He shot across space and time at a thousand miles an hour. The terrace came into view, then—
Snatch!
A pale hand dragged him into a caliginous void.
Swirling.
Diving.
Slavandria screeched his name, her voice gripped in tortured pain.
Crazy laughter echoed in the dark. A woman cackled.
Downward.
Spiraling.
Dizziness.
Stomach turning sick.
Oof!
Air pushed from his lungs as leaves, twigs, and moist earth plowed into him. Gasping, he rolled on his back and pounded his chest until he steadied his breathing.
He swallowed and forced himself to remain still. I’m alive. I’m breathing. I’m okay.
He lolled his head to one side and scanned the forest glade. Long, thin threads of silver light slithered along the ground toward him. Were the vines moving?
David swallowed, his eyes splayed wide open.
The strands slunk around him, pulling, tugging.
“No! Get off!” He smacked and kicked.
Through his legs and around his arms they wove, binding, constricting. His breath hitched as they lifted him from the ground and slammed him against a tree.
David struggled against his bonds, anger slowly taking over his panic. “What are you doing, Slavandria? This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, that depends on who’s watching.”
David jerked his head toward the male voice, his heart skipping all over the place. There was no doubt who it belonged to.
The shadow man from his dreams.
He was a slender man with golden skin, white hair, and piercing turquoise eyes that glistened far too bright for the darkness. He sat cross-legged on a tree stump, curtailing threads that dangled from the hem of his black cloak. Every finger possessed a silver ring. A round, black stone dangled from a leather cord around his neck. Behind him, a tall, willowy woman stood, dressed in a gown of spruce-green velvet. Long, shimmering, black hair tipped in white draped over her waxen shoulders to her waist, a look of satisfaction upon her face.
“My love, may I please have a few minutes alone with him?” she begged. “It would bring me great pleasure to torment him.”
The man chuckled. “It sounds devilishly tempting, Avida, but tonight this morsel belongs to me. Is that not right, Your Grace?”
David’s heart sank to his stomach as he followed the man’s gaze. Two trees to his right, Slavandria struggled against magical constraints.
“Release me, Seyekrad,” she said. “You gave me your word this would be a meeting of peace—a meeting to discuss the safety of the realm. Just what do you think you will gain by this outward display of malcontent?”
With a damnable chuckle, Seyekrad unfurled his long legs and eased from the elm perch. He passed by David before moving beside her. She cringed as his long fingers wove through her hair.
“Why, Slavandria,” he drawled, “I thought it would be rather evident. You had something I wanted.” His fingers brushed her bare shoulder. He stroked her cheek and leaned in, his lips close to her ear. “And now I have him.”
David closed his eyes, his heart thump, thump, thumping in his chest. This is a dream. Wake up. Wake up.
The man laughed loud and hearty. “Oh, no, dear boy. This is no dream.” He snapped his fingers. “Open your eyes and look at me!”
David’s lids sprang apart against his will, his gaze riveted to the sorcerer. He swallowed, his throat as dry as chalk. “Who are you? What do you want?”
Seyekrad approached, his contempt as cold as steel. A nauseating, sweet stench of black licorice clung to his every pore. He drew a fingernail across David’s cheek. “I am your nemesis, and I want your life.”
“Why?” David rasped. “What did I ever do to you?”
The man smiled. “It’s not what you’ve done, boy, but what you’re capable of doing. You see, you’re like an infinitesimal germ festering in my craw, and like a debilitating disease, you must be eliminated before you can do more harm.”
“That still doesn’t tell me who you are.” His throat hurt as if rubbed raw by sandpaper.
“He’s a coward, David,” Slavandria said. “A traitor. That’s what he is.”
Silver threads of fire flew from the man’s fingertips, engulfing Slavandria in flames. Her high-pitched scream rose above Avida’s cackling. It pierced the air, hanging like a single, endless, tortured note, ramming like a spike through David’s soul.
David yelled, his eyes blurred, burning. “Stop it! Leave her alone!” He fought and tugged against his bonds, but they constricted even more.
The flames evaporated. Slavandria hung her head and coughed.
Seyekrad turned to David; a wide, devilish grin stretched across his face. “My, my, you have more fire than I remember.” He leaned in, his medicinal breath billowing like a toxic cloud across David’s face. “You want to know who I am? Come on. I’m sure you can figure it out. Humor me. Take a guess.”
David focused on a path leading into the dark woods. “I don’t know. A sucky version of Zorro or Batman?” The words, Accelero Silentium echoed in his head.
Nothing.
Nothing except Seyekrad’s crazed laughter. “Oh, my. Did you think your juvenile attempts at whatever magic this hellcat gave you would work?”
David thought harder. Ibidem Evanescere.
Seyekrad’s hand clamped down on David’s throat, his spindly fingers curled around David’s neck. “Why, you’re just a mess of defiance, aren’t you?”
A gurgle ushered out of David’s mouth.
“Leave him alone,” Slavandria said.
“Keep quiet, witch!” Avida stormed across the clearing and slapped Slavandria across the face. “You will keep your mouth shut unless spoken to or I’ll kill you myself.”
“Go ahead, kill me,” Slavandria shouted. “I’m sure my father would love to hunt you down and take your wretched life.”
Seyekrad sneered. “Oh yes, good old daddy always to the rescue. Well, not this time, my dear, because for once, it’s not you I want. It’s this delectable morsel.”
“Why? He’s just a boy,” Slavandria said.
Seyekrad released his hold on David’s throat and laughed. “Do you take me for a fool?” He strolled toward her, his hands clasped together as if in prayer. “Did you believe that after all these years, Slavandria, after everything we’ve been through together, I wouldn’t figure it out?” He stroked his forefinger across her brow. “Ah, but you must have because you went to great lengths to hide him. But I found him despite your efforts to keep him secret. Do you want to know how?” A fearful look of curiosity flashed in her eyes. He tilted his head and leaned close to her ear. “I followed you.”
The sorceress’ skin paled, but she remained silent.
“Oh yes. I know all about Havendale, sweet love of mine. I know about the attempts to hide him from my eyes. Not only did I find him, but I have also been watching him for quite some time. In fact, we have spent quite a bit of time together, David and I.”
Avida cackled from behind a tree. “Yes, we have all become very good friends.”
Seyekrad twisted around. “Shut up, Avida, or I shall displace your tongue from your foul mouth!” She sulked into the dark misty shadows of the forest, hissing, and scowling.
“What does she mean, we’ve become good friends?” David asked, wrestling against his constraints. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!”
Seyekrad thrust out his right arm; his hand gnarled into a claw. The blue of his eyes faded and turned a fiery milky white.
A fistful of magic punched through to David’s brain. A string of images, memories, played in his head like a movie. Mr. Loudermilk’s history class. Chess games on the man’s front porch. Mowing Mrs. Fenton’s yard. Listening to her play the piano.
David squeezed his eyes shut, a desperate attempt to cast the vis
ions aside. “What are you doing?” he cried out. His brain hurt as if pressed in a vise. More movies skipped across his mind like a worn rock over a still lake. Realization began to set in.
No. No. It couldn’t be.
David writhed in torturous agony, his head on fire as the image of Seyekrad’s face merged with Mr. Loudermilk’s.
“No! Get out!” he screamed. Tears flooded down his cheeks. “How could you? You were my teacher, my friend! Why?”
“Because he shifted his allegiance, didn’t you?” Slavandria said. “You turned against the realm. How could you, Seyekrad? How could you betray me, my father, and your oath? What did the Dragon King promise you?”
Seyekrad’s lip turned up in a wolfish scowl. “You broke me, Slavandria. You ripped my heart out when you cast my love aside … for Mangus Grythorn! I begged. I groveled for a place at your side, and you denied me. Now I have a place at the Dragon King’s side, and I want you to suffer for what you did. I want your spirit to break. You will live long enough to see the light leave the eyes of this insolent pup, this human paladin. Then I will give you to the Dragon King to make of your soul what he wishes. You would make a beautiful shadowmorth.”
“Seyekrad, I beg you,” Slavandria said with a rattle in her voice. “You don’t have to do this. I don’t care what you do to me, but let him go.”
Seyekrad laughed and laughed. “You still take me for a fool, don’t you? Why would I do something so stupid? I know who he is. So does the Dragon King. Letting him go is not an option.” The sorcerer turned to David. “Say your farewell, pup. The end doesn’t hurt much.” He thrust out his arm. “Torncadum!”
A ball of black fire swirled in Seyekrad’s hand, then shot from his palm and hurled across the open space.
David closed his eyes. His breathing stopped. His fingers flinched, waiting for the impact. He thought of his last words to Lily, his first archery set. Charlotte at Halloween dressed up as a bookmark.
“Impellaferno!” Slavandria shouted.
David’s eyes flew open.
The spell knocked Seyekrad from his feet and cast him across the clearing; his face engulfed in fire.
“Aaaargggh!” he wailed, rolling on the ground. “My eyes!”
Avida jumped from the safety of the darkness, her body surrounded by pale, green light. She turned on Slavandria. “What did you do to him? Undo what you have done or I will kill you!”
“No,” Seyekrad said as he struggled to stand. “This loathsome creature is mine.”
He staggered toward Slavandria. Waxen layers of skin dangled in strips from the corners of his eyes. “So, this is how you wish to play, is it?” He flicked his fingers. Sizzling strings of magic slithered from his fingertips, writhing like tentacles. “Word of warning. Darkness always devours light.”
A blue streak of light shot forth from the depths of the forest. It hit the ground just shy of Seyekrad’s feet. A rock shattered. Seyekrad jerked around.
A tall, dark figure passed in the shadows.
Avida screeched, “Who’s there? Show yourself.”
Seyekrad turned in circles, his eyes searching.
A rustle of leaves drew his attention to the left.
David gasped as another blue streak arced from behind a giant elm and caught Seyekrad on the elbow. Another blue stream of electricity caught Avida in the chest. She collapsed, her body still.
The sorcerer spun around, his aim high and blind. Branches exploded and fell with a splintering crash to the forest floor. Bats high in the canopy of the trees took to flight; two hungry owls followed them.
Another icy blue streak erupted from the dark. Seyekrad spun around and deflected it back toward the source. A momentary cry of pain sounded from the forest depths. Had he hit David’s mystery savior? Seyekrad moved toward his assailant.
A shadow moved first to his left then back again to his right. Seyekrad froze in his steps. Sweat poured over the dangling flesh into his eyes. He staggered. “Come out and fight me!”
From the shadows, the figure emerged draped in a cape as black as the night. A single gloved finger pointed at Seyekrad. The shimmering spell hit the sorcerer in the chest before he could block it. He howled in pain and recoiled. Another blue arc hit him, followed by another, and another. Snap, Crackle. Pop. It was like Seyekrad was a fly in a bug zapper. His face turned white. Foam oozed from the corners of his mouth. A final arc and his knees collapsed. He keeled over, face first.
The cloaked figure hurried to Slavandria’s side. A little zap and the restraints fell away. Slavandria collapsed in the stranger’s arms. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “I didn’t think you would ever come.”
“Shh. Don’t speak. I’ll be right back.”
David’s heart thumped, thumped. The familiar voice, soft and feminine, washed over him like a smooth peppermint wave.
The stranger approached. With a quick flick of her finger, the magic ropes disappeared.
His arms ached, his legs trembled. The stranger enfolded him in her arms and eased him to the ground.
“There,” she soothed. “It’s all right now. You’re safe.”
His body quaked. Tears fell down his cheeks. He knew that voice as well as he knew his own.
“Lily?”
The hood of her cloak fell away revealing all too familiar turquoise eyes framed in a sea of auburn hair. A gentle smile lit her face. “Hey, you,” she whispered, brushing away his tears.
Relief flew out of him like an exorcised demon. He crumpled in her arms and sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Lily cradled him in her arms and kissed his forehead. “That makes two of us. What do you say we get out of here, huh?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Slavandria said, her shoulders drooping with exhaustion. She knelt beside David and combed her fingers through his hair. “It’s time to go back where we belong.”
Chapter 21
On the east side of the Domengart Mountains, the first light of day crested over the town of Hammershire. Eric sat with his father in the small hut’s kitchen, his mind torn in a million pieces.
“What is tearin’ at your brain, son?”
Eric ran his palms over his face then folded his arms on the table. “Father, I need to ask your advice.”
“I’m listenin’.” The old man scraped at the skin of a potato.
“Suppose you stumbled upon an item of great importance. Returning it to its rightful owner would be a sign of cooperation, of loyalty. You would be praised for doing the right thing, but other than that, your life goes on as normal. Within days, maybe even hours, you’re disregarded, forgotten for your deed.” Eric leaned over the table, resting on his elbows.
“But let’s say you don’t return it because you know someone else is seeking it, someone with the power to change the world. You know if you give the item to this person, you would gain notoriety, respect. Tales would be written of your bravery and courage. Which would you choose?”
“Well, I suppose that depends on the person with the item. Me, I don’t care nothin’ for the praise and glamor. The way I see it, the best deeds are done when nothin’ is expected in return. If ya need all the praise, then you ain’t doin’ the deed for the right reason.”
“But what if you’re tired of being passed over, of being ignored and accepted as a fool?”
“Better a fool with integrity, than a braggart with a title.”
Eric’s father stood and shooed a chicken from the home. “Ya goin’ ta help me milk the goats?”
Eric followed his father to the pen outside and grabbed a pail. Deep down, he knew his father was right. Getting honor by giving it directly to the paladin was a selfish reason not to return the necklace to Slavandria, but what of his promise to Sestian? What of his promise to himself? If he didn’t seek the paladin, Trog would always treat him like a child. Trog would never entrust him with a chore more dangerous than brushing his teeth in a rainstorm. No. He had to d
o this. He had to find the paladin. He had to be the one to give him the Eye of Kedge.
The goat bleated and kicked. The pail with its contents smacked against the fence railing.
“Dragon’s breath!” Eric ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Father.”
The man squeezed Eric’s shoulder as he passed behind him. “Don’t ya worry about it, son. It’s just a little spilt milk. It’s not like ya killed the goat.” He picked up the pail and walked across the yard. “Do what ya need to do, son. Just make sure you don’t lose respect for yourself in the process, ’cause in the end, it’s you that’s goin’ to have to live with your choices. No one else. Make sure when you lay your head on your pillow every night, you know you’ve done nothin’ to compromise your principles. Ain’t nothin’ worth that.”
Eric spent the remainder of the day with his father. By the time he tucked into bed, his body ached but his soul had never felt more content. He would find a way to leave Gyllen in the morning.
He would find the paladin, and gain the respect he deserved.
Chapter 22
David’s legs felt heavy, like tree roots planted on the wrong side of a one-way nightmare. Lily and Slavandria slipped away, swallowed by a vat of inky nothingness.
No! Lily, wait! Come back! Don’t leave me here!
Her voice mingled with the wind as it played with the leaves, whispering as twigs, tap, tap, tapped on his shoulder.
It’s time to go.
Your time is nigh.
Be brave.
Wake up.
Wake up.
“David, wake up.”
A sharp intake of air and his eyes pinged open. Walls, not trees, surrounded him. Charlotte, not Lily, hovered over him. He pushed her away and scrambled upright, his brain twisted in his skull. His gaze darted from the bed to Charlotte, to Trog. “How? What?” He gasped for air, the breaths painfully short.
Trog grasped David’s shoulders and pressed him against the wall. “Look at me. Breathe!”
David shook his head and sucked in deep, harsh, gasping breaths. “This is — all wrong!” He swallowed hard. “I’m not supposed—Slavandria. Lily.” The room spun around him. His whole body shook. “How? I was there. Now—now I’m here.”
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