by Susan Faw
“With luck, we will see each other once again.” Fabian raised his sticky bun in salute. The others mirrored his movement. “Let us toast to the end of Helga’s interference, once and for all.” His eyes swept the flickering faces. One by one they nodded and raised their buns in a sticky toast to success.
“I promise a dozen sticky buns a week for life to the one that brings me the rock Daimon’s head!”
Denzik chuckled. “A reward worthy of a king. I accept your challenge!”
“Hear! Hear!” they shouted, challenge accepted, their hearts lighter than they had been for a long time.
Trials lay ahead, but they went to their beds with the focus of a plan settled, with goals set. The path would not be easy. In truth, the real trials were about to begin. But they had hope, and hope could make all the difference between good and evil.
Epilogue
DEEP UNDER THE HIGHLAND SPINE lay Sheol Animus. Miles down in its dark depths, a second scrying pool ripped with images. This pool did not show current events however, like its cousin at the lip of Sheol Animus. This pool was located beyond the boundary of the living, bound to the souls of the dead, and as such reflected the future from the perspective of the dead. With the accuracy of a mirror, those who looked into the pool would see deaths to come, deaths in the future. Only those who were about to die could see their reflections.
Helga rarely used it for obvious reasons. Everyone around her was already dead, until now.
Four Charun dragged two unconscious men down to the poolside and dropped them on the slippery rocks at the edge of the steaming water then drifted back into the shadows at the edge of the circle of weak light. Curls of vapour drifted off the surface of the cloudy, sulphur-smelling water. The odour of rotting eggs dragged them back to consciousness, and they gagged, choking on the stomach-curdling smells.
Cayden rolled over and dragged his torn sleeve across his mouth and nose, attempting to block out the smell.
Mordecai did much the same thing, only he had no robe to use. He pressed his bare, bony arm to his nose, eyes watering.
Helga stood over them, disgust evident in every bend and curve of her face. “Look into the pool and tell me what you see.”
Cayden eyed the putrid pool, suspicious as to what it held.
“What is it you expect us to see?”
She shook her head, bemused. “Look into the pool,” she commanded again.
Cayden glanced at Mordecai, who was weak beyond belief. The years were catching up to the old wizard.
Cayden stood up and cautiously approached the pool and bent over the edge.
Grey clouds rolled across the scene. Rocks and landscape were obscured by what they took at first to be a huge storm. Lightning flashed and the ground shook, but the closer Cayden looked, he could see the rocks were actually men and beasts, dead for as far as the eye could see. The storm clouds roiled and flashed and suddenly he realized that he was flying toward tall plumes of smoke. Whole villages and towns were burning, along with their associated crops, and the fire was everywhere—every town, every village. He began to recognize the landscape the closer he flew to Cathair, until the great walls that had withstood every external siege ever thrown against it came into view. A glow, like an early sunrise, rose from behind the walls, and more smoke rose from the interior. He was swept along in the vision. As he came closer to the outer crenel wall, he was swept up to a tower he knew all too well. There, at the top of the tower, stood a figure. Tall and imposing with his back to him, he flung fire down on the outlying villagers and back into the castle keep, casting a ring of flame and death.
“No!” Cayden gasped as he swooped closer and closer. At the last minute, when it appeared he must collide with the figure, it twisted to face him. “Nooooo! By the will of the gods, no!” Cayden wrenched himself away from the pool and collapsed to the ground, weeping.
The man atop the tower wore his face.
“This has gone too far! All will perish!”
OTHER BOOKS IN THE SPIRIT SHIELD SAGA
SOUL SURVIVOR
SEER OF SOULS
SOUL SANCTUARY
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About the Author: Susan Faw
Professional by day, book nerd and fantasy champion by night, Susan is a masked crusader for the fantastical world. Championing mythical rights, she quells uprisings and battles infidels who would slay the lifeblood of her pen. It’s all in a night’s work, for this whirlwind writer. Welcome to the quest.
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