by Joshua Ingle
Wanderer was calming now, and pacing again, shaking his head. “I knew a Sanctuary was a bad idea. I knew it would backfire, even with an army inside it with you. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it.”
“A Sanctuary was the only killing ground safe from the Judges’ prying eyes. Or so I thought. And what do you mean ‘backfire’?”
Wanderer hesitated, drew his wings closer to his body, and looked Marcus in the eyes. “You are loyal to me, yes?”
“Absolutely.” Mostly.
“There are things about Sanctuaries that I haven’t told you, and I’m afraid I should explain them to you now, because they may impact part of my plan. The Enemy plays cruel games in them. He even lets some humans who die in the Sanctuaries live. You see, He uses Sanctuaries for purposes other than testing humans. He—”
“Wanderer. Stop with this nonsense. It’s common knowledge that Sanctuaries exist to test humans, and for that purpose alone. Humans who die in Sanctuaries stay dead. If this weren’t the case, what glory would Sanctuaries hold for us?”
Wanderer seemed unusually introspective at that. His eyes darted back and forth, nearly as jittery as the side of his mouth. But he said nothing, so Marcus continued: “What will you tell me next, that Sanctuaries exist for demons’ sake, as Thorn claimed before he died? I’m questioning whether I should still follow someone who would question truth the way you’ve just done. You can’t be serious.”
Wanderer looked down at the concrete floor, at the mop bucket, at a side passage that led into darkness. Then he turned back to Marcus and smiled his trademarked toothy smile. His whole demeanor relaxed. “No, of course I wasn’t serious. I was just testing your devotion to our cause, because I need you to do something very urgent and time-sensitive for me.”
Marcus nodded, eager to get down to business. “I thought so. Wanderer, I need no explanations; I never have. When you say, ‘Slay two demon lords at Thebes and you won’t be harmed,’ I will obey you. When you say, ‘Give a Roman Emperor a vision of the Enemy,’ I will obey you, even if it costs me my reputation throughout modern history.”
“Backfire” would be a gross understatement for that mess. In fact, at the time, Marcus had hoped to play Xeres and Wanderer against each other so that Marcus himself would come out on top. But Wanderer didn’t need to know about any of that. “If you say something very urgent needs to be done now, I will obey you. I don’t need to know your plan, for I have seen your intellect used to level human cities and slaughter whole armies of angels. I have faith in you. You can have faith in me.”
Marcus’s old ally was smiling much wider now, buying everything he said. Marcus had always had Wanderer in the palm of his hand.
“This is a precaution, just to be safe,” Wanderer said. “It may not mean anything, but it may be of utmost importance. I need you to go into another Sanctuary and collect a few of its humans. Don’t kill them. Bring them to an isolated place in the Corridors where no one will ever find them, but keep them fed. Keep them alive.”
Marcus had meant what he’d said—he truly didn’t need to know why he was being sent on this strange mission—but the request did confuse him. “You want me to kidnap humans from a Sanctuary?”
“Yes. I’ll send five of my other most trusted followers with you. They’re in lesser positions, so they’ll defer to your leadership. I wouldn’t normally send you to do this task after your failure in the last Sanctuary, but I trust your hatred of Thorn more than I trust you.”
“Failure? Thorn? I’m not following.”
Wanderer sighed—for emphasis rather than for breath. The tic at the edge of his mouth seemed to intensify. “There’s something dreadful that I fear the Enemy—” He seemed to think deeply for a moment. “Yes, the Enemy. There’s something dreadful that He might do, not because He accepts Thorn or wants him back in any way, but rather to spite me and my ambitions.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that in the Sanctuary to which I’m sending you, there’s a slim possibility that Thorn will show up. If he does, kill him. He’ll stay dead this time.”
“You’re speaking nonsense, Wanderer. Thorn is already dead.”
“Dead, yes. But thanks to you, he’s not entirely out of the picture.”
THORN’S STORY CONTINUES…
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Acknowledgments
I owe loads of gratitude to Robert Eichenberg, Robin Ingle, Marissa DePasquale, and David Sigurani for their feedback and encouragement during the writing of these Thorn books. Extra special thanks goes to Fedor Steer, whose dedication to this project and willingness to give continued criticism over the span of years is humbling and greatly appreciated. Thank you, Fedor, for offering your sharp eyes to these books from the very beginning—and for lending your face to their covers! Thanks also to Reid Nicewonder, for challenging me to always think deeper.
The largest slice of my Thank You pie goes to David Gatewood, whose deft editing took my raw story and raised it to the next level. David, thank you for your honesty and your keen insight, and for helping me craft these books into something truly special.
Last but certainly not least, thank you, dear reader. You’re the reason I write. Without you taking a chance on my books, their stories are just thoughts in my head that I happened to scribble on a page. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
About Joshua Ingle
Joshua Ingle is a pathologically curious sci-fi and fantasy geek. The Thorn Saga is his first series of books.
Learn more at www.joshuaingle.com.
Connect with Josh at www.facebook.com/joshthestoryteller.