, the ring continued, “I know you’re going to look anyway, sooner or later. Make it later. There’s nothing there that will help you. Wait a few years and then look. You’ll understand better then.”

“Understand what?” asked Will in frustration.

“That it’s easier to destroy than to preserve, and that both of those are far easier than creation. Some magic should never be used.”

“Says the man who wiped out a generation of wizards.”

“And yet I never touched those spells,” said Arrogan rebuking him. “Neither did my teacher.”

“Aislinn.”

“I don’t think she kept the memory of those magics. Even before what happened to her, she was too smart for that.”

“Huh?”

“The first spell in the book must be used to read the rest. At the end, a key has to be used, otherwise the first spell wipes the knowledge from your mind. As far as I know, none of the keepers have ever chosen to retain their memory of the contents. We just remember the decision.”

“Who wrote the book?”

Arrogan chuckled. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t make any sense,” complained Will.

“Just look at the notes on the limnthal that I left you. You can explore the book later when times aren’t so turbulent. The contents would take far too long for you to digest them in the limited time you have right now.”

“Will?” Erisa’s voice came from the interior of the house.

Will deactivated the limnthal. It was time to enjoy the honeyed oatcakes.

Chapter 55

Clegg said nothing, staring back at Will without any discernable expression. Not that Will considered himself a great authority on troll facial expressions. Trolls were utterly alien. They had only one gender and only one orifice, their mouths, which did double duty for both ingestion and excretion. Trolls were humanoid in that they had two arms, two legs, and a head, but the similarities didn’t extend much beyond that.

There was a bit of variability in their size and appearance, mainly because their grey skin varied in its texture from almost smooth to rough and knobby like the bark on an oak tree. Not only did the texture vary from troll to troll, but it varied from place to place on the same troll. From what Will had learned, the pattern of rough and smooth patches was a large part of the way that trolls identified each other—that and smell.

They stood nine feet tall on average, though some were closer to ten and others barely reached eight feet in height. Their frames varied from lanky to thick and heavy, but Arrogan had assured Will that even if they were human in size and proportion, their strength would be much greater. Given their large size, though, they were immensely strong. With long legs, they could easily outrun a human athlete and were probably faster than horses as well.

Will had once been chased by them, and the only thing that had kept him from being caught was the fact that their mass made them less able to maneuver around trees and other obstacles. On an open field, he wouldn’t have had a chance. In virtually every way that mattered, trolls were physically superior to humans. Except for attractiveness, observed Will, though he supposed his opinion was subjective.

Mentally, trolls were slow learners, but given that they were effectively immortal, they had plenty of time to make up the difference. The troll chieftain, Clegg, was apparently thousands of years old, and as far as Will could tell, the ancient troll was as smart as most humans. The only real advantage humanity or other races had over trolls was the fact that trolls couldn’t use magic.

But that wasn’t much of an advantage in Muskeglun. The plane the trolls lived on had a very low ambient level of turyn, and according to what Arrogan had said, the trolls themselves didn’t possess an internal source the way humans did. Instead, their bodies generated turyn from the food they ate.

“You can take Gan,” said Clegg finally, indicating the massive troll standing next to Lrmeg on Will’s left. “He yours anyway.”

“Murra!” answered Gan enthusiastically, looking down at Will. “Gan veck Murra!”

Gan was Will’s troll child, and the term ‘Murra’ was a new troll word that Clegg had coined. It meant mother, and it was the reason for Will’s unique title, ‘Grak-Murra’ or troll-mother. When Will had last seen the troll-let roughly a year ago, the creature had been roughly the size of a tree frog. Now Gan stood more than ten feet tall and bulked larger than most of the trolls currently gathered around them. Gan was also unique in that he wore a strangely misshapen leather hat of some sort. It had a floppy brim and had a strange point on top.

“What did he say?” asked Will, directing his question to the chieftain.

Clegg laughed. “He say, Gan eat mother, but what he means is love.”

“Huh?” exclaimed Will.

Arrogan spoke up to clarify matters. “He’s only a year old. Trolls take decades to learn to speak their own tongue and the words for eat, love, and fuck are very similar. Basically, they learn the word ‘eat’ first, and later the subtler meanings arise such that they understand and start using the other two.”

“Oh.” Will turned back to Clegg. “I need more than just Gan. This is a war. I need many trolls.”

Clegg stared back, unconcerned. “So?”

“Without your help, the demons will probably destroy my world,” Will explained.

Clegg moved his head in an odd, circular motion that Will had already learned was the troll equivalent of a shrug. “So? They not come here.”

The troll chieftain was undoubtedly correct there. Muskeglun was uniquely unattractive to most other races. Not only were trolls completely useless to demonkind as sacrifices or as food, but their plane lacked ley lines. In fact, almost any invader would most likely find themselves as prey for the natives rather than the reverse.

“What can I offer you in exchange for your help?” asked Will.

“Last time wizard asked for help, my people were killed. None returned and some humans came here to hunt my people.” Clegg grinned. “They also not return home. Wise humans stop coming.”

“That’s plain truth,” agreed Arrogan. “And you can’t guarantee any of the trolls you take with you will return either. Fighting an army of demons is guaranteed to be dangerous, and if you lose, none of them will make it back.”

Will glared at the ring on his hand. “Whose side are you on?”

“The side with less stupid,” said his grandfather. “So far, that seems to be the trolls. You should have talked to me before coming here. You don’t even have a way to get them to Myrsta.”

“Tailtiu can help me—” began Will.

Arrogan cut him off. “No, she can’t. The fae don’t allow trolls in their realm. She would have told you that if you’d asked. If you think trolls are bad in the human realm, imagine how bad they might be in Faerie. There’s so much turyn there they might start multiplying without even trying—and that’s without considering whether they could be transformed into fae themselves or not.”

Well shit, thought Will. If the trolls exited through his home in Barrowden, they’d have to march all the way to Myrsta—a trip that would almost certainly take more than a week and could reasonably be expected to take two weeks or even longer. He wasn’t certain how fast trolls could march for extended periods.

Clegg spoke up, breaking his train of thought. “Myrsta is not problem with wizard to help. Payment is the problem.”

It only took Will a moment to figure out what the elder troll meant. He already knew there were other congruence points between Muskeglun and Hercynia, he just didn’t happen to know where any of the other were. Obviously, Clegg did, and one of them must be useful for getting to Darrow. But what can I offer them? Will was rich now, so one idea presented itself immediately. “I can give you as much wine or ale as you want.”

“Drink never last,” said Clegg, waving a hand dismissively. “Not worth our lives.”

“I can keep bringing it. Every week, as much as you want, for years.”

The old troll’s gaze became menacing. Leaning down, he brought one eye close to Will’s face. “Your life worth that? You trade it for wine?”

Will blanched.

“Maybe you think your life worth more, but not troll’s?”

“I’m sorry,” said Will, realizing his mistake. “My offer was offensive. I’m desperate and I can’t think of anything else, but I have to try. If there’s anything I can give you, please tell me.”

Lrmeg raised his voice, barking out a long sentence in troll. Will had learned a small amount of trollish, but not enough to understand the gist of his meaning. “What did he say?” he whispered to the ring.

Arrogan whispered back, “That the demons are weak and they should take the wine. He thinks Clegg is being too cautious.”

Clegg rebuked the senior troll, then turned his attention back to Will. “Life for a life.”

Unsure where the chieftain was going, Will nodded hesitantly. “That’s true.”

The ancient troll stared at him with an evil gleam in his eye. “No, Grak-Murra—this is the trade. You pay a life for each troll.”

“You want me to trade humans to you? I can’t do that,” protested Will.

Clegg laughed, then pointed at Will’s troll son. “Gan very smart.”

The ring exclaimed loudly, “That’s disgusting!”

Still confused, Will asked the ring, “What does he mean?”

Before Arrogan could respond, Clegg answered for himself. “Troll children are more than their father. They receive blessings from the flesh that make them.” He pointed at Gan once more. “Gan knows many words for young troll child. Wizard smart, Gan is smart. See hat?”

Will stared at Gan and finally understood the meaning of the troll’s odd headwear. It’s a makeshift wizard hat. At the same time, he realized what Clegg wanted in exchange for troll warriors to fight against the demons. His stomach turned over, and he fought to keep from expelling the oatcakes he had eaten just an hour ago.

For once, even the ring didn’t laugh. “By the Mother! You know what he’s talking about, don’t you, Will?”

He tried to swallow, which was difficult because his mouth had gone dry. “Yeah.”

“Screw the world,” said Arrogan. “I say find a new one. I can help you with that. You can get Selene and Erisa and whoever else you want to save and take them somewhere safe. Nobody will blame you.”

“How good are troll warriors?” asked Will. “Do you think they could take on a demon-lord?”

“Absolutely horrifying in battle, and no,” replied Arrogan. “Although it would be fun to watch.”

Clegg smiled, baring a mouth full of sharp teeth. “If no wizards, no fire, trolls kill anything, fae, demon, elf, man, or beast.” He poked a long claw into Will’s chest. “You stop magic, troll kill anything.”

“How many do you think we need?” asked Will. At the same time, he was mentally working out the mechanics. Calves, thighs, upper arms—that would be six. Ten would be better, though. Maybe two per thigh and calf?

“You’re serious?” exclaimed the ring.

Will deactivated the limnthal. “Just to be clear. You’re sending adult trolls, not the new ones, right?”

“Yes,” said Clegg. “Lrmeg and Gan will go for free. Other troll warriors will go, one life for one warrior.”

He felt remarkably calm, although he was beginning to notice a faint tremor in one leg. Damn, this is going to hurt. “I’ll need to drink first—no, scratch that. I’ll need to get some medicine.” Will was pretty sure his mother would have tincture of poppies. He just needed to borrow it without letting her know the reason.

Chapter 56

Three days of travel through the endless swampland of Muskeglun had put Will in a foul mood. Fortunately, he didn’t have to walk, but his current mount stunk worse than any he’d ever had before. He looked over Gan’s shoulder and wondered how fast they were moving. The troll’s long legs ate up the miles with deceptive ease. He just smells so bad.

For his part, Gan seemed quite happy to be carrying Will in the makeshift basket on his back. The troll took it as an honor of sorts. Or perhaps he was simply happy to have a chance to bond with the Grak-Murra.

Lrmeg walked alongside them, and ten other troll warriors followed in their wake. Will shuddered when he remembered how he had gained the exceptional entourage. The tincture of poppies had helped, but it hadn’t been enough to stop the pain completely. He’d decided to produce the lives that Clegg wanted all at once, and initially it hadn’t been as bad as he’d expected.

The trolls had been surprisingly civilized about the whole thing, perhaps because Will was the first human to ever volunteer. They’d cut the samples off and allowed him to place them under his skin wherever he chose. That part wasn’t too painful, ten small cuts, mostly on his thighs, calves, and arms.

Much worse was the removal after five or six hours. While he would have preferred to have his mother’s skilled hands do the cutting, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. Instead he’d told her that the trolls wanted the tincture and that he would be leaving via another exit from Muskeglun.

Will had taken out a regeneration potion and talked things over with Clegg well before taking an exceptionally large dose of the poppy tincture. The chieftain had assured him he would cut carefully and that he would able to manage the job without letting Will bleed to death before giving him the potion.

And Clegg had lived up to his promise.

Will was still alive, physically unscarred, though he was sure he would have nightmares in the future. It had hurt like hell, even despite the medicine, but he’d been through worse. Being whipped was definitely worse, and the vampires were even worse than that, he decided. Eventually, he figured he would rank it as the third-worst experience of his life, or possibly the fourth. Sacrificing the Duchess Arenata might have been worse, even though it didn’t hurt me physically.

The longer he thought about it, the more terrible things he remembered, and before long he wasn’t sure if it even belonged in the top ten. “What does that say about my life?” he muttered aloud.

Lrmeg looked over at him and uttered something in trollish.

Will didn’t even bother getting Arrogan to translate. Trollish was a fairly straightforward language. He’d learned a bit during his previous two visits, as well as some minor studying in between, but the past two days had done wonders for his vocabulary. He wouldn’t be discussing abstract concepts or philosophy any time soon, but he could manage simple questions and statements. Lrmeg had merely asked what he was saying.

Rather than try to answer, Will simply asked a question in trollish. “How far?”

Lrmeg’s answer was equally simple. “Soon.”

Will sighed. He’d known that already. Clegg had told him that the trip was roughly three days (by troll), but he had hoped that Lrmeg would have a more specific answer now that they were getting close.

Two hours later and Will woke from a semi-doze when he heard an exclamation from one of the trolls. Looking ahead, his eyes came into focus and he saw a strange pile of heavy, moss-covered boulders. Given that all he’d seen for the past few days was stagnant water, tall trees, and heavy underbrush, the stone stood out. There was nothing like them in the vicinity, and they were piled up to a height of twenty feet. They were obviously a deliberate marker.

He wondered why the trolls had marked this congruence point but not the one closest to their village, but he didn’t trust his skill with trollish enough to try and ask the question of Lrmeg. Maybe they only mark the ones far enough away that they might be forgotten, he hypothesized. Maybe he would ask Arrogan or Clegg about it someday—if he survived the coming conflict.

The trolls stopped, and Will found the telltale shimmer of the congruence point after only a few seconds of searching. Again, he wanted to ask more questions of Lrmeg, but his language skills probably weren’t up for the task. Clegg had told him that the congruence point hadn’t been used in a long time, but that could mean almost anything when talking to a troll whose age was measured in thousands of years.

All Will knew for sure was that it should take them to the southern marshes in Darrow. The southern marsh was formed by the delta where the River Myrs, which flowed from the central hills of Darrow, let out into the Central Sea. Depending on exactly where the congruence point opened, they would probably have a day’s travel north to reach the capital itself.

A day by horse, Will corrected himself mentally. Given the incredible stamina of the trolls, it was possible that their ordinary travelling pace would get them there faster. They just had to follow the river upstream until they found the river road, and it should be an easy trip from there.

He would be eternally grateful to get out of Muskeglun. The endless swamp had begun to erode his morale, in part because the lack of ambient turyn was exhausting, but also because of the persistent heat. And the mosquitos, Will observed, who could forget the goddamn mosquitos?

Will had never brought a group of people through a congruence point before, much less a group of trolls, so he decided to experiment a little. He took Gan across first, then went back for Lrmeg and one of the others. He put his hand on Lrmeg but just had the other troll stand close by. Only Lrmeg crossed with him, so on his next crossing he had the ten remaining trolls hold hands in a circle, with Will forming one of the links.

Trying to get ten nightmarish trolls to hold hands like schoolchildren threatened to give Will a bad case of the giggles. His language skills were barely up to the task, and the trolls obviously thought his request was strange, but after a series of odd looks, they complied. This time, all the trolls crossed over.

That answers one question, Will noted. Physical contact is required to bring someone else across. Even as he thought that, however, he found himself breathing deeply in a purely emotional response to the clear, fresh air of Hercynia. A week in the fetid stench of Muskeglun had nearly been too much for him.

The influx of ambient turyn was also a great relief. During his most recent time in the troll plane, he had discovered that he no longer needed to refresh himself with elixir of turyn nearly as often as he had the previous time—apparently his body’s efficiency at surviving on very little turyn had improved—but even so, he had burned through most of the stockpile of turyn elixirs he had saved up during the previous year. He’d had to drink one roughly every three hours to remain functional.

The southern marsh in Darrow was somewhat similar to Muskeglun, but it felt much better to him. The air was cleaner, the turyn much thicker, and the mosquitos less of a problem. The mosquito improvement was mainly because he no longer had to conserve his magic, so a pest-repelling spell was the first thing Will did after arriving.

Although he’d thought that choosing their direction of travel would be simple, it turned out that the water in the marsh didn’t move enough for him to figure out which way the sea or the river lay. If it had been a cloudy day that might have been a problem, but since he could see the sun and knew the time of day, he was able to figure out which way was northwest.

They traveled the rest of the day, not stopping until night fell. Though trolls didn’t tire easily, they did need sleep, as well as food. The latter was something Will worried about, for his allies’ prodigious physical strength and stamina was sustained by an equally prodigious appetite. In Muskeglun they satisfied their hunger by hunting the vast and prolific fauna that seemed to be everywhere, but they had eaten everything they carried with them two days ago.

They’d eaten every bit of the stored food Will kept in the limnthal the next day. Today they’d gone hungry and, in the morning, they would need to hunt. Lrmeg had been unbending in his description of how important it was that they eat, and Arrogan had reinforced the opinion when Will had asked him about it later.

“It’s the same with people,” said Arrogan. “You’re just a few meals away from desperation. Trolls have bigger bodies, and they use a lot of energy. You’ve already seen that they’re fairly civilized most of the time, but you don’t want to see them when they’re hungry. Speaking of which—I hope you’ve given some thoughts to the dangers of bringing trolls into Hercynia.”

“I have,” said Will, “but I couldn’t do much about them, other than telling myself we would have to be careful.”

“Careful isn’t a word you can associate with war. Chaos is, and in the chaos it’s easy to miss things—like a piece of troll getting sliced off and left behind.”

“If it happens, it still isn’t an instant catastrophe,” observed Will.

“Young trolls aren’t like the ones going into battle with you.”

“I don’t know,” said Will. “Gan is barely a year old and he seems very well behaved.”

“He takes after his mommy,” said Arrogan with a snicker. “But in all seriousness, Clegg wasn’t exaggerating. Gan is a troll prodigy—most of them can’t talk at his age. If you cut a few pieces off of these trolls with you and leave them laying around, they won’t turn out like your troll love-child.”

Will winced. “Can you stop saying that?”

“What? Love-child? Should I call him a bastard, like you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just being rude.”

“You’re the one who went back and made ten more,” said Arrogan. “I’ve long thought you might turn into a name for the history books.”

“Like you, the Betrayer?” asked Will sarcastically.

“Better than Troll-fucker,” snapped his mentor.

“Stop! That’s not even how it happened,” protested Will.

Arrogan didn’t relent, though. “Don’t lecture me. I know very well how baby trolls are made.”

“I’m going to be sick if you keep that up,” said Will. “I made sure it wasn’t done the usual way. Clegg collected the pieces, and I made the cuts and placed them in. It wasn’t anything disgusting like you’re thinking.”

The ring made gagging noises. “Now I’m going to be sick.”

“How did we wind up on this subject anyway?” asked Will.

“Oh! I was warning you about troll offspring. So, if you leave pieces of these trolls laying around on the battlefield, they’ll turn into little feral troll beasties in a matter of days. If they’re from small pieces, they will have little to no memory of their original larger selves, and as they eat and grow, they won’t have the guidance of other trolls to teach them anything. They can reach full size in a few weeks if they find enough food, but they’ll be entirely uneducated. We’re talking about powerful, dangerous, nearly unstoppable killing machines with an animal cunning that will grow to near human-like intelligence over the span of several years.”

“Still doesn’t sound as bad as the vampire plague we were worried about last time around,” offered Will.

“You’re right about that. It wouldn’t be as likely to get out of control, but you could still have years of wild trolls killing and pillaging through the countryside until they were all eventually found and burned. After this war is done, you’ll need to have the areas where these trolls have fought carefully searched. In fact, it’s yet another reason you have to win. If you lose, the victor isn’t likely to clean everything up.”

“If I lose, the world ends, remember?”

“Pfftt! Judging by past examples, it will take the demons a century or two to finish their work here. Plenty of time for future heroes to rise and finish what your idiot ass failed to do. Let’s not make it harder for them by giving them wild trolls to worry about on top of the demon invasion.”

Will thought about that for a minute, then asked, “What do you really think of my chances?”

The ring didn’t say anything for a while. “They’re better than zero.”

“That’s it?”

“Your plan is solid, though we both know plans don’t last long in battle, but you were smart enough to keep it open-ended and flexible. Even so, it all comes down to you and these trolls at the end. Demon-lords are more than just extremely powerful, magically potent, physical juggernauts. They’re also very old and cunning. Madrok is their leader, so it goes without saying he’s got sharp wits and millennia of experience.”

“I’ll have a new spell as well,” Will reminded.

“There’s always a new spell,” said his grandfather. “As far as I know, no one has ever tried it the way you’re thinking, but that doesn’t mean much. Madrok has lived many times longer than I did. It all boils down to you beating him in three ways. You have to be potent enough to stop his magic, your allies need to be strong enough to fight him to a standstill, and then you have to be smarter than him. I think you have a chance with the first two, but the last one—that’s expecting a miracle.”

Will drew a deep breath, then let it out dramatically. “Damn. I’m just filled with hope after hearing that.”

“Sorry. I call them as I see them,” said Arrogan. “Maybe I’m an asshole, but you won’t ever be able to accuse me of blowing smoke up your ass.”

“I guess that’s why I appreciate your advice,” said Will. He deactivated the limnthal and then switched his focus to the heart-stone enchantment that linked him to Selene. Seconds later, her face appeared in front of him.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

He gave her a look that Arrogan would have been proud of. “Exactly where we discussed. I couldn’t contact you while I was in Muskeglun.”

A fire appeared in her eyes, but Selene didn’t vent her ire at his waspish response. As usual, she was better than that. “It’s ready,” she replied, her tone cool and businesslike.

“Already?”

She nodded. “Janice was a considerable help. She’s extremely knowledgeable.”

Will smiled as he agreed, “She’s smart as a whip and talented to boot.”

“And beautiful,” added Selene, her tone neutral.

Uh oh. He gave her an innocent look. “How did I get in trouble while I’m away and you’re with her? Plus, she’s in love with Tiny.”

Selene pointed at her eyes, then at him, but she cracked a smile at the end. “You’re lucky I trust you, especially since you conveniently sent Laina back to Klendon.” Then she switched subjects. “Did things go well with the trolls?”

He tried not to wince and forced a smile instead. “There’s twelve with me now. We’re southeast of you and traveling as fast as we can. I think we can be there in two days or less.”

“Twelve—is that enough?”

“It was the most I could negotiate for,” he prevaricated. It was a small lie. In truth, he’d considered trying for double that number, but after the first round of excisions he couldn’t bring himself to repeat the process.

Her eyes narrowed. “You sound strained. What did you have to promise for their help?”

“I’ll explain later,” said Will. “Suffice to say, I’ve already paid for their assistance, so there’s no debt hanging over my head.”

She never looked away. “You’d better be telling the truth.” Then, before he could make excuses, she continued, “Things are bad here.”

“How bad?”

“Mark’s here now, and we’re close to Myrsta, but the demons have been out in force.”

“What does that mean?”

Selene glanced down, then back up again. “They’ve been sending out warbands, raiding the surrounding areas.”

“Warbands? Why would they raid? They can just wait for the spell-engine to do its work.”

“Your father thinks they’re doing it for multiple reasons. The demons get information about what’s going on in the area, and they simultaneously create fear and chaos. Mark thinks they’re also trying to keep us from organizing effectively.”

“How big are these warbands?” asked Will.

“Big. Hundreds, sometimes thousands of demons,” said Selene. “I would have called them armies, but your father says they’re too disorganized to deserve the name. We fought and eliminated two groups as we approached Myrsta. We’re trying to encircle the city now, so we can stop them from terrorizing the farms and villages in the area.”

Will nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. They’re our people now. We should help them.”

“They’re helping us,” countered Selene. “Several smaller units of the former Darrowan army have joined us since discovering that you recruited their marshal.”

“Maybe the lords will understand what I was trying to do now,” said Will. “If we had taken a hard line with the locals, we wouldn’t have any help now.”

Selene pursed her lips. “Just so you know, I never disagreed with your philosophy. Even so, I’m not sure it will be enough. Mark is under a lot of stress.”

He frowned. Will had never seen any sign of weakness in the veneer of calm control that always concealed his father’s true emotions. “Is he all right?”

She nodded. “For now, but I can tell he’s worried. He’s afraid that encircling the capital will spread our forces too thin, that that’s what the demons want. He’s also worried something will happen to you before you return.”

“He should know better than that.”

“Should he?” she asked. “Despite what you think, he’s just a man, Will. I know you have your reasons, but you’ve always been too hard on him.”

Will gaped at her.

“I’m serious. You give him too much credit for the image he presents. Maybe he projects strength and confidence, but he’s only human. That’s how he was raised. Underneath, he’s struggling. We’re facing a demon invasion and you’re not here, so he’s left holding the bag and he knows he can only hold it together for so long before everything comes apart.”

“Did he say that?” asked Will.

“No, Will. Pay attention. I’m translating for you. That’s how he feels inside. It’s what he won’t say, not to me, not to anyone.”

“Damn,” said Will. “You’re doing better than me if you can tell all that from just looking at him. I usually draw a blank.”

“You’re too close.”

“We aren’t close at all,” said Will.

She sighed. “No, you’re too invested. He’s your father, and you’ve got a lot of strong emotions tied to him. That’s why you can’t see him clearly.”

He couldn’t really argue with that. Before he could agree, Selene surprised him with another revelation. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you before you went to find the trolls, but after you left Cerria, I started a full audit of your accounts. You’ll never guess what I found.”

The change of subjects confused him. Will stared at her for a moment before replying, “Money?”

She sighed. “I found a particular transaction not long after you were granted title to the Arenata estate. You made a large donation to the Mothers of Terabinia in the amount of five thousand six hundred and thirty-five gold crowns.”

“I did?” Now he was even more confused.

“No, dummy,” she said, exasperated. “You didn’t. That’s the point. Doesn’t that number sound familiar?”

It did. Frowning, he asked, “Wasn’t that the amount that someone left for the Doster family to find? The assassination money?”

She nodded.

“Are you saying someone in your charity wants me dead?”

Selene rolled her eyes. “There are only a few people with access to the charity accounts.”

Will squinted at her suspiciously. “Are you sure none of them are out to get me?”

“I can assure you that neither I nor Laina wants you truly dead, though you do have your moments.”

“Oh.” That set him back. “The two of you can’t be the only ones with access, though.”

“You’re right, but the fact is that the money was never received. I checked the books myself. The log entry in your account book was fraudulent.”

“So, who did it?”

She smiled. “I took it all the way to the Royal Bank and insisted on seeing their records. The coin was paid out of your account and the log entry in their book was obviously forged. Such a large sum would require the approval of one of the bank’s senior directors, but none of them signed it. That leaves us with only a few possibilities.”

Will was tired of the game and wished she would just give him the answer, but he continued to play along. “Which are?”

“Only the bank chairman or the deputy chairman could get access to those books and authorize such a sum be released without being forced to put his name on it. Even then it would probably cause rumors that would reach my father’s ears.”

He whistled. “You think the king gave approval for it?”

“Or simply turned a blind eye,” said Selene. “That’s very much his style. I would bet everything that it was either the chairman or the deputy chairman who actually hatched the plan. Both of them are senior officers and greater peers of the realm.”

“Who?” he demanded, tired of waiting.

She told him, and Will felt a shock go through him. “That can’t be right. One is impossible and the other—I trust him! He wouldn’t.”

Selene shook her head sadly. “It could have been either of them. Think about it. There’s nothing we can do right now; Lustral is dead and the other can’t be confronted until later.”

He gave her a dour look. “Thanks. How am I supposed to sleep? I’ll be turning this over in my head all night.”

“This will keep your brain busy,” she announced, holding up a sheet of parchment covered in neat writing with a tidy diagram in the center.

The spell looked complicated, but less so than Will had expected. “Is it sixth-order?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I thought it would be harder.”

Selene smiled. “The first version was eighth-order, maybe more, but there were several repetitive sections.” She pointed to one part of the spell formula. “See here? I routed it back to this portion twice to keep it shorter and more efficient.”

Will had to study it for a minute to get a feel for what she had done, then he whistled in appreciation. “You really are the best,” he told her.

“Get your journal out,” she replied, cheeks glowing. “You should start learning it now.”

“I’ll be using it beforehand,” said Will. “And I could keep a backup prepared if need be.”

Selene’s expression was firm. “Write it down and start learning it. I’m not taking chances. If something goes wrong and you have to cast it on the fly, I want you to know how to do so.”

He wanted to argue, but she was right. “I’ll start memorizing it before I sleep tonight.” Will summoned his journal and began transcribing the page she held up. “Aren’t you tired?” he asked as his pen moved.

She nodded. “A little, but I’m absorbing turyn much faster now. It gets better every day. Before long, I’ll be able to use magic as easily as I did before.”

Will’s pen stopped while he stared at her for a few seconds, admiring her inner determination, as well as her outer beauty. How did I get so lucky?

“What are you doing?” she asked, noticing his pause.

He resumed writing. “Nothing,” he replied, hiding a smile.

Chapter 57

The next day, they came to the end of the marshes. They’d already found the river and once they began following the river, they soon found the road. The trolls were beginning to slow down considerably though, and Lrmeg complained constantly of hunger.

Will knew from experience that human soldiers could last days without food. Water wasn’t negotiable, but food wasn’t nearly as critical an issue. They wouldn’t be happy, but they could march, and they could fight. Trolls were not the same. They had only been one full day without food and already they were sluggish and irritable.

When they came across a flock of sheep grazing near the road, Will lost control of them. He protested that they should wait for him to find the shepherd and negotiate a price, but his complaints fell on deaf ears. In less than ten minutes half the flock was gone, each troll having devoured two or three entire sheep—fur, bones, skin, and hooves. They ate the animals without leaving anything behind.

The rest of the flock scattered in terror, and Will saw no sign of a shepherd. He felt terrible about what had happened, since losing such a large portion of a flock would be a devastating blow to the owner. Summoning a travel-disk, Will scouted the nearby area and eventually found a house, but though there were signs of recent habitation he couldn’t find anyone in the vicinity.

They might have been killed or driven off by recent events in the area, or perhaps they’d seen the trolls. He couldn’t be certain. Feeling bad, he left several gold marks on a table and returned to his now-sated companions.

Their energy returned soon afterward, and the trolls once more began traveling at speed. Now that he was in more familiar terrain, Will was able to make a better guess at how quickly they were traveling. Though the trolls weren’t running, moving at a brisk pace with their long legs propelled them along at a pace similar to that of a horse moving at a trot.

The big difference was that horses couldn’t keep up that sort of speed all day long, but the trolls did. Will imagined that if they were running, they could probably catch all but the fastest of horses, and even if they couldn’t match a racehorse for speed, they’d quickly run it into the ground with their incredible endurance. Arrogan was right, thought Will, these things would be a nightmare if they got loose and started multiplying in our world.

While they traveled, Will took advantage of the time and studied the spell Selene had given him. He’d gone over it a few times the night before and he felt he was close to having it fully memorized, so he began working on forming the construct while studying his notes. The jostling motion of the basket he rode in made it more challenging, but he accepted that difficulty as an opportunity—if he had to construct the spell while fighting, he’d probably have worse distractions.

He wished he could complete the construct and use it, to test it out, but that wasn’t practical. If it worked properly, it wouldn’t be safe to use anywhere near friends or allies. Or even near myself, he thought somberly. Anyone in the vicinity would regret being there—if they survived. And if Selene had made a mistake in the design, or if he mis-constructed the spell, he probably wouldn’t live long enough to even know it had gone wrong. He wondered if there would even be enough left of him for someone to find his remains.

They kept up the ground-eating pace all day and as the sun began to set Will spotted smoke on the horizon, coming from multiple places. It wasn’t the thick clouds one might expect from a burning town, but more the small familiar wisps that came from hundreds or thousands of campfires. The army was ahead of them, though it would be hours more to reach them.

His allies didn’t complain. Will adjusted his vision for the gloom, and the trolls just kept going. Their eyes were better adapted for dim light than those of humans, since there was rarely direct sunlight in Muskeglun. The trolls weren’t nocturnal, but the light of the stars and a waning moon was more than enough for them to see by.

Will spotted the telltale turyn that marked the wards at almost the same time the trolls stopped. Lrmeg turned toward him. “Humans close.”

He nodded. “Wait here. I don’t want to cause a panic. I’ll return in an hour with food.”

Smoothing his turyn to avoid notice, Will walked forward but didn’t cross the wards when he reached them. He could have easily snuck through, but he had decided not to do so. A lot of people were waiting for him, and though he wouldn’t be able to see or meet with most of them, it would be a relief for everyone to know he had returned. The easiest way to put their worries to rest was to let his arrival be announced in the normal fashion.

Moving down the line, he found the closest set of sentries and let them see him while at the same time greeting them. They jumped slightly, but he had given them enough distance that it wasn’t too startling.

They asked several questions, and he was told to wait while one of them ran back to notify the watch captain. A few minutes later, the officer arrived with no less than a squad of soldiers. The captain inspected him carefully, being alert for illusions or other trickery before giving them the order to let him pass, and then Will was able to enter—with an escort, of course.

It took a lot longer than simply sneaking in, but Will was impressed by the adherence to protocol. Half an hour had gone by, and although he hated wasting time, he decided to take care of the trolls before returning to the command tents. “I need to see the duty quartermaster,” he announced to the captain beside him.

“Right now, sir?” asked the captain, obviously puzzled.

“Here and now,” said Will. “I returned with some unusual allies, and I need to see them fed and cared for before I do anything else.” There’s no way I’m going to relax before making sure of that. His journey had taught him an important lesson. Trolls might be great allies, but only if they were well fed. There weren’t many things he could think of that would be more disastrous than a hungry troll.

Nothing happened easily. He had to explain what he needed to several more officers before things began to happen, and even after that, he wound up having to take a group of them out to meet the trolls. It seemed like the wise thing to do.

The trolls scared the hell out of them, but it was better than having a patrol find them without warning in the middle of the night. Eventually, all the sentries and duty officers were updated and informed to prevent any disastrous misunderstandings. After that, the quartermaster found three precious cows that could be diverted to take care of their new allies’ appetites.

A crowd of senior officers had gathered at the main command tent by the time he arrived, and among them were both Mark Nerrow and Selene. Despite the fact that everyone was anxious to speak to him, they deferred to the princess and waited until she had greeted him first.

Meeting Selene with an audience watching was an odd experience. She seemed to glide forward and took both his hands in hers, almost as though they were meeting at a formal event. As they faced each other she turned her head, offering him her cheek. “I missed you,” she said audibly when he leaned forward to kiss it. More quietly, she added, “What took you so long?”

“Had to feed the trolls,” he whispered back before straightening up and smiling at her.

His father greeted him next, and soon after that an impromptu meeting began. He’d expected as much, though this one was different from those in the past since Selene was present. Though she had no formal role in the military structure, she was still the heir presumptive to the crown. A fresh place was made for her at the table, and though she said little, Will could tell that the officers were more self-conscious in her presence.

Her previous insistence that he meet the officers alone made more sense to him now. If she had come along when he had first begun meeting with them, he never would have been able to assume command. Even now, just the presence of a royal caused everyone to glance nervously in her direction before making their reports to him.

As the second in command, Sub-Marshal Nerrow gave the main summary. “We’re within three miles of the southern gates, and we’ve had no further sign of resistance from the Patriarch’s forces. In fact, the only contact we’ve had with Darrowan forces over the past two days is when some of them have come to join our coalition. We’ve seen nothing but demons leaving Myrsta, and we’ve fought several battles with such groups…”

It was a summary meant mainly for Will, as he was the only one to have missed recent events. Minutes passed as Nerrow described the situation, and eventually he got to his plans for the near future. “…our focus has been keeping the damage localized by preventing the demons from escaping into the surrounding countryside. Tomorrow we should be able to encircle the city, although the northern side of the city could be a problem if the demons are guarding the river bridges the same way we would have expected the Darrowans to do.”

Will stopped him there. “I don’t want to close the siege. Let them have the uplands. This isn’t an ordinary siege.”

Everyone looked askance at him, so Will stood and leaned over the map they had spread on the table. As maps went, it wasn’t terribly sophisticated, being merely a charcoal sketch done on a large piece of parchment. In the center was the city of Myrsta, a circle divided by a line that represented the River Myrs. The Myrs was formed by two substantial rivers that came from the central hills of Darrow and joined together half a mile before passing through a massive canal that bisected the capital. It entered on the north side through an ancient stone river gate that consisted of both iron grates and massive wooden gates that could be closed in time of war.

More importantly, the river guarded a fertile plain between the city and the hills where crops were grown, and herds of livestock were kept. Two bridges close to Myrsta gave access to the region, so any invader that wanted to lay siege to the capital needed to gain control of the area to prevent food and supplies from being brought into the city via the river.

Will explained. “We can’t starve the demons out. Their supply line extends to hell itself. To stop them, we have to either destroy the spell-engine within the city, or kill Madrok and then destroy the spell-engine. Without it, they will have to withdraw or attempt to build another. It sustains their presence in our world.”

Commander Hargast blanched at his statement. “Then what chance do we have? The enchantments on the walls and foundation of the city are so potent we have little hope of breaking them, and even if we could, there’s a black miasma over the city that will kill any man foolish enough to attempt to enter. Starvation was the only tool we had.”

Mark Nerrow spoke next. “If we don’t encircle the city, they will be free to come and go. We won’t be able to keep them from raiding the surrounding towns and villages.”

Will nodded in agreement. “Or flanking us.”

His father frowned. “So, you agree?”

He shook his head. “Even with our Darrowan reinforcements I don’t think we can safely contain them. We would be spread too thin, and since we can’t enter the city to fight them, it would be counterproductive. Giving them an easy way out might help entice them out to play.”

Commander Lambel broke in. “If they don’t need food, and we can’t enter, they might not bother. The demons can just wait inside until their spell-engine poisons the entire region and we’re forced to retreat.”

Several officers started trying to talk at once, but Selene forestalled them by leaning forward and lifting one hand quietly. The room fell silent before she addressed them. “Trolls aren’t really affected by void turyn, and neither is our marshal.” Her eyes shifted to stare at Will.

The former Darrowan Marshal, Subcommander Gravholt, was startled by the statement. “That’s why he caught the trolls?”

“Requested,” said Will. “I requested their assistance. They are our allies, not beasts or pets.” As long as we keep them fed, he thought silently.

“Exactly what do you plan?” asked Mark Nerrow. “Are you thinking you can get inside with your trolls and destroy the spell-engine on your own? That makes no sense. What of the rest of us?”

Will shook his head. “Even as powerful as the trolls are, they can’t sneak. There’s no way they could make it to the spell-engine.” He stared directly at Sub-Marshal Nerrow. “You still have the tactical rituals that Scholar Sundy brought, correct?”

His father nodded. “None of them will get past those walls, though, except the creeping death perhaps.”

“It won’t hurt the demons anyway,” said Will. “We aren’t going to use a ritual on the city, though.”

Confused and frustrated, his father started to complain, but Selene put a hand on Will’s arm. “Stop being cryptic and explain the plan so they’ll understand.”

He sighed. What was the fun of being a wizard if he couldn’t be cryptic? It’s fine when demons and fae-lords and demigods do it, but as soon as I try to have some fun everyone complains, he thought sourly. “Fine. Here’s what I plan to do…”

They were quiet and respectful until he finished, even though it took him a full ten minutes to lay out his plan. After he had finished, Sub-Marshal Nicht responded first. “I don’t think that’s possible—”

Commander Lambel interrupted him, “Remember what happened at Klendon and Maldon?”

Fulstrom closed his mouth. “Oh, yeah, that’s true.”

Sub-Marshal Nerrow waved them to silence, then focused his attention on the heir presumptive to Terabinia. “Whether it’s possible or not, are you willing to allow this plan, Your Highness?”

Selene frowned. “I am not in charge of this war, Sub-marshal.”

Mark Nerrow scowled, clearly upset. “I mean, are you fine with becoming a widow?” He pointed at Will. “If this idiot goes in there, I don’t see any way he comes out alive.”

There were several gasps around the room, both because of the way Nerrow spoke to the princess, and also because he’d called the Royal Marshal an idiot, but Will ignored all of that as he jumped to Selene’s defense. “Listen, the spell she devised will—”

“—will just as likely kill you as it will the enemy,” snapped Nerrow, finishing his sentence for him. Visibly angry, he went on, his eyes boring into the princess. “I watched you grow up, Your Highness, like you were one of my own daughters, and I never thought you’d be so cold as to agree to something like this. Does my s—does your husband mean so little that you’re willing to use him like this?”

That line resulted in an uproar. Will was on his feet, red-faced and furious, while Mark Nerrow stared back at Selene defiantly. Commander Hargast’s shout cut through the clamor, “You’ve gone too far, Lord Nerrow!”

Selene’s voice stopped them all. “Gentlemen. Sit down.” Silence fell, and after a moment they returned to their seats, though Will still glared at his father, who was still glaring defiantly at Selene. Once order had returned, she met Mark Nerrow’s gaze. “You referred to my husband as an idiot. I’ll forgive the rest, but I’ll have an apology from you for that—now.”

The sub-marshal glowered at her while she waited, but after a moment, he looked at Will and ground out the words. “I apologize for my disrespect.” Then his rebellious eyes returned to Selene.

She nodded. “That will suffice. Now for the rest—after thinking on this for the past two days, I can see no better chance for our success. I know our situation is dire, but I have faith in my husband’s ability. More to the point, you suggested I am cruel. Perhaps I am, but should he fail, I have no intention of spending the rest of my days a widow. If the worst comes, I will take up the task in his stead, and be glad to follow him to the grave.” The expression on her features dared them to argue, but no one did.

Nerrow’s face softened, his anger replaced with embarrassment, while Will watched his wife with admiration. Such an eloquent rebuttal, he thought.

But Selene had one further thing to add, her voice solemn. “My husband is not your usual idiot.” A second later, her expression cracked, and her lip curled slightly.

That broke the tension, and several of the officers began to chuckle. Will looked to her with an aggrieved expression. You just couldn’t leave off the last line, could you?

She seemed to read his mind, for her eyes twinkled with mischief as she returned his gaze.

Chapter 58

That morning, Will got his first view of the ancient city of Myrsta. It didn’t disappoint. The city was as large as Cerria, and its stonework was just as large and impressive. Long ago, when the two nations had been one, Cerria and Myrsta had been the two prize jewels of Greater Darrow.

Now Will wondered if it would be his fate to destroy that repository of history forever.

It all depends on what Madrok does, he told himself, though it was cold comfort. Relying on a demon-lord to do the right thing was a fool’s game.

He stood on a travel-disk that floated twenty feet above the ground, affording him a better view of the area. The River Myrs emerged from the center of the city, just to the right of the main southern gate. Will and his army were arranged on the same side of the river. They had adopted a tight formation, if such could be rightly said of any formation that included five divisions and close to thirty thousand soldiers.

They weren’t going to enclose the city, but rather they’d formed in a way such that they could move to attack, if necessary, or hold their ground and defend against one or more attacks from different directions. Given the size of their force, it seemed ridiculous to be wary of flanking tactics, but Will didn’t care.

Today, the combined might of Terabinia and Darrow would be serving as his decoy, but that didn’t mean they would be sitting idly by. Depending on how the day played out, they would probably be involved in some degree of fighting, and he wanted them able to minimize their losses as much as possible.

The forward line of the army stretched out more than a hundred and fifty yards both to his right and his left. The formation stretched away to the rear over three hundred yards, forming a vast, nearly square arrangement. The tight lines allowed the sorcerers to closely cover all the exterior edges. In the center, not far back from the forward line, Will’s trolls stood at the ready. Selene stood with them, both to make sure they acted when required, and to help avoid misunderstandings between the monsters and the human soldiers.

The city wall stood roughly seven hundred yards from their forward line, and Will could see a fog of black void turyn that extended from the city two hundred yards in their direction. The fog marked a no man’s zone, the boundary beyond which none of them could cross. The void turyn would poison and kill any human that entered it.

It hardly seemed fair. The demons could come to them, but the humans couldn’t do likewise. Demons could survive for considerable periods beyond the void turyn that they found comfortable, but humans were far more fragile. Will glanced at the massive troll who stood beside Selene’s charger. Though her mount was a full eighteen hands tall, Gan towered over the princess and her horse. The yearling troll held the trimmed-down remains of a young sapling he had uprooted to use as a makeshift club.

Thank the Mother for trolls, Will thought with a smile.

Farther back, closer to the center of everything, Janice and twelve of the soldier-sorcerers were gathered into a circle, prepared to do their part. Streamers of turyn were already swirling around them as they prepared their ritual. They might be called upon to use their magic with little notice.

That was the crux of it. The plan was heavy on contingencies and fairly light on actual plan. Will had devised three possible routes to victory, but the choice would depend on how the demons reacted to provocation.

The worst would be no reaction at all, but Will was fairly certain he could aggravate Madrok into doing something. In his elevated position, Will could see and be seen by nearly everyone. He held out his left hand to one side with the palm down, signaling everyone to hold but remain ready. Then he lifted his right hand to the sky and stretched out with his will, gathering the nearest threads of turyn into his control and directing them toward the black miasma over the city.

He was careful not to touch the turyn behind him, though, for fear of stripping the ritualists of the energy they needed to perform when their part came.

Will could feel the city that lay beneath the power he now influenced. It was a sensation similar to feeling one’s way through a dark but familiar room at night. It was almost like seeing, yet was still starkly different. He could make out the rough shapes of the buildings, but even if he had known the place, he probably wouldn’t have been able to label any but the largest of landmarks.

“Your time has come, Madrok. Vacate this city and this world or face the consequences.” Will’s voice thrummed across the plain and through the city in a quiet tone that was both calm and ominous.

As he exercised his will, he felt a hard knot within the city, a place unlike the rest where his control faded out, and his voice was rendered silent. It stirred as he uttered the warning, and then it began to move. That’s almost certainly Madrok himself, thought Will.

Or so he hoped. If there was a second demon there with the strength of will to overrule his control of the local magic, then his plan had already failed.

He waited, and minutes rolled by without any action from the city. After he felt enough time had passed, he spoke again. “So be it.” Then he took hold of the darkness spilling out of the city, tightening his grip all in an instant. Another will fought his, wrenching back control of most of the area within the walls, but he had enough for his purpose. A gut-wrenching crack echoed across the plain as the void turyn vanished, becoming a sound wave that slammed into the city of Myrsta.

The walls were far too strong, even without their magical protection, but the sheer magnitude of the sound shook dust from the walls and likely deafened any demon inside that was within a few hundred yards. Nothing happened, though. The army of Terabinia waited for a quarter of an hour, then thirty minutes, but nothing emerged to challenge them.

Eventually, the void turyn from the spell-engine built up once more and began to spill over the walls and onto the field again. Will waited for it to reach the volume he needed, then repeated his previous feat. A sound like the crash of a thousand thunderbolts slammed into the walls before echoing back toward the human army.

And still nothing emerged.

They waited, and when the turyn was sufficient, Will repeated his insult against the walls. An hour passed, and then another, and every half hour Will bombarded the city with a crash of thunder so great that it would have driven any mortal insane—if they were well protected enough to live through it.

The walls continued to hold, but even with all their wards, the attacks were beginning to take a toll. Some of the corbels supporting the machicolations atop the walls crumbled and fell, leaving gaps in the merlons that protected the parapets. Not that there was anyone atop the walls to be protected.

The spring air of Darrow took on a distinct chill as his magic repeatedly stole the warmth from the area immediately around the city. Frost formed on the ground, and icy patches appeared on the walls before falling to crash onto the earth below.

Just before noon, the main gate opened. The demons had had enough.

They poured out in a chaotic swarm, completely disordered and nothing like a human army. Varied forms and sizes, some as small as children, others the size of men, and some larger still. A rare few were even larger than the trolls. Their skins ranged in color and texture as well—reds, blacks, greens, and every other shade imaginable—some smooth or scaley, and others rough-skinned like coarse stone.

Given the distance, their arrival at the front line of Terabinians would take at least a minute or two, but there was no end to the demons spilling out of the gates of Myrsta. What began as a hundred became two hundred, then five hundred—and their numbers continued to grow. The gates vomited forth thousands, and once they reached some critical mass, they finally began moving toward the army waiting for them.

Though the men in the shield wall were all battle-hardened veterans, the sight of what was now charging toward them was enough to make even the bravest quake in fear. Their foes weren’t human and seemed to have no fear of the spears they charged toward. The largest of the demons swung massive iron swords that looked large enough to brush aside a wall of shields as easily as one might swat a fly.

A fearful muttering began along the line, and Will could see the soldiers shifting back and forth on their feet, struggling internally to keep themselves in position. If something didn’t change soon, they might crumble and run before the demons even reached the line. He wished he could repeat his thunderous assault against the demons, but Will had just recently exhausted the ambient turyn in front of the walls. All he could do was utter a reassurance for the soldiers. “Be at ease. They won’t reach us in that condition.”

But they had to wait. Glancing back, Will looked toward Selene and saw her nod in his direction. Then he looked past her, to Janice and the ritualists. The magic swirling around them had grown in intensity, and he had to suppress the urge to steal it away and gather it to himself. The sky above them had grown dark with heavy clouds that had turned noonday into something more akin to dusk.

Janice was already watching him, so Will lifted his right hand once more and formed a fist. She nodded and copied his gesture, her eyes never leaving him. Will turned back to the oncoming horde, judging their distance. Not yet. They were still a hundred yards away. Not yet.

Fifty yards.

Twenty.

“Now,” he commanded, bringing his fist down like a hammer toward the ground.

Apparently, some of the demons had some skill at spellcraft—for a smattering of force shields, protective earthen domes, and even swirling walls of air rose up to protect them—but it didn’t matter. Will felt he might have been able to save them, which meant Madrok could have as well, if the demon-lord had bothered to take the field.

But the demon-lord was still hiding in the city, and Will was there to witness their destruction.

The clouds above exploded with light, and a torrent of lightning bolts rained down on the field in front of the Terabinian army as though Temarah herself had decided to administer divine punishment. The soldiers had been warned, but those who forgot were temporarily blinded by the blaze of actinic light that accompanied the lightning. At the same instant, thunder shook the world, though this time it had nothing to do with Will’s abilities.

The hasty defenses the demons threw up vanished, and the vast majority of those standing between the Terabinians and the walls of Myrsta fell dead, their bodies smoking and stinking, missing arms, legs, and other miscellaneous pieces of flesh.

Some did survive, though, missed by any of the lightning strikes simply by pure chance alone. They were still stunned by the shock of it all, and some of the survivors had been so close to lightning that their bodies were twitching merely from the overload of energy in their proximity.

“Forward,” said Will, effortlessly casting his voice along the line of soldiers. The sergeants and officers took up the command, and a second later the shield wall and spearmen began to advance. Sorcerers followed behind them, using spells to pick off still-living demons in the distance while the spearmen handled those close at hand.

Will glanced back to make sure Selene and the trolls hadn’t moved, and he was reassured to see them still maintaining their position. Past them, the ritualists had sunk to the ground, exhausted by the release of the ritual they had spent all morning building. Even their elementals had been exhausted by the massive working. Janice was still standing, but she was leaning forward, hands on her knees as though she was trying to catch her breath.

Will didn’t like what he saw. They need to begin on the next ritual now. He hadn’t received a report from the spotters watching the other side of the city yet, but it was a good guess that a second swarm had been sent out to circle around and hit them from the side or rear. It might take them an hour or more to cover the necessary distance, but that wasn’t much time when it came to building up the necessary power for the ritual. Every minute was crucial.

Janice looked up, meeting his gaze again, and he cast his voice quietly to her ears. “Drink the elixirs. I don’t know how much time you have.”

She nodded and began issuing orders to her assistants, who quickly began drawing vials from their belt pouches. Back in Cerria, they’d obviously thought him a little insane for insisting that they create their own turyn elixirs, but now that they’d used up everything they had, it didn’t seem quite so silly anymore.

Looking forward once more, he saw that the front line had moved almost a hundred yards. They still weren’t meeting much resistance, but farther away there were some that had recovered, and fresh reinforcements were still pouring out of the city. The fight was about to become much harder. Will lifted his hands and signaled for a fighting withdrawal, while simultaneously casting his voice to some of the officers. “Pull back to our original position. Let the sorcerers punish them while they regroup to advance. We don’t want to overextend.”

Firebolts, light-darts, and other ranged spells continued to strike the demons as the soldiers slowly retreated. Will could only watch, feeling somewhat useless. Despite his abilities, there wasn’t much he could do beyond using simple ranged attacks like the light-darts spell. Without an exceptional source, he had no more power than any of his sorcerers.

A realization struck him then. Other than their one attempt at defense, the demons hadn’t used any magical attacks. Madrok warned them, thought Will. It made sense. He’d given similar orders to the sorcerers. If the demon-lord took the field, they were to stop all attempts at magical attack or defense, other than force spells. Otherwise Madrok might do the same thing and turn their power against them.

A messenger ran up to him. “The spotter at the eastern gate reports a large group left the city. Given their circular route and rate of travel, they’ll probably need thirty minutes to get here.”

Will nodded. “Any word from the west side?”

“No, sir.”

He sent his voice to Janice. “Be ready in half an hour. They’ll come from the east or possibly our rear.”

He couldn’t hear her reply, but her expression said enough. Janice was shaking her head.

“I know it’s too soon,” he told her. “Give it as much as you can. There may be another group coming from the west; ignore them and focus your attention on the eastern side.”

Janice stared at him for a moment, then finally nodded in resignation. Will sent his voice to Selene next. “There’s a group coming from the east. The ritualists will handle it, but I think there may be another group coming from the west. Keep the trolls in reserve for the west side.”

Selene shook her head, but he couldn’t hear her. After a moment, Will felt a warmth in his chest and realized she was using the heart-stone enchantment. Activating the connection, he saw her face appear in front of him. “The trolls are here for you, not for flank defense.”

Will shrugged. “Madrok hasn’t come out. If he stays in the city, I’m going to have to switch to Plan C.”

She frowned. “I don’t like C.”

Plan C involved Will trying to sneak through Myrsta and destroy the spell-engine—alone. For some reason, it had been the least popular of their contingency plans. By way of comparison, Plan A had been designed for the demon-lord and his minions leaving the city to attack them together. In that situation, they would have kept their magic use to a minimum, including cancelling the ritual. Their focus then would have been on defense while hoping that Will and the trolls could overcome Madrok.

Obviously, that hadn’t happened, so at the moment they were following Plan B, which had worked out pretty well for them. Able to freely use magic while the demons couldn’t, the battle had been all roses so far. But if they didn’t defeat Madrok or destroy the spell-engine, it was all for naught.

The main problem with Plan C was that he couldn’t bring any allies, namely the trolls, with him. The number of demons within Myrsta was almost certainly still enough to overwhelm them, and there was no way Will could hide them with magic. The second problem was that currently there wasn’t a way for Will to enter Myrsta either, hidden or not. The walls were intact, and the magic that protected them also prevented magical ingress, whether from above or below.

He’d prepared two ethereal travel spells on the off chance that it might allow him to bypass the wall, but he suspected the wards had that covered as well. Probably, his best chance was in attempting to bring down the wall himself, but that wouldn’t be stealthy, and he would have to be right next to it to attempt such a thing. His third prepared spell was an iron-body transformation, which wouldn’t help at all, but there was no way he would consider a battle without having the potent defensive spell at the ready.

“Are you listening?” asked Selene.

Will blinked. “No. Sorry.”

“You get in trouble when you start thinking on your own like that,” she warned.

“Trouble is how I met you.”

“You still have the weapons, right?” she asked.

He nodded. “You cast the spell on them yourself right before I stowed them away in the limnthal.”

She looked nervous. “What if that was a mistake? I should have let you cast them yourself. What if they don’t operate properly?”

Selene was referring to the fact that her impatience that morning had caused her to cast the new spell for him since he was taking too long putting together the unfamiliar construct. Afterward, he had then had to take ownership of the magic on the two war hammers in the peculiar way that Arrogan had taught him. The end result was the same as if he had cast the spell himself, but it still made Selene nervous. “Then you should have been patient and let me do it myself,” he told her. When he saw her anxiety visibly increase, he hurried to add, “It will work fine. Trust me. I’m linked to the magic on those weapons just as though I cast the spells myself.”

“You’d better be.” She left unsaid the fact that if he wasn’t, the spell would kill him, whether or not it succeeded in doing damage to its intended target. “Forget Plan C until after the flanking attacks. Madrok may appear once those fail.”

He nodded. “Then do as I say and use the trolls against the western attack—and don’t put yourself out there with them. Stay behind the shield wall.”

“Worried about me?” she asked.

“Of course, but I think staying near the trolls is the safest place to be, as long as you don’t enter combat directly. I worry more about Janice.”

“Even though you set your best friend to guard her?”

“Yeah. Tiny is big, but he’s no troll, and when they hit our lines, they’re going to be hell bent on taking out the ritualists.”

“Just pay attention to your business and don’t get distracted,” she advised.

Will stuck out his tongue. “Same goes for you. Stick to the west side. After the flank attacks are defeated, I’m heading for the wall, so don’t be surprised.” He deactivated the link before she could argue.

Chapter 59

The remnants of the main assault hit them long before the flanking groups appeared, but they were nowhere near as intimidating as they had been before the tactical ritual had wiped nearly three-fourths of them out. The soldiers in the shield wall held their ground, and the main-line sorcerers behind them deployed force-walls at strategic points, behind the first groups of demons to make contact.

That had been Bug’s idea, and a good one, even though he had turned traitor in the end. By placing the force-walls farther away and at alternating distances of twenty and thirty feet, they disrupted the enemy charge, forcing them to sacrifice their momentum by moving sideways to bypass the barriers. Meanwhile, the demons that were already within the force spells were partially isolated and easy prey for the spearmen.

Demons died in droves, though they did have some successes. A few of the big ones managed to reach the line, and there was little the much smaller humans could do to stop them from crashing through the shield wall. In each case, a combination of spears and focused fire from the sorcerers eventually brought down the giants. The shield wall itself reformed even before the incursions were defeated, as the third line reserves stepped in to take the place of those who had fallen.

It was something only veterans could have accomplished, for no amount of training could substitute for the cool-headed experience of warriors who had already seen several battles. Will felt his heart swell with pride as he watched them, though he felt guilt every time he saw one of them fall. Every death was his responsibility, and it didn’t help that he knew they were dying merely to try and draw out the demon-lord.

A shrill, unearthly wail floated across the field, and Will looked over to see that the eastern flanking group had finally arrived. They weren’t as numerous as the main assault group had been, but they made up for it in size; most of the new demons were the size of cattle and they had obviously been chosen for their longer legs and speed.

Looking to the west, he saw a more numerous force approaching from that direction. They had farther to travel and were composed of a more chaotic mix of sizes and types. It looked as though they would arrive several minutes after the eastern group, and Will wondered if he had made the correct decision. It might be better to have Janice and the ritualists attack the western group. The trolls would probably handle the big ones more easily, he thought.

But it was too late for that. The tactical ritual required time to set up, and the focal point for it had already been decided. Changing it now would be impossible. Judging by the turyn swirling above their heads, Will guessed that the ritual would only have a quarter of its previous power.

He hoped it would be enough.

Returning his attention to the battle raging closest to him, Will saw that yet another oversized demon had broken through the line. Without thinking, he sent a volley of five light-darts burning into the monster. Several spears struck it from the side and two firebolts burned into the demon’s head before it finally fell.

It was a few seconds later when he realized he hadn’t taken the time to construct the spell, nor had he had it prepared it. He had reflex cast the light-darts spell. A grin split Will’s features. Well, it’s about damn time, he thought joyfully.

If they were to win, he had to be at his best for the final battle, but Will couldn’t help assisting the soldiers under his command. Pacing himself, he sent volleys of light-darts into demons who broke through, and thanks to his relentless practice, he rarely missed targets that were within two hundred yards. Naturally, it helped that most of those that broke through were pretty big, but he still felt good about his aim.

Since he was watching the battle in front of him, Will was taken by surprise when Janice’s ritualists released their latest assault against the eastern flankers. A flash of light swept the field, followed almost instantly by a thunderous crack that signified the death of hundreds of demons.

Turning to his left, Will saw that more than half of the large demons on that side had collapsed and weren’t likely to rise, but the rest were still coming forward, although their movements were more erratic now. The sorcerers tasked with that side put their force-walls up according to plan, but the end result was much less effective.

The tactic had been meant for more human-sized opponents. The force-walls blocked many of the large demons farther back, but the small number that were within were still powerful enough to shatter the shield wall. Spears and spells slammed into them, but often too late, as their heavy clubs swept soldiers aside like dolls. The first attackers died, but by then their fellows had made it through the gaps in the force-shields.

If anything, the forced spacing caused by the barriers helped keep the demons from getting in each other’s way or hitting their fellows with their long, heavy weapons.

The shield wall was in tatters, and the central portion collapsed entirely. A wedge of demons forced themselves through and headed directly for their main target, the exhausted sorcerers who had slain so many of them just moments before. Will sent light-darts into them as quickly as he could, but there were too many for him to stop. The soldiers and sorcerers on either side did their best, but they followed their training and focused on restoring order in their own sections.

The middle was open, and the demons were now shifting to focus their efforts there. Will looked for Selene and the trolls, but he saw that they had already moved to the eastern side in preparation for the other wave of demons. They had no way to reach the western side in time to stop the formation from disintegrating.

The first demon to reach the sorcerers in the center was a four-legged monstrosity that had snatched up a soldier and was using the already-dead body to batter any and all in its path out of the way. It struck down the final defender and reached the helpless sorcerers.

Most of them had pulled back, but one had moved forward—Janice. Will saw her clearly as she stared up at the demon looming over her. She looked tired, and for the first time the white shock of hair made her look old rather than exotic. He could tell she had nothing left, but somehow she managed a force-wall anyway.

The demon’s makeshift corpse weapon fell apart when it slammed into the force spell, but that didn’t deter it. Its fists were literal battering rams. Janice bent and picked up a longsword that was obviously too heavy for her and scraped together the turyn to cast a silver-sword spell on it. The force-wall collapsed under the weight of the demon’s blows before she could lift the weapon to defend herself, though.

Will’s light-darts bored holes through the demon’s side, but they weren’t enough to stop it. Clawed fists came down, but before they reached Janice, one of the soldiers leapt to her defense; a massive man in mail and breastplate with a long spear in his hands.

Tiny seemed almost to fly through the air before slamming his spear into the quadrupedal demon’s chest. Big as he was, his mass was enough to drive the weapon entirely through the demon, which finally had the sense to collapse.

The one following after it had a better weapon, a ridiculously large iron sword which it swept horizontally through the air at the man who had just slain its comrade. Tiny had no weapon, his spear being fully embedded in the dead demon on the ground before him, nor did he have a shield. Even if the massive sword struck his breastplate, it would probably kill him just from the shock of the blow.

The blade stopped dead in the air, just inches from his chest, and Will could see the telltale turyn of a point-defense shield vanishing a moment later, though it wasn’t his. Was that Janice? His suspicion was confirmed when she moved forward a moment later and blocked a second attack the same way.

Tiny dropped an empty glass vial to the ground while at the same time Janice fended off two more attacks. She had already dropped the bespelled sword for him, but as Tiny lifted it from the ground, her luck finally ran out. A third demon had come at her from the side and she failed to stop the spear it held in time.

Blood flashed through the air like a grotesque red flower as the spearhead passed through Janice’s belly and emerged from her side. Will felt his heart clench in time with the scream of rage and horror that tore free from Tiny’s throat.

And then a new beast entered the battle as Tiny brought the blazing sword around to cleave the head of the demon who had slain Janice. Nothing had changed about his size or appearance, though Will knew that beneath his armor Tiny’s veins had turned black under the influence of the dragon’s heart potion he had taken.

With the fiery silver sword in hand, John Shaw, the gentle giant known to his friends as Tiny, went berserk and tore into the oncoming demons with no care or concern for his own life. He cut through the first massive demons as though they were children, and somewhere along the way he found a second weapon, a mace with a black iron head, to occupy his left hand—and still, even with two weapons, it wasn’t enough to give vent to all the rage and despair in his heart.

With the potion feeding his fury, Tiny’s strength and reflexes were enough to make even a vampire jealous. He cut and smashed a path through demons several times his size and showed no sign of stopping. Will could almost believe his friend might singlehandedly dismantle the demon advance and continue on to kill them all, but Tiny wasn’t the only soldier who had been tasked with protecting the sorcerers at the center.

They’d been caught on the back foot, but others followed Tiny’s lead, downing the same potion and racing into battle behind him. The exhausted ritualists cast the silver-sword spell on their guardians’ weapons, and the tide quickly began to turn. Over the span of a minute or less, the demons’ advance faltered and then fell apart.

Tiny was beyond logic or reason, and he left his companions behind as he cut and slashed his way to where the shield-wall should be, and there he seemed happy to fight until he died or his potion ran out, which would amount to the same thing.

Will wanted to help more than anything else at that moment, but he couldn’t. Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes from the scene, though he worried that when he looked back the next time Tiny would be dead. He did his best not to think about what had just happened to Janice, and when he checked on the eastern side, Will saw that Selene had taken his advice and remained behind the shield wall. The trolls had moved into the open, but despite being absolutely swarmed by demons, they seemed to be in their element.

With long arms and legs, they ripped and tore at anything within their reach, and though they were stabbed, cut, and wounded a thousand times over, it failed to stop them. Watching them, Will saw that occasionally the trolls not only killed their foes, but now and then they would pop pieces of the demons into their mouths. Studying them, he could see that most of them were chewing as they fought.

Although the trolls couldn’t prevent the demon horde from reaching the shield wall, their presence disrupted its momentum considerably. The fight on the western side might last for hours, considering the numbers, but the humans’ defensive line seemed stable and well controlled. They were in no danger of the same disaster that had befallen the eastern side.

The combined Terabinian and Darrowan force was now engaged on three sides, but unless the demons’ numbers increased dramatically or something new happened, it appeared that the human army would survive. It would be a protracted fight, but given enough time, victory would be theirs.

If only that was all we needed to do to win, thought Will.

Someone new arrived, and when he glanced to his right, Will saw that it was the newly promoted Field Marshal, Mark Nerrow. He met his father’s eyes and nodded. Then the field marshal pointed out the obvious. “Madrok isn’t coming out.”

Will nodded again. He knew his father deeply disapproved of Plan C, but it was now all but impossible to ignore the facts.

“Are you still determined to do this?” asked Mark.

“There isn’t any other choice.”

The baron closed his eyes for a long second, and when he replied, his voice was filled with reluctance. “The battle is stable for now. If more come, it could turn bad, and if they don’t, it will drag on for the rest of the day. There’s no use in waiting.”

Will dismissed the travel-disk he stood on and found himself at eye level with the man who had sired him. Then he made the declaration, “You have command, Field Marshal.”

He started to turn around, but Mark Nerrow caught his shoulder and spun him back before wrapping both arms around him. They both wore mail and breastplates, not to mention helmets and a hundred other encumbrances, so the embrace was anything but graceful. Will didn’t resist, but he whispered a warning to his father, “People can see us.”

“I don’t care,” said the baron, his voice thick. Then he pushed Will out to arm’s length and held him by the shoulders. “I’m proud of you, William, and I live every day with the shame that I was too much a coward to claim you as my own blood. Can you forgive me?”

Will blinked, stunned by the admission. It took a moment for his heart to register the words. “Goddamn it!” he swore. “Could we do this some other time?” He blinked again, trying to keep his vision clear.

The baron’s eyes were red. “There won’t be another chance. This fucked up world isn’t likely to give us any more time. Go!” He pushed Will away and looked in the opposite direction. “May the blessings of the Mother go with you.”

Will stood there for a moment, unable to move. “Goodbye, Father.” Then he started walking, and under his breath he said the words he had never been able to admit to before. “I love you.” Ten feet farther along and he smoothed his turyn to hide his presence. When he reached the shield wall, he put a hand on two men’s shoulders and shook them before they acknowledged his presence.

“Let me pass.”

It took them a few seconds to recognize him, but once they had, they opened a gap and Will stepped through, into the chaos beyond. He had to use his point-defense shield a few times to stop random attacks, but none were really aimed at him, and once he got beyond the line of conflict, even that was no longer necessary. With a quick effort of will, he put a camouflage spell over himself, though he wasn’t sure it was really needed. None of the demons were paying him the slightest bit of attention.

Alone and unmarked by any and all, William Cartwright began the long walk to the walls of Myrsta.

Chapter 60

As he walked, Will’s sorrow slowly turned to anger at the ridiculous fate that had led him to his current situation. Hadn’t he done enough? He’d saved his country once already, and he’d saved Cerria at least twice. In every case, he’d faced the same lonely road, though at least the first time Selene had been there to walk most of it with him.

He wasn’t planning to die, but Mark Nerrow hadn’t been wrong. None but the most foolish of gamblers would be dumb enough to put more than a few pennies on Will walking away from what he intended to do that day.

Hell, the odds aren’t even that good, thought Will. The goddamn cat knew well enough to stay out of this one.

A hundred yards passed beneath his feet, and Will was into the open ground behind the demons. His anger had also passed during that time, leaving only numb acceptance and empty resignation in its place. He walked, and gradually the vast and mighty walls of the ancient city of Myrsta grew tall in front of him.

Ahead and to his right, Will saw a new horde of demons beginning to emerge from the gates. It meant little for his task, but he didn’t like the thought of the battle behind him going sour while he was away. The void turyn spilling over the walls had grown to a usable level, so Will stretched out his will once more and caught the currents of power in his grasp. His jaw clenched as his resolution solidified, and the power around the city snapped again, transforming into a sonic wave that slammed into the wall in general, and the area in front of the southern gates in particular. Thousands of demons died in an instant, causing him to smile grimly as he resumed his slow, trudging journey.

Maybe I die today, but I won’t be the only one.

He was less than a hundred yards from the wall when he noticed that the sounds of battle behind him had shifted, becoming quieter. Looking back, Will saw that the center portion of the demon army, the part he had walked through, was gone—or rather they were now positioned horizontally in death, instead of on their feet. Twelve grey-green giants lumbered toward him at an impressive pace, and Selene’s head bobbed in and out of view over the shoulder of the largest of them.

Will rubbed his forehead in frustration. She’s not supposed to do this.

He kept walking until the trolls were almost upon him, and then he let his personal turyn return to normal and waved his arms at his allies so they could see him before they trampled him by accident. Gan grinned hideously at him, but Will only had eyes for the woman riding in the basket over the troll’s shoulder. “This isn’t the plan.”

“The plan needed improving,” she returned.

“How so?” he asked.

“The protections on these walls won’t let you bypass them using the ethereal plane, so you’re going to have to bring down some of the wall. That isn’t a good way to begin an infiltration of an enemy stronghold,” she explained.

Will put his hands on his hips. “But a rampaging group of trolls will improve things?”

Selene smiled. “Do your worst to the wall. After the dust settles, we part ways and the trolls and I will have some fun. Destroying a section of the wall will draw attention, but we’ll be there to serve as a diversion.”

“Goddamn it,” he swore. Her logic was impeccable, as usual.

“You know I’m right.” Selene offered her hand to help him climb up into Gan’s basket. “The trolls move faster.”

He took it and climbed up. The space wasn’t meant for two people, but Will never minded crowding into a tight space with his wife. “You can’t handle the void turyn in there,” he warned.

“Try me,” she challenged. “I’ll be damned if I don’t. I can use the demon-armor spell if it gets too be too much.”

Selene’s hair was tightly braided and wound into a coil that barely showed beneath the edge of her helm. He wished she had a breastplate, but the lack made it easier to get close and wrap his arms around her mailed torso. “Fuck it,” he said, agreeing with her. “Let’s go.”

She slapped Gan’s shoulder, and the troll took off at a lope that caused them to sway wildly. Not that Will minded. He used the opportunity to press his face close to Selene’s cheek and neck and inhale. The predominant smell he caught was that of iron and rancid sweat, the perennial scents that made armored humans an olfactory nightmare, but beneath those odors he still detected a trace of mountain laurel and sage. The person underneath that smelly armor was the one he loved the most.

“Don’t you dare die before I do,” he warned fiercely.

Selene turned her head, banging the edge of her helm against his before finally lining up for a quick kiss. “Don’t you dare die at all,” she replied.

Their approach with a gang of wild trolls was the farthest thing from unnoticeable. Under ordinary circumstances, riding up to a wall held by hostile enemies would have been foolish in the extreme, but thanks to his hours of sonic assaults, there were no defenders atop the parapets to observe them or drop stones on their heads.

Defenders weren’t strictly necessary anyway. The walls were impregnable, though Will intended to challenge that proposition.

They reached the base of the wall without trouble, and Will gave Selene a final kiss before climbing down. He moved up to the wall and then looked around to see that she had dismounted and stood right behind him. “This is where we part ways,” he told her.

She shook her head. “After you blow up the wall. You need someone to protect you, so you don’t wind up underneath a million tons of stone this time.”

Will pursed his lips. “Stop being right all the time.”

“Why?”

He winked at her. “It’s distracting. I get flustered, and then all I want to think about is your butt.” Shifting gears, he looked at Lrmeg and pointed at the ground. “Dig down. Be safe.” It was the best he could do with his limited command of the troll tongue.

Lrmeg seemed to understand, and he and the other trolls dug into the ground with astonishing speed. In less than two minutes, the trolls managed to dig enough to get most of their bodies into shallow holes just below ground level. When he felt sure they would be safe, Will turned and reached out to the wall with his right hand.

The stones were sheathed in coruscating bands of magic that accomplished a variety of purposes. Most were to strengthen the stone and protect it from magical interference, but some of the magic was meant to dissuade enemies from touching the wall at all. Unlike most wards that Will had dealt with in the past, these wards resonated at several different, but complementary frequencies, making it more difficult to match them all simultaneously.

Moving slowly, half an inch at a time, he accomplished it anyway, keeping the skin of his hand and wrist in tune with the turyn that flowed at each particular distance from the wall. It took him almost five minutes before his fingers touched the stone, and then he spent additional time making sure he wouldn’t slip up and let his attunement shift out of sync.

Once he was fully assured that he had the feel for it, he turned his focus first inward and then outward to send fine tendrils of turyn through his fingers and into the wall itself. When they had made contact, he began feeling for the subtle vibrations within the stone.

Since there wasn’t currently a major influx of sonic energy, the vibrations that persisted in moments of relative quiet would be those that were most in harmony with the resonance of the wall. Will found them and began gradually using his power to amplify them, adding energy and volume. The sound was too low for human ears, but he could feel a gentle hum begin to grow within the wall.

“How long is this going to take?” Selene whispered into his ear.

“Why?” he growled back. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

“I need to pee, but I don’t want to step away if you’re about to blow yourself to hell and back,” she replied with frank honesty.

Will rolled his eyes. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, just pee. Let’s not make this more complicated than it needs to be.”

“It will take at least five or ten minutes, maybe more,” he told her.

She nodded. “I’ll be quicker than that anyway.” And then she moved a short distance away.

Peeing in armor was a pain even for men. Will didn’t want to think about what the process would be like for his wife. Ordinarily, her dresses simplified the task in certain important ways, but today she had worn heavy woolen trousers and mail over that. He decided the best thing he could do was mind his own business and focus on the wall.

Damn it. Now I have to pee, he realized. It had been a long morning. He ignored the urge; there was no way he could stop now.

Minutes ticked by, and the hum in the wall gradually grew stronger. At some point Will felt Selene signal her return, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. He continued amplifying the vibration within the wall, and now it could be felt as a physical thing, a weird sensation that sang through the flesh of his hand.

More.

“It’s almost there,” he warned Selene, pausing to cast his prepared iron-body transformation on himself. She followed suit a moment later. A fresh thought occurred to him then. “How are you going to protect me? You can’t put up a force-dome or force-wall. My hand is in the way.”

“I’ve got lots of tricks,” she whispered into his ear. A second later, an odd hemispherical force-wall appeared, with one particular oddity. It had a hand-sized hole located where his wrist was. Will had learned a lot of different force spell variants, but it was one he hadn’t seen before.

“You had that prepared in advance?”

“No. I prepared it while you’ve been busy molesting the wall.”

“Oh.” He still found it impressive that she had known such an odd variant spell. She’ll be a hell of a wizard if we live through this. “Brace yourself.”

He hadn’t had the benefit of a force-wall to protect him the first time he’d done something similar, so he would probably be all right, but now that he was mostly protected, he couldn’t help but worry he was about to lose his hand. His hand wore a mail and leather gauntlet, plus the iron-body transformation that toughened his skin beneath that.

In the end, it turned out to be a non-issue. The hum built to a level the wall could no longer sustain, and then large cracks began to appear. Unlike the wooden gate he had destroyed before, the stone wall’s destruction started more gradually. Shards of stone were ejected forcefully in certain places around where the largest cracks appeared, but those cracks were five to ten feet apart. None of the cracks showed up in front of them, and in retrospect it was obvious that even the force spell had been unnecessary.

A series of deep popping noises rang out, and when Will looked up he saw the wall begin to sag, as though it was made of stiff cloth rather than stone. Selene’s hand tugged on the gorget that protected his throat, and remembering himself, Will began running back with her, away from the wall—which was slumping downward at a deceptively fast speed.

What had seemed like a slow collapse became a thundering roar as more than a hundred feet of wall shuddered to the ground between two of the small towers that repeated at regular intervals. A cloud of dust rose into the air, and when it finally began to settle Will saw that where the wall had been there was now a sloping hill of rubble and broken stonework.

Selene gaped at him. “Holy hell. You really did it,” she muttered.

“You didn’t believe it before?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s just different—seeing it in person.” A second later, she collected her senses and gave him a regretful look. “Go on. You need to start moving before they come looking for the culprit.”

He nodded, kissed her once more, and headed into the dusty gap. Clambering over the rubble was more work than he’d realized, but he did his best. He stretched out his will as he went, threading it through the dark turyn within the city. This time he was deliberately looking for the knot that represented Madrok. That was where the spell-engine would be.

With luck, he could get there without being detected, and with even more luck the demon-lord might leave the engine unprotected long enough for him to destroy the infernal device. So far, he had no reason to think it wouldn’t happen. He found Madrok’s presence and made note of it.

And then it vanished.

Glancing sideways, Will saw Selene and the trolls scrambling up another portion of the collapsed wall. A swirling storm of turyn began to boil between their positions, and Will realized with horror that Madrok had already found them. Selene’s eyes found his as Will opened his mouth to shout a warning. “Run!”

A black cloud of crackling energy appeared, and then a foul wind blasted into their faces, threatening to send them tumbling. A moment later, the cloud had vanished, and a heavy-set man with dark blue skin stood at the base of the broken stone hill. Other than his odd skin tone, the newcomer looked entirely human, but any person with the ability to sense turyn could tell he wasn’t.

The air practically shimmered around him, like a heatwave in the summer. The sense of power was so strong that it immediately reminded Will of the fact that he badly needed to empty his bladder. “Looking for me?” asked the man in perfectly accented Darrowan.

Will half slid, half climbed down the broken masonry slope. He needed firm footing for what was yet to come. Across from him, he saw Gan had picked Selene up and settled her into the basket on his back before leaping down in one long bound. The young troll backed away from the blue man while Lrmeg and the other trolls assumed a more aggressive posture. Will heartily approved. Good boy, he thought.

“Not a bad idea,” said the blue demon. “It’s always better to die on level ground.”

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come out to play,” said Will.

Madrok nodded. “I was rather attached to the idea of you futilely fighting my army for days before finally having to withdraw and accept the fact that your world was no longer your own. The idea of despair is so romantic, but you just had to ruin it.”

“I’m surprised your patience lasted as long as it did.”

The demon-lord grinned, showing pointed teeth. “I have to admit, I’ve never had anyone annoy me as thoroughly as you did today. That sound attack of yours made my teeth hurt, even at the very center of the city. I think you’ve earned some very special treatment from me today.”

Will responded with a force-lance, which Madrok blocked with ease. “In a hurry to die?” asked the demon-lord. “Annoying me further won’t speed things up. I’m going to torture you for centuries.”

This time, Will answered with a volley of five light-darts, counting on the fact that Madrok could only block one of them, but the demon didn’t bother. All five of the missiles fizzled into sparks just inches from his skin.

The demon-lord smiled. “When Leykachak died I attributed it to a substantial confluence of enemies coming together, but I can see now that you were more than just a hapless bystander. You’re still young, but there hasn’t been one like you in quite some time.”

Will tried a combination of force-lances and light-darts, with no better luck. Madrok blocked the force attacks and ignored the rest, which fell apart within inches of his skin every time.

“That won’t work,” said Madrok, then his eyes roamed to either side. “Where’s the cat? Were you foolish enough to think you could win on your own?” When Will didn’t answer, the demon looked to his rear. Selene had disembarked from Gan’s basket and moved back another fifty yards while the young troll returned to help his companions encircle their enemy. Madrok looked back at Will. “She can’t get far enough away. You realize that, don’t you? Even if she ran for a month, I would still find her—just so I could torture the two of you together.”

Will summoned his rapier, then cast the silver-sword spell upon it without considering the fact that he didn’t have the spell prepared. Stress seemed to be a good catalyst for growth. He hoped he would live long enough to profit from the lesson. Moving forward, he began threatening Madrok with the weapon while simultaneously sending a series of force-lances at the demon-lord from point-blank range. “You should have worn armor, Madrok,” he warned. “Even Leykachak wasn’t that stupid.” Lrmeg and a second troll were closing on the demon from the rear.

Madrok blocked each force-lance while summoning a thin black sword with which he stopped Will’s slashes. Still seeming relaxed, the demon answered, “My brother was a fool, and unlike him, I don’t need armor.” As he turned in mid-sentence, his sword cut completely through Lrmeg’s torso and then removed the second troll’s right arm. “I appreciate your concern, though. It’s very sweet of you.”

Will increased his speed as much as possible, and the trolls went berserk, rushing at the demon-lord from every angle. In the beginning Will supplemented his attacks with force-lances, but in the chaotic moments that followed he found himself forced to switch to using the point-defense shield more often—not to stop spells, but just to keep Madrok from eviscerating him with the blinding speed of his black blade.

Selene moved closer, until she was less than twenty yards away, and then she began attacking the demon-lord with force-lances whenever his back was toward her. She couldn’t yet reflex cast the spell, but she could construct it quickly enough to throw one every few seconds.

Between Will, the trolls, and her sneak attacks, it seemed impossible that Madrok could escape every attack, though for a while he did. Eventually, he turned away from Selene for too long, and one of her force-lances struck the demon-lord’s hip, blowing out a fist-sized chunk of flesh and bone.

Now! thought Will. Madrok stumbled, and Will dropped his sword, summoning one of the war hammers that had the new spell on it. Gan swept in with a long-clawed hand and ripped part of Madrok’s belly open, spinning the demon-lord around and disorienting him.

A better moment would never arrive. Selene might be too close, but Will couldn’t waste the opportunity. Swinging the war hammer as hard as he could with his right hand, he brought it down on Madrok’s shoulder.

Or at least he tried to.

At the last moment, something slammed into Will’s breastplate so hard that it immediately burst into flame, and despite its inertia-dampening properties Will was knocked back two feet. His swing missed, although Gan hooked a second hand around the demon-lord and began to twist as though he would rip the blue-skinned demon in two. Belatedly, Will realized that Madrok had finally used a force-lance of his own to knock him back.

Madrok ignored Gan’s devastating claws and hissed in pain, but as he did, his will stretched out like poison in the air around them. Will fought it instinctively, but as strong as his will was, he could only nullify the effect for a few feet around himself.

Everyone else took the full brunt of it, and the air was filled with the screams of twelve trolls and one very human woman whose voice rose through the octaves until Will thought it would tear his soul apart. Gan, Selene, Lrmeg, and all the others collapsed, writhing to the ground as they shrieked in agony. Will sent an unending stream of force-lances at Madrok, but the bastard stopped each and every one with a grin. The demon’s wounds healed over, and the fiend straightened up even while as he defended himself.

Madrok danced forward, swinging his black sword with perfect grace, and Will knew he’d been a fool. They had never had a chance. None at all.

He raised his war hammer, the motion seeming slow and clumsy compared to his opponent’s fluid motion, and then a roaring howl filled the air, temporarily blotting out even the screams of Selene and the trolls. Seemingly from nowhere, a massive grey form that was so dark it almost seemed black flew through the air to land on Madrok’s back.

At the same time, a disembodied voice found Will’s ear. “Run. We’ve already lost. Run while you can.”

The goddamn cat’s claws latched onto Madrok’s shoulders, and the great cat’s jaws bit down on the back of the demon-lord’s neck, crushing his spine. Black blood spurted and flowed as Madrok collapsed under the weight of the Cath Bawlg.

The pain stopped the demon-lord’s spell, and Selene and the trolls suddenly stopped screaming. Will started to run to his wife, to take her and flee, as he’d been warned, but then his eyes met those of the goddamn cat and he knew.

His friend had come to die. Though the Cath Bawlg had the advantage, the demigod knew something else was coming. This was how his end would come. This was why he had tried to leave. For whatever reason, the goddamn cat had thrown aside all reason and come anyway.

And as soon as he knew the truth, Will could no longer turn aside. He could see Selene struggling to her feet, so he shouted to her. “Take the trolls and go!” He doubted she would listen, but it didn’t matter. Together or apart, he was going to make certain of one thing. If the goddamn cat was going to sacrifice his life, at the very least one of the cat’s most ancient foes would die with him.

Turning back, he lifted the war hammer and started toward the helpless demon-lord. The Cath Bawlg had already torn through Madrok’s spine, and his rear claws were busily raking deep furrows in the flesh of the blue demon’s back. It was inconceivable that they could lose.

A new tension filled the air, an ominous gathering of turyn, but Will moved forward to strike anyway. The energy vanished as his arm went up, accompanied by a faint ‘popping’ sound. Pain shot through his hand as the war hammer was violently wrenched from his grasp to fly away from him. The handle was broken, and the shaft and weapon head tumbled in two separate directions.

Someone had used a force-lance to disarm him.

Turning his head, Will saw a wide, circular opening in the air, through which a heavily wooded glade could be seen. Aislinn, the titular Goddess of Magic, had already stepped through and was now being followed by her husband, Elthas the Forest Lord. Behind them more fae stood ready, armed with shimmering swords and fragile-seeming armor crafted to resemble leaves.

She warned me, Will realized, thinking of his last conversation with Tailtiu. As that thought crossed his mind, he saw Tailtiu step out from behind her mother. His aunt’s face showed no expression as she looked back at him, but her appearance was made somewhat odd by the puppy that rode along in a sack hanging from her neck, its head sticking out to stare curiously at the world around it.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, but things snapped into motion a split-second later. Selene yelled and pointed at the fae intruders, and most of the trolls leapt to attack them. Will summoned his backup war hammer and tried again to finish off Madrok. Deep down, he knew he’d made a terrible mistake in not listening to the goddamn cat’s warning. He should have accepted the Cath Bawlg’s sacrifice and run with Selene as fast as he could.

But it was far too late for that now. If he was going to die with the demigod, he would be damned if they didn’t at least finish off the demon-lord first. Screams, growls, and roars filled the air as Will added his own snarl to the cacophony and brought the hammer down.

His blow never landed. Aislinn muttered a word and released a spell that swept over him, Selene, and the trolls. “Stop.” Golden chains composed purely of energy wrapped around his arms, legs, and torso, and though they looked flexible, they held his body rigid in a grip that denied all motion.

Similar chains held Selene and even the powerful trolls immobile. The only one of his allies who seemed immune was the goddamn cat, who still held the twitching Madrok in a death grip while he steadily devoured the demon’s spine.

That didn’t last long either. Although the fae-lord Elthas possessed powerful magic, he was in no way a match for his formerly human wife, but what he lacked in magical skill he made up for in physical prowess. Leaping forward, the fae-lord crossed the gap in a single bound and drove his sword directly through the Cath Bawlg’s chest.

The great cat’s jaws opened, and a pained cry echoed around them. Will’s face was red as he strained to move, but he was helpless. Even his magic was trapped, as though someone had wrapped a heavy blanket around him, smothering every ounce of his power.

“You have been a thorn in my side for far too long,” said Elthas, twisting the sword to increase the demigod’s torment. The cat’s flesh sizzled, and smoke rose from the wound as fae magic burned into the demigod’s torso, drawing out even louder cries of pain.

Madrok’s body fell from the Cath Bawlg’s twitching claws, and impossibly, Will saw the demon-lord’s wounds begin to repair themselves. Before his eyes, the mangled spine renewed itself and knitted together, and when it reached the base of Madrok’s skull, the blue-skinned monster’s arms and legs began to move.

Madrok’s eyes focused on Elthas, and his mouth opened. “You kept your word, Elthas. I was beginning to worry.”

The fae-lord laughed as he twisted the sword back and forth, enjoying the cat’s agony. “It was a worthwhile bargain. In truth, it feels as though I’ve been paid twice, for both the price and the reward of our deal were worth it to me.”

“He’s going to destroy this world,” Will hissed.

Elthas focused on him for a moment. “Stupid mortal. Your kind have been an annoyance since the first wizard forced the ridiculous terms of the accord on us. I would rather see your world die than suffer it any longer, and as for this creature, far too many of my servants’ bones lie bleaching in the sun around its lair.”

The fae-lord’s remark reminded Will of what Tailtiu had told him the first time he had approached the cave where the Cath Bawlg lived, “Whatever it eats does not return; its prey remains dead—forever—including us.”

At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to see the goddamn cat eating Elthas’ head and heart. The fae-lord saw the hate in his eyes, and in response he withdrew the sword for a moment, then thrust it through the goddamn cat’s chest again. Will’s ears were filled with the demigod’s scream, and he wished he could close his ears as easily as his eyes.

His grandmother moved closer, until she stood beside him. She seemed fascinated by the great cat’s torment. Then she spoke to Will, “Your power has grown, grandson, but it appears your resistance is still not strong enough to keep me from binding you.” She turned her head to face him, then added, “Are you really that weak, human?”

Will glared back at her with a hatred so intense it seemed impossible that the fire in his eyes didn’t burn her to ashes on the spot, but at the same time the more logical part of his brain was working in the background. Is she trying to tell me something?

Aislinn studied the war hammer for a second. “Interesting spell. Was it your idea? The execution is particularly elegant.” She glanced in Selene’s direction. “It was her design, wasn’t it? I knew she would make a worthwhile servant.”

“She isn’t yours and she never will be,” growled Will.

Elthas was listening, and at that comment he laughed. “Fool. Death solves a thousand problems. What do you think I promised my dear wife in return for her constant and faithful service? Your death will absolve any question of ownership, and I will get the pleasure of helping her to adjust to immortality, as I did with Aislinn herself, years ago.”

Will’s eyes fairly bugged from his head, his outrage was so great. He looked to his grandmother for help, but she merely shrugged. “I am bound to my lord’s will, though I am not displeased. You should be proud. Your wife will become a shining new star among my people. You accomplished the impossible with her. She’s now a third-order wizard, and with a few centuries and my training, she will become the second greatest magic user to ever join the fae.”

From twenty yards away Selene still struggled, but she managed to open her mouth enough to hiss a reply. “Go fuck yourself!”

Madrok’s healing was nearly complete, and as he sat up, he seemed to be impatient. “How long do you intend to take?”

Elthas frowned. “Don’t rush my pleasure.”

“Our bargain wasn’t for your pleasure. Fulfill your oath and kill the cat and the wizardling,” snapped the demon-lord.

The fae-lord seemed irritated but he nodded. It was then that Aislinn interrupted. “Let my daughter handle it. It will be an important part of her recovery.”

Elthas smiled. “An excellent idea.” His eyes went to Tailtiu then, and he seemed to see her for the first time. His gaze went to Dinner, hanging contentedly in his sack. “What is that?”

Tailtiu answered in a voice that showed little concern. “A toy.”

Elthas snapped his fingers, and a vine shot forth from the ground and ripped through the strap holding the sack. Dinner fell to the ground and before Tailtiu could protest he brought his heel down on the puppy’s head, grinding it into the soil. Tailtiu didn’t move, but her body jerked slightly as the little dog died. “Next time leave your toys at home,” admonished her stepfather.

Will was so caught up in his own thoughts that he hardly noticed the tear that suddenly ran down Tailtiu’s cheek, but he heard the heartbreak in her voice. “Yes, father.”

“Are you really that weak, human?” Aislinn’s words repeated in his mind. Should I be stronger? he wondered. Or was she giving him a clue? Why had she emphasized the word ‘human’? Maybe she thinks I’m faking it—that I’m not really helpless. That would explain the way she had labeled him as human. The only advantage humans had over the fae was their ability to lie.

But the simple truth was that he couldn’t move. If his grandmother was playing a game within a game, he was about to fail the test. Aislinn’s next command caught his attention. “Daughter, I command you, by the debt you owe me, end this pitiful human’s life.”

Will’s gaze focused on Tailtiu in alarm, and several things flashed through his mind in that instant. The first was a technical point regarding debts and the fae. When a conflict of interest between creditors came up, the one who held the larger debt took precedence. That meant that if Elthas ordered it, Tailtiu would be bound to do as she was told, but Aislinn had surrendered all of her daughter’s debt to Will.

He held precedence, but even more importantly, Tailtiu was free to do as she pleased. Her disease had made her different from the rest of her people. Aislinn had been giving up a worthless currency when she sold her daughter’s debt to Will. He had thought that sticking him with a bad deal was the entirety of her reasoning, but now he wondered.

There was no time to spend pondering the accounting of the fae. Will focused his will, trying to override Aislinn’s control over the chains. Given their proximity to his body and relative distance from his grandmother, he should have the advantage.

But the Goddess of Magic was incredibly strong. Aislinn smiled at him as he began actively trying to absorb the magical chains that held him fast. She knew exactly what was going through his mind, but she wasn’t going easy on him. The rules of her existence bound her. Elthas had commanded her service, and her iron will wouldn’t give her grandson even an ounce of slack.

The veins on Will’s temples stood out, and sweat ran down his cheeks as he fought with everything he had to neutralize the spell holding him. Tailtiu’s voice found his ears as she entreated her mother. “Surely you don’t really mean for me to kill him, do you?”

The golden chains holding him began to flicker as Will fought desperately for his freedom, and with each passing second, he became more certain. It was possible, and with confidence his will grew stronger.

Aislinn’s could see what was happening too. “Kill him. Now!” she commanded loudly.

Tailtiu was staring at the dead puppy on the ground, tears dripping from her cheeks. The Cath Bawlg yowled once more and somehow found the strength to snap at Elthas, to which the fae-lord responded by pulling his sword free and ramming it down the demigod’s throat. “Die fiend!” screamed the Lord of the Forest.

And all hell broke loose.

The chains around Will began to dissolve. The light in the goddamn cat’s eyes started to fade, but the demigod’s jaws clamped down in a deathgrip on the forest lord’s blade. Tailtiu’s head snapped up, rage on her features as she turned on her mother. Her beautiful hands shot toward Aislinn with incredible speed and wrapped around her mother’s throat. Will knew how incredibly strong Tailtiu was from prior experience. With a twist and a jerk, Tailtiu broke Aislinn’s neck with an audible cracking sound.

Will was already moving, the second war hammer still in his grasp. The spell Selene had put on it was still active, and he brought it down on Elthas as the forest lord struggled to free his sword from the demigod’s death grip.

As the hammer head contacted his opponent’s skin, the spell activated, and the heavy end of the war hammer shifted into the ethereal plane. It passed smoothly through the fae-lord’s body and when it reached the center of mass, Will let go of the weapon’s handle, triggering the second part of the spell.

Will was shifted to the ethereal plane, and the other half of the weapon shifted back to its usual plane of existence, where it now co-occupied the space where Elthas’ torso was.

The explosion that resulted ripped through everything in the vicinity. Elthas came apart like a rotten gourd, and everyone near him was slammed by a pressure wave that broke bones, ripped skin, and generally made for a very bad day. Madrok was driven back into the ground, breaking most of the bones in his body and causing his skull to collapse, while Tailtiu and Aislinn were sent flying, their arms and legs bent at impossible angles and their skin hanging in tatters.

The closest trolls also suffered horribly, but such wounds weren’t serious to them. They could heal even faster than the demon-lord. Selene and Gan were the farthest away, but they were still sent tumbling by the force of the blast. A few seconds later when the spell dissipated, Will rematerialized to witness the aftereffects.

Over the course of recent years Will had observed incredible scenes of destruction on several occasions, but even so, he was impressed. Elthas had quite literally achieved the seldom-seen state of matter that some called being blown to smithereens. Will had always wondered what a ‘smithereen’ looked like, but he was confident now that he knew.

Madrok’s body was still identifiable, crushed into the ground. Impossibly, the demon-lord still lived. The demon’s body was slowly beginning to restore itself even as he watched.

There were still combatants left who were capable of fighting, though. Elthas’ attendants were battered but still largely whole, and being fae, they were already healing. Tailtiu and Aislinn were slowly trying to pick themselves up from where they had been blown, though the broken bones in their arms and legs made it a difficult proposition.

The trolls were already getting back to their feet, as was Gan, but Selene lay still upon the ground. Whether she was dead or unconscious Will didn’t know, and he couldn’t spare even a moment to check. Summoning his falchion from the limnthal, he cast a silver-sword spell on the blade before heading toward the fae soldiers. As he moved, he spent a brief second to turn and put a force-lance through Aislinn’s head. It wouldn’t kill her, but it might buy him time.

In troll he shouted, “Now we kill!”

The fae soldiers had no hope of defending themselves against the trolls physically, and naturally they fell back on wild magic to overpower their foes, but they were unprepared for Will’s presence.

Vines started to grow and withered away just as quickly when his will smothered their magic. Unlike Aislinn, none of the other fae were wizards, and they utterly lacked the ability to resist his strength. Before they even realized what had happened, the trolls fell on them, along with a few well-placed force-lances. The trolls ripped them limb from limb, tossing arms and legs in every direction as they tore the fae soldiers into pieces. Will did his part, hacking into any that managed to reach him with more than two limbs still intact.

The fight was quick and brutal, and as soon as the trolls laid hands on the last fae soldier, Will turned his attention back to Aislinn. His grandmother’s head had already regained its shape, healing faster than he’d expected. Summoning a handful of kitchen knives from the limnthal, Will marched quickly over and began stabbing the steel blades into his fae grandmother’s body.

“One for the left arm, one for the right, now the leg, now the other, next some steel for your belly and some for your chest…” He chanted to himself as he methodically pushed the iron implements into her flesh. “Throat, head, heart…” Aislinn’s body smoked as she writhed in pain, but most importantly, her healing stopped.

“Will, stop,” said Tailtiu, strangely uncomfortable with the sight of her mother’s torture.

He glanced up. “I won’t kill her, but I have to keep her helpless until I can deal with all the rest.” Getting back to his feet, Will studied the field around him. It was a bloody mess. In troll, he yelled a new command, “Find the pieces. Don’t eat. Bring them here.” He pointed at the depression in the ground where Elthas had transcended physicality and become a smithereen.

Killing an immortal fae was tricky business. Even Elthas would probably recover, if enough of him was found and returned to Faerie before his flesh withered away from lack of turyn. His people could regenerate serious wounds even while in the human realm, but it exhausted their reserves. In their home plane they could heal without limit, but not here. The best way to make sure one of them died was to ensure that their body couldn’t be returned before their flesh withered away. Will didn’t know how long that would take, but he knew a great way to speed up the process—a method as old as time itself, and one that worked on fae, demon, and troll alike.

Fire.

Madrok’s form was already regaining cohesion once more, so Will spent a short, joyous period of time using his sword to hack and burn the demon-lord’s body into the small separate pieces that he felt were most appropriate form for such an incredibly nasty being.

While trolls gathered bits of gore, Will finally took a moment and ran over to check on Selene. Rolling her over, he felt his throat tighten for a moment. A large bloody bruise marked her forehead, but his tension eased a moment later when he saw her chest slowly rising and falling. She still breathed. Wasting no more time, he summoned a regeneration potion and poured some into her mouth and some over the wound.

Gan walked over to see what he was doing, so Will gave him a new job. “Protect her.” Then he went back to inspect the hole and its collection of body parts.

The last troll arrived carrying fae pieces and bits and Will recognized one of them. It was Elthas’ head. Somehow the arrogant lord’s head had survived mostly in one piece. That made him feel better. Dropping it into the hole with the rest, Will summoned a large number of the vials of alchemist’s fire he’d kept stowed away in the limnthal since he’d made them over a year ago.

He had begun to wonder if he would ever find a use for them, but Will was certain that this was the day. He poured the first directly over Elthas’ bloody face and then dropped the rest of the vials in the hole around it. He quickstepped away from the hole as white-hot flames roared upward.

With nothing to do for a moment, he looked over to check on Aislinn and Tailtiu. His grandmother was still staked out, smoking and hissing, but Tailtiu had moved away. Turning his head, Will spotted her kneeling beside a tiny body. Lrmeg tried to retrieve the pup to put in the fire, but Tailtiu’s tear-stained face was enough to warn him away.

Throughout the bloody collection process, Will had kept his eyes open for remnants of the goddamn cat, but none had been brought to him. As he watched the fire burn, he spotted something pink in the grass to his left. Bending over, he picked it up and saw that it was a small pink bow, stained with blood.

He recognized it as Sammy’s work. One of the many bows she had lovingly used to adorn Mr. Mittens. Will slipped it into his pouch then rubbed his face in an attempt to scrub away the emotions threatening his composure. There was still much to do.

Chapter 61

The void turyn was spilling out of the city once again, and Will worried that in her unconscious state, Selene wouldn’t be able to keep it from poisoning her. The battle around the Terabinian position was still raging, but the part facing the city was almost finished. He needed to enter the city and do away with the spell-engine, so Selene needed to be taken to safety.

Interrupting Tailtiu’s mourning, he asked his aunt to carry Selene to safety.

“I’m tired, Will,” she said sadly. “I may look fine, but that explosion shattered my bones. Healing them took most of the energy I had. I’ll need to return soon.”

He nodded. “Just carry her for me. I trust you to be gentle. The trolls will protect both of you until you reach the army. After that, you can go home.”

“Mother needs to return too,” she replied, keeping her gaze away from the sight of Aislinn’s smoking flesh.

Will’s expression was unforgiving. “She can take herself home, once I’m done with her—assuming I like what she has to say.”

Tailtiu nodded, then clambered up into Gan’s basket. Will lifted Selene into her arms, and then at Tailtiu’s request, he brought Dinner’s limp body over. Summoning a blanket from the limnthal, he wrapped the pup carefully and then gave it to his aunt, who settled the tiny canine against her chest, atop Selene’s unconscious form.

Something about the sight brought tears to his eyes. Will waved them away, and after they left, he walked over to his grandmother and began removing the knives. He didn’t store them, though, since he wasn’t yet sure whether he would need them again or not.

Aislinn’s body stopped smoking once the last piece of iron was removed. She couldn’t yet speak, but one eye focused hatefully on him, promising retribution. “Keep staring at me like that and I’ll grind you up with a bucket of iron slag and bury you in a hole,” Will warned. There was no humor in his tone.

Never one to act foolishly, Aislinn didn’t tempt him. She found a different direction to stare while her body gradually restored itself. It seemed to take forever, but eventually her chest began to move as her lungs started drawing air in and out. Will judged she would soon be able to talk. Picking up the largest of the knives, he knelt with her hair under his knee and put the point an inch from her right eye.

“Try to move, try to use magic, do anything but answer my questions and I will drive this piece of iron through your eye and the brain behind it. You only have one chance. Offer the slightest threat and I will grant your most secret desire—I’ll end you. I already have a nice fire burning and ready for the task. Do you understand?”

She tried to speak, but her throat hadn’t recovered enough yet. She nodded instead.

“Your plan was clever,” he admitted, filling the silence. “No matter how things turned out, you stood to profit, but that’s always the case, isn’t it?”

She gurgled again, then smiled, showing blood-stained teeth.

“If Elthas got his way, you would be free of the Cath Bawlg, not to mention reducing the debt that kept you in his service.”

Aislinn nodded, then managed to utter two words in a rasping voice. “And Selene.”

A fresh surge of anger shot through him, but Will controlled it. “And you would get a new immortal disciple.”

“But you won,” said his grandmother. “I thought you might.”

“Don’t even pretend to care,” snarled Will. “This turn of events is even more to your advantage. With Elthas dead, you no longer have a master controlling you. As the smartest and most powerful magic user in Faerie you can easily consolidate your mastery over your people, if you haven’t already. You’re more dangerous than he ever was.”

“Unless you slay me,” she suggested.

“The third possibility, and the one you probably desire the most, though the very nature of your existence won’t even allow you to say it,” Will said angrily.

As if to confirm his statement, Aislinn said nothing at all. She merely stared back at him with uncaring eyes.

“The one thing I don’t understand is how you managed to do it. The accord forbids your people from harming humankind. Elthas shouldn’t have been able to make a deal with Madrok. He shouldn’t have been able to command you to help him with it. None of it should have been possible.”

“The accord has been voided,” she replied.

“How?”

His grandmother smiled. “You did it, when you changed my daughter.”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “I saved her. That wouldn’t void the agreement.”

“She became free, yet she was still a party to the accord,” said Aislinn. “Which she then proceeded to break.”

“But she didn’t,” insisted Will.

“She attacked you and ignored her debt, and if that wasn’t enough, she has killed several humans while she was experimenting with her newfound freedom.”

Will’s brows rose in surprise. He hadn’t known that. “Still, the accord was broken by one of your people. Humanity shouldn’t be suffering for it.”

“The fae can’t lie or cheat,” she responded. “So, there were no penalties written into the accord. Once it was broken, it was done. Elthas saw his opportunity, and I encouraged him, as a good wife should.” The gleam in her eye was pure malice.

Seeing her helpless, weak, and broken, did nothing to arouse his sympathy. His grandmother would be dangerous for as long as she lived, and he would never be completely safe until he killed her. But she was also useful, and if he put her out of her misery, he would not only be giving her what she secretly wanted, but he would also be exposing humanity to a new threat with such a broad scope that he couldn’t begin to quantify the risk.

A new accord was needed, and the only person with the authority to make it was currently in his power.

“We need a new agreement between your people and mine,” said Will.

Despite her pitiful position, Aislinn’s faint smile was both ominous and chilling. “Then we must bargain. What terms do you seek?”

A small shudder went up his spine. Will knew he wouldn’t wrangle a winning deal from her. Even the greatest scholar of law would despair trying to come out ahead in any negotiation with the fae, much less Aislinn herself—and he was a far cry from being any sort of scholar of law. A mistake now could lead to consequences that might haunt him, or even worse, humanity, for generations to come.

Two options came to mind to avoid a complete disaster. One was to reinstate the old accord, with a couple of choice additions, while the other was to establish a temporary truce until he could consult experts and garner advice. He worried that a simple truce might allow her to do things he couldn’t foresee, though. His grandmother’s cunning was legendary.

“I want to reinstate the old accord with the same terms, and a few small additions,” he told her firmly.

She studied him with an expression that suggested she was impressed, though Will didn’t believe it. Aislinn could only tell the truth with her words, but her face, hands, body, and every other part of her demeanor could tell a thousand lies. “Simple and quick. You’re less foolish than I anticipated. Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer some time?”

He’d only read through the accord once, back when Arrogan was still alive, and he barely remembered some parts of it, but he trusted the old, familiar terms better than his own slapdash judgment. Time would only give him a greater opportunity to make a mistake. “The old terms, plus my additions.”

“I may refuse, if your additions are unsatisfactory.”

“Then you’ll never return home, and I’ll have to find your successor to try and negotiate with,” he replied.

She smiled. “My successor doesn’t exist. My people are chaotic and fractious. At this time, I’m the only one with a chance of binding them together and forcing them to accept such an agreement. If I refuse and you kill me, then our worlds will be at war.”

“I’m willing to take that risk.”

“Make sure your conditions aren’t unreasonable. There are some things I cannot agree to, whether I wish to or not.”

“I want to learn how to open gates the way you do. I want to know how you gained such knowledge, and every other bit of information you acquired with it.”

Aislinn said nothing for several seconds, then asked, “Is that all?”

“Is the knowledge of teleport beacons part of my first condition?”

She nodded. “I learned both things and more from a hidden vault left by the Wayfarer’s Society decades ago.”

“That’s what I want,” said Will. “Plus, in addition to reinstating the old terms, I’d like to amend one part. The accord won’t be dissolved if no true wizards are left in the future, but only if there are no living humans left. I also want Tailtiu’s future actions to be of no consequence, since she is no longer truly one of your people or mine.”

“What of bargaining powers?”

“Those will remain with whatever wizard is senior, or if the wizards die out completely, with the most senior official of whatever human nation has the largest population.” It was something that had bothered him for a long time, that his death might end the accord. Now that Selene was ready to receive the limnthal, his worry would be lessened, but it still seemed foolish.

His grandmother thought for several minutes before responding. “I can accept those conditions. Is that all?”

He nodded. “A penalty. If the accord is broken in the future, by any party and for any reason, your people will remain in their own realm from that day forward.”

She shook her head. “That I cannot agree to.”

Will frowned. “Then agree that they won’t travel to this realm from that day forward.”

“I won’t agree to that either.”

He tried several variations of the same thing, but Aislinn refused them all. In the end, the most he could get her to accept was giving the heads of each human nation a ten-day truce and warning if the accord was nullified.

They made a verbal agreement then and there, clasping hands and swearing to uphold their oaths. “A month from today, we will meet again to sign the written agreement, provided we both agree that nothing has been changed.”

“I have a good memory,” he warned.

“And mine is perfect,” said his grandmother. “It will be exactly as we have said.”

He nodded and took to his feet. “Farewell then. I still have another task ahead of me.”

“William,” she called, her voice suddenly tentative.

“Yes?”

“My body and my power are exhausted from the wounds I’ve taken. I’ll need help to return to my realm,” she admitted.

He smiled evilly. “Not my problem.”

“If I die here, our agreement will fail.”

Will shrugged. “You should have included that in the terms then. Are you saying you bargained in bad faith, knowing you couldn’t get home on your own?”

Aislinn sighed, then smiled faintly. “No. I was merely tired. It was an oversight.”

As if—you never make mistakes, he thought. Then he held up three fingers. “Three unbound favors if you wish me to make sure you return safely.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. You expect me to pay for my life with something worth my life—three times over?”

He nodded. “I should profit from it if you expect me to cooperate.”

“Two unbound favors.”

“Deal.” Will shook her hand a second time. Then he chanted Tailtiu’s name under his breath three times. He felt the connection strongly, for she was still close by, with his army. She returned, with the trolls, a few minutes later.

“Tailtiu, take your mother home for me.”

She gave him a rebellious look. “I don’t want to.”

Aislinn sneered. “Fool. Her debts don’t bind her any longer. You must do it yourself.”

Will eyed Tailtiu, then said, “By the debts you owe me, take her safely home.”

His aunt looked from him to her mother, then back again. After thinking for a moment, she answered, “Yes, Master.” She held out her arms for Will to hand Aislinn to her.

Will had decided he needed the trolls, though. “I want you to transform and take her yourself.”

Tailtiu frowned. “My power is almost gone—unless you will permit me to share in yours.” Her lips pouted almost imperceptibly.

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? he thought. He held out his hand instead. Seeming disappointed, Tailtiu took it, but when she began to draw on his turyn, he matched his frequency to hers so that her body could easily assimilate it.

“Oh!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up. She continued to draw from him for several minutes, and Will began to think she might be a bottomless well. Eventually, he pulled his hand back.

“That should be enough.”

Tailtiu stared at him with hungry eyes. “Never.” Before he could argue though, she transformed into a massive doe and knelt so Aislinn could mount.

Will breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally gone. Then he stared at Myrsta, where he could see void turyn continuing to spill out of the city. Gan looked at him questioningly, then asked, “More kill?”

“More kill,” he affirmed.

Chapter 62

The first hundred yards into Myrsta were uneventful. The broken wall opened up to a street crowded with buildings and shops—all empty. It ran parallel to the city wall, so they had to turn and follow it until they found a cross street that led toward the center of the city, and it was then that Will’s misadventure began.

A group of demons stood around the corner, and Gan and the other trolls wasted no time leaping forward to attack them. While Gan had been fairly careful while he carried other passengers, for some reason he thought Will was different. Rather than holding back, he surged forward to attack with the other trolls.

Will was pressed down by the force of his sudden charge, but a moment later, when Gan came to a sudden stop, he shot up and out of the basket to sail over the heads of the demons. One red-skinned brute looked up in curiosity as he flew by, until Gan forcibly regained the creature’s attention by ripping its throat out.

It was probably for the best that none of his human allies had been able to accompany them, because Will’s landing wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to be immortalized in story or song. In fact, if it hadn’t been for his helmet, the adventure might have become more of a tragedy than comedy. He struck the corner of the nearest building, confirming that it was indeed built of stone, then slid awkwardly to the ground, bruising himself even further.

He didn’t lose consciousness, but he was too stunned to assist while the trolls clawed, ripped, and bashed the hapless demons into their graves. Reinforcements soon arrived, and the battle expanded. Will was still trying to get his eyes to focus, and things seemed much worse than they were, until the figures fighting in his vision condensed into just half the number he had seen moments before.

The ferocity of the trolls was such that he decided to take his time. “Don’t mind me,” he mumbled. “I’ll just sit over here and try to pull myself together.”

The next demons to show up came in small groups, which merely excited the trolls. Lrmeg in particular seemed to enjoy lifting the smaller demons and using them as missile weapons against the larger ones. With absolutely no concern for their own safety, the trolls moved outward, forming an ever-larger circle.

They didn’t try to keep the circle unbroken, they just spread out, allowing the demons to pass around them as they punished and sometimes ate pieces of the ones they caught with their long arms. The trolls simply had no fear and no need to engage in defensive tactics. Whether their numbers were two or twelve seemed to make no difference. Will could easily imagine just one of them happily fighting until the city had been completely depopulated of demons.

Physically, the demons had many advantages over humans, especially in the toxic turyn that permeated Myrsta. They were stronger, sometimes faster, and they were incredibly tough. Many of them could regenerate in a similar fashion to the trolls, although it was slower and they required turyn to do so.

Compared to the trolls, however, the demons’ physical advantages weren’t really enough to make them any different than if the trolls were fighting humans. The trolls punished them, played with them, pulled them apart, and if any demon seemed too hard to kill, or regenerated too fast, the trolls simply ate it.

The void turyn was no problem for the trolls either, though it did irritate them to some degree. Their bodies were incredibly tough and resistant to turyn in general. What little irritation the demons’ environment caused them, they simply healed it. So long as the trolls popped a few juicy pieces of whatever they were fighting into their mouths now and then, they could continue battling and healing indefinitely.

The one big advantage the demons had, though, was that they were intelligent. They quickly realized they were in trouble and soon stopped running in willy-nilly. A pause emerged, and then a line of human-sized demons marched down the street, holding the long, metal tubes that Will had once seen when he had taken a trip to hell with the goddamn cat. Each tube held a metal rod with a sharp, barbed point, and behind the line of demons with bolt-casters, there was a massive, four-legged monstrosity with two arms. It held a massive iron sword in one of them.

Already bored by the brief delay, the trolls charged at them immediately.

A series of loud cracks filled the air as the bolt-casters discharged, sending dozens of sharp metal missiles ripping through the trolls—to little avail. One or two of the trolls were hit in the leg and stumbled, but the rest ran on, and once they reached the line of fiends, they continued doing what they had been doing all along.

The giant, quadrupedal demon brought its iron sword down in a motion that neatly bisected one troll, but two others simply grabbed their unfortunate companion and used the halves as weapons to bludgeon the other demons. A second swing cut several others apart with one blow, but by then Gan had leapt onto the giant demon’s back. He swarmed over the huge demon like a spider, and it was forced to drop the sword and use its hands to try and stop the troll tearing at it.

To avoid the arms, Gan simply tore the demon’s belly open, and as the guts spilled out, he crawled inside.

Will watched in horror, unsure whether his nausea was a result of his head injury or simply the sight of so much gore. The giant demon died, and after it fell over, Gan stood up inside its torso then playfully grabbed the demon’s limp arms so he could swing them around. It looked like a grotesque puppet show. Will’s stomach heaved, and he finally lost his most recent meal.

He felt better after that. Briefly taking off his helmet, Will saw a dent in the steel, but when he probed his skull beneath his padded coif, it seemed to be solid. Without the helm, his skull would have undoubtedly cracked like an egg. He put the helm back on and made sure to buckle the strap. Standing up, he experienced a mild wave of dizziness, but it passed quickly.

Just to be cautious, he took the time to put a new iron-body spell on himself. Then he stepped back into the street and called out to the trolls, “Gather up!” He also used a few force-lances to finish off the odd demon here and there. His allies hadn’t been very thorough. Some of their enemies were still alive, even though a troll might have gnawed off an arm or a leg.

It took a minute to rein in the trolls, but once they had all gathered, Will noticed that some of them were considerably smaller. A quick headcount informed him that he now had sixteen allies, rather than twelve. Oh, right! The big demon had cut several of them in half, resulting in more trolls than they had started with.

“Stay close so you can see me,” he warned the trolls. “Some of them may use fire.”

That got their attention. Fire was the one thing they were scared of—well, except for one of the smallest trolls. He simply ignored everything, picking his nose obliviously. Apparently there hadn’t been any brain in the piece of troll he had regenerated from, so he hadn’t learned anything yet, much less how to talk.

From there they proceeded in a much more orderly fashion—assuming that one’s definition of ‘orderly fashion’ was extremely loose. Will wondered what the name for a collection of trolls was. “Maybe a pandemonium of trolls?” he muttered to himself. “Or would a bedlam of trolls sound better?”

After a few more blocks of watching them create a bloody mess of partially eaten demons at every corner, he made up his mind. Someone had assigned the proper term to crows, when it rightfully belonged to trolls. “This is definitely a murder of trolls,” he decided.

Their advance went unimpeded for another quarter of a mile, until they encountered a well-organized and disciplined group of massive humanoid demons. These were nearly the size of the trolls and wore heavy iron armor. They carried large, curved swords and square shields. Most significant of all, the slender demons marching behind them wore armor that seemed to be composed of pure fire.

The trolls charged forward, as usual, but the moment they spotted the burning demons in the rear, they split and scattered. All except the small, ignorant troll. He simply stopped, and when the front row of demons split apart, the small troll stared mutely at them as a wave of flames swept over him.

The little troll would have been roasted, but Will stepped in front of him. Since entering the city, he’d been steadily absorbing void turyn and converting it to keep it from poisoning him, but as a result he was practically bursting with power. He reflex cast a wind-wall and put everything he had into it, creating a tornado of pure destruction that destroyed everything within thirty feet.

While the spell kept the flames away from Will and the small troll, it also fanned them, and now everything in the area around them was on fire. The demons had also been just far enough back that only two at the center of the front line were killed. The rest were still perfectly fine.

His troll allies didn’t appear to be returning, not with the blaze around him, and if something wasn’t done soon, Will guessed that the fire could spread and engulf the entire city. The little troll next to him still didn’t understand fire, though, and the spunky beast tried to charge forward.

Will put a point-defense shield in front of his small friend’s face. When he ran into it the small troll fell backward and landed on his ass, staring upward in confusion at his benefactor. “Stay still, stupid!” Will swore.

The troll looked at him, then repeated one word and pointed to himself. “Stupid?”

“Yes, you! You’re stupid! Don’t move.”

The little troll grinned and jumped to his feet while chanting his new word. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Great, he thinks his name is stupid now, Will realized. From the corner of his eye, he saw the sword and shield demons opening ranks again—another wave of flame would be coming soon. With no time, he caught the thick void turyn all around them and turned it to his own purpose, creating a ring of intense sound with the demon group at its center.

The flames nearest the demons died instantly, as did the flames shrouding the slender demons as their bodies were flash-frozen. The intense sonic boom that followed shattered them into red and black chunks of grisly frozen flesh.

The newly named troll stared at him with huge eyes, obviously impressed, though Will hardly noticed. He’d been inspired. Much of the area was still on fire, but now he used his talent in a gentler fashion, creating a loud hum. Magic was central to his talent, but it used kinetic and thermal energy to create the actual sounds. The temperature dropped rapidly, and in just a few minutes, the flames around them died away and sputtered out.

Will stepped forward to examine the dead demons, but his troll was too busy staring to move. Turning back, he called out, “Come on, Stupid. Let’s go.” The little troll responded then, running forward quickly. Raising his voice and speaking in troll, Will called to his other companions. “Fire gone. Gather up!”

Eventually they all returned, and Will and his murder of trolls were able to resume their journey to the center of the city. They were smarter, more cautious trolls now, all except for Stupid, of course, who still had a lot of brain development to look forward to. Now that they’d seen the demons using fire, they stayed closer to him.

The fighting got tougher from there, as whoever Madrok had left in charge was obviously aware of their advance by then. Will began to wonder if bringing the trolls was the wisest decision. It might have been easier to reach his goal if he’d gone with his original, stealthy plan.

But the trolls were certainly more fun.

They moved down the street, and Will began using light-darts to pick off magic-using demons at a distance, while the trolls ripped apart anything that got within fifty feet of them. Shield walls and other defensive formations failed against them entirely, for the trolls cared nothing for their own safety. They leapt into spears and jumped and bounced off buildings to land inside organized units of demon soldiers.

Anything that gave them the slightest trouble, Will eliminated. The lesser demon magic-users had no hope, for he smothered their spell-casting abilities, and any uniquely powerful physical attackers could be crippled with force-lances and light-darts. Once the trolls got their clawed hands on a fallen opponent, it was over. No matter the demon’s size or power, having a troll tear through your belly and eat its way to your heart was invariably fatal.

Eventually, they came to what had probably been the central square. The remains of an enormous stone building filled the wide-open area with a massive mountain of rubble. The top of the pile of broken stone featured a strange metal cube roughly fifteen feet on each side, and from that emerged a tall metal rod that rose fifty feet into the air above it.

Void turyn poured from the cube and the metal rod, rushing outward from it so that walking into the square made Will feel as though he was standing in a deep stream and trying to walk against the flow. The dark energy was so concentrated at that point that even the trolls were beginning to have difficulty. Their skins bubbled and cracked, flaking off in dry sheets while their eyes burned and healed in an endless cycle that left them mostly blind.

Will led them away, until the ambient level of toxic power was low enough that the trolls weren’t in constant agony. They ducked into a recess at the front of a heavy stone building that had possibly served as a bank. At the moment, there weren’t any more enemies nearby, so he activated the limnthal and described what he had seen to Arrogan.

“I don’t see the mechanism you described before,” said Will. The spell-engine was supposed to have a mechanical component that was powered by the energy of the ley lines, pounding some sort of demon-steel anvil to create the void turyn before an enchanted linkage drained it away.

“It sounds like that’s the emitter. The ley-lines in Myrsta meet in an underground chamber, similar to the one you found beneath the Arenatas’ home in Cerria. The spell-engine will be there,” said Arrogan.

Will sighed in exasperation. “Great. How am I supposed to find it?”

“Follow the link back to it, obviously,” replied his grandfather sourly. “You need to sever the link between the ley lines and the spell engine to stop it safely.”

He nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then he deactivated the limnthal. Looking at the trolls, he could see they wouldn’t be of any more help. He had originally had a vague idea that they might be useful as muscle to help him disassemble the spell-engine, but they couldn’t get any closer.

Looking out from the stone recess, Will saw that on the other side of the square a huge swarm of demons had gathered. Where do they keep coming from? The army had fought and killed thousands upon thousands of them, and his trolls had slaughtered a substantial number on their way to the middle of the city.

There weren’t many good alternatives left. Or any, for that matter, Will thought. He was going to have to go it alone, and considering the number of enemies, he’d have to sneak. No problem. I’m good at that.

Using stealth, he would have plenty of time to search for the entrance to wherever the underground ley line chamber was, and even more time to figure out how to safely disable the spell-engine.

He gave the order to Lrmeg. “Go back. Wait for me.”

“Where?” asked the troll leader.

“To the army.”

Lrmeg’s next sentence was too complicated for Will to pick out the nuances, but he got the gist. Lrmeg wanted to know how they would get back to Muskeglun if he died. Will answered, “Selene.”

Lrmeg nodded and shouted orders to the others. They started leaving, but once again, the little troll failed to understand. He remained by Will’s side. Will had to call out to get Lrmeg’s attention. “Hey! Take Stupid with you!”

Gan came back and took the hapless troll by the hand and led him away. The trolls wasted no time, and once they broke into a run, it wasn’t long before Will lost sight of them. At last, he was alone.

It wasn’t Will’s first time to walk into a lion’s den alone, but he’d gotten used to having the trolls around. Their sudden absence left him feeling more vulnerable than he liked, but there was no help for it.

He cast a camouflage spell over himself, then smoothed his turyn in the way Darla had shown him and started making his way toward the central square again. He was disturbed to see that it was rapidly filling up with even more demons.

The void turyn was becoming an issue for him as well. Not for his health per se, but the vast and constant flow of power around him made it difficult to maintain the camouflage and iron-body transformation spells. He could absorb any void turyn that reached his skin, but the energy was polarized in an opposing fashion to the turyn that maintained his active spells. The interference between the two served to constantly erode his protections.

Will moved sideways around the edges of the square to get a feel for the area since it seemed that if he got any closer, he might lose his camouflage entirely. After he had gone a quarter of the way around, he finally saw the reason why more demons kept appearing. On the opposite side of the pile of stone that the emitter stood atop, there was a wide circle fifty feet in diameter. It looked similar to the gate that Aislinn had created to bring herself and the other fae to Madrok’s location.

There were three key differences, though. This gate was much larger, it showed no sign of vanishing, and the other side was quite obviously connected directly to hell. Demons marched through in countless numbers.

Fuck my luck, Will swore silently.

He stood still for several minutes, thinking hard and studying his surroundings. Time wasn’t on his side. Eventually, he would get tired and make a mistake or lose control of his camouflage spell. Using Darla’s technique to remain unnoticed was also becoming exceedingly difficult.

I’m not going to have time to find a hidden chamber. Shit, shit, shit. To come so far and fail at the end wasn’t acceptable, and in a flash, he knew what the solution was. Staring at the pile of rubble, he could see a complex braid of silver, gold, and iron wire that led from the giant cube before disappearing below the surface. That’s the linkage carrying the void turyn to the emitter.

If he followed that, it would lead to the spell-engine underground somewhere. But it appeared to have been buried to protect it. It would take ages to unearth it and figure out where it led.

Recasting his iron-body transformation and the camouflage spell, Will began walking directly for the rubble pile, but after only thirty feet, his spells fizzled out completely, and the demons that stood close by in virtually every direction stared at him in surprise.

“Screw it.” Snatching at the power that lay heavily in the air, Will pummeled the entire area with sound. He was careful to direct all the sonic energy away from himself, but the reflected sound was enough to deafen him and almost knock him from his feet. Frozen bits of demon covered the ground, and the wind that blew across his face was so cold it made his nose and cheeks burn.

But more demons were still pouring through the gate. Some were confused, but a few were quick enough to charge in his direction. Will ignored them and began scrambling up the rubble pile. He needed to get closer.

Despite the intense turyn wind, his force spells worked normally. Will rapidly blasted the demons that had the temerity to follow him up the broken slope. His attacks killed some, and those that survived were sent tumbling to the bottom. It wasn’t easy to climb the treacherous ground while staring behind himself, but he did it anyway. The only alternative was death.

A new spell caster emerged from the gate, and Will was forced to start using his point-defense shield to block beams of black death. There were still dozens of others climbing up after him, so he needed to switch to offense to keep them back. In order to do that, he tried to smother the caster’s ability, but just then he felt the demon’s will counter his.

Their eyes locked for a moment, and the fiend smiled at him. Another demon-lord? Holy Mother, what else can go wrong? Feeling a surge of panic, he tried to use his talent again, hoping to disorient the demon-lord and buy himself some breathing room, but instead he discovered a will greater than his own, restricting his power.

When in doubt, he did what he thought Arrogan would have done. He made a pointed hand gesture in the demon-lord’s direction. Then he was forced to blast several oncoming demons with force-lances.

Naturally, when he did that, he couldn’t protect himself from the master demon’s black beams. One struck him square in the leg, and he felt an intense burning sensation, but his leg continued to support his weight. He finished blasting away the nearest demons and struggled farther up the slope.

The demon-lord was almost a hundred yards away. Too far to use a force-lance on, but Will felt grateful for the fact, since it was probably the reason the fiend was using other magical attacks. Another black beam struck him, and although it hurt, it didn’t seem to do him much harm.

Will ignored his primary foe after that and focused on getting closer to the emitter. He was just thirty feet from his goal when he saw multiple demons crest the top ahead of him. They’d been climbing the other sides out of his view. There were more closing in behind him as well.

He was surrounded and unable to use anything other than force-spells or magics that remained close to his body, and even those would be quickly eroded by the void turyn raging around him.

But that was all right. He was close enough. Will opened his mouth and shouted, trying to use his talent to amplify his voice, though he wasn’t sure how well it worked. “Surrender now and I’ll let you live!” The demon-lord gave him a puzzled look, then Will added, “Actually, that’s a lie. There’s no way I’m letting you bastards survive.”

Looking back up at the emitter, Will launched a force-lance at the spot where the linkage cable was connected. It took two shots to fully sever the link. Then he gazed back at his foes and laughed as a strange hum began to build in the ground beneath their feet.

Without the emitter to disperse the void turyn the spell-engine was creating, the dark energy was building up. Somewhere underground was a massive anvil of demon-steel similar to Will’s breastplate. It was already burning with black void flames, since that was the level it had to be at to function properly, but without the enchanted linkage, the energy being fed into it from the ley lines would only continue to build.

Will smiled and got some satisfaction at seeing the demon-lord start running back toward the hell gate. The demon’s will smothering his spell-casting eased up, and Will used the last spell he had prepared, shifting himself into the ethereal plane.

Chapter 63

It would have been nice if his day had simply ended there with a near-flawless victory and no serious injuries. All too often, Will’s encounters with demons or other monsters ended with his body covered in bruises, cuts, and far worse. Unfortunately, he had gone too far for that to be the case. In particular, he had gone too far in the vertical sense.

The ethereal plane matched the normal plane, with the exception of buildings and other temporary structures. The rubble pile Will had climbed up was an example of such a relatively new change to the terrain. Once he arrived in the ethereal, Will discovered that the ground there was at least a hundred feet beneath him.

Watching the ground rush at him, he couldn’t help but think, There should be a spell for moments like this. As it was, all he could do was cast an iron-body transformation and try to relax his legs. Someone had once told him that the best way to take a fall was to avoid becoming rigid and try to roll.

Too bad he’d never had any practice. He hit the ground with such force and speed that he lost consciousness without knowing if he’d managed to tuck and roll. There was a brief moment of pain, and then the world went black.

Surprisingly, he regained consciousness. Staring up at an empty gray sky, Will realized he must still be in the ethereal plane. Everything hurt, and when he tried to move, his body soundly rejected the suggestion. Ordinarily, his first course of action at that point would be to take a regeneration potion, but there was a more pressing need.

The spell he had used would only keep him in the ethereal plane for a maximum of five minutes. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but he was probably running out of time, and he was now roughly a hundred feet down from where he had been previously. That meant when the spell expired, he would shift back to his world in a place that was currently occupied by a large volume of stone.

In comparison to what he had done to Elthas, there would be even less of Will’s body left.

Panicking, he tried to move again, with substantially more determination—and quickly learned that both his legs were broken and possibly his back as well. His ribs also made sure to let him know that they were unhappy with the treatment they had received. Only his arms seemed uninjured, and they couldn’t do much given how much pain his back and ribs responded with whenever he tried to push or pull with them.

He started to summon a regeneration potion just as the spell gave out, and to his bewilderment, he found himself still alive after shifting back to his normal plane of existence. The massive pile of rubble had disappeared, replaced by an impressively large crater—and of course he was falling again.

There’s no justice.

Thankfully, this time his fall was only a distance of ten feet, which was more than enough to send a thousand jolts of agonizing pain through his already broken legs and cracked ribs. The pain lasted long enough to let him know he survived the fall, and then he blacked out again.

***

Someone touched his forehead with gentle fingers and Will slowly opened his eyes. Waking up while being uncertain if he was dead or alive was all too common for him, but he’d had enough experience that he was fairly certain he must have survived. His body felt whole, though he had been lying in the same position for far too long and he definitely had a crick in his neck.

A feminine figure was leaning over, and although the lighting was very dim, his eyes had already adjusted well enough, not to mention his nose would have been enough to identify the woman. Feeling mischievous, he feigned confusion. “Selene?”

Janice bolted up, doubtless remembering a time when she’d taken care of him when he’d been feverish in his dorm at Wurthaven. On that occasion he’d awoken similarly and kissed her by mistake. Will began snickering, unable to keep up the ruse.

“Cad! You were trying to scare me on purpose, weren’t you?” exclaimed his friend.

He nodded. “Where’s Selene?”

She pointed at the tent flaps. “Right outside. She only stepped out for a moment.”

Will laughed even more. “No wonder you were so scared.”

Janice gave him an angry glare. “A joke like that is probably worth more than my life. Remember who you married.”

“She’s not that bloodthirsty,” Will argued. “Besides, she likes you.”

“And I like her as well,” said Janice, “but she still frightens me, especially where you’re concerned. She was not pleased when she woke to find the trolls had returned without you.”

He saw Selene’s head enter the tent, but after hearing Janice’s last sentence, his wife backed out again to give them a moment’s privacy—or perhaps to listen in. It didn’t appear that Janice had noticed her. “You looked like you might be dead the last time I saw you,” said Will.

Janice touched her side and winced at the memory. “I couldn’t let you be the only one having all the near-death experiences. I managed to drink the potion you gave me before I bled to death. I missed the rest of the battle after that.”

“And Tiny?”

“Ask him yourself,” she responded. “He’s outside as well.”

“Where are we?”

Selene came back in, making more noise this time. “On our way home.”

“I’ll give you some privacy,” said Janice, bowing out quickly.

Will sat up on the cot and swiveled his head slowly from side to side. He definitely had a crick in his neck. “I have an army to run.”

“Not anymore,” said his wife. “Are you thirsty? Tiny already has a pot of water on the fire.”

He nodded. “Tea would be nice. Why don’t I have an army?”

“You’ve been demoted,” she answered primly.

His eyes narrowed. Only one person in the camp had the power to do that, and even then, it probably wasn’t legal. “On whose authority?”

“Don’t give me that look,” snapped Selene. “Your field marshal relieved you of command on orders from the king. You’re back to being just a duke again.”

“How did he send orders that quickly—oh.” Will realized the answer immediately. Mark Nerrow, like most sorcerers in Terabinia, was subject to a heart-stone enchantment. The king could control him whenever he wished, and more pertinently, he could communicate with him directly in the same way that Will had been talking to Selene.

Selene nodded. “More important is why, not how.”

“He’s already tried to kill me several times this year.”

“And now he needs you dead more than ever,” she agreed. “There’s nothing worse for a king than a victorious war hero.” She sat down beside him and began to knead his neck with her fingers. “Does this help?”

“Gods, yes,” he said gratefully. “How did you know?”

“You were holding your head in a funny position. You know it wasn’t just Father trying to kill you, right?”

“Technically your father didn’t try to kill me. He just looked the other way.”

She pulled him close, hugging his back and putting her chin on his shoulder before speaking softly beside his ear, “It won’t be long before he takes a direct hand in the matter.”

“A lot of people have tried and been disappointed,” said Will nonchalantly.

Her arms tightened around him. “He won’t fail, William. He never does. If you wait for him to make the attempt, we’ll both be dead.”

“He won’t kill you.”

She growled. “Attempted regicide carries a death penalty. I probably wouldn’t succeed, but if he kills you, I will certainly respond violently. If you want to keep us safe, we need to do something before he does.”

“I don’t want you involved in it.”

“Then you should have married someone else.”

Will sighed. “How long do you think we have?”

“Two years at best, so not waiting another year would be wise,” she replied.

He nodded. “Let’s figure out something within the next six months then. Where exactly are we?”

“On the road heading west to Klendon with Captain Barrentine’s company serving as our escort and honor guard.”

“Honor guard?”

“The ostensible reason for your removal was because you were wounded. Mark Nerrow is in charge now, and I suspect that Father intends to appoint him as governor of Darrow. Most of the other senior officers will probably reap similar rewards, particularly Hargast and Lambel.”

Both men had given excellent service, but Will was surprised that she singled them out. “Why those two?”

“They’re your vassals. If he gives them more land and greater titles in Darrow, they’ll have to renounce fealty to you and swear to him. Father will reorganize everything you’ve been involved with to try and break up any power structures that may be overly sympathetic to you. Don’t worry, though. You’ll probably get a medal and a parade, just so no one suspects too much when you inevitably have a tragic accident.”

“Your father is really devious.”

“Pay attention. Cruel as he is, this is a valuable lesson. Many of the techniques he uses to retain power are built on kindness, so even if you don’t agree with his goals you can use the same methods yourself someday.”

“I don’t really like power that much,” he confessed.

She nibbled the back of his neck, sending shivers up his spine. “Get used to it. After you kill him, someone will have to take the throne.”

“I don’t want the job. Can’t we just leave after that?”

Selene remained silent for a while. “We could. I might prefer that, but I doubt it will work.”

The nibble had started a chain reaction within Will’s body. “Let’s talk about it later.”

His wife had other ideas, though. She pulled away, leaving a pout on his face. Then she put a finger over his lips. “Hold that thought. Your friends have a history of walking in at awkward moments.” Rising from the cot, she walked to the tent flaps and stuck her head out. Then she made a rather public announcement. “William and I will be engaged in some marital matters for the next few hours. Please see that we aren’t disturbed.”

Will’s expression was of shocked disbelief when she returned. “I can’t believe you said that.”

She smirked. “It was the truth. Besides, it was just Janice and Tiny.” Knowing how easily Tiny could be embarrassed, Will wished he had been watching, and Selene read his mind. Her eyes were full of mischief as she added, “You should have seen his cheeks!”

They didn’t talk much, but sometime later, after a short nap and some more mischief Will thought perhaps they’d be getting up to start the day. Faint hints of dawn were sneaking in through gaps in the canvas, but when he started to rise, Selene held fast to him, burying her head against his chest.

He thought it was a joke at first, for she’d never really been the type to cling, but after he struggled for a moment, she still wouldn’t let go. “Just a little longer,” she begged, with her dark hair obscuring most of her features.

She sounded normal, but something in her tone touched his heart anyway. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Reaching up with one hand, he pushed the hair away and was immediately struck by the red-rimmed and swollen eyes. How she had managed to cry in complete silence without moving or alerting him was a complete mystery. His best guess was that being born royal and raised by a monster had instilled the skill in her. “What’s wrong?”

Blinking, Selene buried her face again. “Nothing now.”

Shifting his body and using both hands, he lifted her head so he could see her face. It was hideous, though it somehow made him love her even more. “Tell me.”

“I thought you were dead—again!” The words were barely intelligible, but the context made her meaning clear. “How many times is this going to happen?”

Lifting the corner of the blanket, Will used it as a towel to wipe away the mess. When he pulled it away, he replied, “I thought things turned out better than usual this time. It went pretty well until the end, and then I just had a little fall.”

“It wasn’t just a little fall,” she snapped. “You destroyed the whole city, and no one would or could go look for you. Even after the air began to clear they were too afraid! If I hadn’t ignored them all and escaped with your troll love-child, you would have died.”

He snorted despite himself. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. Don’t try and change the topic. It wasn’t just a little fall. I was the one who found you, lying broken in the middle of a crater the size of a cathedral. Your head was resting on top of one of your feet like it was a pillow.” Her body shivered at the memory.

He almost snickered but managed to suppress it. The words were funny, but Selene’s voice told another tale, one of fear and tragedy. Instead, he kept his reply neutral. “Gan took you to find me?”

She nodded. “Him and the others.”

“I can’t believe you called him a love-child.”

“We don’t even have a child yet,” she complained. “I thought you were dead and then where would I be? All I would have to remember you by would be your ugly troll babies.”

Her emotions were raw, painful, and too much for him. Will chuckled.

“Don’t laugh,” she warned. “I think you love Lrmeg more than me.”

“But I married you,” he answered in a calm rational tone. Then he paused. “Wait, did you say troll babies, plural? Lrmeg and the others aren’t mine.”

She growled. “It wasn’t easy to understand, but Lrmeg told me enough that I figured out how you hired your troll mercenaries.”

“Oh.”

“Slut.”

“That is not how it happened!” he protested loudly. “They cut little pieces off of themselves, and I used a knife to make the cuts.”

Somehow his distress over the explanation made her smile. “Excuses, excuses…”

Epilogue

The stars were impossibly bright, aided by the lack of a moon. The stately elms that grew near the main house created a beautiful lattice against the bejeweled black velvet of the sky. Will was standing on the second-floor balcony, leaning over a smooth, hand-carved rail while he studied the grounds of Selene’s secret paradise, the Rimberlin Estate, or as she usually called it, Rimberlin House.

The waterfall she had mentioned before was close enough that it could be faintly heard above the soft susurration of the trees in the wind. Sculpted topiaries near the house blended with the randomness of the orchard trees in the distance to create a delicate balance between manmade order and natural charm. After the last few months at war, it was the perfect balm for Will’s soul.

It had been almost a month since they’d returned, and two weeks since they’d vacated the capital to find peace and quiet in the country. He’d been a little apprehensive at the suggestion, given that they’d nearly been killed the first time Selene tried to bring him there, but after arriving, he was soon grateful that he had given in to his wife’s wishes.

Music drifted from the large balcony doors, another reminder of the extravagance of his current life. In Barrowden, music had been a luxury enjoyed mainly on special occasions. A number of the villagers had practiced with their own instruments, but unless one was lucky enough to live in a household with such a person, music was a rare treat.

The music that evening was the result of a string quartet that Selene had hired for a party to celebrate Will’s award. Lognion had decided to award him the Silver Cross, Terabinia’s highest award for bravery. It wasn’t a medal usually given to commanders, but Will had put himself in harm’s way on so many occasions that Hargast and Lambel had sent personal recommendations to the king.

In reality, it had just been an excuse for a party, and Selene had insisted on hiring the musicians for the entire week, even though the guests were gone after a single night. Will didn’t argue, though. Between them, they had more money than he knew how to count, and Selene deserved some joy. Despite his parsimonious peasant’s heart, he would have agreed to hiring a full orchestra to serenade his wife to sleep every night if he thought it would make her happy.

Two ladies in exquisitely lovely dresses approached him from behind. They were arm-in-arm, but they released their hold on one another to flank him on either side before threading their arms through his. The one on his left had a pale, freckled face that would have been framed by a cascade of wild red hair, if she hadn’t had it tightly braided and coiled for the event. The lady on his right was a dark brunette whose hair was bound into a queue that trailed down her back.

Both were lovely and had claimed part of his heart, though neither of them was Selene. Trapped between them, Will responded firmly, “No more dancing. The guests are gone, and the party is done. We should let the musicians rest.”

“My feet are sore anyway,” said Sammy. She had been more somber since Eric’s death, but her spirits were finally beginning to return to normal.

Will’s half-sister, Tabitha, glanced over, then noticed something she had missed. “Where are your shoes? I thought you seemed shorter than usual!”

“Those weren’t shoes. They were torture devices,” complained Sammy.

Tabitha shook her head. “You just need to build up your calluses.”

“Or stick with more practical footwear,” said Sammy, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Looking from one side to the other, Will frowned. “Where are your candles?”

“Inside, on one of the side tables,” said Tabitha promptly.

Sammy stared at her bare feet. “In the kitchen—maybe?”

“No dessert for either of you tomorrow,” he told them, which resulted in a chorus of outcries, claiming injustice. Will was adamant, however. “You know the rules. I even reminded you.”

“But it’s a party!” whined Sammy.

“All the guests left an hour ago,” said Will sternly. “If you seriously intend to learn wizardry then you’ll do as I say.”

Sammy released his arm, looking aggrieved. “It’s been over a week since you drugged us, and all we’ve been doing is carrying these stupid candles around.”

Will closed his eyes and prayed for patience. He had indeed drugged some of the new students, Tabitha and Sammy among them, for the purposes of awakening their sight. Watching the source-linked candles would be pointless otherwise. If anything, his cousin and younger half-sister should be grateful, since he hadn’t needed to use the heart-stone enchantment on them as he’d had to do with all the others, like Laina, Seth, Janice, and a few others he’d picked from his class at Wurthaven. Only those who had already been trained to use turyn needed to be restrained the same way that Selene had been.

Tabitha and Sammy had become fast friends almost immediately after their first meeting, but there were certain moments that put them at odds. This turned out to be one of them. Squeezing Will’s arm, Tabitha took the opportunity to chastise her friend. “You shouldn’t complain, Sammy. I’m sure my brother has his reasons for the way we’re being trained.”

“I’m his cousin and I don’t recall Will having any sisters,” countered Sammy, raising one brow.

“He’s married to Selene, so that makes him my brother-in-law,” Tabitha informed her.

Sammy frowned. “Huh?”

“Selene grew up with us,” explained Tabitha amiably. “So we think of her as a sister.” She paused, thinking with one finger against her lip. “Actually, that sort of makes me a princess by proxy. What are you again?”

The words were spoken playfully, but Tabitha was sometimes thoughtless with her jokes. Sammy flinched and her back straightened. Her green eyes caught fire as she replied, “Ask yourself that again in ten years, when I’m the world’s most powerful wizard.” Turning on her heel, she marched away.

Tabitha released his arm and went after her immediately. “I was making a joke Sammy, I’m sorry! I didn’t think about what I was saying.”

Will watched them go, wondering if he should intervene, but after a few seconds he decided to keep enjoying the night air. Tabitha and Sammy genuinely liked each other, and he had little doubt they would resolve their dispute. In the background, he heard Laina toss her two cents into the arena. “If you had kept your candles with you, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Then the doors behind him closed. Looking back, he saw that Selene had stepped out to join him and was now making certain they wouldn’t have any interruptions. She moved up to the railing and stood beside him, drawing her wrap around her shoulders to block the chill of the night air. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Will smiled. “Yes. But not because of the stupid medal. It’s beautiful here, and most of the people I care about are close by.”

“Mostly because of the training,” said Selene.

She was right, of course. Not only were they teaching both his sister and his cousin, but Seth, Janice, Emory Tallowen, and two students from his class at Wurthaven were living with them for what would probably be a period of at least a year if not two or three. Will nodded.

“Your cousin seems to be taking a shine to Emory,” Selene said in a mild tone.

Will’s hands tightened on the rail. “I don’t think he’s well suited for her.”

“Why? He’s handsome, intelligent, well heeled, and he was one of your best sorcerers in the army. What does he lack?” asked Selene.

“Common sense, compassion, a proper sense of how everyday people live,” returned Will instantly.

Selene sighed. “You mean he was born to privilege. Do you think that makes him a bad person?”

Will paused, realizing they’d stumbled into a sensitive topic. He was married to a princess, after all. They didn’t come more privileged than that, but Selene had been anything but typical. “No, of course not,” he said after a moment. “But I’m not sure he’ll ever appreciate her properly. Deep down, he’ll always think of her as a peasant.”

His wife put a gentle hand on his arm. “He’s come a long way from when you first met him. If he really turns out to have an interest in her, I think he will change even more.”

“She’s still a peasant.”

“And her guardian is married to the crown princess,” said Selene.

Will looked askance at her. “Saying he’ll make allowances because she’s related to someone important isn’t going to advance your case.”

Selene refused to allow their talk to become an argument. Her tone remained relaxed as she replied, “Royalty and nobility function based on practicality above all else. Maybe it doesn’t suit your ideal, but the fact that you’re her cousin will force him to re-evaluate his beliefs. If they fall in love and he becomes more open minded as a result, does it matter what the reasons were that made him reassess his ideas about class and wealth?”

“Shouldn’t it matter?”

She met his gaze evenly. “What about me? Did you judge me so carefully before pursuing me and eventually interrupting my wedding? Did you worry about what my reasons were for changing my mind about chaining my future to yours?”

“That’s different,” said Will. “I wasn’t important either. You chose me purely because you loved me.”

Selene nodded. “I do, but was that really all of it? Do you think I didn’t see some other potential in you? I’d seen plenty of hints regarding your growing abilities already. Maybe your peasant background didn’t matter to me because I knew you would eventually become the most powerful mage of our generation.”

He stared at her. “Is that what happened?”

She shrugged. “Hell, if I know. People are complicated, and we often don’t fully know our deeper motivations. I tell myself I loved you simply because you were kind, brave, and that you cared more about what was right than what would benefit you, but is that the entire truth? I have no way of knowing.” She leaned back and looked behind him for a second, then winked. “You have a cute derriere too. That may have been the final deciding factor.”

Will laughed. “Fine. I can’t argue with that. Are you saying I’m biased because I’m overprotective?”

The corner of her mouth turned up. “That’s putting it mildly.”

He took a deep breath. “I’ll try to be more objective, but if anything happens—if she has even a moment of misery because of…”

“William. Think about who you are. You don’t have to threaten boys who might be interested in your family. Emory knows. If anything, it shows bravery that he is willing to entertain the notion.”

Will growled. “Because she’s common?”

“Because you could ruin his family, or even worse. I’m speaking from experience. Very few are willing to take the risk when the lady comes from a family that could destroy them with just a word in the right ears. You’re thinking of Sammy as a commoner, and sure, some might say that, but deep down what they’ll really feel is fear. So, give her some leeway if someone shows a little interest.”

Will nodded. “As usual, you’ve put more thought into this than I realized. I’ll defer to you—for now. Let’s go to bed.”

Selene gave him a scandalous look. “So soon? What will everyone say?”

“That I was tired, and I have to rise early tomorrow too.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you ever going to slow down? You’re still training as though there’s a fresh war about to start.”

“I have to set a good example for our students,” he replied.

Selene laughed. “They’re all still watching candles. They can’t do anything else for at least a few months. I doubt they’ll be impressed by your insane spell regimen.”

“And yet you’ve been joining me every morning.”

“I have to keep an eye on you,” she replied slyly. “You’re going to give me wrinkles if you keep forcing me to rise so early.”

“All part of my plan to ugly you up and keep the other men away,” said Will.

***

Master Courtney made a steeple with his fingers while leaning over his desk. “The notes you gave me, there’s more, isn’t there?”

Will smiled. “Have you made headway with them?” He’d given Master Courtney a foreshortened version of the book that Aislinn had given him. In particular, he’d limited it to information regarding city teleport beacons.

“The information regarding beacon construction was thought lost forever,” said the academic. “If the king agrees to give us the funds we need, there’s no reason we couldn’t start trying to construct one now. With Myrsta in our hands, we have at least two places with the necessary ley-line resources to make beacons practical.”

“I’m sure His Majesty will agree to that,” said Will. “It will make governing easier, as well as speed the repairs to Myrsta.”

Wurthaven’s head researcher nodded. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ve learned to be careful.”

“You still don’t trust me? Even though I’ve joined you in a secret cabal to overthrow the king?”

Will shrugged. He was far from ready to share the knowledge he’d gained regarding planar gates or personal teleports, though he might in the future. “I trust you, but I don’t make decisions based purely on my feeling anymore. I know for certain you value knowledge above all else. If there’s more hidden away, you’ll have an excellent reason to be on your best behavior.”

Courtney shook his head. “If you were anyone else, I’d be offended, despite your honesty.”

But you won’t be offended, thought Will, because you can’t afford to be. He’d finally begun to take to heart Selene’s lesson: never forgetting who he was. Others wouldn’t forget his station, so it only put him at a disadvantage if he was the only one not considering it.

Since Will hadn’t replied, Master Courtney moved on. “How are the students coming along?”

“Nothing to see yet,” said Will. “They still have a few more months of boredom staring at their candles before I can try putting them through the first compression. Don’t worry, though. I’ll invite you to Rimberlin so you can observe and take notes when the time comes.”

“I appreciate that,” said the researcher.

Will nodded. “Well, I guess I’ll be on my way. I hope to be back in Rimberlin tonight.”

“You’ll be traveling in the dark. You’re not going to stay in Wurthaven this evening?”

He shook his head.

“Safe journey then,” said Master Courtney. He rose to see Will to the door but stopped as he was about to open it. “I was surprised to hear about the king’s choice for governor of Darrow.”

“Really?”

“I’m sure most thought it would be you.”

Will smiled. “I would have refused. As it is, I feel badly for Lord Nerrow—he’s still stuck in Maldon overseeing things. I’m sure he’s glad to hear that Lord Bradshaw will be taking his place so he can return and see his family.”

“Even so, you led the campaign. Yours should be the greatest reward.”

“I’m still not comfortable being a duke. The last thing I want is more money or titles,” said Will.

Master Courtney’s expression seemed to indicate he thought that to be an odd sentiment, but he didn’t argue the point. Opening the door, he wished his former student well, and then Will was on his way.

***

Martin Bradshaw opened his eyes and stared around the dark interior of his room. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it might be. His wards were still intact, and they were far more thorough than the simpler wards that the military sorcerers were putting around the walls of Klendon. Nothing could pass through them without alerting him.

Gradually, he became aware of a darkness in the corner of the room, a place harder to see than the other corners, as though his eyes didn’t want to look there. Clenching his jaw, Martin focused his attention and brought his wayward eyes under control.

His heart skipped a beat when he finally spotted two eyes staring back at him. A man sat unnoticed in the chair there. “Good evening, Martin,” said the visitor.

Martin recognized the man immediately, but that only increased his fear. “How did you get in here?”

“I walked. No one paid much heed to me for some reason.”

“The wards—”

“Are still intact, as they still will be tomorrow. You know why I’m here, don’t you?”

“No idea. Unless you blame me for what happened. I had no say in who the king appoints to govern the—”

A source-link flashed into existence, and Martin found both his voice and his body paralyzed. The man rose from his chair and walked over to stare down at him. “I’m going to return your ability to speak in a moment, and when I do I want answers, not lies. This will be your only chance to convince me you deserve to live.”

“It was the king’s idea,” said Martin the instant his voice returned. “Not mine! I never wanted to do any of it. I like you, William! If anything, I would have preferred we become allies. Now that you’ve escaped all his traps, we have an opportunity to work together.”

Will’s eyes were cold as he stared at the man he had once thought might be his friend. “A partial truth, not that it matters. I lied—I’m going to kill you whatever you say. Would you like to know why?”

“They’ll know it was you. Think it through, William! What’s the king going to do once they find your traces in this room?”

Will held up one hand. It was covered in a particular frequency of void turyn. “They’re not going to think a human did this. I can assure you of that.”

Martin’s eyes went wide with fear. “How?”

“The same way I bypassed your wards, not that it should matter to a man who is about to be dead. It’s enough that you know that the identification spells they try to use won’t show them my face, no matter who casts them. I’ve tested it to be sure. Even my lovely wife returned a blank when she tried it, and she’s closer to me than any of the king’s investigators.”

Martin started to reply, but Will paralyzed the man’s throat again and continued, “Speaking of my wife, she’s half the reason you’re dying tonight. I might have forgiven you for trying to have me killed, but she nearly died at the same time. The second reason is my friend, Bug. He died apologizing for what you forced him to do.”

“It was clever how you tried to frame Lustral, but it was also your undoing. Even after Selene figured out that one of the two of you must have approved the gold transfer, I still might have thought it was him, but after Bug brought me Lustral’s research journal, I knew that that didn’t make sense.”

Will leaned closer, his eyes burning with dark fury. “But it was talking to your other master, Grim Talek, that made everything clear to me. Until then, I didn’t realize he was also pulling the strings, and that the silver tablets were his. From there, I realized you were almost certainly the one who killed Elizabeth Sundy. You were the one who asked Lustral to uncover the workings of the silver tablet, knowing I would spy on him and see him with it.” He released Martin’s throat for a moment to hear his reply.

“William, please think about this! Why would I assume you would discover Lustral had the tablet? It makes no sense. Give me a chance to explain my side of this misunderstanding.”

The continued lies made Will even angrier. “It’s too late for you now, but in your next life, be more careful when you make deals with the fae. My grandmother may have traded you that information about my astral abilities, but she didn’t agree to keep the fact that she gave you that tidbit of knowledge a secret from me. Although I found it rather annoying that she hid the knowledge until after I slew Elthas and renegotiated the accord with her.”

Martin looked confused. “Grandmother?”

“Aislinn.”

Martin Bradshaw’s face went ashen, and his lips opened in panic. “You—!”

He paralyzed the frightened man again, then finished the sentence for him, “—don’t care. I’m sorry, Martin—not for killing you, though—I’m sorry for how I’m going to kill you. You see, in order to perfect this scene, you need to die in a way that’s consistent with story I’m creating. Fortunately, your master was kind enough to teach me one of his spells. It’s a nasty piece of work. It leaves the skin intact while grinding up your bones and internal organs.”

The older nobleman’s eyes bugged out of his head, but despite his terror, he was completely unable to move. Will released the spell he’d prepared and watched as the new governor’s skin writhed grotesquely. The room was filled with the sickening sound of bones popping and grinding as they shifted and churned through the hapless man’s flesh. While his skin remained unbroken, blood and other fluids began leaking from every orifice, staining the man’s nightclothes and bedsheets.

It was a small mercy that since Martin Bradshaw had no supernatural healing abilities, he died within the first ten or fifteen seconds, cutting short his suffering.

Despite his anger, the sights, sounds, and smells turned Will’s stomach, but he didn’t retch or vomit. Sadly, he had come a long way from the young man who had once vomited into the snow after beating a soldier to death with his staff. Turning his back on the dead man, he increased the turyn sensitivity of his eyes and reexamined the room again, making sure the traces of magic he left behind were only those he intended to leave.

It matched Grim Talek’s turyn signature fairly closely, though Will was working purely from memory. A perfect match would only be helpful if one of the investigators actually knew the lich, which was unlikely. As things stood, it would be very obvious that an undead monster had snuck in and killed Governor Bradshaw, and if Lognion happened to have knowledge of the spell used, it would essentially cinch the case that something terribly evil had done the deed.

I don’t think he’d believe I was capable of something like this, thought Will. In truth, he wished he wasn’t capable of it, but over the last two years he had been forced to change his view of himself. He wanted to do the right thing, but he was becoming less and less squeamish about how he accomplished his goals.

Will left the same way he had entered—on foot—and the guards were none the wiser. After he was out of Klendon, he walked a mile or two before calling for Tailtiu. Taking a route that once might have been too dangerous for him, they arrived in Rimberlin within a few hours.

Selene was waiting for him when he came in. “How did it go?”

He wrinkled his nose. “The spell was even more disgusting than I expected, but I didn’t leave any traces that don’t fit our story.”

She nodded. “Want some tea?” He nodded, and she called Jeremy to get the kettle heating. Then she led him to a couch and sat beside him so she could rub his shoulders. “Just relax. You’ve had a hard day.”

Will jerked away. “Stop. That’s seriously creepy.”

“Why?”

“I feel like a serial killer who just came home to his psychotic wife who then congratulates him on a day of gruesome murders. I don’t want this to feel normal. I don’t want to relax. We should both feel bad about this.”

She studied his face for a moment, then replied, “But you don’t, do you?”

“I feel terrible,” he lied.

“No, you don’t.” She turned him around and began rubbing his shoulders again.

Despite himself, he felt the tension in his muscles fading. “Damn you. That feels good.”

“I know,” she responded. After a few minutes, she stopped, then asked, “Are you sure it was wise to point the finger at the lich?”

Will shrugged. “No one knows where he is anyway. If we had done it any other way, your father would have assumed it was me.”

She nodded. “That would have made him happy, and he would have seen you as an even worthier opponent. Whatever his plans are for you, he probably would have sped them up. This way he’ll suspect a new player in the game while also assuming you’re too weak to respond to his challenge.”

“Challenge?”

“Appointing Bradshaw instead of you or your father,” she clarified. “This way he will be less wary.”

That reminded him of another worry. “Ugh! What am I going to do if he appoints me as governor?”

“He won’t,” Selene answered confidently. “He would only do that if he decided he wanted to keep you alive longer. Moving you to Darrow and giving you more responsibility would make sense then, but you’re too popular right now. Rather than take the risk of setting the stage for a civil war, he’ll keep you here, close by, so he can see what you’re doing until he eliminates you for good.”

“That’s a relief, but I’m not sure I’ll be much happier if he appoints Mark Nerrow to the job.”

Selene’s expression turned sympathetic. “You’ve gotten a lot closer to him.”

He nodded. “He’ll want to restore Myrsta, and that’s a long trip just to visit someone. Not to mention my sisters would be expected to go with him.”

“Not until they finish their training,” said Selene.

“That’s just a year or two, probably.”

“Then we’d better make certain those city teleport beacons get built.” Leaning in, she gave him a brief kiss. “Don’t be so glum. There’s a lot to look forward to in the future. The information you gained from your grandmother will have a lot of far-reaching effects—and you are largely the one to credit for the benefits that result.”

The kiss had sent a warmth through him, and Will was eager to forget the chill of the night. “I’m tired of thinking of distant rewards,” he proclaimed.

She frowned. “What does that mean? You should always keep the future in mind—wooo!” She shouted in alarm as he stood and then picked her up without warning. As he carried her toward the stairs, she asked, “What about the tea?”

“To hell with it. For the moment all I can think about is a certain short-term reward.”

She laughed, and her laughing got louder by the time he reached the top of the stairs. Climbing the steps with her in his arms had nearly exhausted him. When he set her down at the top, she danced away on light feet. “You poor man,” she taunted. “Now that you’ve worn yourself out, I doubt you can catch me.”

Still panting, he grinned. “Start running and we’ll see.”

Keep an eye out for the next book:

The Wizard’s Crown

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Epilogue