by D. C. Payson
Thezdan opened his eyes again and looked up to find Scylld standing over him with a hand extended. Thezdan took it and rose to his feet, his eyes spotting Ennik’s limp body tucked under Scylld’s other arm.
“I would not have survived without you,” Thezdan said quietly.
In the moonlight, he could see Scylld stand at his full height and raise a clenched hand across his body in salute.
“No, my friend, no,” said Thezdan, shaking his head as he put a hand against Scylld’s arm. “You owe me no further service.”
Scylld continued to hold his salute.
Thezdan shook his head again and smiled. “At the very least you must rest for a while. I saw the wounds in your hide; you need time to heal. Give me Ennik. I will carry him home.”
Scylld rumbled in acknowledgement and passed the dead body to Thezdan, who carefully slung it over his shoulder.
“Rest well, Scylld,” said Thezdan, raising his own free arm in salute.
Scylld rumbled once more and turned to head west into the forest. Once the Ogar had passed from sight into the trees, Thezdan trudged down the road in the direction of the fort. Heading up the footpath, he could see the ambient light of the courtyard was brighter tonight than usual.
“Announce yourself!” a guard called as he approached.
Thezdan looked up toward the tower. “Eodan,” he called back. “Tell Alana and Lothic to meet me right away!”
“Of course, Eo!” shouted the guard.
Thezdan passed through the gates and immediately caught sight of his mother and Lothic rushing toward him, a crowd of No and En holding torches in the background.
“Oh, Eodan,” Alana said emotionally, reaching past the body to clutch the back of his neck. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, Mother,” he said. He lay the corpse on the ground. “Where is Julia?”
Alana looked at the body, then she reached down and turned the head to face them. She gasped loudly, recoiling in shock.
“Goddess … ” Lothic mumbled loudly. “It’s Ennik.”
“He was afflicted by some kind of evil magic,” said Thezdan. “We should try to understand what it was. But first, I need to find Julia. Do you know where she is?”
Lothic didn’t respond, appearing distracted. Alana stared back blankly.
“Mother, where is Julia!” Thezdan asked pointedly. “Is she safe?”
Alana reached out a hand. “Eodan, we—”
Her hesitation communicated all that Thezdan needed to know.
“Is that a search party?” he asked, pointing toward the torch-bearers. “What happened to her?” Just then, he spotted Entaurion standing among the young warriors. “How is it that Entaurion is here? Where is Julia?”
“With Sinox, Eodan,” Lothic interjected. “They are both missing.”
Thezdan’s eyes flashed with fury. “WHY?” he roared. Then, amid his anger, clarity.
“We don’t know yet, Eodan,” said Lothic. “We are forming up search groups to go looking for them.”
Thezdan ignored Lothic; he already knew where they were. He grabbed one of the torches mounted against the front wall and ran back through the gate.
“Eodan, stop!” yelled Lothic from behind, to no avail.
Thezdan sprinted down the path, his legs rejuvenated by his Guardian’s fire.
Call to me, Julia! I am coming!
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I’d like to thank my wife, Julia, whose life provided much of the inspiration for this book. She was also generous with her support and expert eye as an editrix—and without those things, I doubt I ever would have finished The Lost Princess of Aevilen. I’d also like to thank and acknowledge Mike Varley, my friend and freelance editor, who helped me to shape the story in its earliest days.
D. C. Payson
DC Payson is a biotech entrepreneur who chases down exciting new therapeutics for Parkinson’s disease by day, and builds expansive fantasy universes by night. Inspired to write by the birth of his son, Henry, DC began working on the Lost series in 2012, basing it loosely on real-life events in his wife’s life.
When not working or writing, DC enjoys spending time with his family in New York, playing video games or badminton with his kids, and relishing the affection of his furry companion/sidekick, Freya the Mini-Schnauzer.
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