Peter stretched out his hand and felt for a ledge in the rock. It was small — no bigger than the width of his fist — but over the centuries the water had dripped off its edge and hollowed out a tiny space underneath. Peter reached into the puddle and felt for the cool metal under his fingertips. Grasping the talisman, he brought it up close to his face where he could study it.
The light was too dim to see the details, but Peter already knew it by heart. He turned it over and over in his hand. Since the day of the eruption, it had begun to glow with a strange blue light. You couldn’t see the glow unless it was utterly dark, but it was there. The talisman was in the shape of a hexagon with two long sides, and inside the outer piece was a star with six points. When the two shapes were brought together, snapped together like two pieces of a puzzle, they were supposed to summon the Lord of Hosts — at least according to the prophecy. Only it hadn’t worked.
Maybe there was more to the prophecy, Peter thought. Maybe there were magic words that ought to be spoken, or maybe one ought to turn around three times and spit before uniting the pieces. Or maybe, thought Peter, a little despairingly, the prophecy had been nothing but a fairy tale all along.
Peter tucked the talisman back into its hiding place and tried to go to sleep.
It was morning when he woke. The fire had died down to a mess of smoldering ashes, and someone — Gregory — was feeding it kindling and branches to bring it back to life. There was no shortage of wood on the island, Peter thought. At least that was something they could be thankful for.
He rubbed the morning from his eyes and swung his legs off the ledge and onto the rocky floor beneath. People lay sleeping on the ground, curled up under threadbare blankets and cloaks. Eighty-seven of them in all — men, women, and children who had survived the blast, found each other amidst the confusion, and made it to safety together. Eighty-seven. Plus three young strangers from another world.
Julia sat cross-legged in the far corner of the room, close to the entrance to the tunnel. Peter made his way over to her and plunked himself down beside her. She had her knees tucked under her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. She seemed very deep in thought.
“You on watch?” he asked.
Julia shook her head. “James is out front. He’s staying just inside the cave — close enough to sound the alarm if the Gul’nog come.” She shivered, and her big eyes looked up at her brother. “I don’t know what we’d do if they found us. There’s nowhere to run — nowhere to retreat.”
“I know,” Peter said. “I’ve never liked that this place has no back door. Maybe we can find one that does.”
“But where could we move, Peter? We’d have to scout out a new cave, and you remember how awful it was to move the children last time. Trying to keep them quiet.”
Peter nodded.
“We have to get them all back to Aedyn,” Julia said. “That’s what they need, not another smelly, old cave. Going home is what they expect. It’s what the Lord of Hosts brought us here to do, right?”
They’d had this conversation before — gone over the possibilities a hundred times. It all came down to boats. The eruption had destroyed all the Gul’nog ships, and if there was a way to build a seafaring vessel large enough to carry ninety people — under cover of darkness and without a Gul’nog noticing — without a lick of knowledge about shipbuilding or navigation between them, he didn’t know what it was.
There came the sounds of stirring behind them. The people were beginning to awaken, their bellies rumbling and their throats parched. They wouldn’t complain — except for the children — but Peter and Julia would see the disappointment in their eyes. Peter put his arm around his sister, and she laid her head on his shoulder. Not for the first time, he wished they had never been taken from London into this strange, new land.
They sat for a moment like that, and then they both lifted their heads at the sound of footsteps coming from the tunnel. Peter leapt to his feet, prepared for any sort of villain to appear. He wished he had Gregory’s knife, at least. They really ought to make more weapons.
It turned out to be only James. But his face had gone absolutely white.
“What is it?” Peter asked. “Did you see something?”
James simply stepped aside mutely, and it was then that Peter realized he was not alone.
Behind him, just coming out of the tunnel, was another man, tall and muscular, with waves of golden hair that fell around his shoulders.
Peter blinked at him. “Who are you?”
“I’ve come from the Lord of Hosts,” the stranger said. “I thought you were expecting me.”
CHAPTER
3
The stranger stood there for a long moment, a bemused smile playing across his face. “My name is Peras. You were waiting for help … yes?”
Peter clenched his fists, ready for anything. “Where did you come from?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “If you’ve really been sent by the Lord of Hosts—”
“Why did I take so long?” The stranger kept his eyes on Peter, ignoring the curious crowd that was gathering behind him. “Khemia isn’t an easy place to get to. I’ve been journeying to get here ever since you and your sister put the two parts of the talisman back together.”
He knew about the talisman. So it had worked after all. With relief flooding through him, Peter unclenched his hands and reached out to grasp Peras’s hand in his own. “Welcome! You are welcome to this place.” Peter turned to address the group.
But Peras held up his hands and spoke. “I bring you greetings from the Lord of Hosts,” he cried out in a strong voice — a voice that was too loud for the small cave. His words echoed off the close walls of the chamber and reverberated around the stone chamber. “I have come to set you free from the Shadow and to bring you back to the land you knew first — Aedyn.”
He continued to speak, but no one could hear his words so loud were the cheers. The people crowded around Peras, peppering him with questions and shaking his hand. If there had been room, they might’ve hoisted him to their shoulders and paraded him around the chamber — and Peter would’ve led them. He’d struck out as a Deliverer, so it was good to have one for himself.
“What’s this?”
A displeased voice cut through the hubbub. Peter looked up and saw Louisa just entering from a side chamber. Her eyes were afire with some emotion. He didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t look like joy. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was fear.
“Louisa!” He rushed over to her. “This is Peras. He’s a servant of the Lord of Hosts. He came when we activated the talisman. He’s come to take the people home!”
The crowd rejoiced again at his words. They might’ve gone on with their celebration had Louisa not thrown a damper on it again.
“So he just appears at our cave saying he’s from the Lord of Hosts, and you believe him?”
Peter felt the happiness draining out of him. “Well …”
“All of you,” Louisa said to the people of Aedyn. “How do you know you can trust this … person?”
“Louisa,” Peter said, turning away from the group, “please, you’re making a scene. How else could he have found us if he weren’t from the Lord of Hosts?”
“How could he find us?” she said very loudly. “Word has reached my ears that you and Gregory were discovered by the enemy only yesterday. Our retreat is no longer hidden, Peter. It wouldn’t be just the Lord of Hosts who could find us now.”
Peter looked at Louisa. He’d never known her to be like this. Petulant and awful before, but mainly kind and peaceful since coming here. What had gotten into her now? He looked at her drawn, white face. Her eyes narrowed even further as she looked at the newcomer in their cave. What if —
Peras held up his hands to silence the crowd that stood gathered around him. A hush fell over them, and a smile spread over his lips. “Dear girl, you have nothing to fear. I come from the throne of the Lord of Hosts in this, your hour of need.” He turned his b
enevolent gaze to the others. “As you know, the ships were destroyed. And the Gul’nog are never far. Indeed, they are close to discovering your hiding place once again, as you have said.” His eyes were on Louisa. “I have come to help you build new ships. I will take you back to Aedyn, where the Shadow will never find you again.”
Of course, Peter thought. New ships. At last, someone who could teach them how to build and sail.
“Why should we believe you?” Louisa asked, spoiling everything again. “We do not know you. Nor do we know that the Shadow has not spread over Aedyn as well. We can see it moving across the horizon. Who are you to say that Aedyn is any safer than this island — or this cave?”
“I am Peras,” the stranger all but shouted. “I speak with the authority of the Lord of Hosts. You will obey — excuse me. You will believe me because I am His servant.”
There was a long moment in which a silence pressed against the people. Peter wondered whether or not it would be wise to speak.
Louisa’s gaze never weakened. She turned that glare from Peras to Peter. “Mark my words, brother, Peras will betray us all.”
“Hush, Louisa!” Peter said. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He looked back at their savior, Peras, who finally took his eyes from Louisa.
“Come, Peter. Bring your bravest men. We must plan your escape.”
Peras chose ten of the men — Peter, Gregory, Orrin, and the rest of the midnight foragers. Together they went to the fire and talked long into the night.
Julia couldn’t sleep. She turned first one way, then the other, willing herself to fall quickly and dreamlessly to sleep. But the rock floor seemed harder than usual, her threadbare blanket couldn’t keep her warm, and the constant drip-drip-drip of the stalactites pounded in her head.
She thought longingly of her bed at home — thought of sinking deep into that pile of blankets and pillows. She grunted and rolled over on her side, trying to adjust to a new position. Some things, she decided, you just couldn’t appreciate until they were gone.
No one seemed to be sleeping much. Peras and his band of men — Peter among them — were huddled around the fire. The flames lent their faces an otherworldly glow and threw their shadows up against the walls of the cave. Their voices were hushed, punctuated with the occasional burst of harsh laughter. Julia did not like the sound of that laughter. Nor was she accustomed to being left out of things. Gaius hadn’t left her out.
Gaius. Julia made a sound that might have been a snort as she rolled over once again. Gaius had been the one to call them all to Aedyn in the first place. He had said they were the Deliverers and had shown them how to defeat the three dark lords who had held Aedyn captive in their mighty grip. And then, not long after the people had been freed, Gaius had called Peter, Julia, and now Louisa, through the portal and into the lives of the people of Aedyn once again. Only this time the task had not been so easy.
The people had been taken captive and brought to the island of Khemia by Captain Ceres and the Gul’nog. They’d been forced to dig at the base of a volcano, searching for something they’d never been told about. Their masters had been cruel, and the people had wilted under their whips.
Gaius had come to help only at the end, giving Julia a way to return home and retrieve the missing piece of the talisman. Sometimes she wondered if she’d seen him at all. He certainly hadn’t bothered to show his face since.
Gaius, where are you? Won’t you come now?
Julia tilted her head and saw that someone else was still awake. Louisa was back in the far corner of the cave, speaking softly and leaning over someone in the darkness. It must be Gregory, still in pain from his encounter with the Gul’nog.
Julia watched her stepsister for a moment. Louisa moved slowly and deliberately, placing her hand on the patient’s forehead for a moment, adjusting his bandages, bending to speak a soft word in his ear.
Perhaps Louisa felt Julia watching her, for she lifted her head and smiled in her direction. The smile was weak — almost piteous. It was so odd how she’d opposed Peras like that.
Julia rose to her feet, pulling what remained of the blanket tightly around her shoulders. She stepped over the slumbering bodies of the people of Aedyn and picked her way over to Louisa.
The patient was indeed Gregory. He was sleeping fitfully, drifting in and out of consciousness. He seemed to calm only at Louisa’s touch. But Louisa looked as if she could use a healer herself. Her face was drawn and pale, and the violet circles under her eyes testified that she had not slept in days. Still, there was an air of serenity about her that Julia couldn’t understand.
Here was Louisa, her horrid stepsister, who in the best of circumstances was one of the nastiest human beings Julia had ever had the pleasure to meet. But plunk her in a rotten dung hole of a place, and she was utterly transformed. She had become … well, it wasn’t for nothing that the people had begun to call her the Healer.
“I would have thought you’d be over by the fire,” Louisa said, raising her head as Julia approached. “Over with Peras and Peter and the others. Plotting our ‘rescue.’ “
“Peras didn’t pick me,” Julia said, trying — but not quite managing — to force out a hollow laugh. “I suppose I’m not the Chosen One anymore.”
Louisa’s expression didn’t change as she looked toward the fire and the men sitting around it. “No,” she said, a strange note in her voice. “Peras has chosen only the strongest for his little army.”
“But it’s not an army,” Julia said. “You don’t understand. He’s here to help us escape — not fight. He’s going to help us build boats and show us the way back to Aedyn.”
Louisa was curiously silent. Her lips pursed tightly together and she shook her head once. “Whether he uses our own men or … others … he’s definitely going to raise up an army.”
“Against the Gul’nog?”
“No, silly. Against me.”
CHAPTER
4
“Against you?” Julia finally said. “But … but you’re nobody. No offense. I mean, you’re not from here, and you weren’t called like we were. You only came here by accident in the first place, because you followed us to get us in trouble.”
Louisa smiled that pitying smile again and returned to her patient.
Julia sighed and left Louisa there, picking her way back through the slumbering bodies to her spot not far from the fire. The men were all still there, squatting close by the flames, but only Peras seemed to be talking now. Whispering, almost. Julia strained to hear but couldn’t catch more than the occasional word.
She was too exhausted to stay awake any longer. She’d have to ask Peter to explain it all in the morning. Her stomach grumbled, but Julia pressed the hunger from her mind, rolled over, and fell into a fitful sleep.
Peter watched Peras closely, all of his hopes hanging on every word Peras spoke. Finally — finally, here was the deliverance they’d all been praying for. And Peter, who had fancied himself the Chosen One, had never been so delighted to be relieved of responsibility.
“The Shadow has not spread far yet,” Peras said in those gentle, soothing tones. “Not as far as Aedyn’s borders. But we haven’t much time. Where the Shadow goes, so go the Gul’nog. It has already overtaken the islands of Melita and Tunbridge.”
“What will happen when it reaches Aedyn?” Peter asked. “Will you help us fight?”
“The Shadow will not spread so far,” Peras answered, waving his hand as if to wipe away the question.
“But if—”
“Trust me, Peter,” Peras said.
So Peter did.
“We’ll build rafts during the night and sleep during the day,” Peras said to the men. “We’ll need to gather materials outside the cave without being detected, but it seems you are already skilled at avoiding the Gul’nog.” He winked at Peter. “Once the rafts are ready,” Peras said, “you nine — and myself — will each captain one. I’ll lead you all back to Aedyn. I know the way.”
> Peter heaved a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for that talisman. It had brought Peras to them, and without Peras they would have been lost indeed. “I’ll lead the foraging raids,” Peter said. “If you’ll just tell me what to look for, we’ll find it — so long as it isn’t mushrooms.”
“No mushrooms,” Peras said with a smile. “I’ll handle the food. The Lord of Hosts provides for His children.”
No more mushrooms! Just wait until Julia hears this. Peter sat back with a grin. This Peras was turning out to be a fine fellow — a very fine fellow indeed.
“Sticks, sticks, sticks,” Peter said, looking around the forest floor. “Sticks and vines, sticks and vines.”
“That one’s not big enough,” Orrin said.
Peter turned it over in his hand, sizing it up with his not-yet-practiced eye, and threw it off into the brush.
“Shh!” Orrin hissed. “You never know where they’ll be.”
“Not here,” Peter said. “They’ve stopped patrolling this area. Haven’t seen a Gul’nog since Peras came.”
“You don’t know they’ve stopped. They could be planning anything. I just — I don’t think a little caution would be out of place.”
Peter nodded. He’d be quiet and keep Orrin happy, but he knew he was safe now. They were all safe. He felt it deep in his bones: the danger had passed now that Peras had come.
Peter stumbled over another stick and bent to pick it up. It was larger this time. Large enough to use, according to Orrin’s affirming nod. Peter added it to their pile — gently this time.
They had quite the pile built up. It was a better haul than last night’s. They were looking for sticks and logs to build the rafts, and vines to lash them together. The vines were harder to find — not many of them grew in this acrid climate — but they’d managed to gather enough tonight. Enough to please Peras.
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