“Jero—” Will recoiled. There was no further motion from din’Dael, but Will’s cheek erupted in fiery pain. The warmth of it made the sudden shock of cold that followed all the more biting. Jero’s hand remained in the air, his face twisted in disappointment.
“Enough, Thorne. We shall discuss your transgressions against the Sapholux at a later date.”
My transgressions? What the hell? He stared at din’Dael in bewilderment. Something had gone wrong—very wrong. For din’Dael to be behaving in such a fashion? Someone made a big goddam mistake.
Din’Dael turned his attention to Morella and scoffed, the only acknowledgment she received. He then glanced past her and saw Cephora. “Cephora.” His face split into a wild, manic grin. “It has been too long! How lovely to see you.”
Will stared at din’Dael while he lavished compliment after compliment upon the Seeker. What the hell is going on?
“Enough, din’Dael,” Cephora interrupted him. “What is the situation?”
“Come, let us discuss these matters out of this dreadful weather.” Din’Dael spun and strode back toward the camp. He paused after a few steps and glanced back at Will.
“Thorne, dispose of that”—he waved absently at Morella and Will felt her fume—“first. Really, I can’t believe you brought a pet.”
“A pet?” Morella raged. She lunged toward din’Dael and Will was forced to hold her back. “You goddam bastard. You foolish, idiotic Lightborne. Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
Din’Dael cocked his head to the side and appraised her. “No.”
He strode away.
“Gods be damned, Will,” Cephora whispered under her breath. “You said that his mind was intact.”
“A pet? A pet?” Morella stepped away from them, shouting after Din’Dael.
“It was,” Will said quickly while trying to catch Morella’s eye. “He’s been fine for . . . for years now.”
“I’ll show you a goddam pet, you bastard!” Morella screamed.
Cephora frowned and turned her gaze back to the silent camp. “Something has happened, then.” She scanned their surroundings, giving nearly imperceptible nods to unseen figures. “This location, it is hardly along the path between Greygarde and the Sapholux.”
Will’s tore his eyes from the still-muttering Morella back to the camp. He pulled his cloak closer around him. “I don’t like this. There are too few of the Lightborne. There should be more.”
The Seeker nodded gravely. “The same for my people as well.” Her eyes trailed after the nearly vanished figure of din’Dael. “Our information is dated. We need to know what has changed.”
Morella returned to them, her normally pale face flushed. “Will, if you think for one moment that you’re leaving me behind . . .”
He held up a placating hand. “No. Gods, no.” Her expression didn’t change. Will reached down and wrapped his hands around her balled fists, giving her the most sincere smile he could manage. “I promised, didn’t I? I’m not leaving you.”
The tension lingered between them. Then, finally, her face softened slightly. She very nearly smiled. But the anger in her eyes was constant, a blazing fury she couldn’t mask. “Good.” She followed Cephora’s gaze in the direction din’Dael had gone. “Because that bastard owes me an apology.”
The weary trio made their way into the Lightborne camp. This time, Will was able to feel the eyes that watched his every move. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Even though the unseen lookouts must have known him as one of their own, there was an air of hostility—a sense of seclusion and secrecy. He didn’t like it.
Din’Dael made for a tent at the far end of the camp while Cephora and Morella followed. Will stayed a few paces behind, scrutinizing the camp. At first glance it seemed neat and orderly. But, much as in Undermyre, upon closer inspection it seemed ragged. Everywhere he looked, it was like the lines weren’t clean, the edges were frayed. Something is definitely off.
Shaking his head, Will entered the tent. He was surprised to find Lightborne other than din’Dael inside. Rienne was there, and Quennar, but neither looked up at Will’s entrance. The familiar faces were comforting, but one was missing. Kenwal, whom Will had grown accustomed to seeing whenever the lieutenants met, was nowhere to be seen. Both of the Lightborne looked haggard. There was a fatigue about them, a tiredness in the whites of their eyes. There was something else there, too, a sense of . . . Detachment?
The hairs on the back of Will’s neck prickled. “What happened?”
Rienne glanced up. It seemed to take her a moment to recognize him, but after a moment she smiled. “Noctis. You’ve returned to us.” Her voice was light and passive.
Dissociated . . . Will shuddered.
Quennar’s eyes were fixed on his hands. His fingers were trembling slightly. Thin, faint cracks of light periodically snapped across his skin. He had not acknowledged their entrance nor reacted when din’Dael bumped him as he crouched down. Will stared at Quennar a moment, realizing that the man’s lips were moving rapidly but the words were silent.
“Sit.” Din’Dael pointed toward empty spaces on the floor. The man’s smile was cruel, but there was a sadness in his eyes that gave Will pause. “Go, Thorne.”
What, will we devolve to grunts next?
Nonetheless, he did as he was bid although Cephora made no effort to do so. As for Morella, Will had never seen her so guarded—not even in the depths of the Shale. Her eyes flashed to each of the seated Lightborne as though they were predators and she their cornered prey. Finally, she dropped to her knees next to Will. Despite this, she kept her body angled toward the door. Will leaned over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, but she ripped it away from him and clenched her fists, nearly snarling as she did so.
Will sighed and shook his head. He looked at din’Dael. “Jero, what happened here? Where is everyone?”
The Revenant cocked his head to the side and burst into laughter. Rienne shrank away but Quennar seemed to not even register the sound.
“What happened, Thorne? What happened?” Din’Dael wiped a tear from his eye. Then his face dropped and a black rage replaced the humor. Spittle flew from his mouth when he spoke. “Sheep, Noctis. I’m a shepherd of sheep.”
Cephora scoffed then gave a quiet “hmph” from behind Will. Will glanced at her, but she was focused intently on din’Dael and shaking her head. Not understanding, Will pressed on.
“Right, the shepherd tends to his flock and you guided them here, and then?” I’m missing something. “You’ve spent years guiding them, Jero, I get that. I’m asking what happened? Where is everyone?”
“Gone.” Rienne’s voice was a distant whisper. The edge of her mouth twitched in a broken facsimile of a smile. “They—”
“They’re pathetic sheep,” din’Dael sneered, cutting her off. “All this time, all my life surrounded by warriors, by wolves and beasts. Time stripped them of their claws.” He glared at Quennar and spat. “They’re failures. All of them.”
Rienne winced and looked to the ground.
“Well, well, the mighty Jero din’Dael failed.” Morella’s voice was filled with malice. “It’s no more than you deserve, you murdering bastard.”
Din’Dael eyed her as if she had suddenly sprouted wings. He shook his head and turned his attention back to Will, gesturing at Morella as he did so. “What is that?”
“Dammit, din’Dael, quit with the damn dismissals!” Will snapped. “This is Morella Darklore; we’ve spoken of her many times.”
“Who?” Din’Dael looked genuinely puzzled.
“Just focus for one minute.” Will pinched his brow and shook his head. His goddam mind is twisted again. “Just answer me. What happened? What happened after I left the Sapholux?”
Din’Dael turned the same bewildered stare he had given Morella over to Will. “We prepared for the march to Undermyre. Come now, Noctis. Have your recent journeys scattered your brain so much that you’ve forgotten what you set out to prepare for?
”
This is not the same man I trained with, good god. “I remember.”
“Jero din’Dael.” Cephora’s voice was resonant and commanding. All eyes—save Quennar’s—turned to her. “You dispatched Dahla to bring aid, to bring Noctis Thorne. We have come. What was your purpose in sending for us?”
“He didn’t send for you,” came a gruff voice at their backs. “I did.”
Will spun and crouched, his Flare blazing to life. Morella moved in unison with him, her daggers flashing in the dim light of the tent. No one else reacted in the slightest except for Cephora. She chuckled and shook her head. Din’Dael sighed and crossed his hands behind his head before leaning straight back onto the ground.
Will’s fingers twitched on their blades and he scowled at din’Dael. Typical, danger approaches and din’Dael takes a nap. He took a step closer to Morella and eyed the intruder.
The burly man was tall, though not as tall as din’Dael, and thick with muscle. His black hair was cropped close to his head and a thick black beard was cut square across his face. He was dressed for the weather, in shaggy, though fitted, clothes. He radiated an aura of power, of danger, but Will saw no weapons.
The large man turned his attention to Cephora. “Earth Warder, I’m glad you have come.”
What happened next nearly sent Will reeling backward: Cephora laughed.
“It is good to see you, Shyldd,” she said. “How fares Greygarde?”
The man—Shyldd—shrugged. “You’ve returned to our halls since I, old friend.”
Cephora chuckled. “You heard about that, did you.”
“News travels fast.” Shyldd’s voice was a deep rumble. “Where is the Shadowborne now?”
“Elsewhere.” Cephora’s smile drooped. “But, from the reports I’ve gathered, he seems to be passably safe.” She scoffed and muttered under her breath, “Or at least he seems to think he is.”
“Ah yes, the Borne are full of bravado.” Shyldd jerked his head toward the inhabitants of the tent. “Particularly this lot.”
Cephora stepped next to Shyldd and the pair of them eyed the occupants. “Yes, it would seem that the Lightborne have been keeping things rather close to the chest for some time now.”
Will rose from his crouch, uncomfortable with the way Shyldd and Cephora were peering at them. From the corner of his eye he saw Morella tense. “Pardon me for asking, Cephora,” he said as neutrally as possible, “but would you mind filling in some gaps for the uneducated in the room?”
Shyldd gave a hearty laugh that reverberated against the tent walls. “Ah, and you must be the brother, yes? The Lightborne I’ve heard so much about. Noctis Thorne, is it?”
Will glanced over at din’Dael before answering. Sure, we’ll go back to that name for now. “I’ve worn multiple names in my life thus far, and that is one I’ve been known by.”
The man’s grin remained and he nodded to himself. “Aye, Thorne. I am Shyldd of the Seekers.” His eyes dropped down to Will’s hands and he raised his eyebrows conspiratorially. “Are you still planning to attack?”
Flare still burning, Will met the Seeker’s knowing grin with one of his own. “You never know what might happen,” he said nonchalantly. “Best to stay prepared.”
“Apparently,” Morella muttered while she looked at the flames wisping about his fists. Her blades disappeared into the folds of her cloak. She rose and brushed her hands on her legs. “Morella Darklore, Shyldd.” Her voice was both whimsical and condescending. “Pleasure to meet you. Now, what the hell is going on?”
“Fiery one, eh?” Shyldd grinned wide and nudged Cephora. “I like her.” Cephora snorted while Shyldd puffed up his chest.
Morella appraised the Seeker. “Oh, you have no idea.” She smiled flirtatiously at the large man and Will felt a warmth rush through him that had nothing do to with flames. The Seeker himself rumbled with chuckles and nodded while Cephora’s smile fell away.
For his part, Will kept his mouth shut but felt embarrassed at the jealousy. Jesus, Will, because she smiled at someone? He shook his head, exasperated at himself. Lighten the hell up.
“Aye, well, now that introductions are taken care of”—Shyldd nodded his head toward Morella—“if she’s traveling with you, I’m assuming she gets to listen?”
Cephora sniffed. “Oh, you couldn’t keep information from this one if you tried, Shyldd.”
He smiled. “Very well then. Here’s the lay of it. That one there”—he gestured to Rienne—“was en route to the Garde, it seems. Another one of din’Dael’s masterstrokes toward world domination, no doubt. She came across a Necrothanian camp, a big one.”
“Shyldd, I received your message.” Cephora chuckled. “Move it along.”
“So that’s how it’s to be, is it?” Shyldd raised an eyebrow and smiled. Despite the brief bout of jealousy, Will couldn’t help liking him. “Aye, well. The Sapholux was already on the march, it would seem, so they diverted to the camp. Dahla found me and mine. We were in the area but a few days off. Let me tell you, I wasn’t prepared for the sight of that man again”—he tilted his head toward din’Dael—“let alone at the head of a damned army of Lightborne bedecked in the splendor of aerilite.” He didn’t take his eyes off the prone figure. “Brought back all the wrong kinds of memories.”
“I’m familiar with the sentiment,” Cephora said.
“Well, wherever the hell he’d been hiding him and his, it had done wonders for his mind, if you catch what I’m saying. Nothing like the man I recalled from the Plains of Desolation. Here, he was convincing. Eloquent, even. But, my own personal thoughts aside, we shared a common enemy then, as ever. We decided that a . . . temporary alliance would be in order.” Shyldd rolled his shoulders back and crossed his arms. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do it to try to and keep him in check should his old character present itself.”
Will’s eyes followed Shyldd’s. The Revenant had begun humming to himself, the same way he had on the night Will and Madigan first rescued him. Looks like that old character is back, alright.
“They had a larger force, so we broke off. Moved ahead faster to scout the area. What we found . . .” He trailed off and shook his head. “Well, it wasn’t quite the force we’d anticipated but it was enough. Certainly more than our own. No matter what angle we approached it from, we couldn’t see how we’d be able to take the camp. There was a bottleneck, a cave entrance that them was filing through. If we could make it past their initial resistance, surprise them, push them back into the cave, their numbers wouldn’t matter. An initial push, then a straightforward matter of containment.” He looked pointedly at din’Dael. “I should have remembered that things are rarely so simple when dealing with the Borne.”
“It’s been some time since any Necrothanians were amassed in force,” Cephora said, placing a hand on his arm. “We have all grown soft in the peace.”
“Aye, well. Din’Dael wouldn’t hear anything I said. Oh, at first he listened, gave council. But then that other one, Kenwal? He stepped forward and started to strategize. His plan was . . . conservative, but potentially effective. No glory to be had but little risk. Now, I don’t know the current state of the Sapholux—gods, but a few days ago I didn’t even know that such words could still be uttered—but din’Dael?” Shyldd sighed and shook his head. “He wouldn’t hear it. There was a tension there between those two, obvious to all of us. Words were exchanged—half of it I couldn’t even follow— but, in essence, din’Dael dressed the man down in front of everyone. In one gesture he brushed aside Kenwal’s plan and abandoned my own. He opted for a show of force.”
Will groaned. “God dammit, Jero.”
Shyldd held up a hand. “To be fair, he didn’t seem himself, Noctis. It was as if . . . as if he was battling with something, something inside him. Two sides of him vying for control. I can’t explain it any better than that. He was trailing his words, irritated and distracted. If it had been a small gathering, we could’ve contained it until the spell pa
ssed. But as I said, this was right in the middle of camp. And those damn Lightborne, they love that man. They believed in him to a fault.”
Morella snickered and Will glanced over at her. She looked amused. Gods, she really does hate din’Dael.
“Din’Dael gave the orders and the Lightborne spread out, moving to circle the Necrothanian camp. They were overextended and spread thin. Exposed. The terrain made it that much harder. Kenwal, again he spoke against din’Dael. You could see the effect the discord was having on the Lightborne. The old Blades, they’d seen battle. The rest though, those who’d been reared in the safety of the Sapholux and never in the world beyond it? They didn’t hesitate. Din’Dael pointed and they followed.”
“It was different, Noctis,” Rienne spoke suddenly. She stared at the ground, her expression vacant. “The Necrothanians, they weren’t . . . it wasn’t like training. They’re not human. They’re not even alive. They’re . . .” she trailed off.
“The faction split, Noctis,” Shyldd said solemnly.
Cephora cursed and glared at din’Dael’s immobile form. Will felt a sense of hopeless dread creep into his body.
“Kenwal and the Blades refused to follow din’Dael. Them two”—he nodded to Rienne and Quennar—“were the only of ’em stuck around. I’d say a good quarter of the remaining Borne abandoned the battle before it even started. Din’Dael may as well’ve said good riddance to them.”
“Dammit.” Will closed his eyes and shook his head. “Dammit, dammit, dammit.”
“At this point, me and the Seekers tried to stop him. Tried to convince him to back down, regroup. When their brethren abandoned them, well, you could see the fear that set into the rest of the Lightborne. That man, though, he wouldn’t hear it. Accused us of growing complacent, weak. ‘I’ll remind you of what strength is,’ he said.”
“Shyldd . . .” Cephora’s face looked ashen in the dim light.
He held up a steady hand to her. “I called for the Seekers to stand down an’ they did. But din’Dael still ordered the attack.”
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