The inside of the inn was dark, illuminated by a few scattered Sunlamps that looked as if they might burn out at any second. Thankfully, Kadin no longer had that effect on Sunlamps because he was aware of his powers now.
A few people sat at tables scattered about the room, carrying on quiet conversations as they ate. The people here didn't wear as thick of furs as the people wore back home. It wasn't exactly warm in the Realm of Shade, but it was warmer than Hyrandel.
The innkeeper watched them with a curious frown. "You don't look familiar."
"We're from far away," Deril said, hoping the man wouldn't probe any further.
"How far?"
"You wouldn't know of the place. It's weeks and weeks from here."
The innkeeper shrugged. "Well, around here, it doesn't really matter where you came from. As long as you've got money." He narrowed his eyes. "You do have money, don't you?"
"Of course." Deril reached into his pocket, feeling for the size and shape of Tarileth's bronze coins. He didn't want to advertise how much money they had. A few of the people in the inn looked as if they might not make an honest living. In truth, Deril didn't know what to expect in this place. He had to be wary of everyone and everything.
When Deril revealed a small handful of coins, the innkeeper frowned again. "Tarilethi coins. Haven't seen those around here in a while. You're not from the Realm of Shade, are you?"
Deril hesitated. He didn't know how to answer that.
"Relax," the innkeeper said. "I don't care where you came from. Most people around here don't. It's a bit unusual to get visitors from beyond the Realm, but not unheard of." He narrowed his eyes again. "Now, you aren't with the Church, are you?"
Deril heard the same disgust in the innkeeper's tone that he'd heard from the merchant. The people in this place were not fond of the Church. Deril couldn't blame them.
"We're not with the Church," he said. "In fact, we're running from them."
The innkeeper's expression became suddenly stern. "They better not be close behind. The last thing we need here is the Church."
"No, I don't think they should be," said Deril's father. "We went through a random gateway. They weren't able to follow us."
"For all our sakes," the innkeeper said, "let's hope you're right about them. We haven't seen the Church around here in a long time. Whenever they come, they bring death and destruction." His gaze remained stern. "I suggest you leave as quickly as possible."
"We will," Deril said. "But first we need some provisions, and some information."
"I can try to help you," the innkeeper said, leaning on a stone counter. "Provisions should be no problem. You obviously have the money for them." He lowered his voice. "In the future, I'd suggest being a bit more careful about searching for your money. I could hear all those coins jingling in your pocket."
"Don't worry," Deril said. "We'll be more careful."
The innkeeper stood up straight. "What information do you need?"
Deril glanced at his father, looking for guidance. His father was a Sunlord, but he'd never been one to take the lead of a group. Deril didn't feel that it came naturally to him either, but somehow he always ended up in that position.
"We need to know the location of two things: the Source and the god Vardin."
"Luckily for you," the innkeeper said, "they are both in the same direction. You'll follow the road east from town. When you get to the city of Morindel, you'll turn north. From there, it's a short journey to the Source. I should warn you that the Church has a lot of security around there. Don't know how you'll get past them, but you look determined. After you've been to the Source, you'll head north along the road from there. It'll be a long journey, but eventually you will reach Mist's End. Again, getting into there won't be easy, but that's not my problem."
Deril felt as if they were swimming in a sea of problems. How could they survive in this place without using their Sunweaving? Of the four, only Deril had some skill with a sword. His father had once practiced swordplay, but it had been a long time. Kadin and Tyrine looked as if they wouldn't know one end of a sword from the other.
"Is it possible to travel without Fireweaving?" Deril asked.
"Possible, yes," the innkeeper said. "Smart, definitely not. The roads are warded due to some technology we obtained from one of the other worlds connected through the Realm of Shade." He held up a hand. "Don't ask me how that happened. I don't know. But as I was saying, the roads are warded, but the wards sometimes fail. You should be prepared for any monsters that might threaten you. Could be bandits as well."
Deril took a few deep breaths, reining in his growing feeling of panic. "All right, then what do you think we should do?"
"I might have an answer for you." The innkeeper stepped out from behind the counter and motioned for them to follow. Deril did so hesitantly. The innkeeper seemed a good man, but Deril had to be wary. He hadn't trusted anyone since all this insanity began.
"What are you showing us?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and level.
"I'd like you to meet a man and a woman who might be able to help you. You might call them mercenaries. As long as the pay's good enough, they'll help you."
"We have money," Deril said, "so that shouldn't be a problem."
"For your sake, I hope it's enough."
The innkeeper led them to a table in the corner of the establishment. A man and a woman sat at that table. The woman was young, but the scars lining her face spoke of a difficult life. The man had dark hair, but that was all Deril could see.
Stopping by the table, the innkeeper cleared his throat. "I've got some work for you."
The woman looked up, and the man turned around. At first, his expression was blank, but then his eyes went wide, and he shook his head. Deril glanced to his right to see the same expression on Kadin's face. What in the Core was going on here?
Kadin spoke first. "Marell?"
"Kadin?"
Deril recognized the name Marell. Kadin had mentioned him as the overseer who'd helped him and Faina. Deril had asked Captain Hanir and the Sun Guard to find Marell so that he could be rewarded, but they'd had no luck—as if he had disappeared.
In a way, he had. But how had a simple overseer, a Suncaster, ended up here in the Realm of Shade? And what help could he be? He wasn't a Fireweaver.
The innkeeper shook his head. "I take it you two know each other?"
"It's a bit complicated," Kadin said. He still had that wide-eyed look, and Deril couldn't blame him. This seemed beyond coincidental. What were the chances that they'd run across someone Kadin knew here in the Realm of Shade? There was nothing in any religion about miracles or gods guiding people's lives, but someone must have made this happen.
"Please sit down," Marell said. "This explanation might take a while."
They gathered some of the inn's stone chairs and placed them around the table in awkward silence. No one spoke. Deril didn't know what to say. He had to get some answers first.
"I suppose I should introduce myself," the woman said. "I'm Catara. I'm one of the best mercenaries here in the Realm of Shade. Whatever job you have for me, I can do it—assuming you have the money, of course." She narrowed her eyes. "You look wealthy, but looks can be deceiving." She paused, eyeing Marell. "We'll discuss terms after Marell's tale. I must say it's an interesting one. Made me want to help him."
Kadin turned to Marell. "How'd you end up here?"
Marell took a few moments to gather his thoughts. "Well, after we parted ways, I thought I would go into hiding, but I didn't do so well. Some of the other overseers must have alerted the Sun Guard to my role in your escape. I was arrested two days after I left you. They were going to execute me, but then I got a visit from High Priest Teravin."
"Why would he visit you?" Deril asked.
"I was confused at the time. But he told me some very interesting things. For one thing, he can somehow do a weave that allows him to see glimpses of the future. As he describes it, it's not very pre
cise. He can see important people and events, but he told me that about five hundred years ago, the ability to read the future was damaged, almost destroyed. Over time, it has slowly returned, but it's not what it used to be."
Deril had always suspected there was more to Teravin than met the eye, but this was hard to believe. "But how could he know what happened five hundred years ago?"
"Because he was alive back then."
"Interesting," said Deril's father. "I'd always wondered why he never appeared to age much. It must be because he's a god, and gods do not age."
"I don't know if he's a god," Marell said, "but he's something different."
"And he told you to come here?" Deril asked. "With this ability to read the future?" At this point, Deril figured he could believe just about anything. The last weeks and months had upended everything he'd ever thought about the world.
He hated it.
"Not exactly. I suppose he did tell me to come to this place, but he expected me to be here in the company of Sun Guards. The Church's Sun Guards, I might add." He ran a hand through his dark beard. "I was sent here with them. They took me to this place known as the Source. The power of this place made me into a Sunweaver and Fireweaver. I don't know what to think of that, but I had no choice. I had to do it or they'd kill me."
Kadin leaned closer to Marell. "How'd you get away from them?"
"As it turns out, the Source made me quite the powerful Sunweaver or Fireweaver, not really sure which. I trapped them in the ground and took off. On the way there, they were foolish enough to tell me they struggled with Yellow/Green weaves, so I knew I could get away from them that way. Once I escaped, I remembered where Teravin told me to go, and so I got here as quickly as I could. I arrived two days ago, or at least I think it was two days. It's hard to tell in this place."
"How can anyone travel here?" Deril asked. "There's no sun or stars or anything."
Catara held up a small round object. "This is called a compass. It always points to the north. Don't ask me how it works. I don't know. I've heard that these came from another Realm of Shade. I try not to think about things like that."
Deril stood up and began pacing, trying to make sense of all this new information. It appeared Teravin was some kind of god. In a way, that didn't surprise Deril. The High Priest had always had a knack for knowing things and coming up with plans. And then there was the fact that he never seemed to age. Deril had never thought much of it, figuring time was kinder to Teravin than it was to most people.
"Why would Teravin want you to meet us in this place?" Deril asked Marell.
"He didn't tell me why I was supposed to come here, or who I'd meet here."
"It doesn't make sense, though," Deril said. "Not that long ago, Teravin was trying to kill us." He paced more feverishly. "Or was that all an act? I mean, if he is some sort of god, then surely he could have killed us if he'd really wanted. That suggests that he needs us for something. He saw something with this strange weave of prediction, and he needs us to achieve a goal. Knowing Teravin, I doubt that goal is something we'll like."
"He'll expect us to go to the Source," said Deril's father.
"I know," Deril said, "but what choice do we have? We can't survive down here with Sunweaving alone. It's a major risk, I know, in more ways than one." After all, if they became Fireweavers, that would put them at risk when they returned home. Or was there something different about people who were both Sunweavers and Fireweavers? Would they be recognized as Fireweavers? Deril had too many questions, and too few answers.
"We should get moving," Catara said, "if we intend to reach the Source quickly." She stared at Deril intently. "Now, about that payment."
Deril's body tensed. "How much do you require?"
"How much do you have?"
"We're not playing that game," Deril said. "Name your price. If we can pay it, we will, but don't try to get more out of us."
Catara smiled. "I see you know how to play this game." She frowned, looking deep in thought. "Two gold coins should do."
Deril reached into his pocket. He had nine or ten gold coins in there, so it was easy enough to pay two gold coins. He grabbed the coins and handed them to Catara. She examined them, furrowing her brow with suspicion, but once she deemed them genuine, she shoved them into her own pockets.
"I know you have more," she said.
"You named your price," Deril said. "We paid it."
She nodded. "You're right. I am a woman of my word. In my profession, you have to be. If you get a reputation for cheating your customers, you won't get many."
"Good," Deril said. "Then we have an understanding?"
"Yes, we do."
Deril couldn't decide if he liked Catara. She was blunt and straightforward, traits he usually didn't see in women. He didn't know her well enough to discern if she'd be honorable and true to her word. For the moment, he had to keep an eye on her.
He glanced at Kadin and Tyrine. Tyrine's eyes held a distant look, as if she couldn't believe anything that had happened. Deril couldn't blame her. Her life had followed unlikely and terrible paths, and none of it had been her fault. None of it should have happened.
Deril's family should have taken in Kadin's family and protected them. But there'd been so many other things to worry about that Deril had neglected this duty. He felt as if he'd failed Kadin as a brother. But he had to keep these thoughts to himself.
He was the leader here, and he needed to show confidence and resolve, even if he was scared witless on the inside.
The party of six left the inn and stepped out onto the town's misty streets. The mist was not as thick as it had once been, but it still swirled in the air, making Deril feel as if he couldn't breathe. A few other people walked the streets, smiling and carrying on with their days as if the mist didn't bother them.
They were used to it, Deril guessed. Perhaps he would learn to live with it as well.
But he doubted it.
They followed the road heading east from the small settlement. This was the same road they'd already traveled in the wagon, but Deril had no idea how he'd tell any road apart from another. There were few distinctive landmarks.
Ahead of him, there was nothing but rocks. That swirling mist drifted in the air, obscuring vision beyond perhaps a hundred feet. Anything could be lurking in that mist, waiting to attack. Deril kept peering into the distance, but he didn't see anything.
The air was silent. The mist felt heavy. The visibility became even less as they began traveling. To keep from getting separated, they held on to one another.
"Why can't we get some horses?" Kadin asked.
"Too expensive," Catara said. "Too easily spooked. I've always preferred my own feet. Besides, if we have to leave the road, we'll encounter too many monsters. The horses will be killed quickly."
"Do you think we'll have to leave the road?" Deril asked.
"Oh, it's almost a guarantee," she said.
Marell shook his head. "And it's my fault. I might have made it ahead of the Church's soldiers, but they know where I was going. They have to be close."
"Why would they attack us?" Deril asked. "I thought Teravin wanted you to come here."
"Teravin may be the leader of the Church back in our world," Marell said, "but he told me that down here that title belongs to Vardin. He has his own plans, and from what I've gathered, they don't always agree with Teravin's plans."
"In other words," Deril said, "he probably wants us dead."
Marell nodded. "That's a safe assumption to make."
Chapter 32: Secrets from the Past
Faina sat in the wooden chair, unable to believe what she'd just heard. Alvin could not be Halarik. Halarik was a god, the most feared being in the world, the creator of Fireweavers. He couldn't be this unassuming young priest.
But then she thought about it a bit more. She recalled his powerful displays of Fireweaving. Kadin had also told her that the heat field around him had been brighter than any he'd ever seen.
"I always wondered what had happened to you," Teravin said.
"I've lived out the years under many disguises," Alvin said. Faina didn't care if he truly was Halarik. She would always think of him as Father Alvin.
"I always knew you were a threat to me," Teravin said. "But perhaps we can find a way to work together. We may find our goals are more aligned than we once thought."
"Forgive me if I don't trust you," Alvin said. "Your Church has spent its time persecuting people like me. Fireweavers. What is your defense for that?" Alvin sounded angrier than Faina had ever heard him, almost as if he were putting on an act.
Teravin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "Would it surprise you to hear that I am not in charge of the Church? I am nothing more than a puppet. A powerful puppet, but a puppet nevertheless. I can make some of my own decisions, but ultimately I must obey the will of another. I think you know of whom I speak."
"Vardin," Alvin said.
"Yes, he is the true power in the Church, which means you know why the Church persecutes Fireweavers."
"I know all too well," Alvin said. He kept looking at Teravin, avoiding Faina's gaze.
Faina squirmed in her chair, not sure what to think about any of this. She felt as if she shouldn't be part of this conversation, but no one had told her to leave the room, so she remained in the chair, trying to piece together the full picture the two men only hinted at.
She wanted to ask them to explain, but she didn't know if that was good idea.
Her curiosity won out. "What do you mean exactly?"
Alvin turned to her. She was surprised to see the same calm and patient expression he'd always worn. Perhaps he was the man she'd always thought.
"I'm sorry, Faina, but I have not been truthful with you at all in the time we've known each other. I've never guessed at all these things I've told you. I know most of these answers because I was there to witness history. But I feel you deserve the full explanation now."
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