Author: M.H. Johnson
Date: 2018-03-16 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: Eager to live life on her own terms, Jess has made a name for herself Highrock Academy, where the most dedicated students are forged into elite warriors for the battles to come. Jess embraces her new life with fierce joy, valued for her skills alone. Until she makes a fateful choice that costs her everything, all prestige and honor stripped away, mocked and shamed by the entire school. It is only then that her enemies strike, determined to see her fall. But her fall alone is not enough. A vicious trap is sprung, endangering Highrock and everyone within. Jessica's bitter exile then becomes a de

Squire of War

The Risen Queen - Book 1

M H Johnson

Copyright © 2018 by M H Johnson

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Thank You

1

Face it, Calenbry wench. You’ll never make it as a knight!”

The memory of Mord’s mocking laughter sickened Jess even now, three years after a far more innocent version of herself had first attended this college of war. She still remembered accepting the young man’s challenge, despite dark whispers of what a savage he could be when he fought to win. How utterly confident she had been in her own skills, more than willing to compete with the unofficial favorite for the approval of Lord Hyve, one of King Richard’s knight commanders. Renowned throughout Erovering, Lord Hyve was a celebrated warrior who was rumored never to have never lost a jousting match while in his prime. Jess and Mord had both coveted the prize of victory, which was nothing less than a chance to squire under Lord Hyve himself, one's path to knighthood all but assured.

It had been hot as a cook's griddle that day, with the crowd of noble onlookers cheering on their favorites. The training grounds had baked to a near rock hard surface, most of the grass long since trampled under the armored feet of endless scores of college students over the years.

Electing not to stay and witness the bouts lest he distract her, Jess's father bade her a gentle farewell the very morning of that first-year student competition, reminding her she needed to pace herself and not overly risk her person in any one competition on a mad gamble for victory.

“Many of the lads also vying for Lord Hyve's favor come from Houses houses with reputations for ruthlessness," her father cautioned with the stern blue-eyed gaze of a onetime general, Jess stiffening to attention as crisply as any soldier.

He relaxed his gaze then, giving a fond shake of his head. “You are as fine warrior as any commander could hope to have under his wing, my daughter. It would ill suit us both for you to allow yourself to be used and cast off cheaply. Preserve your well-being above all else, these first, most perilous days, my Jess.”

Jess nodded in complete agreement, earning a faint smile from the man whose regard meant so very much to her. “Very good, my Jess. And fear not, Highrock is home to the finest generals in Erovering now that we live in a time of peace, however tenuous a state of affairs that it may be. Lord Hyve is not the only commander of note at this institution, for all that so many lads have their eyes on the prize of serving under him.”

Her father adjusted his stirrups then, observing the care of her own mount with an approving nod, the pair of them having ridden out together early that morning to view the training grounds, the future field of battle, much as any good tactician would. “I have no doubt that you will make nothing less than an excellent impression upon your future martial instructors, whoever they may be. I only ask that you be prudent in choosing your battles and allow conflicts to resolve themselves, when opportunity permits.”

Jess smiled in turn at her father, gently stroking her own destrier's mane. “You mean let the most brutal applicants batter themselves silly in the early bouts before accepting challenges to place myself, do you not, Father?”

Her father's bright blue eyes twinkled then, his oft times grim features softening, blond locks rustling rustled in the wind. He looked for a moment the mirror image of her brother Geoffrey, a recent graduate himself of Highrock, now content to learn the intricacies of Court by his father's side. "I know I trained you well, Jessica. Just remember that no matter how convoluted your mother and sister like to make these things, politics and intrigue are but battlefields of a different sort." He chuckled wryly at that. "And for all that I have little more patience for innuendo and backbiting than you do, my daughter, the wise commander learns to recognize and counter his opponents, no matter the field of battle."

Jess smiled. “And the wisest commander of all leads his enemies to the terrain of his choosing. And if my opponents would rather fight amongst themselves than come for me, whether it be upon the training grounds or the field of battle, so much the better. And I know my strengths, Father. A sly wit and a cutting tongue will never be my weapons of choice. For anyone who slanders me with insults, sophistry, or nasty innuendo, it's a slap to the face and a challenge for the dueling grounds. I shall let my blade prove the worth of my character, and dare anyone to disparage me upon that most sacred of arenas, where steel takes precedence over a sly tongue.”

“Fortunate for your peers that all such contests are only to be conducted with wooden swords and wasters exclusively.” Her father chuckled, before piercing Jess with a stare that brooked no argument, one that demanded instant deference. It was a look Jess knew all too well. “A true leader, however, does not make enemies unnecessarily, my daughter. Your blade is a tool. Not a crutch. Far wiser to take the time to learn the motivations and needs of the people before you, to forge alliances and accords and assure yourself fast friends to fight by your side when needed, than to allow arrogance or aloofness to turn every man's hand against you.”

Jess bowed her head with her father's gentle reprimand. “You are right, of course, Father. I will try to be worthy of your words.”

The baron's gaze turned momentarily wistful even as he ruffled his mount's mane. “I am fortunate to have your mother by my side, Jess. You, I'm afraid, are going to have to figure out the intricacies of school life on your own. Just remember that you are a warrior first and foremost. So long as you take the measure of any possible opposition, weigh carefully the honor of potential allies, and proceed cautiously into any new situation you find yourself in, I have no doubt that you shall prosper, even thrive, here at Highrock.”

Her father had hugged her farewell then, gently reminding her to write often, as her mother would worry.

Even as her heart ached to see her father's retreating form, she gazed back at the grim stone edifice that was Highrock College, feeling as if the future was comprised of limitless possibility, as if she had the entire world in the palm of her hand. She donned her carefully packed and maintained gear the moment she had returned to her private quarters, her body well used to the weight and feel of padded gambeson, mail hauberk, and a custom suit of brigandine armor, constructed of small plates of steel riveted to specially treated leather jacket and leggings, personally fitted to her frame by the master armorer who had constructed it.

Steel helm and sturdy reinforced gauntlets were donned last of all before she headed out to the training yard, feeling great pride in wearing armaments her father had gifted her with solemn ceremony, several months before. Jess had trained in them with a dedication that gave even her brother pause, till they were as comfortable upon her frame as a second skin. Armaments that would be the envy of many a knight, she knew, able to serve her well in any field of battle, so long as not upon open terrain in the height of summer.

Of course, being a bit too excited to memorize the route the first time, she earned more than one bemused glance by veteran students as she politely asked for the way to the training grounds from her quarters. it was only the terrain outside the school that she and her father had gone over til she knew it all like the back of her hand.

Her first glimpse of the training grounds as she exited the stone keep had set her heart to racing. A sea of people roared and cheered. Scores of students all sparring together, warming up before the formal matches were to begin. Jess calmly stretched even as she shivered with excitement, wondering in that innocent moment what it would be like if that sea of students and onlookers were all cheering for her.

It was then that the announcements washed over them all, carried by a powerful baritone voice, resonating across the field by dint of a mage no doubt well versed in battlefield magic. There was to be a change in the program. No longer would individual challenges be offered and accepted. Rather, all students would be paired off in two rows, given wooden placards, and randomly assigned to fight the nearest aspirant of the opposing row who had a matching placard. A student could, of course, decline the bout, but it would constitute a loss and count against that aspirant's point total for the day.

Jess gave a grudging nod even as she heard the moans of numerous others. Though she didn't like the changes, she certainly understood the logic behind them, as it minimized the risks of preplanned fights being deliberately thrown for discrete gifts. It also prevented the strongest of contestants from racking up points by continuously challenging the perceived weakest. Of course, it also prevented Jess from choosing which opponents she'd most like to test her mettle against, or make use of any long-term strategies, as she had no idea who she would be facing. She could make no study of an opponent's strengths or weaknesses until the moment she crossed blades with them in earnest, making the contest far truer to actual warfare than the game it had been before.

And before she knew it, the students had all been paired up, formal challenges offered and accepted. For Jess, the first and only match of the day was about to begin.

Pale of complexion, her opponent possessed saturnine features and cold dark eyes that peered at the world around him with barely concealed contempt. Jess disliked him on sight. The condescending sneer he had favored her with made it clear that the disregard was mutual.

“These are the challenges, girl. I do not know what vapors have infected your poor little brain, but if you don’t get out of that sad excuse for a suit of armor and put on a proper dress, you are likely to get seriously hurt.”

Armored in a full suit of plate and mail that spoke of his family’s wealth and connections as much as anything else, his cold smile made it quite clear what he thought about the idea of hurting her, and it left Jess feeling slightly sickened.

Jess all but snarled in response. “I’ve trained with steel since I was twelve. I have as much right to be here as you!”

He barked a derisive chuckle. "Very well, wench. But don't say I didn't warn you." He then turned to the cool-eyed overseer of their bout who had shown absolutely no reaction to their discourse, instead looking over their training blades with a careful eye and testing point and edge with forefinger before handing the blunted weapons back to the pair. "I am ready, overseer," the arrogant young man declared.

Jess had nodded in turn.

“Very well then,” the overseer said, coming over to both of them, inspecting their armor, assuring no straps would come loose in the heat of the bout. “You both know the rules: You shall treat the first match as if you were unarmored, second as armored. You fight in full earnest, with blade and grappling as you choose. All blows are allowed save thunderstrikes to the head, all grappling maneuvers are allowed save neck and finger manipulations. Should one of you be responsible for the death or permanent maiming of the other, your family will owe a blood price, and you shall be summarily expelled. Are we clear?”

Both nodded solemnly, readying their blades.

“Then announce yourselves, and begin.”

The young man’s lip curled into a sneer before he slammed shut his visor. “My name is Mord de Plaga, wench. And before this day is over, you will know your place.”

Jess felt her heart race with furious contempt even as she closed her own visor, doing her best to reign in her temper. “Jessica de Calenbry,” she said coolly as she faced the man she already despised in Ochs guard, point towards her opponent’s face, mirroring his own stance as they circled one another. With a final clap from the overseer, the bout began in earnest.

The first thing Jess noted was that Mord was fast. Near as fast as she herself was. Their first cautious exchange of blows made that clear, he easily countering her quick darting slash, immediately off-setting her blade while slamming forward with a vicious thrust. She managed to counter it, barely, chilled by the savage strength propelling the blow. Raw power did not necessarily equate skill, Jess knew, but it was a decided advantage.

They both leaped back then, he with an eerie little chuckle that grated on Jess's nerves even as they continued to circle one another. Mord quickly took the initiative, seizing the Vor. Blade raised in high guard, he charged into her, striving to knock her off balance even as he lashed into her with a series of vicious overhand strikes, powerful diagonal blows at all angles that could easily cleave through an unarmored warrior who did not counter the blows quickly enough. When perfectly placed, those strikes could crack the bones of even an armored man, crippling them, and an excellent tactic to use against any foe whose shoulders were not exceedingly well armored and padded. And despite the overseer's cautionary warning, it was increasingly clear that her shoulder blades were his target, hammering down with his blade as hard and fast as he could.

He wasn't just seeking to gain points upon her. He was out to maim her. That much had become chillingly clear.

Heart pounding, Jess frantically parried, knowing her foe’s considerable strength was getting the best of her, and she needed to retake the initiative if she was to have any hope of besting him.

It was her father’s cardinal rule. She must always seek to seize the Vor. She must always strive to make her opponent dance to her tune, force him to work to counter her maneuvers. For if she failed to do so, then the tune of her opponent's blows hammering her flesh would be the last notes she ever heard.

Thinking fast, Jess immediately strove to bind his blade with her own. She sensed more than saw his smile, having gained a glimmer of his true strength, and when he used his might to force her blade she immediately gave way, throwing him the slightest bit off balance, countering strong with weak as her father would say. And in that split second of grace she had, she snapped her blade about in a high tight arc even as she stepped back and pivoted, feeling a sudden surge of exultation when her blade slammed hard against Mord's helm. A killing blow, had he been unarmored.

It was a feeling of triumph that was short-lived.

Mord, roaring in fury, slammed into her before the overseer could call the fight. Suddenly they were in close grappling range where swords were near useless, the force of his hate knocking her off balance every bit as much as the force of his slam, Jess stumbling back even as he viciously tore back her unsecured visor with one steel-gauntleted hand, smashing her naked face as hard as he could with the other.

It was only then that the overseer’s whistle cut through the din sharp and loud, even as Jess fell on her rump, dazed and humiliated, her face a hot throbbing mask of agony.

Had her spirit been any less, she would have surrendered right then; dizzy, nauseous, sobbing from the awful pain. As it was, she did her best to grit her thankfully unshattered unbroken teeth and bear it, feeling the hot tang of blood pour into her mouth, realizing that her nose had been badly broken.

“Mord de Plaga! The bout is over! To your corner this instant!” shouted the overseer. Mord, however, had already quite calmly turned around and walked to his side of the training ring.

The man then turned a concerned eye toward Jessica, helping her to her feet. “My Lady Calenbry, are you fit to continue?” he quietly asked.

Feeling a bit shaky, Jess collected herself, spat out a gob of blood and nodded, this time locking her visor once she slammed it shut once more.

The overseer gazed coldly at Jess’s opponent. “Why did you not cease immediately, as per rules, once your opponent scored the point?”

Mord had already raised his own visor, his honey-laden voice designed to soothe, even as Jess could feel the cold hatred of his eyes burning into her own. “Forgive me, overseer, but in actuality the match is not over until the whistle is blown, and of course it is for us to act with all vigor while in the midst of the contest. Now, as the whistle had not been blown, I had assumed it was your intent we continue, as we all know such weak cuts delivered at a poor angle to the temple are rarely fatal.” Mord flashed a condescending smile. “Surely, good overseer, that is time enough for a man whose life was in peril to seize the Vor and charge into his opponent, snatching life and victory from the jaws of defeat. Would you not agree?”

Jess fumed inside, despite her dizziness and creeping nausea. Her snapping strike had been neither weak nor off angle. Had her blade been sharp and he not wearing a finely forged helm, it would have cleaved deep into his skull, killing him instantly. She wondered if the judge understood this, or if it even mattered, really, at that point.

The overseer paused, considering. “Even were that the case, young Mord de Plaga, it does not justify why you went out of your way to raise your opponent’s visor whilst pummeling her. You could have simply grappled.”

Young Mord actually had the gall to fake thoughtful surprise. "A good point regarding the grapple, overseer. But as you know, we who train for war are taught to act with ruthless efficiency, to seize any opening. I suppose in the heat of the moment I did what I had been trained to do. Yank up the visor before striking in close quarters, a viable tactic whilst battling the common masses. But surely any knight worth her salt would have a helm that precludes such a maneuver, or at least have the common sense to lock her visor before the battle?"

Jess fumed as the young lord smirked, somehow implying it was her fault for not having locked her visor, never mind the fact that they were mimicking an unarmored bout for this first contest. His actions had been clearly designed to hurt and demoralize her far more than they were to win the match.

He hated her for scoring a point against him and had wanted to make her suffer for it, and that was all there was to it.

Bitterly, Jess swore to herself she'd never go into a challenge or even a training bout without locking her visor shut in the future, and could well imagine her father's rueful smile. "The lessons of war are often hard ones, my Jess. Best you learn them well, and count yourself lucky to be able to do so, no matter how humiliating the lesson or bitter the defeat." Those words echoed through her as a memory came unbidden, her father sighing, gazing off into the hearth fire one night, haunted by visions only he could see. "All too often, a poorly taught student's only chance at redemption is in the next life. As long as you live to see another day, my Jess, you should always count yourself lucky."

Jess realized then that she had never before had to worry about securing visors or expecting dirty blows from corners unseen. Safe in the warm bosom of her family, secure in their love, Jess had never before faced a formal bout with opponents who wished to do her actual harm. She would never take an opponent’s sense of honor for granted again, she promised herself.

The overseer gazed coldly at the young man for a few moments more before speaking. “Point and match go to Jessica de Calenbry. Your helm rang with the blow, sir. Unarmored contest decided in Jessica de Calenbry’s favor. Next match is armored.”

The judge’s sympathetic gaze was one Jess found oddly touching for all that it shamed her. Jess wondered if he’d take such pity, were she other than a girl. “Are you fit to continue, Lady Calenbry?” he asked quietly.

She gave a slow nod, not trusting herself to speak. She carefully breathed out of her mouth as the blood dripped down her throat, knowing she would rather die than cry yield to the hateful man before her, shattered nose or no.

“Very well then. Ready yourselves… Begin!" And with a sharp clap, Jess faced her nemesis once more, even as Mord favored her with a mocking wink before slamming shut his visor and making a deliberate show of locking it, approaching her in half-sword grip much as she held her blade; one hand on the hilt and one on the blade itself. Armored gauntlets protected their palms even as they prepared to use their blades as half spears of sorts. The grip allowed for extra precision and power when attempting to ram the point into chinks in their enemy's armor, or crack bones and bruise vulnerable flesh under mail, even if the links themselves proved difficult to rupture. Of course, the training blades they had selected their weapons from were all blunt with deliberately rounded tips, but the overseer would score points judging on how effective their maneuvers appeared.

Jess grimaced, knowing in her gut that Mord wouldn’t settle for half-swording. There were other ways to use their blades and bodies to deadly effect even against armored foes, and she had no doubt that Mord was just as well versed as she was in the implementation of those techniques.

Jess gripped her blade cautiously, waiting for him to commit before she tried to seize control of their contest. Sure enough, the moment he met her half-sword to half-sword and felt her tense against him, he adroitly stepped back, expertly flipping his sword as he spun around with the hilt of his blade now raised high over his head. Mord gave a terrific roar as he swung his weapon thunderstrike style, the blade itself gripped near the point, allowing for devastating blows against even a well-armored opponent, as the center of balance was but inches from the crossguard.

Jess felt a fierce moment's exhilaration as she crashed into him, having sensed his feint, instinctively propelling herself forward to close the gap before his weapon could complete its deadly arc, fluidly darting under his overreaching blade even as her own half-sword slammed with considerable force into the lightly mailed gap in his armpit. For all that thunderstrikes could be devastatingly powerful, they were also slow. Having sensed what Mord had intended, she had countered perfectly, or so she had thought for that single triumphant moment.

“Half point to Jessica de Calenbry,” the overseer dutifully called even as Mord bellowed, dropping his torso, and ramming into Jess’s gut with such terrible, unexpected ferocity that she was left breathless, her blade utterly unable to counter the force of his body crashing into hers.

Jess found herself slammed to the ground in a dazed heap, chilled by Mord's unnatural strength even as he raised his blade high. A blade she had thought wrenched out of his grip, yet somehow, he had hung onto it. And with a hideous laugh that clawed at her brain, Mord began pummeling her supine body with a berserker's fury.

Over and over again he slammed the crossguard of his sword thunderstrike style into her torso and legs with mad, frenzied abandon, yet still possessing the cold discipline to avoid her off-limits helm.

Terror instantly replaced disorientation, and Jess’s desperately raised sword, even gripped in two hands as it was, was barely sufficient to ward off the worst of his furious onslaught, knocked flat as she had been by the force of his slam, the occasional blow that got through a fierce bolt of pain hammering into her, even well armored as she was.

For all that she knew she should roll over and stumble to her feet, she was both stunned and overwhelmed. Worse, she was coldly certain that blood price be damned, if she dared lurch to her feet he would slam the crossguard of his blade into the back of her neck and skull with every ounce of his awful strength, happy to kill her even if he was expelled.

In those nightmarish moments Jess kept her blade gripped like a quarterstaff in a desperate bid to ward off the madman’s blows. She realized that she was no longer fighting to win, she was fighting for her very survival. And Mord with his terrible strength was happily savaging away at whatever parts of her body she could not protect with her sword, her back flat upon the ground.

She screamed as she heard something crack, even as the overseer’s fierce whistle shrieked loud and shrill.

“Mord de Plaga! Withdraw!” And as abruptly as if someone had pulled the strings of a marionette, the berserking lord did just that, halting his terrible thunderstrike in mid-swing, spinning about and walking back with a chilling precision. Jess was coldly certain Mord would have deliberately slammed his crossguard into whatever bone he had managed to break with furious savagery as many times as he could have gotten away with, had the overseer not blown his whistle at that very instant.

The overseer’s rough, concerned features soon filled her visor. “Lady Calenbry, are you all right? Let me get that for you.” Carefully the man unlocked her visor. His fingers, bare of armor, were far more agile at the maneuver than a knight’s gauntlets would have been. Jess felt her gut plummet to see his suddenly grim expression. He gazed at her carefully. “My lady, can you carry on?”

She nodded and grimaced before carefully righting herself, then screamed, falling into an agonized ball, her ankle sending out a shrieking blast of pain.

“Well, my lady? Can you carry on?” Mord’s taunting voice mocked her from the other end of the training circle. Jess spat an angry gob of blood at him and he laughed, cold eyes mocking her.

“That is enough, Lord Plaga!” the overseer’s voice cracked, the young lord seeing fit only to give the barest nod of his head, mocking smile still firmly in place.

“I believe, good overseer, that if this lady here is unable to continue the match, victory is mine.”

The judge’s eyes turned flat. “Such blatantly savage attacks are reserved for enemies of Erovering, young lord. I have never before seen even students, let alone knights, thunderstrike the extremities of fallen foes just to cripple them.”

Mord’s eyes flashed. “The rules were clear. No thunderstrikes upon the helm. No neck or finger manipulations. I followed those rules to the letter. It is not for you to judge the virtue of a lord’s tactics, sirrah, merely to score the match!”

Jess could sense Mord suppressing a snarl, looking for all the world like a rabid beast at that moment, and Jess dizzily wondered if he would dare strike the very overseer of the bout. With what looked to be a fierce act of self-control, his fists visibly shaking, Mord put on his fake smile once more. “Besides, good overseer, if there was any problem, why did you not blow your whistle beforehand?”

And Jess simmered, understanding exactly what had stilled the man’s hand. She had no doubt that Mord would probably have been able to wrest victory from her if he had hooked away her blade or crashed on top of her, placing the leather wrapped batons they both had secured at belt to mimic a thrust under chin or at eye slit. Of course, she might have surprised him, might have flipped over him or somehow turned the tide. By not landing a decisive blow, by not closing, by carefully following the letter of the instructions, Mord was neither breaking the rules nor finishing the fight, so the match could not be called. And by deliberately breaking a bone, he could both cripple her and guarantee his victory. Not just for the bout, but for the match entire and any possible rematches they might both have found themselves in later that morning, this having been but the first contest of the day.

Mord’s cruel eyes locked with her own. She simmered at his condescending smile. “I believe, overseer, that all else aside, if the Calenbry woman cannot fight, she automatically forfeits the match.”

The overseer of their contest looked less than pleased even as he nodded. “If the lady is permanently maimed there will be a blood debt to pay, Lord Plaga,” he coldly reminded Mord.

The arrogant young lord laughed such concerns away. "Come now, sir. All know Highrock possesses the best-trained healers to be found anywhere outside the capital. I have no doubt the young lady will be right as rain, and back in a dress where she belongs, before the week is out."

The judge spared Jess a single glance, filled with such pity that her heart lurched. She seethed with humiliation at having been so bested by Mord's ruthless savagery, denied any chance to prove her worth that day, having lost her very first contest, unable to fight again until she healed. Their bout had garnered an increasing number of onlookers. She wondered if she would ever live this match down.

“Match ends! Jessica de Calenbry can no longer continue. Mord de Plaga wins the contest by default.”

Mord taunted Jess with his laughter, even as he gazed down at her with a look of smug satisfaction at having so soundly bested her. “You have no place in this arena, nor this school! Face it, Calenbry wench. You’ll never make it as a knight!”

The last thing she recalled clearly about that day, even as gentle hands helped her to remove her armor, Jess screaming at least once in the process, was Mord’s vindictive grin. She could tell he savored her maiming, and she loathed the man with a fierce purity that transcended mere hate.

Yet her father had spoken nothing less than the truth. Highrock was home to more than one famed general of the Velheim Wars, one in particular so reviled for his savagery upon the battlefield that he was wanted for war crimes in nations that actually recognized such accords. Yet his brilliant ruthlessness had been the key to Erovering's victory, and the king himself had nothing but praise for the general who knew that the ability to instill terror in one's foes was but one more weapon in a tactician's arsenal. One that could spell the difference between victory and defeat. And for three long years since the day he had first discovered the eccentric girl skipping classes to take on all challengers with her practice blade, Jess had trained in the arts of war under General Eloquin with fiercest dedication, determined to make her mentor proud.

It was only now that Jess realized, after reading aloud the unexpected letter from her mother, that her place in the world she had fought so hard to make for herself could be turned on its head in an instant. That her sense of independence and empowerment was no more than an illusion. A transient thing based on nothing more than her own desperate hopes and dreams.

Fiercely earned, effortlessly taken away.

The Plaga Clan sought an alliance with the Calenbrys, one sealed in marriage vows.

Her family had not turned them down.

2

General Eloquin's voice rang through the clearing. “Squires, enemy pike stand ready to meet your charge, archers have outflanked and ambushed you. Death is but a spear shaft away. If you are to live, you must plunge through your enemy's forces under arrow fire. More than that, I expect each of you to deliver killing blows! Neal, prepare your men.”

"Jess, are you ready?" Asked the acting captain of their band.

Jess could see her reflection upon Neal's polished breastplate, bright blue eyes filled with worry, a strand of golden hair slipped free from helm nibbled by nervous lips. She shook her brooding thoughts away. Her friends were counting on her, and she would not let them down.

Jess took a deep breath, focusing only upon the forest of long spears before her, feeling a fierce shiver of anticipation run straight through her and into Mercy, her piebald mare. Left hand holding reins and the light wooden shield that was her only divergence from the suits of steel, mail, and hardened rawhide worn by each of her fellow Squires of War, her right hand held her lance ready for the charge.

Focused at last upon what mattered, she turned and caught Neal's gaze, giving a crisp nod.

“Vanguard is yours, Jess. When the whistle blows, charge and ward. As always.” He grinned.

Jess dipped her head. “Yes, Captain.”

Heart racing, she gazed at the scores of mock pikemen before them, dozens of posts mounted with swine carcasses wearing a mix of mail hauberks, rawhide boiled in water and glue, and gambesons of tough, quilted linen. All in all, their mock opponents represented the types of armor most likely to be seen upon the battlefield, though few save knights would have access to shirts of mail or breastplates of steel.

“Jess.” But one word, all she needed to hear. Jess turned and gave her closest friend in all the world a grateful smile. Malek winked, and Jess pushed all random thoughts aside, focusing only on the task at hand.

Her heart jolted as Eloquin blew sharply on his whistle. A click of her heels and Mercy was racing for the cluster of training dummies ahead, even as Jess caught sight of the two score spears mounted to coiled springs to best represent an infantryman's posture. They could be knocked aside by a shield in the hands of someone well-trained in the maneuver, though they would spring back for the next student, and even with their blunted tips they could crack the bones of men or mounts and send Squires toppling to the ground, risking serious injury.

Even as she took in the threat rapidly approaching, she heard the whistling twang of two score arrows raining down upon her and her fellow Squires.

“Jess!”

The slightest tinge of concern, but Neal need not worry, for the arrows fell short of the band of charging Squires, as if shot off course by the gentlest of winds.

It was then that Jess spotted none other than Knight Commander Hyve, leader of the Knight Aspirants and General Eloquin's counterpart, gazing down at their training session. Though used to training free of spectators, Jess accepted this particular witness, knowing all too well what Hyve's presence meant. But what made her almost lose focus as she charged the deadly forest of spears before her was Hyve's favored protege, and Jess could swear his gaze was fixated upon her, even now.

Mord.

His arrogant gaze peering so intently at their tactics, the absolute last person Jess wanted to see.

“Jess!” Malek's voice. The first twinges of panic.

Jess hissed, cursing herself for a fool, allowing herself to be so distracted. Her panicked surge was far stronger than the subtle gesture she had intended, the exact opposite of what she wanted.

“Jess!” But Neal's call was unnecessary.

With a crack, the fifteen foot long spear shafts were abruptly yanked back, many of them flying completely free of their springs or shattering, even as Jess tilted forward, her lance couched and ready, feet firmly planted in her stirrups, braced for impact.

Time seemed to slow in that curious way it sometimes did for her. After an endless moment, Jess felt her lance plunge into the armored meat carcass before her, bursting links of mail front and back with only a staggered moment of resistance, as armor that almost never broke in hand to hand melee gave way before the terrible fury of her charge.

And still Jess did not let go until she felt the shock of her weapon plunging into the second rank of mock pikemen, but a split second before her lance plunged right up to the guard. Two men down with one lance, and no strain to her wrist.

Even as she allowed herself a single burst of elation, she was instantly swept back into the moment with the din and crash of her friends slamming into their own targets, Jess reflexively raising her shield as if to parry any potential assailant even as her right hand snatched mace free of saddle hook to pound down upon the helmets of pitted iron and cracked steel fastened to the carcasses they faced with controlled fury, as if she fought in deadly earnest.

After a final resounding crack of mace to helm, Jess pivoted back around, giving a sharp whistle to Neal while racing back to their starting position, taking deep breaths of air alive with the scents of pine and wildflowers as well as cured pork and iron. All in all, it was a beautiful day.

She forced hands trembling ever so slightly with the frenzy of that last pass to carefully re-hook her mace even as she withdrew her estoc. A long tapered sword intended solely for thrusting, its triangular cross-section prevented effective cuts, but allowed it to be used much like a secondary lance after the first shattered in the initial charge.

Angled death, Jess thought, even as she pivoted Mercy around, the continuous rain of arrows still falling short of their band, Jess keeping an eye on the few stragglers, grimacing as the archers thought to target the Squires furthest from the main body, and for all that most of the arrows missed, one did not.

Jess couldn't help but glance Eloquin's way, and his icy blue eyes were cold.

Jess winced and shook away the lecture she knew was in store for her. For everyone knew their band had to be tight at all times. To straggle was to die, for reasons they all understood.

“On my mark, charge!” Jess cried out the moment everyone was back in formation, Neal nodding his accord, the entire band of Squires drawing free their estocs as they prepared to rush the mock pikemen once more. A full third of the spears had sprung back into place, those that had not been ripped free of their metal braces in the first pass.

“Blue Pincer!” Jess cried, once more losing herself and reveling in the moment. All of them stood high in their stirrups now, their bodies arched forward, arms bent slightly, a far different style of giving point than with lance. For even as the lance could be used but once, the estoc could be used to spear her enemy over and over.

There. But a second from her frantic charge was the dummy she chose, her estoc lining up at a slight angle from her body, and she braced for impact even as she felt the spring-loaded spears twist away from their band once more, Jess relaxing her arm the instant she felt the estoc bite into and punch through the mail shirt atop the swine carcass, expertly pivoting so that her wrist and shoulder suffered no strain as her arm was pulled back, the power of her mount spinning the carcass on its post around, her sword effortlessly extracting as Mercy raced past.

Her band of Squires had struck the left flank of pikemen even as Neal's half struck the right flank, all of them flowing around the cluster of stationary carcasses like a stream flowing around a rock in its center, maintaining the speed and maneuverability they needed to race away for another charge.

"Reform!" she shouted, Neal blowing a refrain of the command, and this time Jess hung back just a bit, making sure she was at the center of her band at all times. No lead-tipped arrows hit any of her fellows then.

Neal looked to her as they formed up once more. “How are you?”

Jess smiled into his hazel eyes. “Never better, Captain.”

He nodded once. "Excellent. Full on charge, now. We go from estoc to melee."

Jess nodded once even as she pivoted Mercy around, now leading the vanguard with a wild ululating yell, her fellow Squires to each side of her in a classic wedge.

And this time, as her sword plunged almost effortlessly into the torso of a pig carcass draped in boiled rawhide, Jess released the estoc's hilt and unsheathed her saber in one practiced motion, lashing out with fierce, practiced strokes designed not simply to hit with force, but to cut through the rawhide armaments before her with vicious slicing blows.

Perhaps the most common armor on the battlefield, only those who trained diligently in slicing through the hardened rawhide plates with specialized blades would draw blood. Training Jess had received in spades, fiercely devoted to mastering the techniques as she was all elements of swordplay. Her saber lashed out, scoring precise, killing cuts to the necks of her carcasses, Jess carefully aiming for those spots the rough armor did not protect, cleaving straight through cured flesh and bone, helmeted animal heads tumbling to the ground.

But knowing her mentor as she did, Jess made a point of whipping her blade through straps and plates of rawhide as well as at the armorless gaps, pulling the blade back toward her even as it cleaved through the armor, the blade biting all the deeper with the sawing nature of the slash as Jess drew it through her foe, even as muttered curses let her know that not all her friends had been as successful.

Several of her fellows forewent fancy saberwork in favor of flanged maces or war hammers that could whip down upon even armored skulls to stunning effect, no matter the other armaments worn. Which was fine, Jess thought. In the heat of battle, all that really mattered was what worked, survival and victory forgiving any number of sins of technique.

Their mentor blew his whistle, and at once Jess and her fellows wheeled away from their mock foes with final parting slashes and whipping strikes as would have been the case in actual melee, all racing in unison back to where Lords Eloquin and Hyve awaited.

And there Mord was, staring at her even now. The jubilation Jess always experienced after a good training round instantly dissipated as she caught sight of arrogant features some girls were stupid enough to call handsome, with a too knowing smile Jess knew was meant just for her.

3

General Eloquin gazed at them through icy blue eyes that spoke of northern ancestry, contrasting with the light bronze complexion of southern tribes. Their armsmaster appeared grim and ageless as always, an ancient god of battle and wisdom who Jess silently worshiped, finding no greater satisfaction than to be the recipient of praise from those lips.

His hawklike stare settled upon Jess.

He did not look pleased.

“Calenbry. You were distracted. It matters not if Knight Commander Hyve or one of his students has joined us. Your mind must be ever focused on the task at hand. Unless you sense an enemy at our doorstep, you focus should be upon the threat before you. Protect the men counting on you.”

Jess felt herself flush even as Mord smirked. “Yes, Commander.”

A curt nod. “What was the second mistake you made today? One that almost cost you a fellow Squire's life?”

Jess cringed. “Erica. She was too far away for me to protect.”

Eloquin nodded, before turning to gaze at a shamefaced Erica. "You are a Squire because you are a brilliant tactician, Erica. But you took too long to disengage from the pikemen. In a real battle that could have spelled your death, unseen arrows or no."

Erica, normally of such sprightly temperament with the most beautiful green eyes, now looked on the verge of tears. She was remarkably strong for her size, yet was the smallest student to join their ranks. Though a more than competent swordsman, as a Squire she just barely made the cut. “Yes, Commander.”

Eloquin turned to Jess once more. “She was under your care, Calenbry. As are all the Squires, when you take the vanguard. And what is the one precept you are to always follow?”

“To lead the charge, and stay at the heart of any rally or withdraw.”

Eloquin nodded. “Your skills allow you to excel where no one else would. But upon the rally, if the troops under your care are split up? I don't think I have to tell you the folly this invites.”

“No, sir,” Jess softly said.

Eloquin spent a timeless moment gazing at all of them before giving what appeared to be a nod of quiet satisfaction. “Some of you fools still need to master the techniques of slicing through linen and leather, but you're a damned sight better at it than you were when first you answered my call.” Some quiet chuckles at this, for what he spoke of so casually was a skill few outside blademasters and Squires tended to acquire. Even an expert duelist, well versed in the arts of parry, cut, and thrust, rarely thought to train or had access to masters who taught the tricks of getting past armor. “Fortunately, you all know how to hold a lance and estoc, and the proper ways of fighting with mace and shield, on foot or horse.”

A long moment of weighty silence.

“It will do. For it is once again time for you to prove yourselves, Squires. King and Crown once more need your blackened daggers.”

Murmurs and whispers picked up through the small elite crowd of students. Jess felt her stomach twist in knots equal parts excitement and dread.

“Hear that, shieldsister? It's that time again.”

Jess turned and smiled back at her brother-in-arms. Sleek, graceful, and deceptively powerful, only a fool would take his martial skills lightly. Gentle brown eyes gazed at her from a face she had long ago fallen in love with, now relegated to the closest of friends.

“It is indeed, Malek. Do you feel ready?”

A glib reply seemed on the tip of his tongue. Instead he gazed thoughtfully at her a moment before giving a slow nod. “If slavers have once more been found slithering upon our lands, then they must be stomped out. No matter if the king refuses even to acknowledge that slavery exists, no matter that our hands and souls will be stained with the blood of those we kill. It is a price I'm more than willing to pay, to spare some child the nightmare of being stolen away to a life of misery and horror.”

Jess nodded, feeling much the same. It made sense, after all. They had done their best to come to terms with it during the year just past, a year both bitter and sweet that had seemed to stretch without end, much like the very first night Jess had been forced to endure a dying man's screams.

Lord Hyve coolly looked them over, mustaches carefully oiled, with a tad bit more paunch than would be ideal in a perfect fighting specimen, but so was the case with most lords who took up the blade with a bountiful table to break their fast when the training was done for the day. Still, where Jess had once felt a deep admiration for one of Erovering's premier knights, it had waned as she had gotten to know the man behind the reputation, just as her fierce love for her general had only grown.

Lord Hyve cleared his throat before addressing them all with a powerful baritone voice, excellent for carrying over the battlefield. “I know well your reputation, the dark tools you are all being forged into, don't think I don't. Still, you serve king and Crown well enough, which is all a man can ask for in the end. If one is not equipped to ride to the heights of glory as a Knight of the Crown, upholding the honor and dignity of chivalry, then it is a more than worthy pursuit to master all the aspects of war below the knightly calling, to soften our foes and pave the way so that we may charge forth in triumph, our foes vanquished by the might of our lances and the allies who smoothed the path to our victory.”

The knight commander dipped his head, his version of paying them a compliment, and all the Squires bowed in unison, as if they had been esteemed beyond all measure. Just as Eloquin had instructed them to do, both as a test of their discipline and the guile they might one day need. All elements of an army had their purpose, after all, and diplomacy was but one more tool of battle.

The fact that Lord Hyve smiled as if pleased by their deference was reward all on its own, Jess and her peers having managed yet again to hide from the man how utterly offensive his comments truly were. Either that or he knew all too well, and was playing them as they tried to play him. If nothing else, it was an entertaining practice and allowed the man's words to wash over them like the silly drivel they were.

Lord Hyve's gaze then turned grave, even as Mord smirked by his side, his mocking smile making it clear that he, at least, was quite aware and pleased to hear Squires relegated to the role of garrote men whose sole purpose was to do the dirty work while the hands and reputations of Knight Aspirants remained spotless.

“As you all know, at the end of the day our purpose is equal in serving our nation humbly and faithfully. And there are certain crimes that are so heinous, such black stains they are upon Erovering's glory, that it would be blasphemous even to sully our beloved king's ears with the news. And that, my young Squires of War, is where you come in.”

Jess blinked, gazing at General Eloquin, noting the hard line of his jaw even as he said nothing. Rare was it for Hyve to be the one to direct their assignment. “Yet it is important, I think, for Knight Aspirants to learn the hard lessons that maintaining peace in our kingdom actually entail. Further, many of my students, bright and skilled youths that they are, have never before seen battle, and I fear the tragedy of first blood: The din and cry of their initial engagement being of such intensity that they stand there thunderstruck, prey to any foul miscreant, when all they need are some moments and a gentle guide to ease them through that first terrible, glorious battle, so they may forever after perform their roles in exemplary fashion, as the peerless knights all my charges are destined to be.”

Hyve gazed solemnly at them all for some moments. “That is why I am entrusting you Squires, favored proteges of my worthy associate Lord Eloquin, with the task of keeping watch over my Aspirants, making sure they survive the challenge to come unmarked, unscathed, and able to perform the duties that will be expected of them in future engagements.”

General Eloquin gave a cool nod as Lord Hyve stepped back. “You are all to protect your brethren and each other in the campaign to come. Hyve's Aspirants will serve as the main thrust of any direct assault, and I expect you all to provide appropriate auxiliary wing support. But above all, I expect you to protect yourselves and your fellow Squires at all times. Only by protecting yourselves can we deign to protect our fellow Aspirants.”

Hyve gave the slightest frown then shook it away, before nodding to the Squires he had addressed. Jess and her fellows Squires bowed in turn, leaning their hips back in a practiced maneuver that prevented the weight of their armor from setting them off balance, paying Lord Hyve the respect Eloquin expected of them.

As Lord Hyve and a still smirking Mord made their way back to the school proper, Jess and her compatriots waited for Eloquin to relax his stance before daring to murmur what was on their minds. Jess smiled, feeling the sudden weight of a creature of shadow and darkest night leaping to her shoulder.

“My, yet another secret little mission for king and Crown. Not only do we get to cleanup some noble's carelessness, we also get to babysit Mord and his ilk. What fun.”

Jess couldn't help grinning as the purring feline making himself comfortable upon his favorite perch, much like a falcon would. Jess gazed into sapphire orbs that glittered like dying stars impossibly far away, even as she stroked glossy fur of midnight hue that shimmered even on a cloudless night.

“Jess?” A single word, tightly said.

Jess blushed. Her commander shouldn't have had to say anything at all.

Twilight solemnly shook his head. “Hyve, and our always lovely Mord are long gone, my mistress, as are the archers. I sense no spy left behind, nor does any mage scry upon us.” He sighed then. “Not that they have in ages, but I know how you hope.”

Jess gazed up at Lord Eloquin, giving a solemn shake of her head. “They are gone, sir. No one gazes our way.”

Several of her peers gave her curious looks, a few shaking their heads.

“How does she know that?” asked the newest member of their elite band.

“Her arcane feline senses these things, supposedly,” explained a fellow Squire.

“Why don't I see her in any of the Wizards Wing courses?”

“She can't cast a single spell. You must have heard how spectacularly she failed at that.”

“But she has a talking cat?”

“It's a delusion.”

“Delusion or no, we just saw scores of pike and a storm of arrows warp away from us.”

Lucas, one of the more powerfully built Squires, frowned at Jess before turning back to the newest member of their band. "Our master just accepted you into our ranks, Liam, so you wouldn't know. Jess is one of those warped mages with but a single odd talent, and her knack is wood. That's why Eloquin puts up with her eccentricities and lets her lead the vanguard. But there are no such things as talking cats."

Liam flashed Jess an approving grin. “A gift so strong we can charge into a forest of pike unscathed? That's a damned useful knack, I'd say.”

Jess exchanged glances with her supposed delusion who winked back at her. “Shall we tell all of our friends about the naughty little affairs Lucas has been having with not one, but two of the chambermaids, all the while playing one against the other? I'm sure any number of our friends would find that bit of gossip from your favorite delusion quite delicious, don't you think so, my mistress?”

Jess grinned at that. “Behave,” she murmured before turning to gaze back at Lucas, who for some reason paled and looked away. Jess frowned. Lucas was a prickly sort and was happy to disparage anyone when his dander was up, yet normally they got on quite well. She would hate for that to change now.

“The hell with all that, are we really to be babysitters for those damned arrogant Aspirants?” Yet another of their number voiced the frustration they all felt. Immediately the Squires' murmurs took on a brooding tone, her fellows less than pleased with Lord Hyve's offhanded attempts to commandeer their role and function, as if they were little more house servitors, and he their master. Nothing further was said about talking cats, the rest of them having known Jess for years.

“Silence.” At Eloquin's command, all the muttering stopped. “It matters not the style of presentation. All that matters is that there is a blight upon our nation, a smear upon the king's honor, and it is for us to burn out every last trace of the vermin that dare to think they can make our nation their cesspool!” His gaze turned fierce, his students paling before him.

He took a measured breath. “Diplomacy is but one of the skills you must master. For future tacticians, you are fools to allow a rough tongue to deny you the opportunity of doubling the units at your disposal, potentially tripling your effectiveness, if you deploy your men appropriately.”

Eloquin's icy blue eyes hardened. “You know this. All of you do. If you didn't, I would have dismissed you long ago.”

More than one student swallowed, gazing at their armored feet.

"Now, let us look to the heart of what has been said. Lord Hyve is extending his men to us, as he has more than once before, though always informally. This time he wishes his own men to retain command, and our own to provide auxiliary support. In turn, he is committing the entirety of his force to this endeavor, unorthodox as it is, at a time when absolute stealth, discretion, and the grimmest of intentions are needed. Now can anyone tell me why this would be?"

All the Squires spent some moments gazing at one another.

“Bloody hells, Jess, what game is Hyve playing at, do you think?”

Jess gazed at Malek, a cold chill coming over her. She could only think of one possibility.

Malek frowned. “Jess?”

Jess blanched and looked away. For some reason, she didn't want to say a thing.

“Jess?”

The hushed murmurs silenced once more, and Jess felt her eyes pulled by Eloquin's gaze. Somehow, he knew that she knew.

“Speak.”

“It's just a guess, sir.”

His cold gaze speared her. Jess blushed.

“I think, sir, I think that there is only one explanation. The slaver camp. It somehow puts Hyve or someone he is close to in jeopardy. Guilt by proxy, if not actual involvement. If I had to guess, I would have to say that the camp was sighted on his grounds.” Jess swallowed, her peers deathly silent.

“Well, go on.”

Jess shrugged. “If we had received word by regular channels, it would have looked bad for him. Why did he allow it to happen? Slothfulness? Involvement? This way, he himself seems proactive. He sets the tone of being willing to clean up his own mess. Nay, more so, a wronged man who will do all he can to smash the vile affront to his dignity with all haste and fury. And, of course, he wants the honor of leading his men to justice and glory, expunging this vile threat upon his land, we but auxiliaries to his little campaign. But valued auxiliaries, I suppose. He did go to the trouble of addressing us, seeking rapport and striving to motivate and commend us... in his own way.”

Jess ignored the few quiet snickers this comment inspired.

“Frankly, if he could get away with just using his Knight Aspirants, I think he would. So that it almost seems to be his own force that he would be using to clean house. But for all that he is a bit arrogant, if you will forgive my tactical observation, he is no fool. Why wouldn't he make use of the resources at his disposal? For when it comes to taking out a fortified encampment, why not make use of the students who have been training for such since their first days at this school?”

Eloquin gave a cool nod. “Well done, Calenbry. Well done.”

Malek nodded. “It only makes sense. Save for flowery words that mean nothing, he has never bothered taking a personal interest in our missions before. Not like this. So really, what else could it be, save trouble close to home?”

The most reviled and hated general on the continent flashed his Squires a bleak smile. “You all know how this works. First preparations shall be made, and you all will do and say absolutely nothing to anyone about what is to come. Those of you truly ready to embrace what it means to be a Squire of War and serve your country, I will see back here two nights from now, at sunset. In the meantime, you will ignore all other courses, seeking only to master Veltsor's treatise on how best to take out a heavily fortified encampment. You will train vigorously, but not arduously. If any of you have any sores or injuries, you will see the healers at once, without delay. They will treat you without a single question asked. You will imbibe no mead or wine, and get all the sleep you can stand.”

“As for those of you who will not blacken your daggers for me?” Cold eyes gazed intently at a number of pale-faced youths, none of whom could meet their beloved commander's stare. Youths who Jess loved dearly as fellow students, who would graduate from Highrock with honors one day, and perhaps lead troops with distinction when war was eventually declared. They would benefit immensely from their training under the deadliest tactician to lead Erovering's forces in decades. But they would not lead as Squires of War. Jess sensed this already.

"The rest of you will train beside your brothers-in-arms, as always. Lock stares with them as you test their mettle, and they test yours. See the fire that burns within them. Then look into your own mirror and ask yourself if you truly have what it takes to be a Squire of War." His voice turned cold as a winter gale. "Those who have hesitated up to now, if you wish to redeem yourselves in my eyes, this will be your last chance."

Eloquin then flashed the bleakest of smiles. “Upon your oath, upon your life, you keep the faith. Should anyone, even your lover, seek to entice a confession as to what you are preparing for, particularly the name of your target... you know exactly what you must do.”

All of them paled and swallowed at that. Visors raised, their expressions were a mixture of fear, exhilaration, and grim resolve. Jess felt a moment's fierce exultation. Cheers and boasting once the deed was done was one thing, but no Squire would reveal specific names or places, no matter how they otherwise flaunted their kills. Jess knew Lord Hyve's plight would be one rumor never to circulate through Highrock. Not from their mouths, at least.

Though not all of her fellows had the heart or temperament to accept the Crown's ugliest missions, Jess knew that none of them would betray their cause.

4

So what do you think, Jess?” Malek queried, ruffling her hair as they finished caring for their mounts, Jess giving her piebald warhorse a double handful of oats and a friendly pat farewell, Mercy nickering contentedly as Jess left the stables.

Jess stretched and smiled, taking a deep breath of the fragrant spring air, loving the sight of the massive fortress carved into the mountainside. Highrock, most esteemed war academy in all of Erovering, and her home from the moment she had first glimpsed its vast granite walls glowing faintly in the afternoon sunlight, air gently perfumed by the lush green fields full of wildflowers leading up to it, exactly as it was at this moment, what seemed a lifetime ago.

She turned and peered into the warm brown eyes of the youth beside her, kissing him softly on the cheek before he could blink or protest. Jess laughed as he blushed, then sighed. “I think, beloved brother-in-arms, that the trill of birdsong will soon be replaced by the clash of steel and the screams of men fighting for their lives, just as surely as this beautiful afternoon will be replaced with darkest night.”

Malek's gentle smile turned bleak. "You cut to the heart of it, as always, shieldsister. Hyve's demesne is conveniently close to Highrock, only a day's journey away. We will travel at night, set camp in deepwood at first light, scout it at dusk, then strike at deepest night." Malek frowned. "Strange to think about it, but no matter how far away the bandit sightings are reported, it never seems to take us that long to get there."

Jess nodded as they made their way to the keep proper. "I know what you mean. Sometimes, riding by Eloquin's side, our brothers behind us as we race through the night, it feels almost as if we are flying through a dream." She grinned. "As if those bizarre rumors that swirl about us actually had a grain of truth."

Malek smirked. "The High Hunt indeed. As if Eloquin were a living god of battle, and we his mad merry men. And we will do nothing to dispel those rumors, wild as they are. For the more our enemies fear us, the greater will be their hesitation, allowing us to seize the Vor and crush them utterly."

Jess nodded at the mention of one of Eloquin's first lessons. To master your enemies' minds was to win the battle before blood had even been spilled.

She loved Highrock with all her heart, yet for all that she had devoted herself to study of the battlefield, she had never been the most scholarly of students, and so was quite happy for the excuse to cut all her classes for the next couple of days. Not that she saw classrooms as more than a convenient place to catch naps in between sparring sessions, but at least this way her professors were less likely to yell at her.

Jess shuddered for a moment, abruptly forced out of her happy reverie, most definitely not thinking about the shrieks made by men impaled upon charging lance or spear, the coppery stench of blood searing her nostrils, desperate eyes locking upon her own as ragged men sobbed and spasmed their last against her blade.

No. Those awful memories she had long since quenched in the glorious feasts and revels discretely permitted as if they truly were knights on crusade, all matter of savory treats and vices prepared for them in secret luxurious chambers tucked away in the heart of the school. Revels and decadent feasts normally only seen in titillating tales read by noblewomen in their parlors, for Jess and her fellow Squires, they were as real as blood and steel. Rewards for all of Highrock's heroes, returning from dark, savage little missions that would never see the light of day.

And she certainly was not trembling with thoughts of fresh battles to come.

She did her best to ignore her friend's sudden concern, the way his arm wrapped around her so protectively.

Malek didn't understand. She was smiling. Delighting in yet another excuse to smirk at her scowling professors as she and every other Squire cut classes and took their ease. Now that was a thought well worth savoring, and she couldn't wait to meditate within the rooftop garden, her little sanctuary away from the too knowing gazes of more than a few students staring just a bit too long at them even now, before flashing apologetic, frightened smiles and darting quickly away.

Jess frowned, feeling the strange tension present even after they had bathed and changed into their Highrock uniforms alongside their fellow Squires, all of them trickling into the main dining hall and heading to their regular tables, just a few too many furtive glances sent their way.

“Jess, look out!”

But Jess was already moving, weaving back as a shock of red hair and freckles, well-padded and wearing the most sheepish of grins just narrowly missed colliding into her, his soup-laden tray sent flying, the floor a sudden mess of broth, meat, and bread rolls.

“Oh, hi, Jess! I, um, sorry about that. Oh bother, Professor Rens won't be at all happy, I'd best get him another tray right away...”

Jess smiled. “It's quite all right, Abe. Accidents happen, and I see one of the servitors hurrying forward even now.”

Abe swallowed, poleaxed, soft green eyes locking onto her own. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

Jess winced.

Abe's face, if possible, turned an even brighter shade of red. “I'm sorry, I mean... um... yeah, you don't need a dress like the other girls, you look just fine in your Highrock uniform, anyone who says otherwise is a jackanapes! And um... please stay safe when you... you know...” Saying not another word, Abe adroitly turned on his heel and darted back the way he had come, more than one snicker sent after him as he performed what was, for Abe, a remarkable feat of dexterity and speed.

Jess turned to her friend. “Don't say a word.”

Malek grinned. “He's not always this clumsy in the classes we share, I promise you. More like a lost puppy than a student, but he can cast a few cantrips, if you give him plenty of time.”

Jess shook her head. “I've never seen him other than when he's a hairsbreadth away from disaster.”

Her friend chuckled. “That's because he's madly in love with you.”

“Gods, Malek, did you have to say it?”

Her shieldbrother's teasing smile only widened. “You know it's true. He has been since the day you saved him from the most fearsome of opponents, exquisitely sharpened blade but inches from cleaving through his skull.”

“It was his own sword! It had slipped out of his hand and was windmilling back down towards his own head. And how he had managed to get a hold of live steel...”

Malek only chuckled. “Your noble feat is no less noteworthy for all of that. Is it not true, after all, that we are our own worst foes?”

Jess smirked. “You can be your own worst foe. I am getting something to eat.”

At which point Jess slid into her accustomed seat at the finest table in the heart of the dining hall, perhaps the grandest of all of them with exquisitely crafted and polished chairs of oak as opposed to benches or stools, informally known as the lords table by those who sat there, and by those who looked on. Jess had simply fancied the table, making a beeline for it her first day at school, and no one had ever contested her seat. Of course, the fact that she was herself of noble blood, as were the students smiling back at her even now, was pure coincidence as far as she was concerned.

“Jess, good to have you with us! How are you and Malek? Your training went well, I take it?”

Jess smiled back at her friend, admiring his soft honey brown locks, gentle gaze, and graceful poise. Elegantly attired in doublet and tights of deepest burgundy contrasted by a brilliant white cotton shirt, he cut an athletic figure, no matter that he fenced only for sport, focused as he was upon mastering the nuances of diplomacy and trade.

The scion of perhaps the wealthiest duke in the kingdom, Raphael diOnni was an excellent ally to have in weathering life's choppy seas. Most importantly, he believed in her, always with an encouraging word when she needed it. To her, that was as precious as gold.

Jess nodded. “Yes, Raph. I froze for a moment, but I did my best to watch my brothers' backs, and I got through the morning with but a single scolding.”

Malek smirked. “Though without her, we'd no doubt have scores more bruises, and I can promise you that Eloquin would be shouting at us no end.”

Raphael nodded at that even as the beautiful girl beside him, gentle eyes rich pools of brown, golden blond hair near the same shade as Jess's own, gazed at Jess with keenest sympathy. Josie de Lakare, who Jess privately thought as talented a healer as any in the college, solemnly filled fresh cups with watered wine before passing it to them, wearing her simple sky blue dress with more elegance and poise than most noble ladies could dream of, no matter how many years of finishing school they had taken.

“So it will soon be time, then.”

Jess said nothing, instead nodding her thanks for the wine before focusing intently upon her soup.

She did so love chicken soup; filling, hearty, and great for soothing the tingle of anxiety she felt coursing through her even now, an anxious dread that would no doubt flare to fierce exhilaration once she embraced sparring that afternoon, as she pounded her fears away to rueful chuckles, scoring points against her friends, just as it had every time before.

“Yes, Josie, it will soon be time,” Malek quietly affirmed.

The young healer nodded, her eyes never leaving Jess's own. “I always worry about you two. Promise me you'll be careful, all right, Jess?”

Jess took a deep breath, forcing a smile. “I will do my best, Josie, as always.”

Malek grinned. “Fear not, sweet Josie. I shall take care of my shieldsister, just as you take care of the handsome noble always by your side.”

Josie blushed at that, but her smile was one of adoration as Raphael held her close, kissing her golden curls.

“Fear not on our account, worthy Malek. My precious rose will nurture my heart, just as I will nurture hers, both of us stronger for the other's company.” Raphael winked. “The most profitable alliances, bargaining in the most precious of all commodities.”

“Magic?” Quipped the slender youth seated beside them, his sea blue doublet spotless, for all that his light brown hair was a tousled mess, gazing fondly at his friends.

Raphael's rich laughter washed over them. “No, my dear Alex, love alone is the commodity I trade with my precious Josie, who has already made me the richest of men, for she has turned my heart to gold.” He dipped his head, smiling back at Alex. “we shall leave feats of high magery to you and your own beau, our lovely Jera, though I do not envy you the stare she is favoring us both with.”

Alex's gaze widened, quickly turning to meet the gaze of the petite green-eyed beauty sitting by his side, favoring dark green dresses that set off her eyes even as Alex tended to don whatever was on hand. Both of them equally slender, both of them equally dedicated to the mage's art, and, just by the exasperated gaze Jera favored him with, his sheepish smile in turn, Jess did not doubt for a second that they were both very much in love.

Besides, there was no way he was responsible for his presently unrumpled and rather attractive appearance. No doubt she had dressed him upon their waking.

“Raphael gets it,” Jera teased. “And if you spent just a bit less time lost in your books, and a bit more time exercising with me in the evening, you might just find that you enjoy swordplay and company both. Then you could wear a gentleman's blade just as elegantly as Raphael does.”

Alex smirked. “Swords are not my forte. I'm almost as clumsy with them as poor Abe. You, on the other hand, come from a family of warriors, for all that neither of us have a warrior's build, so the side-sword comes naturally to you. Besides, it helps you focus your lightning, much like so many wizards use wands to channel their spells.”

Jera grinned. “With a simple wooden hilt and a wooden buckler, a perfectly straight blade does make an excellent wand for channeling lightning. I admit it. But I can still use it to cut and thrust if I find myself in the thick of it.” She flushed and turned away when she caught Malek's bemused gaze.

“Not that I'm any real warrior, not like you two,” she said in a far softer voice, “but I enjoy sparring, and I like to think I'm at least a cut above your typical helpless noblewoman; that I could at least fend off a cutpurse or two.”

Jess flashed her friend a reassuring grin. “No worries, Jera. For a novice, your technique is excellent, and sword and buckler is a style that's been around for more centuries than I can count. It is absolutely perfect for self-defense, and for self-protection in a bad part of town? I think you're more than a match for any rogue or cutpurse, so long as you remember that in a real fight for your life, there are no rules. The moment ne'er-do-wells approach, you don't try to reason with them. You unsheathe your sword before they can close, and strike without hesitation. You attack with fierce earnestness, you let no one flank you, and the moment your closest foe is down and you have distance from his friends, you run for safety and light, yelling your pretty little head off, just as fast as you damn well can.”

Jess blinked, ducking her head from her friends' solemn stares, realizing her voice had gone from playful banter to the hard tone of a commander. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so serious.”

Josie shook her head, golden locks all but shimmering in the light pouring in from the grand stained-glass windows set into the far wall. “No, Jess. There is no reason to apologize. How can you help but take seriously anything to do with the killing arts? Even as we embrace life's sweet possibilities, enjoying an eternal summer of learning and growth, you and Malek stand ever ready to defend us, to defend those in need against the worst depredations of those who delight in cruelty, slavery, everything the gods are against.”

Jera frowned at those words, but did not scold Josie for speaking in her place.

Alex turning to gaze at Josie, giving her a slow nod of respect. “So you understand, then. Few do, even within the mages circle.”

Jess lowered her spoon. “Alex? What are you going on about?”

Malek smirked. “Gods know there are far too many slavers in Erovering, a lesson I only appreciated since we began doing, well, what needed doing this summer, but no one has dared threaten our school, at least not that I know of.”

Alex gazed at Malek with odd intensity, eyes crackling with an intelligence his slender frame could barely contain. “You and Jess are in the absolute thick of it. I've hinted at this for quite some time. Do you really not know?”

Jera, who could be as stern as she was beautiful, was looking less than pleased, fingers curling her rich mahogany hair in a warning clear to all. “Alex...”

Alex turned to his beau, voice softer, though no less intense. “They deserve to know, Jera. It's what we were talking about with our peers the other day. The basis for the little expedition we are planning...”

“We're not to talk about it!” Jera snapped. “It's just as secret as Jess and Malek blackening their daggers!”

Jera blushed, Jess and Malek both quickly looking away, Jess doing her best to distract herself, looking at her grinning cat, Twilight smirking at the interplay and not saying a word as he happily lapped the impressive tureen of fish stew a harried looking servant had brought with a smile the minute he had seen Jess seat herself. A tureen pretty much everyone at the table was ignoring, much like the happily munching cat. In other words, lunch as usual.

Raphael's gentle chuckle washed all awkwardness away. “I see that so many of my friends have exciting times just ahead. My heart goes out to each and every one of you. May you all successfully accomplish your objectives, whatever they may be. And when all is said and done, I know Josie and I would love to hear your tales during our next Circle meeting, whatever it is you are able to share.” He lifted his cup with a smile. “To Highrock, and the best band of friends anyone could ask for.”

Everyone smiled and drank, at ease and bantering once more, and Jess did her best to ignore the occasional too knowing looks sent her way once lunch had passed, harried-looking boys and girls darting to their classes as Malek and Jess made their way back to their respective quarters once more.

“What do you think Alex was going on about, anyways?” Jess wondered aloud. “And the way Raphael's eyes widened, I'm sure he knows.”

“Not a clue,” Malek said before weaving out of the way of a panicked-looking boy darting down the stone corridor. “Watch where you're going!” he snapped.

The youth immediately turned around, blanching as he caught Malek's gaze, the hot retort Jess sensed him but a heartbeat away from shouting turning instead to a breathless swallow. “I'm sorry, my lord. Please forgive me.”

“Bloody hells,” Malek grimaced, waving the boy away. “I would trust my fellows with my life, you know that, Jess, but somehow everyone always knows. And the first-years stare at us like we are wild beasts, afraid we'll bite their heads clean off.”

Jess shrugged. “Sometimes I think rumor is its own magic. It lives and breathes, even if no one is around to give it life. Somehow, people just know. As long as they don't know too much. As long as they don't know a single damned detail that can come back to haunt us.”

Malek nodded. “Thank the gods they never do.” Intent eyes gazed into her own. “What did you think of Mord being at practice today?”

Jess winced. “I could have gone the rest of the week quite happily without seeing his smirk. But knowing whose pet he is, I'm not surprised he was there.”

Malek nodded. “At least he's never shy about joining us, unlike most Aspirants. I have to give the bastard credit for that, at least.”

"Oh, he loves these little missions well enough, I suppose. He's a bloodthirsty bastard who just enjoys watching his enemies scream. But any tool for battle, as Eloquin might say."

Malek snorted. “He's a godawful jackanapes, but he has yet to stab us in the back during a mission, and he's damn good with a sword. For that reason alone, Eloquin puts up with him when we blacken our daggers. Still, I'd be happy to wipe that smirk off his face at school, but he laughs in my face whenever I try to challenge him.”

Jess flushed and looked away. “I'm not proud of who I become when the bloodlust is up, Malek. But I won't deny what I am, either. You, you are the same way. But Mord? He revels in it, and never feels a lick of regret, afterwards.”

Jess

Her familiar's surge of warning. Yet Jess still hissed in surprise when she turned the corner before her rooms to find Mord leaning against her door, grinning at her so cockily, sauntering towards her as she stared and fumed.

“And why should either of us feel a lick of regret, my prize? We revel in the chaos and madness of battle, in bringing the curs to heal that would dare to rise against us.” Mord's bemused smile turned dark. Savage. “We revel in their screams and blood as we cut them down to the last man. Without mercy, without remorse. No survivors. Just as your master prefers it.”

Jess scowled. “We hurt no innocents, Mord. You know that. Any captured serfs or freemen we find, we bring to the keep. To heal, to start life anew.”

Mord, dressed in tight fitting doublet and hose of darkest blue, chuckled softly, slowly circling Jess, gazing at her like a prized mare. He completely ignored a coldly glaring Malek, only flashing Jess a mocking smile when she felt the need to turn around, to always meet his dark gaze with her own. “Of course, my dear Jessica. Of course.”

“What do you want, Mord?”

He shrugged and smiled, cold eyes never leaving her own.

“What do I want, Jessica? The same things you do, I suppose. The hot satisfaction of rooting out the vile miscreants that would dare to fester upon our lands. The fierce exultation of raining down my chastisement upon their broken flesh. The rush of running my sword through my enemy's heart, watching their eyes glaze over in death.” His smile was bleak. Chilling.

Jess swallowed and looked away.

“Admit it, Jessica. You love the rush of blood and battle every bit as much as I do. Your heart races for the savage glory to come, whenever our masters cry havoc and unleash us to slaughter all foes. And it shows, my prize. Every revel afterwards, it shows.”

Jess felt herself flush hotly. “Cease your blather, Mord, and leave me be. I really don't want to have this conversation with you.”

Mocking laughter, fingers lightly brushing her cheek.

"Mord!"

Malek snarled, hands curled into fists. Only a fool would underestimate the strength of a trained Squire. Tightly corded musculature hidden by his attire, the Sousel clan had always possessed a deceptive strength, and Malek was all too easy to underestimate. Yet a few broken bones during their first year at Highrock had made it clear to all that Malek was one student it was best not to cross, even before he had become a Squire, no matter his taste in lovers or friends.

“So this is the girl you would marry, Mord?”

Jess blinked, only in that moment taking in the girl who had seemed to blend so well beside Mord's glaring presence that Jess was only now aware of her. Soft lips pursed in a thoughtful frown as entrancing eyes peered ever so carefully at a suddenly discomfited Jess. Heart shaped features set off by dark hair the exact same shade as Mord's, the girl possessed a striking beauty, no less for her preference of silken doublet and hose that emphasized a body lithe and powerful, that of a fencer or a dancer.

Jess noted the diminutive rapier at the girl's hip, its silvered hilt matching the half-moon locket the girl wore. Normally Jess hated light fencing weapons of little use against an armored warrior, yet all too able to take the life of a soldier who fell prey to an arrogant noble's goading, dueling without armor or shield, playing to a rapier's strengths. But upon this girl's hips, the blade only emphasized her athletic grace.

Jess felt her cheeks flush under the other girl's considering gaze, but couldn't pull her eyes away.

“Does my cousin Sable meet with your approval, my sweet?” Mord's arrogant voice, an insignificant buzz.

Sable's lips curved into an approving smile. “She has a harlot's face, a warrior's arms, a mother's hips. You could do worse than her, Mord. Far worse.”

Jess shook her head, not knowing whether to be flattered or offended. “There's a lot more to me than my arms and hips. Perhaps you'd like to make a more careful examination in my quarters?”

Sable blinked at that, momentarily taken aback, before a slow smile caressed her lips.

Jess flushed as soon as the words left her mouth, the girl before her now chuckling throatily. “Oh, I do hope you actually manage to win her, Mord. She might prove quite delightful. A lovely distraction, if I end up forced home once more.”

It was then that Jess heard the soft cry of a baby. Sable's features flashed from anxious worry to cool exasperation in the span of a second. Gentle brows furrowing, she peered down the hallway. “That's what comes of taking pity on your house staff, even if it would have been easier to throw the silly chit in the street. Their burdens become your own.” She shook her head. “Come here at once, Ava.”

“Yes, my lady.” And as fast as the words were said, a young woman hurried over to them, quickly curtsying while holding a baby swaddled in finest fabrics, far beyond what any peasant woman, even a house servant, could normally afford.

Sable tapped her foot impatiently. “Well, let me see the little thing.”

“At once, my lady.” Carefully, Ava rearranged the child's swaddle such that Jess caught sight of the most exquisitely beautiful sleeping face, her cries having faded to soft murmurs once more.

Sable's gaze was tender. "It's important to care for Julia properly, Ava. Feed her, change her, rock her when she sobs. It is most disconcerting when her cries interrupt nobles during their discourse."

Ava blinked, gazing at Sable strangely before bowing her head. “Yes, my lady.”

Sable turned to Jess once more. “My apologies.”

Jess dipped her head. “No worries, Sable, motherhood must always come first.”

Sable blinked at this before chuckling softly. "At least that's one risk neither of us face, should we spend the afternoon in your quarters speaking of all of life's... possibilities."

Jess shivered as Sable leaned in and brushed Jess's ear with her lips. "You could do far worse than Mord, Jess. In fact, he just might surprise you. All you need to do is submit." She stepped back and winked.

Jess smirked, leaning in just as quickly as Sable had, caressing Sable's ear with her own lips. "Your cousin is a bloodthirsty toad. I'd far rather find you in my bed than he."

Sable abruptly burst out in laughter, ignoring Mord's furious glare. “I think I like her. She has fire, but I saw her eyes when she looked at Ava's... child. Your future babes will need someone tender in their lives, considering how cold the rest of our pathetic family is.”

Jess blinked as Mord's angry glare for her turned to the gentlest of gazes for his sister. Such a look on the face of her nemesis was troubling in the extreme. It made him seem almost human. “You know us all too well, dearest Sable. Jess will make a fine prize.”

Mord turned to a suddenly furious Jess, his cold smile never leaving his face. “Get your precious sleep, my Jess. Two days to rest up and dream of all the ways I will ravish you, after we are baptized in blood once more.”

“The hell I'll let you!” Jess hissed.

Mord's mocking gaze hardened. "It is time for you to stop refusing me during the revels. You know the claim I now have upon you." He smirked. "I know how much you value duty, and what greater duty is there than for a woman to submit to her family's wishes?"

With a final mocking wave he departed, never looking back, though Sable did, clasping the half-moon locket she wore, her solemn gaze locked upon Jess's own.

Malek slammed fist into palm. “Bloody hells. What games are they playing?”

Jess frowned. “You caught it too, then?”

Malek smirked. “What, the way Sable lost her entire veneer of jaded bemusement when gazing at the child? Or how odd it is for her to be coming to Highrock now, during the semester lull, and why is she bringing a wayward servant and her babe along, if it's not really hers?”

Jess nodded. “Or the fact that had Mord been born with softer features, a woman, not a man, the pair would look near identical.”

Malek frowned. “You're right. If they're cousins, the Plaga clan needs fresh blood for sure.”

“Either that, or they're not cousins at all.”

“Damn. And they look to be the same age, or close enough. Are they siblings? Why bother with all this secrecy then? Why is Sable even here? What game are they playing?”

Jess shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, but you saw the half-moon locket Sable was wearing."

Malek nodded. “What of it?”

“I've seen Mord wearing an identical one. I suspect normally he keeps it hidden under his doublet, but once when I spied upon him sparring, it dangled free. His opponent clipped it with his stick, and I swear, I thought Mord was going to kill the boy, so fierce was his rage."

Malek blinked. “Now that's interesting. Obviously he values it more than a casual trinket. Perhaps it's a receptacle for resonance magics? Most consider that superstition or folk-magic. Not really within the bounds of the elementalist paradigm.” Malek frowned thoughtfully. “It's conceivable such a thing could exist, however, relying on the magical principals of similarity and contagion. Someone might be able to get it to work, but only if it involved two halves of a whole. Of course that's impossible for people, unless...”

“Unless what? Malek, what are you talking about?”

Brooding eyes met Jess's own. “Do you think it's possible they could be twins?”

Jess shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. But let's say they are. So what?”

“Well, let's just say... theoretically it's possible they could communicate through those amulets.” Malek chuckled ruefully. “And what we are engaging in here is the most absurd of conjectures. The kind of talk that once got folk burned as witches, in less educated times. We know they are related, and that they wear matching lockets. Odds are it's nothing more than that.”

Jess frowned. “Perhaps.” But she could have sworn she felt a flash of...something, just for an instant, when Sable had been holding her locket so tightly.

Maleks' friendly gaze hardened. "But the locket was not the only thing of note during our friendly little discourse."

Jess flushed and bowed her head, knowing she could never hide anything from her shieldbrother for very long.

A powerful hand gently lifted her chin. Soft brown eyes filled with such protective love gazed upon her own. "Jess, whatever it is, you can tell me."

Jess swallowed, giving a bitter shake of her head. "It's the Plaga clan. They, well, they are pressing suit for my hand."

Malek's concerned gaze turned dark. "Please don't tell me..."

Jess grimaced, squeezing back tears. "My father has not outright refused. To think, they would pair me with that bloodthirsty monster..."

"Bloody hells," Malek hissed. "That's madness! He's been a thorn in your side for years!" He sighed. "If only you could have told your family."

Jess turned away, fists clenched in frustration. "It's not that simple, Malek. Had I breathed a word about how cruel Mord truly is, had I told her how viciously he had attacked me and sought to maim me during the first year bouts, Mother would have delighted in it! It would have been the perfect pretext to pull me out of Highrock and stick me in the finishing school of her choosing. Thousands of hours of grueling training for nothing as I am suddenly forced to wear stifling dresses and primp before jaded men treating me like a third rate pick when I could wipe the floors with them in any training ring in the kingdom!" Jess shook her head. "Only then would Mord's victory, and my mother's, be complete."

Malek wordlessly gathered Jess in his arms, squeezing her tight as she quietly sobbed. "I know, Jess," Malek soothed. "I know. That's why I never castigated you like Josie or Jera did, before they truly understood how deep the game being played against you was." He gently stepped back, gazing into Jess's tear-filled eyes. "Your mother loves you, you know. Don't for a moment think she doesn't. It's just that she's one of those women who needs to control all the pieces in the board before her. Sadly, her mind can't help but see you as a delicate maiden in a dress, wishing to treat you as such, no matter that you are one of the deadliest knights on the board."

Jess smirked. "At least Eloquin values me, even if no one else at this bloody school does."

Malek grinned, giving Jess's shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Hardly Eloquin alone, Jess. I know for a fact that the healers are grateful for your gifts with plants, and your fellow Squires love you. Our lives, after all, are in your hands whenever we blacken our daggers. For all that our training and armor would counter most threats, at least a few of us would have no doubt perished, had you not stood by our side. And don't worry. Together, we'll handle Mord. No nightmare marriages for you. Whether serving under the king directly as Squires of War, or leaving Highrock to explore the world on our own terms, we're not going to let our families dictate our fates."

Jess nodded wholeheartedly at that sentiment.

Malek winked. "All right, I'm off. Maybe we'll get a chance to spar later. Now go enjoy missing all your classes.”

Jess laughed. “I always do. It's just nice that I can do it with the school's blessing for the next few days, at least. Now go take care of your beau. You know how he gets, when we go on these little missions of ours.”

Malek chuckled softly. "He does get in a mood after our escapades, doesn't he? Oh well, I'd best spend some time with him. He will understand without a word needing to be said."

Jess smiled sympathetically, well aware of how Jacob would carry on for a bit, castigating Malek before finally embracing him, in the end keeping careful vigil to make sure his lover awakened at the appointed time without fail. Jess doubted Malek would see more than a single night's sleep, but knew she could trust him to knock on her door when it was time for them to make their exit.

Jess yawned as her door opened of its own accord, closing behind her with a silent act of will even as she fell into her exquisitely inviting bed of cotton sheets and down-filled pillows, her sleepy thoughts turning to Sable, whose sensual eyes had captivated her, dark pools of secrets and sorrow Jess hungered to explore.

5

Jess, it's time!”

Jess instantly woke with her shieldbrother's tentative knock, quickly brushing and tying back hair now dyed the color of night, the door parting to allow her friend entrance. He smiled brightly, his eyes almost seeming to glow in the soft moonlight shining from Jess's ever open windows.

Jess flashed an answering grin, equipping herself with a Squire's practiced efficiency, her quilted gambeson and mail hauberk slipped on in moments, next donning breastplate and padded helm, those priceless masterworks of steel protecting her most vital organs, even during the charge. She then carefully fastened on armaments of tough boiled rawhide to protect her limbs and back with Malek's assistance, clamping breastplate and backplate together with a tabard as black as night worn over top. The steel would protect her from devastating frontal assaults, and very few warriors would be able to cut through the cuir bouilli protecting the rest of her body, for all that she had trained specifically to perform just such a feat. Fortunately, her gambeson and mail hauberk were full sleeved, giving vital protection, should anything actually manage to cut through the rawhide plates.

Malek saved precious moments strapping her prized longsword to her back. With a practiced jerk and spin, Jess assured that the blade would slip free and easy from its specially designed backsheath, a maneuver she had mastered over countless hours of practice during her first year under Eloquin's tutelage. Malek gave an approving nod, resheathing the blade as she latched mace to belt hook, both of them carrying cavalry saber and estoc in their sheaths, ready to be secured to their mounts. A final check of inventory and Jess was ready, slipping on gauntlets and securing shield last of all, after she and Malek both double-checked each other's fastenings.

Visor raised, Jess favored her full length mirror with a final glance. It had been a priceless gift, and she could only wonder what her mother would think of her now. No doubt the baroness had imagined Jess admiring herself in dresses, her bright blue eyes carefully lined with kohl, full lips painted a rich crimson hue, soft cheeks brushed with a hint of pink, her hair a shimmering mass of golden locks cascading like a waterfall down her left shoulder, a heart-stopping beauty sure to fascinate any young noble looking her way.

Jess smirked at the thought, seeing instead the stormy gaze of a girl fully kitted for war, lustrous tresses dyed the color of night, who knew what it meant to push through the horror and madness of battle, protecting her friends as best she could.

She had enjoyed the last two days of casual distraction, taking on any and all challengers in the sparring rings, having mastered Eloquin's assigned treatise long ago, and had to fight to keep from training too hard as anxiety and excitement had twisted together into an almost impossible knot that had allowed her no rest until she had finally dropped into an exhausted slumber just that morning, now conveniently refreshed as a sunset of burnished crimson and gold blazed from her windows, showing off the forest and fields beyond the academy to glorious effect, like the most magnificent of paintings.

A single touch assuring that her door would open for none save herself and they were off, all but gliding through the halls as they quickly made their way out of the vast structure that was Highrock, heading to the stables. Those few students scurrying through the halls that caught sight of their fully armored peers carrying cavalry weapons and striding with such deadly purpose all paled and looked away, scampering off without saying a word.

Mercy was unusually restive when Jess came to her stall. Of course the stable hands knew better than to prepare the horses of Squires or Aspirants when they came to the stables at this hour. If the grooms were not asleep they pretended to be, knowing better than to give a clue that they sensed what was to come. An apple and a gentle pat saw Mercy calmed soon enough, though perhaps she sensed Jess's own excitement. Jess softly blew into Mercy's nose, getting a contented wicker before securing Mercy's armor, comprised of finely made quilted linen padding covered by mail, with added protection for the skull, neck, and chest. The horse armor was as durable as any to be found on the continent, save for that owned by the wealthiest of knights, excellent at protecting Mercy from blows in the heat of melee that would otherwise cripple a horse and send her rider crashing to the ground, instantly vulnerable. Of course, a pike or lance would likely punch through in a charge, which was what made knights such a deadly force on the battlefield, and a disciplined regimen of coordinated pikemen such an effective counter.

Working as efficiently as any stable hand, Jess made sure the cantled saddle was securely cinched before checking the stirrups and bit, taking care to see that Mercy was untroubled by sores or discomfort, her hocks free of heat and tenderness. Satisfied with her check, Jess secured her weaponry to saddle hooks and straps last of all before straddling her mount.

Measuring sixteen hands, Mercy had a proud neck, powerful flanks, and was a pleasure to ride. Her stride was like floating on air, Jess patting her mare's mane as they quickly rode over to the training grounds furthest from the massive keep, where both Eloquin and Lord Hyve were silently waiting.

Icy blue eyes gazed into her own. Jess shivered and nodded before her master's unspoken question. Yes, she was ready for whatever the night would bring. Lord Hyve looked strangely relieved to see her, as if he had feared she wouldn't come.

Though she had never refused before.

Whatever the scars to her heart and soul, bandits were a blight upon the face of Erovering. Though most lords suffering from the depredations of slavers wouldn't dare lose face reporting their woes to the king, everyone knew Highrock was the place to bring such news. Such depredations could never be openly acknowledged, but the king had long ago devised other means to deal with the problem.

First, a scout would verify the rumors and reports sent their way. Should he vouch for the claim, or should he go missing, Eloquin's Squires of War would do what needed to be done. And Jess would be damned before she allowed her brothers and sisters of the blade to be imperiled by chance arrow or spear, when her presence alone could save their lives.

She would never fail to blacken her dagger, no matter how fiercely the savagery she embraced would haunt her in the days to come.

Endless moments later, Eloquin scanned the lonely moonlit fields leading from stables to the field. Everyone who was coming was there. Lord Hyve frowned as he looked over the assembled mass of Squires and Aspirants. There were far more of the former than the latter.

It appeared that most of his proteges did not want to stain their honor or risk serious injury or death in embracing a black mission, not even for their supposedly beloved master.

Malek flashed her a cold smile. “When all is said and done, we see who has the stones to do what needs doing, and who would rather sleep in their downy beds, knowing Hyve would never call them out for skipping something as ugly and unorthodox as this.”

Jess kept her face carefully neutral, feeling Lord Hyve's intense gaze upon her still.

“Assemble.”

Jess shivered with that one word, instantly taking her place in orderly rows beside her fellow Squires and Aspirants, accepting both Eloquin's disappointment and cold acceptance of the situation. It was what it was, and all too many Aspirants had failed that most crucial of tests: Being there for a fellow in need, particularly their master, in a venue where they would never formally be reprimanded, allowing their true natures to come to the fore.

Jess had no doubt that many would have cause to rue their choice, for Eloquin never forgot a face or a slight. He might not take it personally, but where he had influence, Aspirants that could not be bothered to serve could not be bothered to command, and might find the path to becoming a Knight of the Crown far more grueling than they had once imagined. No matter that Lord Hyve was their master, General Eloquin was not a man to take lightly under any circumstances.

The knight commander scowled before shaking his head. His gaze went to his students, standing at perfect attention. He smiled, looking suddenly relieved when he caught sight of Mord, who did not hesitate to salute his master, fist to chest.

“The Aspirants are assembled, Commander.”

Hyve nodded. “Very good, Mord. Very good. I know a number of our fellows sickened earlier today. I shall certainly have a word with our cooks. My Aspirants know I place their well-being and safety above all else, and I will not risk the lives of weakened men. Still, it pleases me to see so many of my Aspirants at full strength, ready to serve Erovering in her time of need.”

Mord's smile was free of mockery or guile, for all that Jess almost pitied Hyve's need to justify so many of his students' absence. “Those that stand strong beside me are free of stomach cramps, my lord. We will fight with honor and courage to do our master proud.”

Malek was busy exchanging hand signs with their fellow Squires, before turning to Neal and nodding.

Neal, their nominal leader, saluted Eloquin, fist to heart. “The Squires stand ready, Commander Eloquin.”

Eloquin smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. It never did. “Very good, Neal. Standard procedure from here on out. You will refer to me as Hawk. You will refer to Knight Commander Hyve as Lance. You will refer to yourselves by first syllables only, or use hand sign. Are we clear?”

This was said for the benefit of the Aspirants, Jess knew. It allowed everyone to speak in short, tight, tactical phrases when time and clarity was of the essence, and it made it all the harder for any witness to verify the identity of any Squire or Aspirant engaging in the bloody work they were about to embrace once more.

Armored fists slammed to breastplates in unison, Squires and Aspirants alike. They were ready.

Eloquin nodded and turned to Commander Hyve. “My Squires stand ready, Lance.”

Hyve nodded slowly. “Very good, Hawk.” He turned to Mord. “You have earned the right to lead, Mord. These students are under your care. Prove yourself worthy, and do not disappoint.”

Fist to chest once more. “No, Lance, I shall not.” Mord turned then, visor raised as all of theirs were, gazing back at them.

“Neal, take command of your Squires. You will be right flank. Aspirants shall be left. Unless I shout otherwise, do as you see fit. We shall form proper battle plans once we have scouted out the slaver's fortifications.”

Neal gazed coolly at Mord for several long seconds before slamming fist to chest, bowing his head. “As you command.”

Jess saw Eloquin give the slightest of nods when Neal glanced his way. So be it. This was to be Lord Hyve's performance, and if he wanted to let Mord steer the reins, they were bound to follow.

Jess carefully hid her displeasure before looking up once more, eyes instantly caught by Mord's dark gaze. "Jess. Ride beside me and assure no root or branch hinders us as we make our way."

Jess winced but was not so foolish as to decline, for all that she refused to salute him, no matter how Lord Hyve frowned.

And shortly after that, Jess found herself leading around three score of Erovering's most elite students by moonlight along the great road that would eventually lead to Krona, the shining Jewel of the capital. It was a sedate pace, all of the Aspirants and most of the Squires proceeding in almost meditative silence under the silvery light of the full moon.

A quick, professional eye showed most of her fellow Squires with recurved bows secured, taking advantage of the royal edict allowing Squires of War to train with bows and crossbows, weapons normally the province of royal armsmen alone. The secured bows and quivers were of course discretely covered with burlap, easily overlooked by most, as Eloquin was not one to advertise a Squire's privileges. Most of the Aspirants had lances resting in stirrups, and Jess was pleased to see they were prudent enough to bring those of modest size, as they would be riding for a good number of hours, and much of it through woodlands. She'd be surprised if half the Aspirants wouldn't give up their lances in frustration with low hanging branches always knocking them out of hand.

She then forced herself to face what she had been doing her best to avoid, Mord's smiling countenance, gazing at her so intently.

“Do our troops meet your exacting standards?”

Jess scowled. She really didn't want to deal with veiled insults and being the butt of his mockery for hours on end.

“Jess.”

One syllable from the man she admired most in the world. Bloody hells. Eloquin expected her to take him seriously.

Jess sighed. “Yes, Mord. Squires are ready for auxiliary support, whether that means peppering the bastards with arrow fire the moment before you charge, or charging ourselves with estocs in hand, we have you covered.”

Mord nodded. “Good.”

Jess blinked. Not mocking at all. Strange. She took a deep breath of the cool nighttime air perfumed with the scents of pine and endless wild blossoms before continuing.

“My coin is on half of your fellows ditching their lances when we start cutting through the deepwood. For all that they were prudent enough to bring shorter lances, they will weary of carrying them soon enough, when endless branches knock them from their stirrup rests.”

Mord tilted his head, gazing intently at Jess. “Yet that never stopped you Squires from striking with lances whenever I joined your missions before.”

Jess frowned. She done her best to be discrete in all the ways she helped her fellows, but Mord was no fool. He had blackened his dagger just as much as she had. Why was he making her say it aloud? “We make fresh lances just prior to an engagement. You should know this, Mord. You've fought by my side often enough. It's hardly my fault if you weren't paying attention while we did so.”

Mord nodded thoughtfully, gazing out at the vast fields of grain blowing in the evening breeze. “You used your gifts, then.” It was not a question. “Excellent. I will expect you to do the same for my men, once we make camp and scout out our enemy.”

Jess nodded, for all that she hated taking orders from he who was her greatest nemesis, save on nights such as these. In truth, she had been planning much the same, though only after the smug satisfaction of watching pugnacious Aspirants fumble with their lances for hours through the deepwood before finally giving up, even as their Squire counterparts grinned at their frustration.

“Very good reasoning, Mord,” Lord Hyve declared. “Calenbry. You should have thought to mention such in the first place! Save my men the trouble of bringing their own lances, if you were going to use your knack to make them in any case.”

More than a few Aspirants could be caught grumbling or cursing. “We have to bring these things through the deepwood? Why did no one tell us?”

Jess stiffened at the chastisement, but did no more than nod her head. “My apologies, sir.”

Lord Hyve frowned. “And how did you know we would be cutting through the forest, in any case?”

Mord's dark grin widened. “You figured it out, did you?”

Jess felt herself flushing, for some odd reason. Lord Hyve appeared almost offended.

Eloquin's stern voice cut through the air. “Calenbry is no fool. When the head of the Aspirants himself honors my students with his presence, she feared the threat hit close to home. If her hunch is correct, taking the main road there would give any enemy scouts plenty of warning. Cutting through the deepwood would be the most prudent method of stalking our enemies without giving ourselves away.”

Lord Hyve was forced to nod. “Well thought. Your student does you credit, Eloquin. I only hope she has as strong a knack as you claim, for I have no desire to stumble about like a fool through the woods in the dead of night.”

Eloquin held his colleague's gaze for some moments, Lord Hyve eventually flushing and looking away. “Calenbry has yet to disappoint.”

Mord chuckled softly. “How talented you are, dearest Jess. One would hardly think you the laughingstock of half the school. And how many classes did you sleep through this week, my prize?”

Jess flushed as a couple of the Aspirants and perhaps a few Squires snickered. She didn't know what the big deal was. Everyone knew she had an invisible cat as her familiar, and that she hated classes. Besides, she had done far better this week than most. “Two,” she said with a certain measure of pride. “Just two. The last two days don't count, and the professors didn't even lecture me this time. And unless you want my fist in your kidney, you will cease calling me your prize."

“The classes did resonate with far less snores than is the norm,” purred her ever present companion, even now resting comfortably upon his favorite perch. “Of course, you managed such a feat by dint of cutting most of your classes entirely. I suppose that's one way to get out of your assignments.”

“Two? You didn't show up to our trigonometry class all week, Jess. You know, the one we are all required to at least sit through? Useful for judging the range of catapults and other siege weapons? Saint's fire, I haven't seen you attend a single one of our lectures!”

Jess felt her cheeks flush at Lucas's words, Mord's smile visibly growing with her discomfort.

“Lucas!” Jess would recognize Malek's hiss anywhere. “Show some respect!”

"I do respect her, Malek!" Lucas snapped. "Her and Neal both! Our lives are in their hands every time we draw our blades in earnest, trusting them to have our backs. I don't give a damn if she mocks the philosophy professor, ditches etiquette, and can balance a ledger no better than my little sister. But when our lives are on the line, I expect her to take the courses seriously, and trigonometry at Highrock is as much about catapults as anything else!”

Jess winced and swallowed in the awkward silence, feeling suddenly ashamed.

Strangely, it was Eloquin himself who relieved the awful tension. “You all know the real function of our college. Your other courses are but smoke and slag. This is the steel that will forge you into weapons worthy of the king himself.” Jess found herself strangely soothed by her commander's words. That was, until he caught her gaze with his own.

Jess swallowed, heart suddenly pounding.

"Calenbry. General Vyrm's Trebuchet. What was its range?"

“Two hundred feet when casting an eighth ton of stone,” Jess recalled aloud, for military treatises fascinated her like the most entertaining of stories, sticking comfortably in her mind so long as she read them aloud, even if every other subject she studied seemed to evaporate after a single night's sleep.

Eloquin nodded coolly. “You've seen the catapult the Aspirants practice with. What is its range?”

“One hundred and twenty feet,” Jess said automatically.

More than one Aspirant murmured at this, angry whispers and curses as to who had revealed such, their catapult having been designed for the competitions the following year.

“By the Goddess, who revealed the specifications of our tool?” Lord Hyve hissed.

Eloquin's gaze pinned her still. “Jess?”

Jess flushed, catching Hyve's furious glare. “No one, sir. I just had a good look at it when we were training the other week. It was just sort of sitting there and, well, once it caught my eye, it was obvious.”

Dead silence.

"Balderdash!” Hyve shouted. “No student could possibly sense a catapult's range with a single glance!"

Jess lowered her head. “I am sorry, sir. That's the sense I had of it. If I am wrong, well, I am wrong.”

Eloquin nodded. “Anything else you wish to say about that catapult?”

Jess swallowed. “You had best replace the central beam, Commander Hyve. Its core is rotten, even if the wood looked fine once sanded and stained. It will snap when you least expect it, with the results you'd expect from a siege weapon failing.”

Jess could see Lord Hyve pale, even in the moonlight.

“By the Goddess. There is no way.”

Eloquin smiled coldly. “If Calenbry wishes to play the fool and deny herself the opportunity to learn and grow as a scholar, that is her choice. I will say this, however. As a Squire of War, she has never failed in her duties, or her insights.”

Jess couldn't help flushing, feeling at once elated and ashamed.

6

The road will soon fork, up ahead. We take the trail leaving the highroad that skirts the forest's edge,” Mord noted, but Jess had already sensed as much.

"Correct, Aspirant," Lord Hyve commended. "We proceed up that path for another few miles before entering the deepwood proper. I have left markers indicating where the switchback cuts through the forest's heart. We will then enter, make camp, and proceed along the trail at first light."

Jess blinked. This hadn't been part of the original plan. They were to proceed through the night without fail, so as to be able to scout out the area around the slaver's stronghold before first light. They had already spent a fair number of hours on horseback through the dead of night, however, and Jess suspected the commander must be tired, for all that their horses, recently watered and always kept at their peak with daily exercise, were more than ready to continue the journey.

Also, if the gentle susurrations of the rustling spruce, birch, and walnut trees they were now riding underneath were anything to go by, Hyve was wrong about the switchback.

“By the Goddess, I can't see a thing!” cursed several of the Aspirants, and it was true. The thick canopy overhead had blotted out most of the moonlight.

Jess smiled, feeling strangely at peace, for all that they rode along the edge of the thick forest, sensing perfectly where they were in relation to where they wanted to be.

“Mord.”

Jess could sense Mord's smile before a few whispered mutterings caused the very few mages within their number to catalyze arcane globes glowing a gentle silvery hue, now bobbing just above head height, more than enough to light their way. Jess sensed the slight crimson tint coming from the orb of perhaps the least talented elementalist between their two bands, knowing that must be Malek's own.

“Yes Jess?” Measuring eyes, always seeming to see too much.

Jess forced herself to say it. Knowing Eloquin expected her to follow the chain of command. Mord had been put in charge, and Jess had no desire to butt heads with a man as powerful as Lord Hyve. She was not that much of a fool. “I regret to inform you and Knight Commander Hyve that the switchback trail a mile ahead is no more.”

Lord Hyve glared. “What is she going on about now?”

Mord smiled. “The path to your personal estates has somehow been blocked, Commander.”

"Impossible," he huffed.

Icy eyes pinned Jess's once more. “Explain, Jess.”

Jess swallowed, forcing herself to focus only on her commander, hating having to reveal so much of herself. “Some force shattered multiple trees nearby to block the path. Even if we were to find a way around it, we'd lose hours, and it would be unlikely that we could squeeze the horses through.”

“And how the hells does she know this?” Hyve did not appear happy, glaring at Jess as if it were somehow her fault.

Jess bowed her head. “The forest still reels with the cries of its brethren. Scores of healthy trees were cut down in the prime of their lives, just up ahead, and I can only imagine it was to block the less traveled route to your demesne. In other words, I think our enemies are trying to prevent being taken unawares.”

Lord Hyve's lips pursed into a hard line. “I will see the evidence of this for myself, Calenbry, and if what you say is true, then I expect you to find us an alternative route through!”

Jess blinked at this. Instead of the slightest appreciation for her gifts, the man was acting like it was somehow her fault; that enemies blocking access to his property was somehow Jess's responsibility to rectify.

“I will of course do my best, sir,” Jess forced herself to say, almost imagining that Eloquin had just given her the smallest of nods. Diplomacy over animosity. For no matter how much Lord Hyve grated, it would be foolish to antagonize a man so powerful, particularly when he had scores of well-trained youth that could serve as deadly adversaries or wonderful allies, though only a fraction of his students had dared to follow on this, the most desperate of occasions.

Sure enough, a handful of minutes later, Lord Hyve came back from his explorations cursing furiously, Mord by his side, flashing Jess the darkest of smiles.

"The entire path, blocked by a score of felled trees! If I didn't know better, I'd say deadfalls were deliberately placed as well, and I have no desire to risk broken hocks trying to force our horses through." He glared at Jess, fingers habitually pulling the tips of his curled mustaches. "Well, Calenbry? Get to work and make this right!"

Jess stiffened at his tone, forcing herself to nod. “I will do my best, sir.” She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, placing her now naked hand against the base of the nearest tree.

Hearing the hoot of owls, smelling the earthy scents of leaves decaying below and unfurling above. The cry of crickets. The shifting wings of a hawk, roosting nearby.

“What the hell is she doing?”

“Patience, Lance.” Eloquin himself uttering the words. Remarkably, Lord Hyve stilled his tongue after that, and Jess allowed herself to sink deeper into her sense of the forest. Feeling the whispers of the massive canopy rustling overhead.

Its secrets, now her own.

Jess opened her eyes and smiled. “Two miles ahead. An old trail our zealous slavers missed. No ambush points or traps lay in wait upon that trail like they do the first.”

Eloquin nodded once, his small smile for Jess alone.

“How by the saints could she possibly know that? How could anyone? I've never heard of an elementalist having any knack with woodlands before, let alone one with a warped, damaged gift.”

Mord's grin was almost cruel. “'Tis much like a scent hound's gift, I suppose, my lord. Useful in the hands of a master who can put her to best use. She herself might lack the brains to excel at classes or best direct herself, able only to serve as a source of buffoonery and entertainment for our peers when she fails to heed my words. Yet in the hands of men who can mold her to best effect, much as General Eloquin has, then our Jess can truly shine.”

"Mord, you will take that back!" Malek hissed, Jess herself speechless at the depth of her enemy's insult. He had done so little to taunt her since they began their journey, acting almost civil. But of course it served him best to catch her off guard, then strike with artful slander delivered as the most condescending of compliments, such that some might actually give the disparagement weight. And the way Lord Hyve was nodding almost thoughtfully, as if he too saw Jess not as a valued soldier in herself, but rather as a prized beast best steered by a firm master, sickened her twice over.

Jess lowered her gaze, even as she trembled with fury.

“I will tolerate no further slander of my student. Am I clear, Mord de Plaga?”

Jess's frustrated fury was instantly quenched by the chill in her master's words.

Mord's mocking smile wavered not in the least. He held the general's gaze for endless moments before bowing his head. “You know I have the utmost... appreciation for your favorite tool, General. I only state that our combined forces profit, with strong masters to guide her.”

Mord's possessive gaze washed over Jess, leaving her feeling off balance and furious. More than one Squire whispered of alliances between clans and betrothals, and with a sickening lurch Jess realized that Mord had made no secret the claim his clan had made for her hand. Jess clenched her eyes shut in frustration. Just one more blow her most hated enemy had struck against her, assuring no boy or girl would dare to court her now.

Jess speared Mord with a furious glare. His mocking smile for her alone. "I look forward to the revels, Jess, for then it shall be you and I alone."

Jess snarled and spat at his words. "Then I shall refuse to attend them altogether."

“Yes, well, enough of that,” Lord Hyve snapped. “Lady Calenbry, we are wasting time.”

Jess took a deep breath, bowed her head so none may accuse her of disrespect, remounted a softly nickering Mercy, and without a word to anyone, headed for the trail at a trot.

“Jess, wait up!” Too furious to respond, Jess pressed forward, taking small comfort in the presence she sensed trotting beside her, his crimson tinted orb providing a visible reference point for the others to use as a beacon, so none could fault Malek being by her side.

“Bloody hells, that man's a snake,” Malek sympathized. “Don't pay him any mind, Jess. No matter the prestige he's accrued fighting by our side in these missions, Eloquin still sees him for the miscreant he is.”

Jess shook her head. “To think, that slimy serpent has been whispering lies of our betrothal, as if I would entertain the idea of marrying that bastard for a second! No matter if she threatens to disown me, casting me out in the street with but a farthing to my name, if my mother actually thinks I will accept that vicious monster for a husband, she is misguided beyond all recovery."

Malek sighed. “Mord truly is a jackanapes. And the way Hyve takes on, as if you were a bloodhound in truth. Gets under my skin, the both of them.”

Jess chuckled softly. "Don't you dare let anyone else hear you say that. Eloquin's right. Best we choke down the bitter brew, no matter how galling, than let our arrogance cost us victory before battle is even joined."

Malek nodded. “Far better a score of mocking Aspirants fighting by our side than being backed only by our pride.”

Twilight chuckled softly. “Well said, Hound. For all that Mord is an arrogant ass, he does know his way around a blade.”

Jess grinned at that, for all that her friend was, of course, oblivious to Twilight's commentary. “Come, the way through is right over here.”

Malek's frown turned to a look of surprise as the thick, seemingly impenetrable underbrush that had taken over this part of the forest parted with Jess's gentle touch, the path before them obvious even to him.

“Bloody hells, Jess, it's almost a corridor. Just, one in green. And the leaves, they seem almost to glow, like pearls and silver shimmering in the sea.”

Jess grinned. “Moisture on their leaves is reflecting the moonlight.”

Malek frowned. “Should it really be doing that?”

“I won't tell if you won't.”

Shortly thereafter the combined forces of Squires and Aspirants made their way down the shimmering tunnel of green, more than one student wearing identical expressions of awe as the silvery light washed over them. Once everyone was accounted for, Jess wasted no time taking the lead, she and Mercy slipping from the trail back through seemingly impenetrable foliage as easily as a ship parting a wave, emerging in the lead besides a frowning Lord Hyve and an inscrutable Eloquin.

“How the hell do you pop in and out of the underbrush like that?” Hyve demanded.

Jess shrugged. "It's just a knack, sir. Now if we proceed this way for the next few miles, we should emerge just at the outskirts of your demesne. With any luck, the bandits will have fortified themselves close to the wilds to best escape official notice, making it all the easier for us to take them unawares from cover. I recommend we hold off on making camp until we've arrived, leaving us in position to scout out the area before dawn and assure that our encampment cannot be spotted by our enemies."

Hyve frowned at this, turning to Eloquin, who just smiled coldly back. “It makes sense because it is exactly what we would do without hesitation, did we have the youth and energy of students half our age. Calenbry is no fool, my friend, unlike the man seeking to claim her.”

Jess flushed, even as Twilight chuckled from her shoulder. “Well done. He managed to lance Mord and our rotund knight commander with the same barb. 'Tis obvious our dear Eloquin is worthy of his deliciously savage reputation. Of course, if he wasn't, we would have left Highrock for more interesting adventures, long ago.”

Jess shivered as Eloquin allowed himself the smallest of smiles.

No. He couldn't know.

Jess shook her head and proceeded down the path, having managed to dodge Mord sufficient that he was behind the commanders, allowing her to ride in peace, and ready herself for the battle to come.

7

Report, Calenbry.”

Jess saluted at Eloquin's curt command, eyeing their encampment, cleverly tucked in a slight dip in the forest's edge, the growth unusually thick where they had emerged, allowing excellent cover such that they were completely invisible from even a few feet away. And if any of the Squires or Aspirants had thought it at all odd to find themselves sheltering under lush foliage that so perfectly concealed them, resting upon a bed of leaves that kept weary bodies warm and dry without crackling in the least, no one said a word. Though the odd stares sent Jess's way, and worse, the smug grin Mord had worn, as if his prize hound had performed a neat trick, had made Jess more than eager to take point in scouting out the enemy.

“Positive identification of slavers, sir. They are holed up in what looks to be a perfectly preserved fortress at least several centuries old by the design. There is no central wall, but the keep looks to be comprised of stout stone with arrow loops upon what would be the third floor.” Jess paused a moment, gazing coolly at a frowning Lord Hyve, absently tugging his mustaches once more. “There is a river twenty paces downslope from the keep, with a small wharf and several buildings at its closest point. The waterway cuts right into the forest less than half a mile downstream, and thus is highly discrete, and utterly disconnected from our main trade routes.”

“Very good, Calenbry,” Lord Hyve began. “It is clear your odd knack serves you well as one of Eloquin's loyal scouts.”

“Like the very best of bloodhounds, isn't she?” Mord flashed Jess a possessive grin. Jess's cold gaze paid him not the least attention, focused entirely upon a frowning Eloquin.

“There are a dozen poorly dressed individuals in stockades beside the wharf, surrounded by men wearing standard issue infantry breastplates of boiled rawhide, half helms, and arming swords. There are a handful of spears in easy reach. I count exactly thirteen deserters outside the keep, with an unknown number within. They appear to be negotiating with a dusky skinned robed merchant of unknown nationality, accompanied by four pale skinned armsmen wearing chain hauberks, helmets, round shields, and falchions. Secured to the wharf is a boat of unknown design, though it implies that this river flows strong and deep for quite a ways... perhaps entirely hidden by the deepwood, until it spills into the sea itself.”

Lord Hyve paled as Jess's report. “By the Goddess herself!” he hissed.

Though she had spoken quietly so as not to carry, it had been clear enough that none of the Squires or Aspirants had missed the implications of Jess's words. Almost as one, they turned to gaze at an increasingly flustered Lord Hyve, pinning him with their stares.

"I had nothing to do with this. Absolutely nothing!" Hyve swallowed, panicked expression turning to a furious scowl when he jutted his finger at Jess. "And I will not tolerate slander from a half-wit whose only redeeming virtue is a knack for the woodlands, the same as any wild beast!"

Jess felt her cheeks flush hot, swallowing back bitter bile. To be so humiliated and shamed before scores of her peers, after doing all she could to secure their safe passage and give an honest assessment of the situation they faced, was more than she could stand. She clenched her fists tightly, ears still ringing from the cries of a dozen sobbing souls about to be sold downriver.

“Calenbry.” Eloquin's voice. An icy call to discipline. At all times, in all places.

Lord Hyve swallowed, flushed features facing the collective students. “What you have to understand is that we have not used this keep in generations. Once upon a time, my great great grandfather had quite a successful logging venture established upstream...”

Jess blinked at this, turning to Eloquin. “But what about the Crown edict against logging in the deepwood?”

“Silence, Calenbry.”

A curt rebuttal. Jess flushed and looked away from Eloquin's disapproving gaze. Of course he was right. She was on brittle ice with Hyve where it stood, and the wood was quiet, old scars long since faded. The dozing forest was untroubled by Hyve's presence. It did not cry out for blood. Jess was a fool to risk antagonizing the man any further, reminding him of breaches committed generations ago.

"As profitable as it was, there were heavy rains during the third year, and a spring flood washed away half the camp. A dozen lives were lost, according to the records." Hyve sighed. "It was discovered that the logging had washed away so much soil that the land could no longer properly hold back and drain the spring flash floods. Fearing for his grain and fruit groves, my ancestor closed the logging camp.”

Hyve frowned, locking gazes with each of Eloquin's Squires as he spoke. “Floods have never troubled our lands since, and in truth, I had all but forgotten about this property. None of my clan have made use of this fortress out in the middle of nowhere for generations, my administrators having assured me long ago that the structure was properly sealed as my grandfather had left it, and had been left undisturbed for decades. Imagine my shock to find that not one of those fools had the courage to tell me that my ancestor's abandoned keep was now in the hands of our enemies!”

Her personal feelings aside, the man was no fool, Jess thought. He knew that morale was everything. No matter his status and rank, it was far better to have the sympathy of students dedicated to wiping out banditry than for them to think for even a heartbeat that he was guilty of anything worse than trusting his advisers too well.

Lord Hyve turned to Jess once more, regarding her carefully. “I assume during your reconnaissance you had the sense to find a route to the keep that is at least somewhat discrete?"

Jess bowed her head. “Yes, Lance. Thirty feet to our left is a clear path at a gentle slope, leading right to their forces. No sheep or goats tend to the grass, so it has grown quite high. The ground also dips, thus we have excellent cover, should we approach by that route.”

Hyve nodded. “Very good. I assume Eloquin trained you in the basics of scouting out traps or ambush points the enemy could use against us?”

“Yes, sir. I sensed no significant disturbance in the land; there are no great pits filled with wooden spikes torn into the earth nearby, no spear traps waiting either, should we charge. But that is all I can say for sure.”

“That's all you need to say, Calenbry. These are clearly a former lord's pikemen who chose to repay the lord's gracious training and care by betraying him in the most heinous means imaginable, preying upon his fellow serfs and freemen. An unforgivable act!” He glared down at Jess. “If we do not strike fast and hard, those bastards will flee right back into my keep! Tell me, Calenbry, did you see any sign of pitch, lye, or men manning the arrow loops on the third floor?”

Jess shook her head. “No, sir. No smell of pitch or lye, no evidence of anything boiling or smoking besides a stew pot.”

Hyve nodded. “Good. And I am sure I can count on you to protect us from arrow fire. You are that useful, at least.”

Hyve locked gazes with Eloquin. “This is your specialty. I would have your counsel as well, Eloquin.”

A bleak smile. “Jess has yet to fail in her duties as a scout, whenever the terrain involved woodlands. But this terrain is field as much as forest, and you and I both know that there are no guarantees in war.”

Hyve glared hotly in the direction of the keep. “There never are. Let us cut these bastards down to the last man.”

Eloquin frowned before giving a slow nod. “Very well. Calenbry, are you ready?”

Jess found herself staring at Lord Hyve's flushing countenance, knowing at once that the man was both embarrassed and furious, and anxious to lash out at the men who had taken advantage of his lapse. A celebrated knight commander now seen to be unwittingly harboring slavers in the heart of his fiefdom, Hyve hungered for vengeance against the men who had shamed him before the world.

Jess grimaced, heart racing with something very close to dread, her throat suddenly dry. She turned her gaze to Eloquin. “It's Twilight, sir. We have always waited for his counsel before. Though it's true I have given as thorough an accounting as I could, it never hurts to have a second pair of eyes out. Twilight is also scouting, and should be back shortly.”

Lord Hyve blinked, his brows furrowing with impatience. "Twilight? We are not waiting 'til tomorrow evening to strike. We should do so here and now, without delay! If we wait another day, it will already be far too late for those poor souls below. They will be long lost to us, and we will never know who that damned flesh peddler is who thinks he can sneak into my lands and buy my serfs as if they were but chattel!"

Mord's lips curved into a mocking smile. "Twilight is not a time, sir. It is Jessica's familiar. She claims it talks to her, from time to time."

Lord Hyve's look of incredulity and outrage only grew. “Her familiar? Is she friends with imaginary beasts? Where is this talking beast, then? Let it address me, if there is such a thing!”

Mord's grin widened. “That would be difficult, sir. It is invisible, after all. Is that not right, Jess?”

Jess flushed and shrugged, knowing Mord enjoyed putting her on the spot.

Lord Hyve's eyes flashed. “It would be dangerous to make an enemy of me, girl. Speak plainly, and none of your games!”

Jess swallowed, standing straight at attention as she addressed the glowering commander. “Sir. My report is as accurate as I could make it. I saw thirteen slavers and four bodyguards belonging to the trader preparing to make off with what I fear might well be your own serfs, and I sensed no spike, spear, or pit traps when I got a sense of the land. Nothing wooden seeks to hinder us.” Jess took a deep breath. “But some assassins use traps of steel or tripwires, and as Master Eloquin always says, it is better to have two pairs of eyes out than one. And, well, Twilight went to look inside. Just in case.”

Impatient eyes locked with Eloquin's own.

“You may consider her eccentric, but she does not mock, and she is no fool.”

Hyve grimaced. "By your words alone, Eloquin." He turned to Jess. "In all your missions, have you even once come across slavers or bandits who bothered with even the most basic infantryman's traps?" Hyve quirked an eyebrow. "Well, girl, have you?"

Jess swallowed, her cheeks flushing hotly. "Well... not often, sir. It is just... I always take Master Eloquin's lessons seriously. Checking for traps and ambush points, no matter how slothful most slavers are, no matter that we almost always catch them in a state of surprise and terror, there is no reason for sloppiness, as the general says."

Lord Hyve gave a satisfied nod. “It is good that you pay attention to your master's lessons. You have a knack for wood. We've all seen it. You detected no pikeman's traps, and you can counter any arrows launched from my keep. This is correct?”

Jess bowed her head. “Yes, sir.”

Hyve managed a grim smile. “Well, then. You have served us well enough. Forget your imaginary familiar, child. Focus on the real world, and you might just find that things go a bit easier in life. Now, enough of that. It is time to strike!”

Jess caught Eloquin's gaze. He gave a slow nod.

Jess dipped her head, understanding exactly what was being asked of her. “I feel strong. So long as our formation is tight, I can protect both wings from enemy arrow fire and spears both.”

Eloquin nodded. "I expect no less. Jess, you take right flank, closest to the keep's arrow loops. Any fire should be aimed at your band. Neal, you will hang back, ready to assist as needed, with bows strung and ready to shoot any slavers that attempt to charge our flank or escape under partial cover. Position your men near the cluster of trees thirty paces from the keep entrance, ready to launch arrows or charge as needed. At that angle, you should be out of sight from anyone manning the arrow slits." Eloquin pointed down the elm dotted field they could now all clearly see, a handful of branches conveniently curling away, allowing the commanders and their seconds to view the field below.

Neal saluted fist to chest, turning to his fellow Squires. “Left flank, string your bows. We're to provide support at my mark. Right flank, follow Jess's commands; spread out no more than thirty yards behind her. Twenty is better. If you have any questions, now's the time.”

“Bloody bastards,” Malek muttered, once more by Jess's side, clearly able to see the slave auction below.

A pale-faced Liam swallowed, gazing intently at Neal. “So we are really going to do it? Kill them, I mean.”

Neal nodded solemnly. “This is what it means to be a Squire, Liam. I commend you for having the courage to answer Eloquin's call. Not everyone has the sand for this, and you just recently elevated to our ranks.”

Lucas wrapped his friend's helm. “You'll be fine, knucklehead. I told you not to come unless you were ready. You're here, you're ready, you'll ride right beside me. Don't worry about a lance for your first charge. We're riding in tight formation, and this is the real thing." He turned to Jess. "What do you think?"

Jess smiled, pleased to see that Lucas had so naturally taken Liam under his wing. She gazed at their newest member with a professional eye. "Liam's good with a saber, on horseback and on foot, and he cuts nearly as well as I do. Let's keep it simple. Liam, stick to saberwork. Their armor is infantry standard: A strapped iron half helm, and a breastplate of molded rawhide boiled in glue. Fair protection against pike thrusts and arrows fired at range, but it wasn't designed to counter cavalry because they don't expect anyone to break through a triple row of pike. No armor worth mentioning on their arms, cheeks, or necks." Jess smiled into Liam's anxious gaze. "Don't worry, my brother. This is your first blooding. Stick to saber, and saber alone. We will handle the rest, and Lucas has your back."

“You’re damned right I do,” Lucas assured, clapping his friends' shoulder before grinning at Jess. “Now how about you make the rest us some bloody lances?”

Jess smiled and nodded, gazing almost apologetically at the gently rustling trees. “Malek?”

Her friend sighed but came along gamely enough, Jess sensing dozens of eyes upon her before slipping deeper into the forest, and within seconds it was just her and a strangely quiet Malek by her side, lush canopy rustling overhead, the rich scents of evergreen and wild blossoms permeating the air.

After looping through the trees at seeming random for some moments, Jess abruptly stopped, bowing in reverence to the massive ash tree suddenly before them.

“Bloody hells, that's a big tree,” Malek whispered, and Jess only smiled, feeling the gentle weight of leaves brushing her cheeks turning into the solid bounty of long thick branches caressing her fingertips, the gentlest of tugs pulling them free, and within moments Jess found herself beside an impressive bounty of wood, bright green leaves, bark, and scores of twigs coming off the main branches with each brush of her fingers. Before long, Jess had shaped as fine a collection of hardwood shafts as any warrior could want.

Jess gently kissed the trunk of the great tree. “Thank you for your gifts, wise one. I shall make sure that at least one seed is planted in your honor for the bounty you have bestowed.”

The leaves rustled gently in the nonexistent breeze.

Malek chuckled softly, even as Jess weighed him down with shafts. “I swear, Jess, it's almost like the tree is having a conversation with you.”

Jess just smiled, not saying a word.

And when Jess returned a quarter hour later with Malek helping her to carry three score ash shafts, the hush falling over the entire group of students was almost a physical weight pressing against her.

And still Twilight had not returned.

Frowning, she quickly placed the steel spearheads Neal handed her upon the shafts before handing them to awed Aspirants, then to her fellow Squires.

“It's much more a spear than it is a lance. It is not hollow, and it has no vamplate to protect your hand, but one is far easier to make at a moment's notice than the other. Don't worry, the spearheads are secure, and assuming you train in the charge with both, they will not fail you.”

Lord Hyve himself gave an approving nod when he examined the spear Jess solemnly handed him, testing the spear tip, finding no flaw in the wood, the shaft tightly secured to the spearhead. "The spearhead is fastened as tightly as a man could want, with no time wasted heat-mounting or gluing the head to the shaft. Remarkable. Not quite as long as a true knight's lance, but... not bad, Calenbry. Not bad at all."

Jess bowed her head. “Thank you, Lance.”

Lord Hyve blinked, then smiled. "Time for battle code. Quite right." He turned to his Aspirants. "I find Calenbry's weapons to be worthy. Use these just as you would a charger's spear. They are not hollow, so will not break after punching through, so couch and release your weapons properly, for I will have no fractured wrists on our charge. Now let us scour this blight from our lands!"

He turned to Mord who instantly saluted, fist to chest. “Per your orders, Lance, I shall lead our men to victory against your enemies.”

Lord Hyve nodded approvingly. “I have no doubt of that, young Mord.” He turned to the Squires forming behind Jess. “All of you assigned to the right flank are to follow Mord's lead; fight as one, strike as one. Squire Neal will lead your left flank in providing cover fire as needed.” He turned to Jess. “No need to distress yourself overly, my dear. You did a commendable job leading us through the forest and providing us with suitable tools for our charge. Use your magics to protect us from arrow fire or spears, and you will have served your masters well.”

Jess bit back the words she so hungered to say, wise enough to bow her head low enough that the lord before her couldn't see her expression. “No arrow will mark my brothers' flesh,” she said, Hyve smiling his approval at her sentiment, for all that Jess quite deliberately kept hold of one of the spears as she mounted.

She turned to Malek, who nodded. “Lucas, Liam, and I all have our wards up, Jess. Those of us that can cast have done so, and good as we are with a blade, you know we can't cast worth a damn in the heat of battle.” He grinned ruefully. “Not yet, at least. Maybe one day.”

Jess gave a tight nod. A couple of their closest friends back at Highrock, Alex and Jera, true prodigies, might just have what it took to cast in the thick of battle. Most did not. Even the most skilled elementalist would normally be protected by a coterie of shieldmen, giving them breathing room to cast, even if swept up in the tides of battle. Of course, most battlemages only struck from the periphery before darting away, much as mounted archers did, the king not being so foolish as to risk his wizards unnecessarily.

Jess turned to the Squires behind her. “Squad ready?” Fists banged breastplates. “You heard Lance. Unity of purpose. In this engagement, follow Mord's commands as if they were my own.”

Mord's fierce dark eyes locked with Jess's own. She felt a sudden surge of exhilaration, only now allowing herself to embrace the madness to come. “Cavalry, on my orders!” Mord barked.

And with that, Jess and Mord led their fellows beyond the forest's edge, gazing down upon bandits and sobbing victims several hundred yards away.

Their foes appeared oblivious as Mord and Neal moved their men, taking advantage of the high grass and the dip in the terrain that Jess had spotted to funnel themselves into position. Mord readied the Squires and Aspirants for the charge to come with a few quick hand signs all understood, gazing at the excited faces of fellow students and restive mounts with an experienced eye. They still remained hidden in silhouette by the trees just behind them, the morning sun blazing bright and glorious upon their backs.

“Are you ready, Jess?” Mord's voice was soft, filled with the same dark camaraderie they always shared when school absurdities were put aside for the furious rush of battle in truth.

Jess swallowed, her hands trembling with excitement. Locking gazes with Mord, even now looking back at her so intently, features utterly free of mockery, reminded her once more why she could trust him to have her back in battle, for all that she loathed him at any other time, knowing damn well that their conflict would only heighten once they returned to Highrock, Mord pressing ever harder to claim her as his prize.

But for now? All that mattered was protecting her fellow students, warding them all from spear and arrow, ever ready to lash out in turn.

A firm nod and Mord gave the order, scores of expertly trained destriers going from walk to canter in a handful of seconds. Jess sensed no break in the ground ahead. No deadfalls or pits laden with wooden spikes, so gave the nod, and as one they broke into a gallop, lowering their spears in perfect unison, giving vent at last to their charge, knowing their roars and cries and the sound of scores of horsemen would freeze their enemies in their tracks, assuring a victory swift and complete.

A black shadowy form streaked forth from the keep, darting through the grass at inconceivable speed, headed straight for Jess.

“Jess!” Twilight roared, “you were to wait for my return! It's a trap! This whole place is a trap! Retreat!”

But it was too late.

Jess heard the sudden snap of steel biting through flesh and bone.

A dozen racing mounts crashing to the ground, flinging Squires and Aspirants both from their saddles, their mad charge broken with the awful screams of maimed horses and the cries of injured students.

8

Metal bear traps. A field full of them, Jess realized in those horrific moments of screams and panic as she desperately reined in her mount. Expensive and difficult to make; none but lords in bear country who reveled in the hunt would normally bother with such. Yet there they were, hidden in swaying grass; perhaps hundreds, for all Jess knew. No expense spared for a trap far harder for a scout to spot than pits or wooden spikes jutting from the ground. The fact they were made of iron and steel and utterly impervious to Jess's gift was perhaps simply bitter irony, or indicative of so much more.

As if someone knew of her strange gifts.

As if a traitor had revealed secrets that should never have left the halls of Highrock.

But no time for horror or regret. No time at all.

For in those moments, the central door to the imposing keep crashed open.

Dozens of heavy shieldmen and crossbowmen came rushing out, all of them wearing the colors of Velheim's royal soldiers.

And more soldiers still.

“Ambush! Retreat! Retreat the way you came!” Lord Hyve roared, immediately pivoting around.

“Jess!” Twilight hissed. The pressure of a single paw upon her cheek.

And she saw a score of enemy cavalry seemingly sprung from nowhere, already at a canter, closing in on Hyve's retreating Aspirants.

“Lance!” Eloquin roared.

One piercing glance and Jess understood instantly. Their enemy would crash into Hyve's flank just as he cleared the area they knew was laden with bear traps.

It would be a slaughter.

It was a maneuver none of them had been expecting. But the one truth of battle was that the best laid plans never survived first contact. And he who failed to react, to push forward, to always seek to outmaneuver his foe, would surely die.

Yet there were near half a score of students now mountless, half a dozen of those injured in the fall, two screaming as bear traps bit cruelly into their armor, saved from gruesome death only because they were wearing steel.

Caught flatfooted with the screams of dying mounts and injured men, seeing the grim specter of death form against him by his own family keep had been too much for Hyve. He was acting on fear, not planning. His panicked retreat could get his men killed.

"Jess!" A furious voice. Mord's. The one Aspirant who had not fled. In those frozen instants, Jess understood. Mord would never be so foolish as to counter his master's commands in the heat of combat, but he was determined to stay and fight. He was refusing to leave her side. For something far deeper than hate bound them.

Jess flashed him a fierce smile.

He had not fled.

“Jess!” Eloquin's furious roar. “Squires to me!”

There was no time.

Crossbows ready to fire. Wounded and stunned students who could do nothing.

A score of knights ready to crash into Hyve's flank.

And Neal, saints bless him, had actually followed orders. He alone stood ready, twenty recurved bows held taught, desperate gaze locked upon Jess's own.

If only the other Squires could act, he knew exactly what to do.

She had one chance.

Desperate in that instant to focus herself, Jess screamed as she flung her will into the twisting grass all about.

She might not have the ability to instantly tangle a score of Velheim cavalry up in tenuous grass, but perhaps she had strength to do what must be done.

Jess felt a momentary flash of dizziness. The sudden clang of steel traps snapping shut echoed through the air.

“Neal! Now!”

Neal did not hesitate. Arrows released with his whistled command.

Velheim crossbowmen shouted and ducked behind armsmen quickly raising their shields as a volley of yard long shafts rained down upon them.

“Eloquin! Charge the crossbowmen. The way is clear! Mord! Malek! By my side!”

Not wasting time even looking back, Jess pivoted Mercy around, racing to exactly where the enemy knights and Hyve's still panicked body would meet. A thousand images flashed in her mind's eye, tactical possibilities evaluated and discarded at blistering speed, time itself seeming to have stretched endlessly in what had been but a handful of moments.

“Lance! Pivot left!” Jess screamed. “Hyve, Pivot left!”

And miracle of miracles, he began to do just that, still making his way for the treeline as fast as he could, yet galloping away in loose formation from the approaching threat, the enemy cavalry now forced to give chase.

Jess heard the distinctive twang of crossbows being fired, but didn't dare look back. No one knew better how to counter crossbowmen in the charge than Eloquin's Squires, protected by the most carefully constructed helms and breastplates, Jess envisioning a score of her fellows charging desperately forward, shields held at angles to invite bolts skipping off before sinking their spears into the enemy.

Jess prayed she was right, and that the screams she heard belonged to the enemy, not her fellows. For if Jess had made the wrong call, at least some of her friends were dead, and she would never forgive herself.

Yet she dared not look back, so sensitive Mercy was to every squeeze of her hips, she and her mount having trained to fight as one. Instead, Jess focused her terror and fury on the score of charging knights she had pivoted herself to crash into the heart of, her closest friend and enemy both racing by her side.

Twenty lances pivoted to meet the threat fast approaching. In another time and place, her desperate strike against a score of trained heavy cavalry would be suicide. Jess laughed as a berserker's fury took hold, Mord and Malek's own howls the last thing she heard as she tilted forward, her spear expertly couched, and charged into the pivoting mass of knights full force.

Plated brigandine over mail met the tip of her spear.

A score of lance tips in perfect position to meet her charge.

And not a one touched Jess or her friends.

Her spear struck true, and did not break.

A terrific wrench, before awful resistance suddenly gave, and Jess tilted forward, pivoting herself to release her weapon with consummate skill, an instant before the wrenching force would cause her shoulder and wrist serious injury.

The clang of multiple armored bodies crashing to the ground.

Screams and whinnied panic, half a score of lances having been wrenched completely out of their wielder's hands.

A bow wave of force, horses belonging to enemies already off balance as their weapons cartwheeled away were easily knocked aside as Jess and her companions crashed through with singular purpose.

"Hyve! Pivot and charge! Pivot and charge now!" Jess screamed, allowing a single glance back at the milling swarm of suddenly disorganized enemy knights, three of their number still upon the ground, two impaled by spear shafts that hadn't even cracked as they punched through brigandine and mail, the third rolling around in agony, smearing stains of crimson upon the grass, hideous sucking sounds as the dying man gasped for breath. For the breastplate he wore had shattered, jagged slivers of steel turning his chest into a gory ruin, the air now reeking of blood and offal.

Her closest allies riding at her side, Jess locked gazes with the fiercely grinning countenance of Mord. “Well done, my prize. Now let us pivot and pin them!” With that he spun around, estoc raised, four feet of sharpened steel aimed for the backs for the knights only now pivoting around, shouting amongst themselves.

Jess snapped her mare's reins as Mercy pivoted around and sped into a gallop within seconds. An exchanged glance with Malek, a grim nod.

They were now putting their lives absolutely on the line.

If Sir Hyve did not come through, they were as good as dead.

Tilting forward with her estoc much as Mord had, the three of them crashed into their foes as one.

Jess felt her estoc punch through her foe's mail shirt with a sudden jolt as enemy lances were once more sent flying from the hands of furious knights, Jess letting go of her estoc just as it impaled her victim to the hilt, yanking her mace free of saddle hook even as the surprised looking knight before her gasped and coughed out pink frothy blood before collapsing to the ground.

And time seemed to slow as battlefury consumed her. The flash of a blade furiously thrust at her face, blue eyes glaring at her with terror and hate before bulging in sudden surprise then bursting, her mace having exploded into her foe's helmet with horrific force even as she parried yet another knight's warhammer, her light wooden shield resonating with the strength of all the forests of Erovering, jostling not an inch under the force of her opponent's strike, the man screaming piteously as she pounded down upon his mail covered forearm, feeling bone shatter under the force of her blow.

Mailed fist to exposed face.

Nose crumpling, another enemy dropping from his saddle.

Falchion whistling through the air, countered an instant before smacking into her mail covered neck.

A stunned cry as pain blasted through her skull, enemy mace not parried quickly enough.

Mord's roar, and a triumphant grunt turned to an agonized scream, Jess's assailant brought down.

But seconds before they were successfully swarmed by their foes.

A shout of defiance. She would not die easy.

Jess kicked Mercy forward. To be pinned was to die. A knight crashed into her, his sword swinging madly for her skull. Jess slammed down with her shield, her mace whipping around her foe's back, snapping up towards his helm. Fulcrum, leverage, killing force. Her helm rang like a gong to his sword. His helm rang not at all, but crumpled before the fury of her mace.

Another soldier dropped to the ground, spasming in death.

"Jess!" Twilight hissed, Jess wrenching her head down, a war hammer just clipping her helm. Ears ringing, her skull throbbed with pain.

Jess screamed, losing herself to the crimson fury, feeling as much as seeing her mace slam into desperately raised shield. A fierce snarl and the shield of wood and iron twisted out of the knight's hand. Chin no longer tucked to his chest, his look of surprise became a grimace of agony as Jess rammed the head of her mace into a suddenly exposed throat, mail coif doing nothing to protect her foe from a crushed larynx.

Hideous choking cries as her foe desperately clenched his own neck, toppling to the ground.

“Jess!”

Mord's disciplined roar. About to be overwhelmed by three foes at once.

No! The only one allowed to hurt him was her. She barely recognized her berserker's scream as her mace whipped down upon the closest knight's head, crumpling him even as sword and mace banged upon Mord's armored form.

“Mord!”

“Hyve comes!” Malek cried, and she felt as much as saw Hyve's men charge into the mass of Velheim knights. The fury of mortal combat having forced all their attention upon the three desperate youths pounding into them, Velheim's elite cavalry had been but seconds away from successfully surrounding and bringing Jess and her comrades down.

And so were utterly exposed to Hyve's charge.

The shriek and crash of spears plunging into armored flesh. Spears that did not snap under the terrible strain. The air was instantly filled with the din and cry of men thrown from their horses, slamming into the ground, shrieking or gasping their last, pink frothy blood spraying forth when no cry could be uttered, multiple knights expertly run through.

And not a single spear dared strike Jess or her two companions, for all that more than one Aspirant gazed at Jess in shock, terrified to have pinked fellow Highrock students in their furious charge.

9

Within seconds the last of the opposing knights had been sent crashing to the ground, a score of hungry maces and war hammers eager to pound the life out of even armored foes, cries for quarter or mercy utterly unheeded.

Shaking himself out of what seemed a dazed stupor, Hyve shook his head, taking in Mord grinning with gleeful madness, armor crimson as much as silvered steel, holding up a warhammer covered with blood and brain.

“Well done, Mord! You distracted our foes and made use of your beau's talents, just as I had hoped you would.” He turned to gaze at the furious melee before the keep, glaring at the scene. “Saints above, something foul is afoot! I fear the direst of magics; everyone is screaming! Approach with caution, men.”

But Jess and Malek were already racing for their companions, Jess's battlefury instantly replaced with sick dread, terrified for her friends.

It mattered not that Neal and Eloquin had acted in perfect concert, the results exactly as Jess had hoped; suddenly distracted crossbowmen dealing with a volley of arrows had been ill-equipped to deal with a charging band of Squires, with a score of enemy soldiers now impaled upon the spears that had killed them.

Yet where Jess hoped for the exultation of victory, she felt nothing but gut-wrenching horror.

For all her friends were twisting and screaming upon the ground, including half a score of enemy soldiers that appeared to have survived the charge, even as they twisted and writhed. All save for Eloquin himself, grimacing as if he struggled under the weight of death, doing all he could to stumble back out of what Jess sensed to be the most hideous of arcane traps with Erica, the smallest of their number, in his arms.

And never had General Eloquin looked so furious, so terrible as he did at that moment. Gaze hard as granite as he seemed to hold tight to the souls of dozens of Squires, refusing to let Oblivion claim them, no matter how they all writhed and screamed.

Gazing at them almost hungrily, yet standing carefully back, were the thirteen original slavers.

Jess felt her guts knot up in terror and fury in equal measure, having caught the gazes of the black robed men behind the slavers, whispering vile curses that scuttled through the air.

“Infernal trap! Jess, be careful.”

Jess nodded at her familiar's words, having sensed the outline of something dark and foul.

But it was not the complex weave of a spell, she sensed, so much as a matrix. An awful matrix that seemed almost as if it were pulling the very fabric of the land deep in some unfathomable direction, and Jess was filled with a sudden unspeakable dread, as if the beautiful land would flood with a darkness and horror so thick that no one and nothing could survive.

"Twilight!" One panic-stricken word.

Sapphire eyes hinting at such terrible wisdom met her own. “Be careful, my queen. Powers once taken for granted are now clumsy and strange. You would step into Shadow at grave peril to yourself, dearest Jess.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jess snarled but did not abate her charge, instead shifting her course, charging the robed men instead. “Malek! Are your wards ready? Dark wizards ahead!”

She could hear Malek's howl, almost like a wild beast, Mord laughing madly as he raced by her side.

Even gripped as she was by fury and terror, one thing didn't make sense. “Why the hell aren't those slavers attacking our Squires?”

"Your friends are caught in the darkest of traps," Twilight said. "If the slavers approach, they will be sucked in as well."

Jess frowned at this, shaking all confusion away. “Trap or no, those bastards are dead! Bloody hells, I know I can bend spellweaves sometimes, but if they attack in unison?”

Twilight patted Jess's cheek. She then felt a sharp sting upon her cheek. "Twilight!"

“You know what to, my queen. Hesitate no longer.”

Jess shuddered and gasped. She did indeed know what to do, realizing she could do far more than bend a spellweave.

What could be bent, could be broken. And if she could brush aside her friend’s magics with her fingers, imagine what she could do with her blade.

Jess felt a shiver, dark and cold, course through her.

Hesitating no longer, she quickly unsheathed her saber, carefully made to Eloquin's specifications, and as wickedly sharp as any fighting blade could be.

Grimacing with her mounts jostling canter, she brushed the blade against her cheek, wincing when it bit deeper than she intended.

“Bloody hells, Jess, what are you doing?” Malek shouted, but Jess only shook her head.

“Neal!”

“It's no good, Jess! Something is protecting those wizards from our arrows!”

"No matter! Form up with Lance! When I break Hawk free, give us cover fire while Lance charges anyone at our backs!"

Her gaze locked upon Neal and Lord Hyve both, before she readied herself to charge. Neal saluted fist to chest, Hyve scowled.

“'Tis cursed!” Mord shouted. “You dare not charge it!”

Hyve frowned but raised his fist, acknowledging their plan.

“Bloody hells. You're joining us on this suicide charge, Mord? And how the hell are those fools warding our arrows? I thought only windwalls could do that,” Malek muttered.

Mord laughed softly. "There are magics quite different from those you know, Malek de Sousel. Magics dark and terrible. Foul and potent. For the price of a man's soul, there are many, many gifts that can be wrung in exchange."

Jess shivered. "Mord," she hissed, but her horror did not stop her cry, kicking Mercy forward, trot quickly stretching into a ground-eating gallop.

Mord laughed, his stallion effortlessly matching Mercy's pace. “Fear not, my prize. I would not bargain my soul away so cheaply! Nor do I doubt that you will see us through. Now let us strike once more!”

Mord's chilling confidence washed over her. Insane as their charge was, Jess was leading it, bloodied saber raised high, peering intently at her enemies as they tore across the turf, hissing as she caught sight of yellowed gazes, withered lips worming into twisted smiles.

“She comes. Be ready.” A sibilant hiss in a foul language she had never heard before.

Yet understood perfectly.

“Jess!” Twilight's cry, harsh and urgent.

"Now!" Jess cried, lashing out with her saber even as she pivoted left, Malek and Mord flanking her still, and perhaps they could see the crackle of multihued energies tear through the air where her saber cut. Certainly, the air cracked with the sound of thunder hammering ears still ringing from the earlier melee, Jess wincing and forcing herself forward even as she lashed out, feeling foul strands of blackest fiber tortured souls snap under the force of her blows. Two spells cut, and the middle wizard stumbled back, his brethren shouting in a tongue foul and terrible, the trio pulling forth blackened wands as one.

"Jess!" Mord shouted, voice strangely free of bravado or mockery. "Those black wands are soul killers. Beware!"

Jess nodded and hissed, not even feeling the sting across her cheek, her saber having arched back almost of its own accord. She almost thought she heard it hiss with her blood.

"Jess!" Malek roared, and Jess felt the wave of vile energies washing over them as they finished their race around the awful dome of magics glowing all the colors of darkness, trapping so many Squires and seeming to pull the very land into a place infinitely foul and terrible.

Her saber lashed out as an enemy sorcerer spat out the foulest of curses, one Jess intuitively sensed could sear flesh from bone.

A horrific howl echoed through the air as her blooded blade smoked and sizzled against the wave of darkness, screams of the damned suddenly filling her ears, infinitely distant but a heartbeat away, then gone as if they had never been.

The closest sorcerer cried out, blood pouring from his ears, yellowed eyes gazing at Jess with naked horror.

And then they were upon the milling raiders, enemy swords hastily drawn even as Jess's saber whipped out, all her terror and fury translating into a series of wicked slashes slicing through exposed wrists, desperately raised arms, and lightly protected necks with equal ease.

The slaver's swords rang against armor or were blocked by saber and shield. With every desperate thrust Jess countered and struck in a single beat, Mercy pivoting with squeezes of her thigh so nuanced that they moved as one, even as her furious slashes turned slavers into walking corpses, blinking in surprise at the crimson spray gushing from their bodies before collapsing to the ground.

"Jess!" She desperately arched away from a furiously thrust sword while snapping her blade downward, the bandit's weapon just grazing Mercy's flank even as the slaver's snarling countenance ruptured in an explosion of bone and brain, Malek's war hammer dropping him instantly.

“Bloody bastards are dead!” Malek hooted, before turning his hungry gaze to the three robed men, even now protected by yet another shimmering ring of magic as they continued their guttural chant. “Cursed blackrobes are warded again, aren't they?”

Jess's smile turned bleak and cold.

Saber sheathed, leaping off her mare in one motion, stumbling only for a moment on her pinked foot, Jess slowly unsheathed the blade she favored above all others, her exquisitely balanced longsword at last in hand.

She hardly felt the sting as her blade kissed cheeks now freely bleeding, deep as those wounds were.

And the fierce exultation she felt as she lashed through the air, rupturing the frantically cast shadowy matrix she sensed racing for her soul, was as sweet as any wine. For all that her skull and cheek throbbed, they were only dimly sensed, so engorged she was on her own battlefury. She heard a mad howling laughter echoing all about as the dark-robed mages hissed and stumbled back, only then realizing that the voice was her own.

“Now your friends shall pay for daring to interfere!” One shouted as they fled into the keep proper, a single cursed shout slamming the door shut behind them.

Jess blinked and frowned, shaking her strange euphoria away.

“Jess! Eloquin and your friends are being pulled into Shadow! You must rescue them now, or not at all!”

Exultation instantly transformed to terror.

Jess pivoted around with nightmare slowness, seeing Eloquin's fierce grimace, bleeding hands seeming to grasp Shadow itself as he desperately clawed up the now yawning chasm of hideous magics they had been caught in, dozens of Squires crying out in panic and despair.

Jess blinked in awe, only in that moment clearly seeing the silvery chords that seemed to bond Eloquin to all of his Squires, even those who were shrieking their terror, pulled free of that shadowy cliff, in the grips of a hideous black wind seeking, Jess sensed, to pull them all into eternal nightmare.

“Jess!” Twilight and Eloquin shouted as one.

Terror beyond words infected her as Jess launched herself forward, sensing that a desperately grasping Eloquin, far stronger than any mortal man had a right to be, was only seconds away from losing his grip.

Seconds from slipping into darkest nightmare for all eternity.

Jess screamed and lashed out even as Eloquin snarled, Squires crying out as Abyssal winds sought to lever them free of their master's grip, desperate souls soon to be devoured by hideous things long consigned to the Hells below.

Longsword propelled by terror and fury cleaved through strands foul and strange.

A flash of brilliant color and Jess howled, collapsing to the ground, horrified she had lost her friends forever.

“Jess, move!” Malek's voice. “We have to get out of here, we dare not stay exposed!”

Head throbbing so horribly she could barely stand, Jess forced herself upright, ignoring the hot sting of tears, sobbing with heartfelt relief.

For Eloquin's gaze calmly met her own, as did the haunted gazes of dozens of her fellow Squires, collapsed upon the ground, shaking with exhaustion and relief. Of the hideous black void seeking to pull them all screaming into Hell, there was not the slightest trace to be found, only a circle of blackened grass upon which exhausted Squires shuddered and wept.

"Well done," her mentor said quietly, clasping Jess's shoulder. "Well done indeed."

On shaky feet, they stumbled to what mounts they had, Neal and Hyve both ready to provide cover fire and support, yet not a single arrow was fired by surviving slaver or Velheim soldier as Squire and Aspirant gathered their fallen, making their way for the tree line once more.

It was then that Jess very distinctly heard screams.

The screams of a woman begging desperately for mercy. The faint cries of her child.

Her head snapped around to the source. Children in the extremis of agony.

Mord, by her side even now, had stiffened and paled, armored fist clenching the amulet Jess knew he wore, his haunted gaze meeting Jess's own.

Jess felt her heart start to hammer. “Mord, isn't that Sable?” Jess remembered all too well exquisite features that were near the mirror of Mord's own, only softened with a woman's beauty; eyes haunted with pain Jess could only guess at, for all that she had favored Jess with the most jaded of smiles.

And the way Mord had looked at her, free of bile and hostility, his smile for Sable alone.

His cousin, Mord had said, though Jess suspected they were so much more than that. The only acquaintance Mord wasn't always seeking to taunt, test, or dominate.

Jess squeezed her eyes tight, clenching her recovered spear tightly to her.

“She's in trouble, isn't she Mord?”

Stricken brown eyes gazed desperately into her own. “Jess... will you help me?”

Jess swallowed, never having seen such painful need in Mord's features before. Never having seen him look so human. So vulnerable. “You know I will,” she said, turning to Malek.

Malek chuckled bitterly. “Bloody hells, Mord. How did your cousin end up here, of all places? This is a trap, it must be!”

“You know what Sable means to Mord,” Jess said quietly. “It doesn't matter what gambits are in play. Sable and her daughter are in dire peril.”

Mord went deathly pale, not denying it, even as he turned his haunted gaze to his solemn-faced mentor. “Master, I must... I must beg you for help. Sable and her retinue, far too small it was, damn it, had been heading toward the capital. They would have been a perfect target, her status all too apparent.” He shook, forcing himself to say words that did not come easily to him. “Sir. I am asking, no, I am begging for your help.”

Jess's throat was dry, her heart hammering as Sable's sudden cry was audible to all the assembled Squires and Aspirants. It was the first time Jess had seen Mord gaze so at anyone, arrogance replaced by naked fear for someone he loved, a desperate plea to anyone who would listen.

Hyve sighed, giving his mustaches a nervous tug. "I am sorry, my lad. As grateful as I am for your valiant service on the field of battle, we were lucky to escape with our lives. Lucky to escape from whatever foul magic lies in wait, a triple-pronged ambush set right for us." Hyve gave a suddenly stone-faced Mord a fatherly pat upon his shoulder. "Rest assured, my boy, as soon as we get back home, Dean Echobart will hear of this immediately, and will no doubt bring the full might of every elementalist who owes our college a favor, and together we shall purge this foul holding from Erovering, once and for all, infernalist den or no!"

Jess locked gazes with Eloquin. His lips hardened into a firm line. “It would be foolish, Jess, beyond measure. Space is warped, there. I know you can sense it.” His eyes froze her in place. “I have no doubt that you could survive dipping your feet into that twisted place, none the worse for ware. But if your fellows entered, at least a few would perish even if others would prosper, as strong as I've made you all.” Ice blue eyes pierced her own. "And it is forbidden for me to enter any realm of Shadow. Within Dawn alone, do I hold sway."

Jess shivered, so much conveyed with those words. Jess nodded her understanding.

"Stay in the forest!" Jess cried to her peers. "Sixty students under your care, and you will be safe here!" And somehow, by the soothing rustles of the trees all around, Jess knew this to be true.

Even as the screams changed in pitch, fury turning to horror. And from there, agony.

In an instant, she had pivoted Mercy around.

“Jess...”

“Please don't say anything that would force you to expel me!” Jess cried to her mentor, not even looking back, chasing after a strangely human looking Mord, in that moment all animosity forgotten, Malek muttering curses but following just behind.

10

Bloody hells, it's a trap. It has to be! Why torment her now, of all times? The wizards must have found the amulet you two share. They must think that's how we managed to find their base. They must think we've come to rescue Sable, and now they seek to pull us into the heart of their base! All of this it is to bait us. To bait you, Mord.”

Mord snapped his head around. Dark eyes filled with panic and fury glared back at Malek. “Do you really think I don't know that, Sousel? It doesn't matter. I will save my cousin!”

Bitter curses followed, but Malek did not slacken his pace as Mord kicked his mount into a gallop, none of them slowing down until they were right before the keep's main entrance.

Malek frowned, dismounting and glaring at the massive door before them. “Eloquin said something about a warping in space, that the other Squires would be put in danger... what the hell are we getting into, Jess?"

Jess had no words, merely glaring at the barrier they faced, toughened hardwood reinforced with multiple bands of metal. Jess had no doubt that even a ram would find it a challenge to burst.

Sable's panicked screams rang through the courtyard.

“Jess!” Mord gazed at her with naked desperation that struck Jess to the quick.

There could be no doubt. Even if Mord hated the world, there was one soul he would fight to protect.

“Break!” Jess roared, pointing her longsword at the barrier.

An explosion of wood and iron, as if the force and fury of all the forests of Dawn roared through her in that desperate moment, her mind ringing still with the desperate cries of a terrified child in dire peril.

Jess did not hesitate even as a furiously racing Mord unsheathed his longsword and charged into the keep to shouts and screams, she and her shieldbrother but feet behind.

And all was fury and chaos.

They were not alone.

Half a dozen roaring men wearing half helms and rawhide breastplates charged them, wide bladed halberds striking out in deadly unison to what would have been terrible effect against anyone save Jess's brothers-in-arms.

Jess roared and charged as the soldier's polearms tore themselves free of surprised hands, lashing out with her longsword in a vicious series of Zwerchhau strikes. Exposed necks were the only target she needed, multiple foes falling with throats ripped open from her brutal onslaught, the air suddenly thick with the spray of crimson and the coppery stench of blood.

Within moments it was over, Jess grinning fiercely at her two closest comrades, all of them coated in crimson and stinking of blood and gore.

Malek flashed a bleak smile. “We strike with all haste and fury, showing no mercy, giving no quarter!”

Mord nodded bleakly before stiffening, pleading sobs from his amulet now echoing strangely through the massive front hall they found themselves in. A vast room Jess now saw had been set up almost like a soldier's camp; the entire base of operations that single grand chamber, dozens of straw ticks with a central eating station were visible, no doubt latrines located just outside. Why the soldiers had not populated the entirety of the keep began to take on darker possibilities when Jess spotted the symbols written in chalk around the entrance to the corridor beyond.

Written in symbols any soldier would understand. Danger and death lay beyond.

Malek turned to Jess. “What could possibly be beyond that would frighten scores of Velheim soldiers or bandits or whatever exactly it is we're facing? Why didn't they just clear it out, or set up camp somewhere less threatening?”

Jess shrugged, a strange prickling sensation crawling up and down her back as she glimpsed the way the sickly green light wavered in the corridor beyond.

Mord grimaced. “I won't lie, Jess. The corridor ahead is at the bleeding edge of reality and the horrors below.”

Jess frowned. “What are you saying, Mord?” Even as she said the words she did not slow down as Mord resolutely approached the corridor ahead.

Mord sighed. “So long we have danced around certain dark truths, Jessica de Calenbry. I have enjoyed it, but now I need to know.” Intent eyes locked upon her own. “Are you one of us, Jess? Does your clan serve? Do you know the secrets to surviving the horrors that lie just beneath the veil of mundus?”

Jess shivered and looked away. “I don't know what you are talking about.”

"Jess, now is not the time for games. Are you protected by sigils? I have to know!"

Mord stiffened as Sable's voice cut through the air once more. Pleading not for her own life, but for her daughter's.

"That's Sable. Come, Jess, help me save her!" Mord immediately began racing down the main hallway, Jess and Malek sharing a curse, but footsteps behind.

Jess shuddered, feeling suddenly twisted and strange, as if some hideous force was attempting to squeeze her, to suffocate her, her feet suddenly dragging through molasses.

“Jess!”

A furious surge of effort, and Jess was through, taking desperate gasps of air and coughing, Mord looking at her with strange concern before Jess blinked and smiled, realizing that far from being the choking effluvia of toxins she had thought it only moments ago, she actually found the air quite sweet.

She grinned at a shuddering Malek who blinked, shook his head in confusion, and eventually smiled back. “Jess, what the hell was that?”

Jess shrugged, looking back at the main chamber, wavering strangely, as if they peered at it from the bottom of a lake. “No idea. But keep your eyes sharp, and be ready for anything.”

Malek chuckled softly. “Aren't I always?”

Mord smiled coldly at the both of them, looking as arrogant as ever, and strangely reassured. “Excellent. Proceed slowly. Those who lack the courage of our clans and come here unprepared? They tend to change.”

Jess frowned at this, even as she took in the widening corridor of stone, seeming to grow larger with every step, and Jess was suddenly not sure if they were above or below ground.

Malek frowned, “What are you talking about, Mord?”

Mord was about to answer when the corridor was suddenly filled with hoots and howls, half a dozen slavers charging out a narrow side passage that seemed almost a crevice, glaring at Jess and her friends with yellow-eyed madness before shrieking and charging as one, lashing out with swords and whips.

In the first mad seconds of combat, Jess thought it a bizarre mix of weaponry. Then as her blade cleaved through one whip spraying caustic green ichor as it writhed upon the ground, it's owner shrieking, she realized they weren't weapons at all, but rather tendrils sprouting from her enemy's flesh.

Though their foes wore helms much like the slavers fought so recently, they had become strangely corroded; a bubbling mass of iron and rust, seeming to blend into the faces of the men they fought, if they could even be called men at all.

“Jess!” Malek shouted as Jess knocked aside a charging assailant's blade before spinning around with deadly grace, intending to cleave her opponent's head from his body before suddenly tripping, her feet tangled in hideously writhing strands of pulsating flesh.

Jess gasped and coughed, the air alive with the stink of blood, bile, and the sickly sweet stench of putrefying flesh.

“Jess!”

She heard a caustic hiss, understanding at once that the slime covering the tendrils was burning through greaves and boots.

A cold bolt of panic filled her, realizing at once how perilous her position was.

“Jess!” Her familiar, a streak of blackness, cleaving through tendrils pinning her faster than Jess could blink.

Desperately Jess stumbled to her feet even as Mord roared, cleaving the head clean off the foe who had almost spelled her doom.

The horror froze for some seconds before toppling at last. Jess noted the knots of flesh now pressing against the headless corpse. The way the hand still clenched its blade. A silvery bulge covered in mucus suddenly blossomed from the bloody stump of the fallen slaver's neck, blinking open a glistening eye swimming in awful, alien colors, hideous and strange.

Jess began to keen.

“Jess! Don't be a fool!”

Twilight's caustic voice burned her fear with shame. she forced the horror down, forcing her blade in Ochs guard once more, point aimed for the throat of the nearest assailant, knowing that nothing was so foolish as freezing in combat. She lashed out with renewed fury as their enemies closed ranks around them, terror lending strength to her blows.

Almost of its own accord Jess felt her body position itself beside Malek and Mord such that they all fought back to back, their movements in perfect concert, blades lashing out to cleave whipping tendrils from assailants' bodies before plunging in for the kill, the twisted corpses left in their wake shaking madly before sprouting horrid tendrils, dragging themselves towards Jess and her band even as they step-slid away, desperate not to get trapped between their cackling, howling foes and the hideous things slithering after them.

"Burn in Hell!" Malek roared, plunging his blade through thick rawhide armor of their final human assailant as fast as Jess could blink before kicking the suddenly gasping man off his sword, sending his dying foe crashing into the awful mass of tendril infested corpses still slithering towards them.

Jess shuddered as her heart pounded in her chest, never having felt such terror in the heat of battlefrenzy before.

“By all the gods,” Malek cursed, gazing at the slithering monstrosities with undisguised horror. Jess gripped him before he tripped over his own feet.

Mord alone appeared unaffected, frowning at the infested corpses before peering back at Jess, a curious smile lightening his features.

“By all the gods, Mord, if you know something, tell us! Otherwise, let's get the hell out of here,” Jess hissed.

To her disbelief, Mord slowly shook his head. “No need to let terror consume us. Look at how they shrivel and burn.”

Jess swallowed and forced herself to look. Bodies of what now appeared long dead flesh had stopped slithering towards Jess. Silvery eyes covered in mucous blinked at her from eyestalks of twisted flesh and bone, sprouting atop the fallen slavers like hideous blossoms. And they were smoking. Writhing. Shriveling and blackening before Jess's very eyes.

"By the Goddess herself!" Malek hissed even as Jess stumbled back, her blade trembling in hands she fiercely willed still, the hideous things now moving once more. Only this time, away from Jess and her companions, slithering back on desperately writhing tendrils leaving behind trails of mucus and blood, the foul stench of burning flesh sickening Jess as high-pitched shrieks cut through the air.

Mord tilted his head. “Tell me, Jessica, how do you feel?”

Jess swallowed and shuddered. “Horrible,” she whispered, before realizing it wasn't true.

Horrified by what she had seen? Yes. Her guts roiled with the stench of burning flesh. But she felt strong. Strong as when they had first set out, fresh and ready for battle, not a trace of injury or weariness to slow her down.

Malek's gaze was still locked upon the last of the writhing corpses before them, boiling away to ash and ichor as they watched. “Bloody hells, these slavers, these things... are they even human?”

Jess took a deep shuddering breath, slowly shaking her head. “Gods above, Malek, your guess is as good as mine.”

Mord's cold eyes locked upon them. "We enter a layer of black wizards. In a place such as this? Expect to find that horrors long relegated to faerie tales have an element of truth that few would dare to believe." His smile turned bitter. "Are you still willing to help me find Sable and cut down the bastards who threaten her, or will you run away with your tail between your legs, as every other coward out there did?"

Malek's glare was hot and furious. “I don't care how much of an ass you are, Mord. So help me, none of these bastards are going to get away with hurting an innocent girl!”

Mord flashed Malek a rare smile of agreement. "I think I see what my future bride sees in you, Malek. For all your faults, you are as fierce a killer as any knight could want by his side."

Malek barked a mocking laugh. “Today alone I will take that as a compliment, Mord. Now cease your blather and let's find your cousin. And what the hell is she doing here, of all places, and now, of all times? Tell me that, why don't you, Mord?”

Mord's gaze hardened and he just shook his head. "We are wasting time." He dashed down the staircase they had been heading toward, Jess and Malek just behind, a cursory glance showing Jess no other abominations ready to strike.

The granite stairs seemed to spiral down endlessly before they finally ended in several inches of brackish water. Shrieks and gibbering howls could be heard echoing endlessly through decrepit corridors on all sides, the ceiling lit only by flickering green lights cast from no torch that Jess could see, and all was covered in sticky strands of webbing.

"Bloody hells, is this some wizard's pit, or a spider's den?" Malek hissed, but did not hesitate to follow as a grim-faced Mord pressed forward, without saying a word.

The corridor ahead branched off. Mad laughter and beastly howls could be heard from the left. From the right were panicked screams Jess recognized as Sable's own, mixed with the softer cries of what could only be a child. Perhaps even an infant.

Jess felt her guts writhe in anxious knots, Malek's haunted eyes meeting her own. “This place is not right, Jess. Not right at all.”

“Jess, look out!” Twilight cried.

It was then they heard a strange chittering from behind.

Jess ducked on pure instinct, sensing as much as seeing the strands of sticky fibers she had just barely dodged latch onto the stones by her feet. An abrupt wrench as the strand grew taught, the floor rupturing as cobblestone was pulled free, twisting back into the darkness.

“Blood hells!” Malek shouted.

“Kortar!” Mord cursed, and Jess felt her guts writhe to see her fiercest opponent wielding a black wand radiating darkest magics. Held so expertly in hands that to Jess's knowledge had never even bothered attempting to cast the simplest of spells. Yet the stream of ebony darkness roaring forth from the wand was expertly controlled, no shivers of power ricocheting through the chamber.

Jess frowned, not sure how she sensed competence in an art she had never seen before, yet knowing somehow that it was true.

She could feel weaves of darkest magic whip forth, strangely grateful that she could sense no trace of Mord's soul in the working.

“Jess!” Strong hands abruptly gripped her shoulder, gently pulling her back. “What the hell is going on?” Malek snapped, turning his ire to Mord who gazed once in cold satisfaction.

The hideous creature Jess likened to a spider scuttled back into a pool of shadows that seemed to stretch and bubble such that Jess stumbled back from the boiling cauldron of realms crashing upon her own.

“That shouldn't be there!” Jess hissed.

Mord turned to gaze at her, ill green light reflecting off eyes now shimmering like amber. “Are you all right, Jess? Do you feel heavy or sick? For now, we are truly entering the strange.” His gaze was fierce, yet more so, tender. He was worried.

Jess grimaced, not wanting to see such in a man she feared dabbled in dark things indeed.

“No, I feel fine,” she said, realizing the words were not empty bravado. For all that she had just survived the horrors of melee combat, for all that she knew she would later be tormented with memories of her lance bursting mail links, rupturing the lungs of men blinking with the strange wonder of death, her ears ringing with the cries of soldiers crumpling to her blows such that she wouldn't hear a word her professors said, refusing food even as Eloquin grimly commanded her to eat, unable to get the choking stink of blood out of her nostrils, in this moment she felt free of fatigue and horror both.

If anything, she felt vibrant. As awake and alive as she had ever felt before, her limbs all but bursting with energy. Curiously, earlier pains had faded. Neither foot nor skull troubled her, for all that she had taken multiple blows to her helmet.

“I'm fine, Mord. Fighting for one's life tends to leave one as sharp as can be. No doubt I'll feel all my bruises something awful after we get back. More importantly, what the hell was that, and what did you just do?”

Mord flashed a bleak smile. "Whatever it was, it has retreated back into its layer. As for the tools I have at hand, it is much as your master would say: Use any weapon at your disposal, even your enemy's prizes, so long as it assures overwhelming victory against your foes."

Jess frowned, but nodded. “Thank you for dispelling that... thing. I don't know what your game is, but you did me a good turn.”

Mord's gaze flashed with sudden heat. "My game is saving Sable. She shouldn't even be here!" He immediately took off down the corridor, careful to stay in the absolute center, Jess catching sight of strange liquids bubbling down the brownstone walls before exploding into steam and foul vapors as they mingled with the pools of water lining each side of the corridor.

Malek cursed and shook his head as they dashed after Mord. “A dozen questions I would ask, Jess. That wand, there is something strange about it, and never have I seen him in Master Rens's classes.”

Jess shrugged as she fell into an easy stride. There was not even the dullest throb from her foot. Strange. “If Mord actually wants to play the hero, I won't question the shadows he would twist in service to our cause.”

Malek frowned, but said no more on it.

“Quiet! We are here.” Mord's fierce gaze locked with her own. “Jess, I know we have our sweet struggle to entertain us back at Highrock, but here as nowhere else, I must ask that you treat me with the same deference as you will your future husband.”

Jess frowned at those words.

“Jess, there is no time! You have to trust me, or Sable and Julia die!”

Jess froze where she stood. Suddenly it all made sense.

Malek's gaze hardened, gripping his sword hilt tightly. “Bloody hells, I knew it! Sable is your sister, and Julia your niece. And that amulet you both wear; you two are linked, somehow. The only way a modern mage could get such odd magics to work is if you are two halves of a whole. She's your twin, isn't she? What games are you playing at, Mord?”

Mord flashed a bitter smile. “So many things I enjoy mocking you for, Malek, when we are not brothers in battle. But I will never call you a fool.” He turned to Jess. “Jess. It is important for you to trust me. You will hear things when we enter the chamber ahead. Things that might horrify you. What you need to do, Jess, is see me as an actor in a play. I am embracing a role, for the sake of Sable. Do you understand?”

Malek chuckled softly. “Just like an Agent of the Crown. Dark and crooked are their methods, however enlightened they claim their goals. I won't say a damn word, Mord, for the sake of your sister.” His gaze took on a strange intensity. “I don't think I'll ever like you, Mord. You're a cruel bastard who enjoys taunting anyone you think beneath you. But on the field of battle, you always had our backs when it counted, and I will not forget that." Malek sighed. "The death of someone you love on your soul? I would spare you that horror, Mord. For if this is not some convoluted trap for which I will take great delight in running you through, saving Sable just might be the only thing that redeems you.”

Jess hissed. If this were a trap, it was brilliant.

Mord's desperate gaze locked upon her own. “Jess. Look into my eyes. I swear to you this is no trap against you.” He flashed a smile, bleak and cold. “There. Did you detect any malice? Do I seek to betray you? I was not lying when I said one day I would claim you as my wife, Jess.”

Jess hissed and lurched away from that bitter smile. He knew. Somehow, Mord knew her secrets. He knew, at the very least, that she could sense a malicious lie when told to her face. Worse, he really did intend on marrying her. It wasn't enough that he had made her first year at Highrock a torment. She had never given in to his attempts to break her, and somehow, to his mind, that made his former nemesis the ultimate prize.

Bloody hells.

“Follow my lead,” Mord said, quickly making his way down the corridor to a doorway Jess could just make out through the strange vapors permeating the air, his step not that of a furtive explorer or furious knight, but that of the arrogant noble, exactly where he had every right to be.

Jess couldn't help smiling as she saw Mord tuck his wand up the sleeve of his off hand, noting the brace of knives at the small of his back.

Her nemesis had more than one trick up his sleeve, it seemed.

Within moments they found themselves before a door of reinforced oak, the most horrific of rites carved upon its surface. Jess did her best not to peer at the images of ritual sacrifice too closely, focusing instead upon the two men frowning at them with yellowed eyes, as if they were tainted by foulest illness.

“You know who I am,” Mord said to the two armored men lowering poleaxes in tandem. “Let me pass.”

“Mord de Plaga,” one hissed. “You shouldn't be here!”

The other snarled a curse, gazing balefully at Jess and Malek. “Why are they here? Their clans walk not the shadowy path.”

Mord flashed a bleak smile. “Are you so sure, Dileck? Even you must know the rumors around the Calenbry clan. The secrets they hold close. And all know that Malek is a black sheep, blood of his own kin upon his hands.” He allowed himself a bleak chuckle, even as Malek trembled in horror and fury.

Bloody hells. Mord knew it all.

Almost negligently, he lifted his hand to Jess, who knew instantly the role she was to play, bowing her head deferentially as she came to Mord's side.

Mord smiled triumphantly before glaring at the guardians before the door. “You know my place, Dileck. Your clan only prospers because my father saw fit to rescue you before you were all burned as witches, so poorly did you hide your rites.” The guards hissed and flinched at that. Mord's smile widened. “No matter. Father loves and forgives those who flock to his banner, and serve without question.”

A defeated bow. “Very well, Lord Plaga, but I warn you, you will not like what you see.”

Malek chuckled softly. “Don't be too sure of that, Dileck. You might be surprised, how far Plaga machinations spin.”

Clenching Mord's hand softly and the sheathed hilt of her blade discretely, Jess felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rise as she passed the yellow-eyed men, yet they did no more than glower as the three of them entered a vast chamber of horrors, crimson lights flickering from eldritch flames crawling up the vast domed walls, scenes of horror and depravity depicted with almost lifelike detail upon murals arching many feet above them. A cathedral to all that was dark and vile.

And in the center, pinned and strapped to chairs of torment were seven naked souls, sobbing and begging for mercy. Many showed signs of torture and mutilation, and all of them had red sigils covering their bodies. All were strangers to Jess save for one, Sable herself.

The girl who looked so much like Mord was a far cry from the exquisite beauty Jess had last seen only a handful of days ago, her flesh scoured and burned in dozens of places, her left arm visibly broken, horrific bruising and punctured flesh giving testament to the agony she had endured, even as she gazed up with what was still a heart-stoppingly beautiful face, curiously unmarked, staring at Mord's surprise entrance with utter disbelief, before breaking down into sobs.

“Mord! They are going to kill Julia!”

11

Jess hissed, tearing her gaze from a desperate Sable to look upon the three dark wizards even at that moment placing a screaming infant upon an altar of obsidian. The child's flesh showed no signs of bruising, though crimson sigils had been carefully painted upon her skin.

The frontmost of the robed men lowered his hood and smiled.

“Mord de Plaga. It is fitting that you should arrive now, of all times, when your blasted fellows managed to ruin months of planning!" His mocking grin twisted at once into a furious scowl. "How by all the Hells below did they arrive here so soon? Deadfalls and ambush points were expected to weaken and harry those damned Squires, and you were to poison Hyve as pretext for a full-fledged retreat! We were not expecting sixty men in fighting prime to emerge completely unscathed, days ahead of schedule!"

Those furious words rang through the chamber even as three ebony wands so very like Mord's were withdrawn as one. “Your sire's favored get you might be, but when he hears of this, when he understands all that your folly has cost us, he will know what must be done!”

The man snarled and spat towards Sable. “Even your pathetic sister failed us, her role far simpler than yours. A child forced upon her, one she knew only through the agony of birth, the sacrifice she swore to bear in honor of our mistress, one she would now deny! She refuses even to hold the dagger! This bitch dared to strike out at us when we would have permitted her to leave, even after her failures!”

“It doesn't matter!” Sable's desperate voice cut in. “I don't care what her father did to me, she is still my child!”

“And you are of the dark coven, fool!” the robed wizard snapped. “We have made you pay in pain for your transgressions. Be thankful that your noble ties allow you redemption, where others would pay with their lives!” He turned his hot gaze to Mord. “Three score of Velheim's best, carefully smuggled in by the hidden ways, all eager to sow dissension among our enemies and strengthen our cause. All of them butchered. And only a handful of Eloquin's cursed Squires perished when my black rite should have sent a score of them spinning into darkest Shadow!”

Jess felt her chest pound with hottest fury. Her hand trembled upon the hilt of her blade.

“Jess,” Twilight hissed. “Mord plays darker games than we heretofore knew. Let him finish his gambit, so we know how best to strike!”

Words unheard by any save Jess, Mord's abrupt squeeze of her off-hand made it clear he too sensed her fury.

Mord shook his head. "No Squires perished, though half a score were injured, several quite severely, as were multiple Aspirants."

A bleak smile from the wand-wielding men. "Well there is that, at least. It's your own damned fault your Aspirants didn't pull out. And how by the wrath of our mistress did your forces get here so quickly?"

“And how did they manage to best twenty Velheim knights? Our trap was perfect!” hissed one of the other robed figures. “You yourself raised arms against our Shadow brethren. Such is forbidden!”

“Such was necessary!” Mord snapped. “I would have broken character, were I to turn tail and hide. All I could do was assure the Aspirants parted as quickly as possible, and when we sought retreat, your damn knights sought to flank and butcher us, when they should have charged Squire Neal's men! I had no choice but to fight, lest it would be me lying in a ditch with my skull caved in.”

Lips pressed into a cold line, but none of the robed figures saw fit to argue the point.

“Very well. That still doesn't answer our questions as to how this disaster unfolded.”

Mord at once flashed a bleak smile, suddenly squeezing Jess close. “You have my betrothed to thank for that, Lord Graslig. Upon finding the original woodland path laden with traps and fallen logs, it was nothing for her to use her gifts to scout out a direct route to Hyve's demesne.”

A hooked nose flared angrily at those words, even as Lord Graslig snarled. “This bitch is responsible?”

Mord chuckled softly. “Don't you see? It's perfect! Why do you think the Calenbrys are so damned prosperous? Land once considered worthless scrub, and all too easy to ignore when the Crown granted it all to an upstart baron who just happened to shine as the king's confidant, we suddenly find to be thick with rich black soil, able to host exotic herbs prized by healers grown nowhere else, and is home to the lushest apple fields in all of Erovering! The lesser lords who swore fealty to the Calenbry clan boast the most bountiful harvests of wheat, oats, and barley to be had anywhere, no matter that two generations back starvation was the bitter brew their serfs took with their slops.”

Mord's voice took an odd, lilting tone as he approached the frowning mage. Almost cajoling. Jess shuddered. It was as if Mord were trying to win them over. “It is because the blood of Druids lies in their veins. Bloodlines the Plaga clan shall soon claim for our own.”

"Bloody hells," Malek hissed, but Jess paid her friend no heed, her mind whirling with the dark implications of Mord's confession, chilled to realize just how thoroughly the Plagas had studied her family and her gifts, coming to conclusions she herself had never dared to say aloud. Never even dared to think. And the furious pulse of Mord's squeezes, battle code Jess knew all too well.

She squeezed his hand once, to make sure.

He did not hesitate to squeeze back.

Lord Graslig flashed a chilling smile. “The Calenbrys have benefited far too well for us not to suspect dark covenants had been made by Arthur himself. But if the blood of Druids does indeed flow through their veins...” He gave a thoughtful nod. “Very well, Mord. Perhaps certain transgressions this day can be forgiven, in light of the bloodlines soon to join our Shadow Council.”

Mord nodded. “Precisely. If anyone doubts, you need merely take a close look at her features.”

Heart racing, Jess allowed Mord to bring her close to the robed nobleman who stunk of carrion and foulest magics. A hooked nose took too deep a sniff, eyes alighting with a desperate hunger. “Ah yes, Mord. Your pawn does indeed show promise. She will make a fine addition to...”

His words were cut off with a sharp hiss, crimson magics crackling from his robes as Mord attempted to run him through.

To no avail.

“Fool!” Lord Graslig snarled. “Do you really think I would be the ranking necromancer of Velheim if I left myself open to treacherous vermin such as you?” Quick as a striking serpent, he lashed out with an ebony wand the mirror of Mord's own, the air crackling with magics dark and foul.

“Duck!” Jess screamed, slamming into Mord, feeling a wave of vile energies wash around them, deathly winds shrieking and howling, promising torments never ending. A horrific glimpse of foulest Hells, just a hairsbreadth away.

Graslig paled, wand hand trembling. “You should be dead. Both of you.”

Malek roared, drawing his blade and charging for the pair of wizards preparing to flank them, even as they took aim with wands of blackened bone.

“Malek!” Jess screamed, as dark bolts of energy tore through the air for her friend.

Graslig's shock turned to a furious grin. “So Mord wasn't completely lying. Very well then, let's just see how skilled you really are!”

“Jess, you know what to do!” Mord's desperate whisper as he raised his wand and addressed their foe once more. "Very well, Graslig. I can tell when I'm outmatched. Your wards would protect you from any number of sword blows, I'm sure."

“Your cheek!” her familiar hissed.

The Velheim Lord's lips wormed into the darkest parody of a smile. “Ah, Mord. 'Tis a shame you had to betray me so utterly. We could have ascended to greatness together, the bards singing our praises as Erovering crumbles and falls. Now I fear your screams shall have to suffice for our music, as I flay you alive!”

His wand jutted forward, shooting yet another wave of Abyssal horrors at Mord. Mord did not bother to counter, his wand instead pointing towards the roof, perfectly aligned above the two wizards behind Graslig, presently struggling against a horrific monstrosity of flame and shadow.

“Die, Plaga rat!” Graslig snarled, before blinking in sudden horror.

His killing spell, knocked askew.

Infernal wand falling from spasming hands, the robed lord collapsed to the ground, his face a rictus of hideous agony as Jess ran him through.

The exquisitely rendered fresco above the pair of wizards erupted in an explosion of shattered stone. Jess sensed arcane wards flickering madly before rupturing out of existence as the figures stumbled under the rain of rubble; a lone cry all that was heard before the bodies were completely still, the air now filled with choking dust.

“Malek!” Jess screamed, terrified for her friend. Yet she was no fool. Even as time became a juttering affair, flooded as she was by panic, peripheral eye catching sight of a horrified Sable, other coughing captives tortured and tied beside her, even as her eyes peered intently at the pile of rubble, looking for traces of her friend, her wrist did not hesitate to twist and tear her blade free.

Jess took fierce, dark satisfaction as the foul puppetmaster screamed and writhed against her blade.

“How...”

One word. A stinging cheek, Jess ramming her blade once more with chilling precision, her foe spasming his last as his spine was severed; vile robes once crackling with foulest magics now just rotting cloth.

“Her blood trumped your spells, fool.”

Mord's words, even as Jess raced for her friend, in that moment of heart-stopping terror utterly without care that her closest nemesis knew so very well all her close-kept secrets.

Cries of a babe, hungry and cold but otherwise unharmed, gave Jess one shudder of relief even as her eyes stung from the dust.

“Malek!”

From the pile of rubble, several pain-filled groans. Of her brother-in-arms, there was no sign.

“Mord! What the hell did you do?” She turned to glare at him, so wanting to hate. But how could she hate a man so tenderly taking up the baby that moments ago those monsters had wanted to butcher?

"Please, help me," gasped a piteous voice as the surviving wizard, spells ruptured, desperately tried to crawl out of the heap of rubble.

Two screams and he collapsed, spine severed, Jess taking dark, terrible satisfaction as he shuddered his last against her probing blade. For Master Eloquin had taught her the darkest of lessons, and she had taken to each and every one of them with relish. Above all else, she would show her enemies no mercy. Ever. Lest her kindness one day be repaid with horror, her own family perishing to an enemy's blade. Only after her foe had collapsed did she force hands trembling with terror and fury to still themselves, to clean and resheathe her strangely pitted sword -etched with her blood- looking desperately for any trace of her friend.

She found only the remains of the final wizard, savagely torn open, and not by falling rubble.

“Malek!” Jess glared at Mord, even then working to free a sobbing Sable, gazing so tenderly at the little girl now tucked safely in her exhausted arm, her own injuries all but forgotten. “What the hell did you do?”

"What did it look like?" Mord snapped. "I took a gamble! I was not expecting Graslig to be warded by magics Father has only guessed at. No wonder his clan always manage to head our Dark Council." His grin was one of dark satisfaction. "But no magic is without limits. Wards that might make a wizard akin to a god for the duration of a swordfight, not a single blow landed, will do very little against an avalanche of rubble." He favored Jess with an approving nod. "And you took point and warded, as I knew you would, running that bastard completely through. Admit it, Jess. You reveled in butchering our enemies every bit as much as I."

“I don't give a damn about that, Mord. I'm glad they're dead, but you crushed my friend!”

Mord's eyes flashed with frustrated fury. “I did exactly what had to be done. You know that! I expected your fool of a friend to dart clear. Covered in steel, he was much better protected from stonefall than they were. I did not expect him to charge them as a thing of Shadow!”

Jess flinched. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Mord smirked. “Even fighting for our skins, you saw it, Jess. You must have. Malek, whatever he was, was trying to tear out their throats.”

Jess paled and swallowed. “You're mad. Absolutely insane.”

“Jess. Please...” A trembling voice. “Carry Julia. My arm, I can't really hold her,” Sable sobbed even as Mord strove to help her up, showing a tenderness Jess never thought she'd see from the man.

Wordlessly Jess approached, even as Mord shook his head, stripping off mail hauberk and breastplate in a few well-practiced motions. "Take off your steel first, Jess. Everything except your blooded blade."

“What?” Jess gazed at Mord, unable to find the words.

“No time,” he snapped. “Those damned wizards actually managed to pull Hyve's keep into the underrealms. Think, Jess. Those men we fought. You saw what was happening to them. That was no necromancer's curse!”

Jess paled and shuddered, recalling the strange deformations upon the bodies of the slavers. Eye stalks of blood and bone, orbs of mucus and silver, alien and strange. Tendrils covered in caustic slime, sprouting from flesh, writhing upon the ground. The sense of hideous things just a breath away, eager to seep through and infect her world.

“Jess! Focus!”

Jess shuddered and nodded, shamed to be taking council from Mord, of all people.

His mail and gambeson had been sown together as one garment. Besides leggings of leather and rawhide plates, he wore only a sweat soaked undertunic outlining a powerful physique. Much to Jess's relief, his normally obsessive or hostile gaze was free of anything save brooding worry. And for this reason alone she did not hesitate to unfasten her strangely heavy breastplate and helm before slipping free her mail shirt last of all.

Mord shook his head, chuckling softly. “I always knew you were hiding things from me, but your flesh lacks even a stabilizing rune.”

She gazed at the pile of armor in horrified wonder as the steel began to hiss and bubble, the hardened rawhide alone remaining intact, save where it touched metal, rotting away to nothing before her very eyes.

Mord's fathomless gaze left her breathless. "Your will alone kept your armor from warping against your very flesh, Jess. It is a foolish explorer who dares these depths wearing anything save cuir bouilli and bronze.”

Mord flashed a bleak smile as Jess gazed down at her sword and shuddered. “A sword that's tasted your blood and sweat is one thing. But a knight's steel is a fool's gambit down here. My armor was at least protected by runes that damned Graslig ruptured. Yours, I see, was not."

Protected only by her gambeson of multilayered linen, Jess felt almost naked, for all that she knew her aketon would protect her from most sword slashes and any thrust that was not dead on. Mord, however, had only his sword to ward him from killing blows.

Jess shook away her stupor. “I don't know what you are talking about, Mord.” Even as she said those words she found herself holding a sobbing infant, unable to force herself to speak above a soothing whisper. “Where is Malek?”

“Where the hell do you think, Jess?” Mord snapped, even as Sable squeezed his arm with her one good hand. Mord held her close then, kissing a trembling Sable's forehead.

“Look, Jess,” a far calmer Mord counseled. “The rubble released was only enough to knock those two fools senseless after rupturing their wards. Not bury anyone alive. Do you see any trace of Malek? No? That's because he isn't here.”

Jess trembled. “Where the hell is he, then?”

Mord spat, temper flaring anew. “How the hell should I know? I only l know he isn't here!”

"That isn't good enough!" Sable's infant began to cry in her arms.

A soothing purr. “Fear not, mistress. Our friend did not perish here. If he had, I would know.”

Jess trembled with unexpected relief. “Thank the gods. Where is he, Twilight?”

Silence.

“Twilight?”

“I don't know, Jess. In truth, he rather surprised me. I did not realize... but yes. You two are far closer to the center of things than you have been in quite some time. It should not astonish me that virtues long dormant awaken once more.”

Sable paled at those words. Jess pretended she didn't know what that meant, exhausted and overwhelmed with all that had occurred already.

“Will he be all right?”

"I think so, my mistress. Come. It looks like Mord actually has the right idea, for once."

Jess grimaced and nodded as Mord methodically freed the panicked and sobbing captives, all of them covered in what Jess now sensed were protective runes of some sort, Mord awash in desperate gratitude as if he were the noblest of heroes.

Jess grimaced. She had a hell of a lot of questions for Mord to answer when they got back to Highrock.

“Mord, how do we get out?” Sable's frightened gazed locked upon Jess's own. Mord turned to peer back at the reinforced door the two guardsmen were pounding on even at that very moment.

Jess flashed a smile, bleak and cold. “It's made of wood. Fear not their halberds. They will not break through.” The pounding grew more panicked then abruptly stopped, replaced by shrill screams.

Mord grimaced. “Follow me. There is another exit. This keep is littered with them.”

Twilight nodded. “It's how Graslig's pawns were able to take the field and catch us unawares, my mistress. Had they dared to hide in the woods, we would have known.”

Jess flushed, struck with sudden shame. “And had I not been so quick to give my report, had I thought to extend my senses under leaf and root, perhaps I could have sensed something.”

Twilight dipped his head. “Perhaps. And if Lord Hyve had not been such a headstrong fool and had waited for my council, as Eloquin, at least, has always been prudent enough to do, you all would have avoided the ambush entirely. Of course Sable, Julia, and these other poor souls would likely be writhing in Hades by now, and the world will miss neither these diabolists nor their henchmen. All in all, things could be worse.”

Jess grimaced, still wishing that things could have gone differently, desperately anxious for her friend.

"Malek! If you are still here, follow the signs!" For all that Jess knew it could well be fruitless, she couldn't help but leave chalk signs such that a dazed and confused Malek, should he awaken with no idea of what had happened, could make his way down the winding tunnel Mord led them through, thankfully free of eerie slime and hideous abominations Jess was desperate to think about no further.

After endless moments punctuated by the desperate whimpers of men and women clearly in agony from broken bones and torn flesh, they came before a hardwood door opened with the pulling of a single lever, dropping like a clever drawbridge over a midden, and within seconds they found themselves blinking in the bright light of the midday sun.

Jess smiled, relieved beyond words as Sable organized the survivors. There had only been one point in those winding tunnels that Jess had felt herself pushing against a horrid resistance that had seemed almost intent on keeping her trapped. It had been the oddest sensation, only lasting a handful of moments, and a single nip from an irate Twilight had been the burst of pain that had shocked her through. Happily, no one else appeared to have had any trouble at all.

Perhaps it was because of the strange crimson sigils covering all of their bodies. Markings Sable was helping to wash off the panicked and grateful captives with a wine-soaked rag, stoically ignoring the no doubt throbbing pain her own damaged arm was suffering, Mord having carefully wrapped it in linen before tying it to her side.

Jess gazed intently at Mord as Sable carefully washed off the crimson markings drawn upon his flesh as well.

“You owe me a hell of an explanation, Mord. About a great number of things. How do you know so much about me? What is this... council?” Jess gazed pointedly at the exhausted former captives, saying no more than that.

Mord solemnly nodded. “You're right, I do. And I will answer any question you have for me, on one condition.”

Jess blinked, surprised to hear him speak so civilly. “And what is that?”

Cold eyes met her own. “Tell no one about what happened at that keep, only that we fought Velheim troops in league with a slaver camp, which is true enough, and managed to save a handful of captives in the bargain.”

Jess grimaced. “I'm sorry, Mord. But that depends a hell of a lot on your explanation.”

“Ware your words, Jess. A lot happened that an inexperienced practitioner might think diabolism. Tell me, are you truly so anxious to see Sable and her babe hung as witches, after going to such trouble to save them?”

Jess lurched back, sickened, still tenderly holding little Julia in her arms.

Sable paled. “Please, Jess. I beg of you...”

Jess shook her head in furious negation. “Of course not! Look, I, gods damn it all, Mord, just what are you up to?”

"The only thing I'm up to is saving my sister! And if you truly gave a damn about anyone save yourself, you would put her safety above questions that could get her killed." Mord's cold gaze bore into her own. "Is that what you want, Jess? Do you despise me so much, even as we fought against horrors back to back, that you would see Sable screaming as she was led to the headsman's block? Poor little Julia thrown to the wolves? All because some damn diabolists sought to kill her, and we had to play their own game against them, as sly as any King's Agent?"

Sable gasped at those words and little Julia, sensing the change in mood, perhaps, suddenly burst into tears.

"Please," Sable begged. "Please, be careful of what you say or write down! Guilt by association could doom us, Jess. If the wrong people get ahold of reports easily misconstrued? We will all be put in peril."

Jess gave an unhappy nod, though her reservations were soothed by the look of naked gratitude Sable flashed her. She had sensed no deception, not a trace of malice in Mord's eyes. Any questions she had, she would ask him on the morrow. Yet if he thought she would write nothing at all down after all that had happened, he was a bigger fool than the diabolists they had cut down. For Sable's sake, she would leave certain key secrets out. But writing could wait, for the moment.

Julia cooed in Jess's arms and she had to fight back tears as her face lit up with a smile, feeling a ray of beautiful hope wash away the horrors she had endured that day.

“What about Malek, Mord? What about my brother-in-arms?”

A comforting paw upon her cheek. “I don't doubt that you would Delve into Hell itself to save him. I promise you this, my mistress, he lives. I don't know what shape he will be in when he comes to, but he lives. Were it otherwise, you would not even remember him.”

Mord's words echoed her familiar's. “Don't worry, Jess. That you remember him tells us all that he is alive.”

Jess's gaze turned hard. “If that's how it works, I should have already forgotten about all the horrors we had faced.”

Mord gave a slow shake of his head. “They had aligned themselves to the darkness. Those abominations we fought, blind sheep following a master no doubt filling their ears with lies, conflating the twisted alienation of their souls with the mistress's gift, until they became so infected with Shadow's taint that their human forms were but convenient masks for the pulsating strangeness that lay within.”

Mord shrugged. “It is the plight of anyone who dares Shadow without the mistress's markings. A rare few can master the taint, thriving upon it, spouting their delusions to sycophantic bards before sleeping for days on end. Yet for the naive fools so desperate for glory who dare to read the survivor's tales and chase those dreams of madness, what do they discover? Death, Jess. Of those few who can even spot the twisted paths, most of them find only death waiting for them. For either you are a rare parasite that can feed upon Shadow, or Shadow feeds upon you.”

Jess shivered, focusing only on comforting the infant in her arms, trying to forget the odd frisson of energy that had been coursing through her in that place, hoping she hadn't been infected by whatever horror had warped the men she had fought in Hyve's keep, even as Mord spoke on.

“Graslig and his pathetic lick-boots actually thought themselves in control, immune from the taint, believing that the sigils they wore would let them live inside the rupture indefinitely. Pathetic fools. Memory of them won't disappear from the world until the rift itself fades, which it eventually will, with no further sacrifices to feed the rupture.”

Jess shook her head. “The keep is a place of horrors. I understand that. But when we get back, I want answers.”

Mord's gaze was unreadable. “Very well, Jess, but hold to your promise.”

Jess grimaced, knowing such was easier said than done.

12

Ice-blue eyes froze her to the spot, demanding answers.

“Tell me again what happened, Calenbry. Most particularly about how you and Mord rescued these prisoners who uniformly swear that they remember... nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Jess frowned at that, having heard promises of silver for those who held their tongue, and a slit throat for those who did not. Very much like the old Mord she knew so very well. But with Sable and her daughter's lives on the line, she really didn't blame Mord, particularly as those captives would be dead already, had Jess and her companions not intervened. The first lesson any serf learned, after all, was deference to their betters, particularly when a lord had gone out of his way to do them a good turn.

“They were held captive by agents of Velheim.” All true, though the ringleader happened to be a practitioner of foulest magics, the entire keep trapped in a place eerie and strange. “Mord tried to negotiate for everyone's life, and when we got close enough, I ran the ringleader through.” Also technically true. Though of hideous arachnid beasts lurking in darkest shadow, or bodies warped by madness and something far worse, she said not a word.

Eloquin flashed a bleak smile. “You performed extremely well this day, Calenbry. Your tactics were incredibly foolish, three of you charging twenty Velheim knights head on, when you should have simply harried them, picking them off piecemeal. If you had miscalculated, if Hyve had lacked the will to charge into the knights you had pinned in place, but seconds from overwhelming you...”

“There was no time, master, you and the others-”

“- I know!” Eloquin snapped, eyes blazing. “More the fool I, not to have expected necromancers in play.”

“Master Eloquin, no one could have expected a necromancer's tricks. We have never encountered the like on any of our other missions.”

“That we haven't didn't mean it was beyond the scope of possibility, Calenbry, as we have seen for ourselves firsthand.”

Jess nodded ruefully at that.

Twilight tisked. "Our poor general is out of sorts. As much as he is a master of all things martial, upon the living world alone does his province extend. The seasons have no place in Shadow, and Shadow's tactics alone he cannot fully comprehend."

Jess swallowed, chilled by her familiar's words.

Eloquin sighed. “You pulled triumph from the maw of tragedy, even if it was luck as much as skill that saved you, so I will overlook your lies for today, Calenbry. Now find whatever words you seek, but when next we speak, I expect a full accounting!”

Jess swallowed, at a complete loss for words.

“I know what it means when a soldier takes off his steel, girl. I expect you to have written out the account of this day before your head hits your pillows. Are we clear?”

Jess felt her cheeks blaze with those words, yet she had the discipline to meet his gaze and flinch not at all as tightly rolled papyrus and arcane quill were slipped into her hand, peripheral vision detecting no one looking their way as she discretely slipped it into her pouch.

Jess felt the pat of her familiar's paw against her throbbing cheek. “Now is when you bow your head and walk away, Jess.”

Jess grimaced and did just that, more relieved than words could say to mount a restive Mercy once more, comforted by Twilight's smug smile.

“Twilight?”

“I forget, sometimes, how fast he can travel when he is in a mood.”

Jess blinked at this.

“Do not worry about Malek, my mistress. I have no doubt that when you next awaken from slumber, our brother will be by your side once more.”

Jess shuddered with relief. “Twilight, are you sure?”

Her familiar just shrugged. “He has never let me down before.”

And with those words Jess led the way back through woodland paths only she could seem to find, their band of three score students making good time despite their injured, former captives mounted upon seized mounts sobbing their relief, Jess tuning out Mord's boasting as the surviving Aspirants heaped him with praise.

Jess grinned as her fellow Squires did the same for her, Lucas himself clapping her shoulder and dipping his head. "You're the most headstrong girl I've ever known, Jess, and I'm damned glad to have fought by your side once more." He shook his head ruefully. "I thought we were dead for sure. Then you three had the mad idea to charge that band of knights, and it actually worked!" Lucas's gaze turned strangely solemn, grateful and reproving at once. "I'm a battlemage, Jess, so I won't even ask what foul magics you learned that let you foil a necromancer's trap. You saved my life, so far as I'm concerned, it was an angel's blessing, and I will take that with me to the grave." He chuckled ruefully. "Then you just had to add another notch of glory to your belt, daring the keep itself, when I would have bet money those screams were just another trap. The Goddess herself must favor you." He frowned even as Jess beamed at the praise. “Speaking of which, where is Malek?”

Jess swallowed and looked away, not knowing what to say.

“Bullocks. I'm sorry, Jess.”

Jess shook her head. “It will be okay, Lucas. Somehow, I'm sure he'll be back by our side before we know it. How is Liam?”

Lucas sighed. “Liam was hurt, Jess. Bad. He got thrown from his mount, right onto those bear traps. It's been a crazy day, but maybe, just maybe, if we can get him to the healers in time, they can save him.”

Jess swallowed, suddenly ashamed. “And you guys held back, because of us three.”

Lucas shrugged. "You weren't gone that long, an hour at most, and you did pull out a handful of survivors, even a noble lady and her child." He chuckled ruefully. "Besides, without your knack? We'd have to loop right around to Hyve's main property, clear as day before the entire world, our cover completely blown, tacking on an extra day to our journey before we can get Liam back to a proper Highrock healer, because no one else can find these bloody paths through the woods that come to you as clear as day."

Jess grimaced. “Spread no rumors about Sable, Lucas. Or her child. She seeks asylum, and the less people know about her, the better.”

Lucas frowned, dipping his head. “I'll make sure everyone knows to forget.” He flashed a bleak smile. “We're Squires, Jess. Forgetting the horrors we see and do is just part of the job. Now do you want to tell me why you're just wearing your gambeson?”

Her gaze turned apologetic. “Trust me, Liam, whatever story you make up for our friends is saner than the truth.”

Lucas shrugged. “Fair enough. Well, thanks for saving our hides.”

Jess smiled as her friend eased back into formation, delighting in being surrounded by lush foliage once more that seemed to open up into the grandest of corridors just when she needed it to. Jess felt strangely at peace, hypnotized by the soothing susurrations of branch and leaf. But she felt the weight of one last task and Eloquin's gaze upon her.

It was all she could do to focus and take the lead, Eloquin by her side, whispering softly to herself as she scribbled away, only praying she could understand what she had written when she glanced at it later, marking the back of her wrist so she would remember she had written the note. Of course, that assumed she would somehow forget the horror and savagery of that awful night, which Jess secretly thought unlikely.

Once they were back upon the main road, Jess found herself slipping into oddest reverie, ignoring the murmurs of students swearing that the passage behind them had closed back into impenetrable deepwood the moment they left. Sinking ever deeper into a gentle waking doze, hours seemed to pass by in moments, Jess lost in the endless motion of Mercy's gentle stride.

She was startled when she found herself jostled by none other than an intent looking Mord once they were before the Highrock stables once more.

“Don't fall asleep yet, Jess. It's dangerous to do that anywhere but in a bed you know well, after daring what we have tonight."

Jess smirked. "I'll be fine, Mord." Jess cracked a fierce yawn, surprised to find herself utterly exhausted, when normally she was all but bursting with manic energy after one of Eloquin's missions. She frowned at Mord, the intent way he was staring at her. "Why don't you go off to the revels, Mord? You know half the school will be there, eager to lose themselves in the arms of Highrock's deadly assassins before turning back into proper prudes once the revels are over."

A powerful hand clasped her own. "Come, Jess. Let the stablehands see to Mercy. You're exhausted. Let's get you to bed."

Jess frowned, slipping her hand free of Mord's own, but slowly, reluctant to antagonize him after fighting by his side. It was a strange thing, but they often struck an unspoken truce after blackening their daggers, their enmity not flaring until the victory celebrations had ended days later, and all was as it had been once more.

When Mord just shrugged and offered to escort her back to her quarters lest she collapse in the halls, she did not resist, too tired to think of a diplomatic way to turn down his offer, though she found reason enough to regret her decision as they approached the fine oaken door to her quarters.

A powerful hand stroked her cheek, even as another caressed her waist, Mord's dark eyes fastening upon her.

She frowned, and tried to gently push him back.

He was having none of it, his concern of before but a facade, his voice guttural with need. "You've teased me for too damn long, Jess. Goading me at every turn, pretending you hate me when I know how you hunger for my touch. Hunger to be dominated."

His hand slowly clenched a handful of her hair, Jess still wide-eyed with shock. "It is time for you to stop denying your fate! We are betrothed already, by our fathers' will. It is every man's right to embrace his future wife, and I will claim you, Jess. I will claim your heart, your body, your soul!"

His hot breath caressed her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her, and Jess froze for an awful moment of horrified confusion.

"Back off, Mord!" Jess shouted, her choking weariness leaving in a hot burst of rage spiked with fear, pressing fingers and thumb upon the soft spots of his wrist and hand before abruptly twisting and spinning around, Mord suddenly snarling and lurching back, rubbing his wrist.

Mord's nostril's flared, coal dark eyes glaring at her with a twisted mix of hunger and hate. "Always playing your games, Jess. Always taunting!"

Jess snarled, stepping back, her palm pressing against her door, which gently opened at her touch.

Even as Mord closed, Jess pinned him with her glare. "Tonight, my nemesis, we fought as one on the field of war. Are you really going to sully that, raping someone who killed to save you? Risked her own life to save your sister? Your niece?"

Mord stopped cold, face an odd mixture of fury and disgust, though she knew not if it was towards her or himself.

Even as her heart raced, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

Mord shook his head and chuckled softly. "You flatter yourself. A dozen girls await my touch at the revels. I wouldn't demean my honor taking someone who didn't appreciate the prize before them." He sneered and spat. "I thought at last that you were wise enough to appreciate the one man at this school worthy of being your master. I see now that I was wrong."

He turned on his heels and walked away.

Twilight, strangely silent the entire time, nodded once in approval. "You fended him off without having to kill him. A good thing, really. It's always bad form to kill a man who had fought by your side only hours before."

Jess smiled even as she shook, trembling with the aftereffects of battle all too viscerally remembered, on top of an exhaustion unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

She stumbled into her room, sensing her door closing firmly behind her, hardly aware of the interval between gazing at her bed and falling under its luxurious covers, free of boots and gambeson, wearing only a cotton slip, and never had she felt such wonderful release as she did at that moment, head sinking into soft feather pillows, when a sudden niggling thought pricked her tired mind.

Mord had always been an ass, and she despised him, but she couldn't deny that he had a certain twisted sense of honor. And when his eyes had flashed and he had approached her a second time, there had been no real ire in his gaze. No hate.

Jess hissed, suddenly wondering if Hyve's students embraced agent's lessons as well, suddenly dreadfully certain she would find no trace of her report in her pouch.

Mord's goal hadn't been to take her by force. It had been to distract her, so she wouldn't even think to check her pouch until it was too late, or wonder why his hands had been at her waist in the first place.

She groaned, realizing she would have to write her report all over again. So many bloody questions for that man to answer, and she would not allow him to outmaneuver her this easily.

She tried to force her weary body to rise once more, but she was already asleep.

13

Jess found herself lost in the gentlest of dreams, running through vast fields brilliant with wildflowers, the sweet scents of jasmine and honeysuckle wafting through the air, Malek by her side, barking with excitement. Jess gazed intently at the wolf who towered as vast as the cloudy heavens even as he comfortably leaned against her, the perfect height for her to pat with gentlest affection.

A soft frown of confusion pursed rosebud lips, even as she allowed herself to be soothed by the gentle sounds of laughter and play from the fields behind her.

Jess shook her head even as Malek gently licked her cheeks.

“Silly dog,” she said. “What does all this mean, Twilight?”

The sapphire-eyed cat perched upon her shoulder flashed the strangest of smiles. “It means it's time to wake up, my queen.”

And she did.

“Malek!” The first word a sleepy Jess uttered, blinking about in sudden confusion. Wasn't she supposed to be doing something? Jess frowned, shaking her head, before grimacing at the sudden visceral memory of couched spears plunging into living flesh, the feel of fiercely held mace pounding with frenzied abandon.

Reveling in the horror she wrought, taking unholy delight in blood spilled, lives cleaved from all who dared oppose her.

Jess shuddered and shook those memories away, glad they were already scattered and indistinct. Yet for all that the events were lost in fog, her hands remembered all too well the feel of a killing blow.

“Bloody hells,” she hissed, before lurching for her door, thinking only to grab a robe before dashing outside, suddenly terrified for her closest friend in all the world. “Malek!”

Then her eyes skipped across the mark on her wrist. She shivered, having no memory of putting it there, but the message was clear.

Her eyes darted down to her pile of sweat-stained clothes and padded gambeson presently reeking of blood and death. She pinched shut her nose and found her belt pouch in the heart of the pile, opening it with trembling hands, desperate to see if she had left herself a clue as to what had happened.

She gave a frustrated curse and threw the pouch down, heedless of the coppers that spilled from it. Of any notes, there was no trace, leaving her more desperate than ever to assure that her shieldbrother was safe.

Jess managed to ignore the wide-eyed stares of students as she dashed from her quarters, all caught off guard by her presence save for Mord himself, in the flesh and perfectly attired in doublet and hose of deepest blue, gazing at her with features exquisitely handsome, and eyes inhumanly cold.

His lips quirked into the cruelest of grins.

“I see my prize has awoken.”

Snickers then from none other than Mord's two favorite hangers-on; small and wiry Erno de Vilde, gazing at Jess like a prize mare he was eager to break, and Vaki de Slaktare, his satin doublet stretched near to bursting, tongue caressing bulbous lips, as if Jess was a tasty victual he would happily devour.

“She's not even wearing her uniform, Mord,” Erno smirked. “Just her robe.”

Vaki chuckled. “No doubt she finally recognizes her place here at school, and is eager to fly to your quarters, knowing a robe is all she will ever need to wear, as she worships her master.”

And with those words Vaki cried out and stumbled back, clutching a nose suddenly spurting blood. “You bitch!” he hissed, glaring daggers at Jess who felt a fool for having left her quarters in such a hurry, now being stared at by these bastards like a piece of meat, enjoying the fierce sting of her fist crushing her enemy's nose.

Vaki withdrew his wand. “I'll make you pay for that, whore!”

Before crying out a second time, Mord's hand having rocked out, shoving his friend with surprising force against the far corridor wall. The fat boy bounced to his rear, cursing and sputtering, wand dropped, even as Erno smirked down at him, adroitly snatching up the boy's wand. “Don't be an idiot, Vaki. Jess is Mord's.”

Mord's icy gaze was strangely intent. “Jess?”

“Bloody hells, Mord, I don't need this right now! If you won't face me in the ring, then stay out of my way!” Jess glared at a snarling Vaki, heart roaring with sudden sweet fury. “Or you could challenge me, you pustulent sack of filth. With blade or wand, I will take you and happily run you through!”

Vaki paled and spat, glaring at Jess sullenly as he stumbled to his feet, brushing himself off. “I'll leave you to your toy, Mord. Best you see to that mouth of hers!” He yanked his wand back from Erno, grumbling curses as he left.

Mord shook his head. “It's a crutch, you know. Potent as he is, he can't aim for squat without a focus. A real wizard needs no such crutch.” He smiled then. “Of course, wands make excellent receptacles for enchantments, should one ever come across such a treasure, as our dear dean himself has, or so rumor holds.”

Jess frowned. “You know an awful lot about wands, Mord, for someone no better at magic than I.”

"At least he didn't make an ass of himself spouting tripe about seeing spellweaves, only to be laughed out of her first-year class," Erno mocked. "I see you make no such claims now."

Mord's measuring gaze crawled over Jess from head to toe. She backed away, glaring at his mocking smile.

“You really don't remember, then? None of it?”

Jess frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

A cocky smile Jess wanted to smack off his face. "Nothing you need worry about, my future prize. All you need know is that we baptized ourselves in darkest glory, reveling in the death of our enemies, before you surrendered to sweetest rapture as I mastered you endlessly through the night.”

Jess blinked, speechless at the audacity of Mord's words.

"We did no such thing. I would know if we had!"

His hungry gaze twisted into a possessive glare, Mord instantly before her, squeezing her shoulders tight with inhuman strength.

“It is only a matter of time before that will be exactly our fate. I will claim you, Jessica de Calenbry. Body and soul.”

“Mord. Back off. Now.” Jess hoped she hid the tremble she felt in her voice.

“One day, I will make you mine.” His intent squeeze turned painful. “One day you will submit, and call me master!”

“Mord, let go now!” Terror mixed with sudden fury, and just like that, Mord was feet away, mocking grin upon his lips once more.

“If you ever touch me again, I'll kill you!”

Mord laughed. "Yet by your clan's own promise you will be presented before me in a gown of white, trembling for my touch. Enjoy your time at Highrock, my little dove. Soon enough I shall be putting you in your golden cage, and then you shall have no choice but to sing for me."

Mord's voice carried, Erno not the only student to witness his declaration, a handful of their peers turning the corner at that very instant. The slightest titter of startled laughter, knowing smiles from several students turning their way. Jess flushed furiously and darted down the corridor, more eager than she had ever been to escape to Malek's quarters, her bastion against awkward stares and Mord's constant mockery.

14

Sympathetic eyes locked with Jess's own as Malek held her close.

"By all the gods, I'm just glad you're safe, Malek. And here I am blathering on about Mord."

Jacob, Malek's lithe lover, gazed at Jess unperturbed from the corner of the grand hardwood bed that took up the center of Malek's comfortable quarters. “Mord's a right bastard, Jess. Don't pay his words any mind. No one else does.”

Malek nodded his agreement. “Jacob's right, you know. What matters is that we are all safe. When I woke up, the first thing I did was look for you. And when Eloquin said you had gone to quarters but weren't opening your door for anyone, well, I feared the worst.” Malek frowned and shook his head. “I should have been right there, waiting for you.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “As if wearing away the flagstones with your pacing would have done anyone any good. It was Eloquin himself who told you to quit terrifying our peers and take your ease in private.”

Jess quirked an eyebrow at that. Malek grinned. “Let's just say that perhaps I glared at a few students, and the boy who called me a catamite found himself dangling out the nearest window.”

“But Malek, you are a catamite,” Jacob teased. “As I should well know, being several months older than you, and you but a babe in the woods when I first... corrupted you.”

Malek chuckled at that. “For you alone, lover, for you alone.”

Jess smirked. “It's a good thing we're not that high up. Soft loamy dirt below, your detractor should survive the fall with no more than a few bruises, a broken bone at most.”

Malek rolled his eyes. “No doubt his father sent mine a scathing letter reaffirming my status as the black sheep of the family. Good thing I don't give a fig for Father's opinion, as I haven't talked to that monster for years.”

Jacob gave a fond shake of his head. “Yes, but that glass was priceless, dear, and Eloquin had you running for hours.”

Malek shrugged. “In truth, I'm glad he did. Even when Eloquin destroyed me in weapons practice, constantly throwing questions about our last mission that, for the life of me, I just couldn't answer. Threw me completely out of my form. At least he credited me with some improvement, and when all was said and done, I felt better than I had since I first woke up.”

Jess frowned. “How long was I asleep? A single night, right?”

Malek grimaced. “It's been three days, Jess. That's why you're so thirsty, I imagine, having drunk down all my summer wine the moment you entered.”

Jess flushed at that. “It's that bastard Mord's fault. The things he said...”

Jacob smiled. “And you also have a weakness for wine.”

Jess grinned back. “True.” Her expression turned solemn. “Mord seemed to imply that, well, you know.” She gazed almost apologetically at Jacob, who sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Of course I know about General Eloquin grooming you all to be the king's blackened daggers. Everyone knows. Do we really need to bother with silly pretexts?"

Jess flushed and looked away.

“Jacob, that was unworthy.”

“I'm sorry, Malek, but no boy keeps his mouth shut, bragging to whichever girl catches his fancy at the feasts Eloquin and Hyve hold for you all after your missions. Girls melt for deadly assassins, particularly in this academy full of future battlemages and commanders, so everyone has a good time, and if Eloquin thinks his secrets are being kept for more than five minutes after he leaves, he's a bigger fool than any master tactician has a right to be.”

Jess flushed, realizing Jacob was probably right. The days after a mission was successfully completed and the revels were embraced would be a delightful blur, and Jess could only imagine the wild tales her peers would share with admiring lovers, all of them taking full advantage of Crown leave to carouse without scorn or censure for a full week. Their actions during that time were never spoken of aloud by anyone, professors paying no mind to their absence, just as if they really had been knights back from crusade. It was the one time Jacob and Malek dared to love openly for the world to see, and no one would say a word.

Jess flushed. “I guess I only have myself to blame, really.”

Malek sighed. "Mord is a loathsome toad. Jacob made it clear you hadn't even attended the revels, and Mord clearly had. Spreading rumors that you two had consummated your nonexistent relationship is just his way of pushing back any competition. He's the same jackanapes he always was, no better, no worse. So let us stop worrying about poor Mord, and focus on more important things." He squeezed Jess tightly to him. "Don't worry, shieldsister. I got your back. When I'm around, he hardly bothers us at all."

Jess nodded. “But the things he said. As if, well, as if we had fought as battlebrothers, side by side.

Malek shrugged. "He's one of the few Knight Aspirants who actually answers the King's Call, not afraid to blacken his dagger by our side. It's why I haven't tried to kill him in earnest. During those times alone, I would trust him with my life." Malek sighed. "I'd try to make peace with him for all that I can't stand him, if it weren't for his treatment of you."

Jess locked gazes with her closest friend. “Malek? I haven't had the heart to ask before now, but did we lose anyone?”

Her heart lurched with sudden dread as he sighed, before giving a reassuring shake of his head. “We were lucky, Jess. We lost no one, but the Aspirants weren't so lucky. Their newest recruit lost his life, thank the gods the others were spared.”

Jess grimaced, closing her eyes, saddened that a fellow student had fallen, grateful beyond words that it was not one of her beloved band of Squires, that it wasn't someone she knew.

“Though poor Liam is much the worse for ware, I'm afraid.”

Jess felt her stomach lurch before Malek's serious gaze before it lightened into a smile. “Yet for all that, he is stable, and has been enjoying the company of a certain young lady.”

Jess blinked. “Really.”

Malek grinned. “Sable de Plaga, of all people.”

Jess flushed in memory of a certain girl's smile. “Sable? She seemed a beautiful girl, but, well...”

“A bit too jaded and cynical for an idealist like Liam? I would have thought the same myself, but seeing is believing.”

Jess smiled. “I guess I'll have to go pay the Healers Wing a visit with a fresh stock of herbs.”

Jacob flashed a jaded grin. “You do that, darling Jess. Feed those pedantic busybodies all the herbs they can stand, while I feed Malek here his favorite herb.”

Jess smirked as Malek chuckled throatily, pinning his lover in bedding before slowly bending down for a kiss.

“I will leave you two to it then.” Smiling fondly as she softly shut their door, Jess turned to her familiar, padding comfortably by her side.

“To the gardens?”

Twilight nodded. “Why not? Perhaps there is a mouse or two that needs chasing. And the sun always does feel particularly delightful in the heart of your sanctuary, shining down upon my fur just right for a nice little nap.”

Jess gave a puzzled little frown at her familiar's choice of words but shrugged it off, changing into a proper Highrock uniform back in her quarters before heading to the rooftop garden, having had enough of the knowing smiles sent her way from the wealthier students living in the same wing she did, racing from their private quarters off to the classes held throughout the vast keep they all called home.

15

Skipping up the ancient staircase that shimmered like finest marble that most students didn't seem to note any more than they did her quietly grinning familiar, Jess gently pressed upon the exotic hardwood door before her, fingers caressing the exquisite, life-like oak engraved upon its surface as the door effortlessly opened at her touch.

Jess took a deep breath as the breeze ruffled her ebony tresses, presently free of all bows and braids though still tinted with the dye of ground bark and crushed berries she had immersed it in what seemed a lifetime ago. She shook away all brooding thoughts and instead enjoyed the sweet scents of an endless sea of flowers, gazing out at all the thriving blossoms and cuttings she had nurtured these last few years in Highrock’s beautiful rooftop garden, thriving under her care. Of course that term hardly did it justice, she thought, gazing fondly across the vast roof of the massive central fortress of the martial academy that had been carved out of the rock face of the mountain their institution had been named for, centuries ago.

The sun's golden rays danced warmly upon Jess's skin, leaving her comfortable despite the nip in the breeze as she gently harvested various herbs in the college garden at the behest of the Healers Wing. The peppermint leaves emitted a sharp yet soothing minty freshness as she gently pinched them from their shaded pots, their feisty roots well-contained to keep them from overrunning the garden.

Jess smiled warmly as she gazed at Louise, daughter of Lady Vaila, head herbalist here at the college, racing to her side with a fierce hug to Jess's legs before doing her best to assist Jess in plucking the peppermint, pinching the leaves free and careful not to break the stems. The child’s lustrous ebony locks, light bronze complexion, and heart shaped features would one day see her garden full of suitors, Jess had no doubt, despite the fact that Lady Vaila claimed no husband, a fact that mattered far less here at the college than it would most other places. Besides, Jess saw the echo of Louise's features in the face of the man whose praise was as precious to her as gold.

Louise turned to Jess, her deep brown eyes filled with genuine concern. “What’s wrong, Jessie? You’ve been sad since you came to visit us. I think the peppermint is wilting because you are unhappy.”

Jess chuckled softly. “I'm okay, Louise. I just have a lot on my mind. And may I say you are doing a wonderful job of pinching free the leaves without damaging the stalks.”

Louise nodded, features filled with happy pride. “Mother teaches me when you aren’t here, and she says I will make a wonderful herbalist. When she retires, I’m going to take her place.” The young child nodded to herself as if this was a given, and Jess couldn’t help but smile at the little one’s utter certainty. “But you can stay and help me, if you want. Mother says you are the best of all the students at tending to the gardens.”

Jess laughed at this, giving the girl an affectionate hug, feeling Louise sigh happily in her arms. “I love you, Jess.”

Jess blinked, surprised and touched by Louise’s confession. “I love you as well, little one,” Jess replied, feeling a shiver of awe at how deeply she meant it, sharing a warm smile with the girl who made her wonder if perhaps there was something to the motherhood thing after all.

All cares and worries temporarily forgotten, Jess and little Louise lost themselves in the simple pleasures of caring for the grand Highrock garden, its finicky herbs in need of constant tending, for all that most of the staff jokingly referred to it as being under Jess’s green thumb.

Jess smiled at the antics of her ebony cat whose glossy coat shimmered in the sunlight as he darted madly through the garden. Stalking some terrified mouse, Jess had no doubt, though for some odd reason he never actually killed the poor things, playfully batting them around before letting them go.

All of her well-nurtured plants blossomed, Jess was happy to find, well attentive as she was to the needs of the hungry herbs demanding moist soil and cooling shade to truly bloom to their fullest. Automatically, she ticked off in her mind the healing properties of all the herbs she was gathering for the Healers Wing that day, instructing Louise as they worked.

Louise smiled, with quick responses for all of Jess's gentle questions. “The peppermint leaves help to soothe a bilious belly, whether it be from sickness, the sea, or a growing baby. The elderberries help treat colds and lung sickness, and the hawthorn fruits are tasty and can be used in Mother's extracts to strengthen the heart, right Jessie?”

Jess nodded. “That is correct, Louise. And hawthorn leaves make a fine tea. But you must spit out the seeds if you eat the fruit, as they are not good for you, just as we strain them out when we make hawthorn jam.”

Louise nodded enthusiastically. “I love Mother's fruit preserves. They are all so tart and sweet, and so delicious on morning bread!”

“Your mother does make wonderful preserves,” Jess agreed, impressed by her little helper as Louise continued to recite the medicinal merits of the herbs they had plucked that day with near rote perfection. Feeling strangely at peace, Jess made her way back to the entrance of the garden, receiving a friendly wave from Lady Vaila as Louise raced into her mother's arms. Jess stroked the branches of the nearby bushes in silent thanks, and fancied she could feel the wind tickling their leaves in a rustling gesture of farewell.

“Guess what, Mother? Jessie was teaching me about herbs today!”

Vaila laughed indulgently, kissing her daughter’s brow. “Wonderful news, my daughter. We could hardly ask for a better teacher than our dear Jessie, now could we?”

Her daughter solemnly shook her head, causing Vaila and Jess to smile in unison, for all that the head herbalist's gentle gaze sometimes left Jess feeling like a favored specimen in need of a good pruning.

“Good day to you, my dear Jessica. It is kind of you to allow my Louise to accompany you on your harvests. I know she loves learning from you.” She smiled warmly at Jess, dutifully admiring her small harvest of perfectly clipped and plucked herbs, each gathered at the absolute peak of potency. “You truly have a way with our garden, dear Jess. I swear, our plants have never been happier or healthier since you’ve begun your ministrations here, and our healers swear their extracts and tinctures have never been as potent as they are now. One day I do hope you’ll share your secret with me.” Vaila chuckled lightly, but Jess knew she spoke in deadly earnest.

Jess looked down somewhat shyly and shrugged her shoulders. “The plants just need to be nurtured, Lady Vaila. Sometimes they are hungry for the right soils. More loam, more compost, needing it a bit dryer, or a bit more moisture by the roots. When you get a feel for what the plant wants, and it senses your ministrations, then it will be happy to blossom to its full potential for you.”

Louise nodded solemnly. “Jessie talks to the plants, Mother, and they tell her what they need.”

Jess blushed at this. “I don’t know if I’d precisely put it that way.”

Vaila simply chuckled. “A wonderful tale, my daughter. And do the plants talk back to her?”

Louise nodded, earning a surprised gaze from her mother. “But only Jess can hear them.” Vaila’s quiet alarm transformed at once into an indulgent smile.

“Well, that’s all right then. We’ll leave talking to plants to our dear Jessie. It is for you and I to study them the other way.”

Louise sighed, her beautiful features looking suddenly crestfallen. “You mean we have to read about them again?”

Her mother nodded solemnly. “Indeed we do, my dear. For unless we are blessed with the gift of speaking to our charges, it is the only way that we can learn how best to care for them, and it is the only way we can preserve our knowledge for the next generation. Now how about you go back to our quarters, and I shall let you pick out the books on plant lore that we will practice reading together?”

Louise smiled and nodded, immediately looking on the bright side of things. “Yes, Mother. Can we read in the garden? I’ll be right back!”

Dark brown hair framing a face far younger than her years, Vaila gazed fondly after her daughter for a few moments before turning to peer at a suddenly self-conscious Jess. “Few people can sense so acutely the needs of plant life quite so well as you, dearest Jessica. The college would be well served, should one with your talents choose to dedicate herself fully to the herbalist's tradition."

Hauntingly beautiful eyes sparkling like dewdrops pinned Jess where she stood. "And dare I say it, Jessica, I think you would be far happier nurturing Spring's gentle blossoms than Autumn's deadly harvest."

Heart racing, Jess shuddered at those words, stumbling back.

The gentle herbalist seemed at that moment more a force of nature than the beautiful woman who took such care of their rooftop sanctuary.

Jess shuddered and looked away, breathless, feeling a gentle hand squeeze her own.

"I startled you, Jess. I'm sorry."

Jess swallowed, and laughed the awkward moment away, wondering what had given her such a fright. Vailia was the gentlest, sweetest professor working at the college, one who didn't begrudge Jess her difficulties with reading tomes and texts, happy to let her nurture Vaila's prized garden in her own way, the fruits of Jess's labors now plain for all to see, for all that few dared the rooftop garden.

Of course, a degree in herbalism would please her parents to no end.

Her father would be all too happy to have his nicely thought out plan for her destiny backed by the college’s assessment, a wonderful pretext to formally place the apple groves and gardens under her care the moment she returned home. Trapped in a vice of expectation, the ever-growing obligations and demands of family and duty would only increase their hold upon her once she took that first step down her expected life path, and before long all hopes of living fierce and free would be relegated to the wildest of dreams.

The very thought made Jess suddenly nauseous, her feelings so overt that Lady Vaila's gaze filled with sudden concern.

“My dear Jess, are you quite all right, child? Why don't you sit down right here, and I shall make you and I some tea, and we can talk about whatever ails you.”

“Oh no need for that, Lady Vaila,” Jess quickly assured. “I had best be on my way so that our healers can access these cuttings at the peak of potency.”

With a respectful curtsy, Jess turned about, quickly making herself scarce before the all too perceptive Vaila could ask too many probing questions.

For all that he had been intently chasing mice within the garden but seconds ago, Twilight was by her side as she turned the handle of the thick oaken door, expertly slipping past her as she entered the building proper. Jess hardly felt it when he leaped to her shoulder, smiling somewhat distractedly as he rubbed his cheek against her own, purring softly. She was well used to him settling comfortably upon his favorite perch as naturally as any hunting falcon, his sapphire gaze examining the world around him as carefully as any bird of prey.

Jess sighed as she made her way through the back corridors bustling with cook's helpers and servants, many giving her a friendly nod, more comfortable with her than they were with most students, Jess treating them with the same warm familiarity she did all her family's retainers.

The cat upon her shoulder suddenly leaned over, tilting his sapphire eyes to meet her own. “You are woolgathering, Jess. Have a care. You almost tripped over that poor little servitor carrying that crock of rather tasty looking fish stew. Do you think he’d mind if I helped lighten his load a bit?”

Jess grimaced an apology at the startled young boy who had almost dowsed himself in spilled stew, realizing that she had indeed been woolgathering, her mind darting back to those early days when she had been so enamored at the thought of attending Highrock. She had been so excited when she had first wheedled permission to go to the College, following in the footsteps of her father before her, finding no shame in how easy she had always found it to bat her eyelashes and win him over with sweet words and fond hugs, using rhetoric and logic when all else failed.

It was why she was able to come to the school fully trained as a squire, competent with sword and buckler, grappling, archery, and horse spear, though her true love was the longsword. She felt far more comfortable fully kitted in breastplate, brigandine, and mail armor, the province of knighted soldiers and nobles of war, than she ever had in a fine lady's dress, which frustrated her mother to no end.

Fascinated by tales of legendary battles between paladins and the forces of evil, tied as they were to the mythical beginnings of their realm, as well as adoring the tapestries lining her father's hall, so man of them depicting great and bloody battles, Jess had long ago managed to wheedle her brother Geoffrey's knighted instructor into giving her instruction, and before long what had been a moment's exasperated indulgence turned to genuine interest. Her strength and speed, unusual in a twelve-year-old girl, had earned his respect, but most of all he commended her sense of tactics and willingness to push herself, virtues that he had solemnly assured his young student were absolutely vital in the forging of any true knight of the blade.

Of course she did not become a competent swordsman overnight, but over the course of the three years she had served under his tutelage, her instructor finally conceded that she was the match of any civilian and many a soldier with the dueling longsword, and could handle herself competently with a knight's armaments on the battlefield as well. That grudging nod of respect from her hard-bitten taskmaster was a reward for her efforts that to Jess was sweeter than any wine.

Jess suddenly blinked and shuddered, even as flashes of a warmly smiling Geoffrey, hair shimmering like gold in the brilliant summer mornings haunted her mind's eye. Her powerfully built but kind-hearted older brother, who had always enjoyed teasing her as all brothers do, who she had so fiercely looked up to as a child...

Just a little boy, gazing at her with no small amount of awe as his older sister wheedled their parents into allowing them both instruction in the sword.

16

Jess's heart began to pound, the hallway suddenly spinning.

“Angels above, a ghost!”

Jess blinked, focused instantly on the present once more as the young servant before her cried out in sudden terror, having dropped the massive crock that really had been a bit too heavy for the young man to be carrying after all, splattering hot fish stew all over the otherwise pristinely maintained stone hallway, her cat purring as he immediately dove upon a particularly tasty looking morsel of fish, devouring it happily.

“Twilight, you did that on purpose!" Jess scolded even as the panicked young man screamed of ghosts and dark magics and ran away, numerous servants stopping wide-eyed to stare at the mess before two older ladies began to clean it up with rags and scolding tongues, completely ignoring the strange ebony-furred cat adroitly dodging their rags even as he gorged upon every piece of well-cooked fish he could find.

Her cat flashed a toothy smile. "Me? I am but a tool of fate, beloved mistress. This tureen of rather delicious fish stew was fated to feed me, and far be it for me to deny destiny its rightful path. Would you not agree, dearest Jess?"

Jess cocked a jaded eyebrow. “It was fate for you to leap upon the tureen and startle the poor boy into spilling it, not to mention terrifying him to within an inch of his life?”

At this point her cat was positively grinning. “As it was for you to be woolgathering along this corridor at this precise moment. The conclusion is obvious, my Jess. We are both instruments of destiny.”

“Get back on your perch, instrument of destiny, and leave the poor help alone,” Jess growled, her cat immediately flowing up her side like liquid smoke, lightly settling himself upon his favorite spot once more.

“Of course, beloved mistress,” he purred, rubbing her cheek with his own, smelling quite strongly of spicy fish stew.

She couldn’t help chuckling throatily, stroking his fur. “Evil kitty,” Jess crooned affectionately as he purred, refusing to meet the strange glances the newer staff members sent her way before more experienced ones swatted their peers.

The older servants flashed Jess apologetic smiles, well used to her, and no doubt loath to offend the girl who gifted them with herbal poultices of such potency free of any charge, Jess sensed, no matter what gossip they shared once she was safely out of sight.

Jess sighed and shook her head, regathering her basket of herbs and picking up her pace, heading down the corridors at as fast a walk as she dared.

“Jess! Good morning to you! I don't normally see you taking this route to class, or are you off to see Liam?”

Jess waved greetings to Erica, relieved to see her looking hale and healthy, for all that she sensed the faint tension in her friend's gentle gaze.

“You know how much I love classes,” Jess smirked. “Your second guess was on target. I'm off to see Liam, and when was the last time you saw me attending class anyway?”

Erica grinned. “It's been awhile, I admit. But when it comes to mastering the battlefield, your prowess are second to none.” She shook her head. “I study so hard just to memorize our assigned battlefield accounts and tactical treatises, but when I hear you speak it's like you can visualize the entire battlefield. You don't just memorize the events as they unfolded, learning from the masters, you try to think up alternative strategies, still keeping all the pieces in play, a dozen battalions in your mind!”

Erica chuckled ruefully. “And that you have the temerity to share those ideas with Eloquin? The king's general, as if you were his equal? By the gods, Jess, I almost fainted the first time you did that. But he actually took your suggestions seriously, and for all that he found flaws in some of your ideas, he credited you with being a worthy opponent against any strategist alive today! And I swear, this summer? While you are baiting our peers into duels with training saber or longsword, he has us study your plays just as intently as the masters!”

Jess gave a playful bow. “I do my best, sister of the blade. Your safety matters a lot more to me than pleasing whatever stuffy professor I should be listening to even now, if I bothered with that side of things here at Highrock.”

Erica gave a sad shake of her head. “You'll never know what you're missing, Jessie. So many opportunities to learn and grow. Even eternal summer has to end sometime, you know.”

Jess shivered and looked away, deliberately not reading into her friend's words.

“Jess?”

“I'm off to see Liam,” Jess said, flashing Erica the warmest of smiles, turning away before her friend could say a word. “Now get to class. One of us has to honor the reputation of Squires in academic circles, and the gods know it won't be me.”

A cloud of warm laughter behind her, Jess hurried on her way, grateful for Erica's praise, all too painfully aware of her own failings as a student, for all that she didn't mind poking fun at herself with friends. At least she could take comfort in the fact that there was one teacher out there who approved of her. And as far as she was concerned, Eloquin was the only professor that mattered.

Jess smiled, breathing deep of fresh summer air let in from the numerous opened windows as she arrived at the Healers Wing. Always well cared for and kept scrupulously clean, the healers subscribed to the idea that illness somehow hid within the stench of rot and filth. Whatever the validity of their theory, Jess certainly couldn't fault them for their attention to cleanliness and order.

Packets of dried flowers and opened shutters allowing for constant breezes kept the air near as fresh and fragrant as her garden, and whitewashed walls allowed for a light, airy series of rooms and corridors. Not that such measures could ever completely hide the stench of true illness, even quarantined as the truly contagious were.

“Ah Jess, so good to see you!” The preoccupied young man opening the door to Jess’s polite knock broke into a relieved smile, traces of worry softening at once. “Let me get the master, I know he wanted to speak with you. Give me just one moment.”

Jess stood politely by the door, curious as to what the head healer needed, nodding politely to the warmly smiling elder dressed in white robes who soon approached. "Ah, Jessica. It warms my tired eyes to gaze upon you, a vision of youthful vitality if there ever was one! And I see you have brought your cuttings. How fortuitous! I was just about to ring for one of my apprentices to track you down.”

Jess smiled and bowed, handing over her basket. With that the ivory-haired man expertly perused her harvested herbs, nodding approvingly as if he held true treasures in his hands. "I swear, never have our herbs been as potent as when you deigned to favor our garden with your tender ministrations." He gave a sad shake of his head. "If you had but the healer's gift, I would count you as my favored student. But fret not. No healer can master his craft without the aid of a skilled herbalist. It is only thanks to those such as yourself, with a knack for measuring an herb's potency and unlocking its true hidden potential, that allows our art to reach heights undreamed of in centuries past. I hope you understand just how precious you are to us, dearest Jess, whether you possess the gift or no.”

Jess forced herself to smile back, inwardly wilting, knowing that it was her complete and utter inability to cast even the simplest cantrip that kept her from learning the arts of the healer. “I am glad to know that my plants are put to good use in your care, Sir Jevons. I picked them all at the peak of potency. I hope they aid you in the creation of your salves and poultices.”

“Oh they most certainly will. And I am pleased to see that you have gathered everything we need, as rich and potent as we could possibly have hoped for, before we even thought to call for you. Truly remarkable.” He nodded approvingly over Jess’s basket of freshly plucked herbs. “Thank you again, Jessica. One of my apprentices will let you know if we are in further need of your cuttings.”

Jess bowed. “It is my pleasure to serve, as always. Though I must confess to something of an ulterior motive in my visit today.”

Sir Jevon's eyebrows raised a bit at that. “And what pray tell would that be?”

Jess grinned. “I understand you are still treating a number of Squires and Aspirants recovering from a training accident. I wanted to check up on my brothers-in-arms and see how they were doing.”

Sir Jevon's lips hardened. “Hardly a training exercise, whatever fictions your bloodthirsty general insists upon. But very well,” he sighed. “The student bears no guilt for the crimes of his teacher. And to be fair, quite a few astounding tales are circulating through our wing regarding rather remarkable feats of derring-do, performed by none other than yourself.”

Though he was smiling as indulgently as any grandfather by the end of his declaration, Jess's own gaze was as hard as steel. “Anything uttered is to be considered delusional ramblings and no more. You know that, right, Master Jevons?”

The older man just shook his head and sighed, gaze almost sad. “And already the beautiful girl who had so delighted in her garden but a season ago has been forged into a creature hard as steel, though I wonder how brittle, keen as your edge no doubt is.”

Jess lowered her gaze, feeling suddenly humbled, realizing she had just committed a massive breach of impropriety.

A gentle hand patted her shoulder, and she did her best not to flinch, for all that her fists curled. “Very well, young Jessica. Though I should not even have to say it, your secrets are perfectly safe. Delusional ramblings, if you will. We healers take our oaths just as seriously as you do yours. Of course you may visit your friend. My assistant will show you to him.”

At which point the young healer who had first greeted Jess favored her with a polite bow before taking her down the corridor leading off to a number of well-appointed rooms, very similar in design to the wing relegated to student quarters, most students sharing quarters split off in three or more sections, the wealthiest among them having personal suits of their own. Jess was amused to see that the healers Wing was laid out in much the same way.

“Of course the drugged ramblings uttered by Squires here are unlikely to circulate very far,” a smirking Twilight noted. “After all, if a healer's reputation for discretion was anything less than absolute, what powerful lord brooding with schemes, old wounds, and endless skeletons in his closet would risk being healed if he had to fear potent secrets slipping into the seas of rumor, should he cry out under the influence of drugs or magic? And those deliciously corrupt lords baring so many scars that pain them, or simply the annoyances of advancing age, their purses ever heavy with the gold of those who fell before them, are all too tasty a prize for any worldly healer to neglect. And who better to receive noble indulgence than healers sworn never to betray the confidences of those they heal? More discrete even than the Royal Healers in the capital, perhaps explaining why our dear Jevons is kept so very busy, and why he is so esteemed by the dean that depends upon his wing for so much of his yearly budget.”

Jess smiled, stroking lush fur only she could see, “Hush, cynical one. Josie has explained to me more than once that though we can do nothing to turn back the tides of time for our noble guests, we can certainly ease the pain of its passing, and any noble of means is willing to pay in gold for advancing age that hits no harder than any man whose hair has just turned to gray. Twenty years of autumn is forever better than twenty years of blind, hoary winter, is I think how she put it. But it requires infusions that are time consuming and quite draining for our healers, which is why they have so little time for the rest of us, save Squires and Aspirants, of course.”

Twilight grinned. “There is that, of course. Not that Eloquin's favored students need worry about such things as Winter's hoary grip while serving under his banner. And I do believe I see Liam ahead. Healer's Oath or no, the way he is gazing at a certain girl, and she back at him, their feelings won't be secret for very long.”

Jess blinked, unable to deny her familiar's words. Her gut clenched to see a normally smiling and cheerful Liam, so vibrant on the training grounds, now pasty-faced and sickly, leg splinted and torso bandaged, the nasty bruises he had suffered giving mute testament to the grievous wounds he must have suffered, with over half a week spent in the care of the best combat healers in Erovering and still a far cry from the vibrant health he had once enjoyed.

Yet broken lip, cracked tooth and bruised face aside, his brilliant smile lit his face to beautiful affect, giving evidence that, despite his pain, something had filled his heart with joy.

Jess felt her heart skip a beat to see none other than Sable gazing so tenderly at him, gently stroking his bandaged brow, soft lips whispering a jest that set Liam to laughter before coughing, Sable herself gently holding cup to cracked lips as Liam drunk deep.

Elegant, beautiful, with heart-shaped features and a sensual elegance that Jess had no doubt would set half the Court aflame with desire, here Sable was, gazing so fondly at Liam, her smile wistful and solemn. Eyes filled with unnamed sorrow and a poignant sort of hope.

Jess turned her gaze, humbled by what she had seen, catching sight of gentle Ava, Sable's quiet servant, carefully swaddled babe sleeping contentedly in her arms. The warm smile she favored her mistress with touched Jess's heart to see.

“Jess! It is great to see you, thank you for stopping by.”

Jess looked down at her friend gazing so fondly at her, his grip strong and sure as Jess gently clasped his hand. She brushed back his light brown locks of sweat soaked hair, sensing a fierce vitality underneath his wan pallor.

“It's good to see you, Liam. I swear, it stung my heart, hearing you were so badly injured. The last I recall, you were laughing with good cheer, proving my match with the saber, much to my surprise.”

Liam grinned at that. “And that's the only time I've ever beaten you, with any weapon I can think of. It's great to see you, Jess. Honestly, when I think of what you did for us, how much we owe you, the nightmare that ambush had almost become...” Liam shuddered, gazing at horrors only he could see. “There is no way I can say thank you enough, Jess. No way.”

Jess flushed and looked away, catching Sable's tender gaze. “He's right, you know. You really did save us, Jessie.” She gazed back at the sleeping child swaddled in Ava's arms. “You saved all of us,” she whispered. “Ava was but a heartbeat from being sold into slavery. And I? I cannot tell you the horror you saved me from.”

Liam nodded. “Had you not sprung those steel traps, somehow; you, Malek and Mord then daring to take on a score of Velheim chargers...” Her friend shuddered, gaze haunted once more. “We'd all be dead, Jess, I have no doubt.”

Jess shook her head. “And I don't remember a damned thing. I'd like to think I would have fought just as fiercely and honorably as you say, but...”

“It's true,” Twilight assured. “Every word. Save that no more than a score of Squires would have perished, had Eloquin not been willing to reveal himself fully. Neal’s contingent would have harried them mercilessly, I have no doubt, but as it stood, half your brethren were in mortal peril. Well done, Jess, if I haven't said it before.”

Jess flushed at the praise, even as a smiling Sable clasped her hand and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Jess, for giving me a second chance.”

Jess swallowed, humbled by the praise. “Whatever it is I did, I'm glad I was there for you. All four of you.”

Sable's tender smile left Jess breathless. “I am so grateful to know you, Jess. I'm only sorry that you have to know Mord at his ugliest. I know it won't make any difference but, when we were both young children, before Father did what he did to us... he was actually quite sweet."

Jess sighed. "I might pity his past, but it doesn't change who he is in the present. I will fight by his side should my master bid it, but if he thinks I will ever marry him, he is more deluded than the most raving patient ever to be brought under Sir Jevon's care." Twilight chuckled softly at that. "I'm just grateful that you, dear Sable, were able to find a man worthy of your heart." She gazed down at Liam who couldn't help a rueful chuckle.

“Imagine my surprise, Jess, when this vision of beauty is helping to soothe my pain, my terror, all through the awful journey back to Highrock, my broken bones tormenting me as we rode with all haste through forest and field. And imagine my surprise when she refused to leave my side, once the healers had declared her, Ava, and little Julia fit and healthy.”

Sable smiled. “I easily grow bored, I'm afraid, but with Liam's delightful banter and charming smile, I saw no reason not to quarter myself in this healer's room reserved for noble patrons. And who would they be to deny a Squire of War, fighting for Highrock, equal care to their richest clients? Room enough for a few extra hammocks, and not once has Liam minded little Julia's morning cries.”

Jess raised her eyebrows at this. Sable chuckled “Don't you dare make me blush, Jess. It is far too late for that. Ava assures propriety is observed and accompanies me to the baths when the whim strikes me to refresh myself. And fear not, Jess, even at odd hours... no scion here is unaware of who my brother is. So however wild the lasses at Highrock are, no boy will try a late night seduction, unless, of course, I want him to.”

She looked full on at a blushing Liam as she said the last.

“You jest, beautiful one, but I am more happy and grateful for your company than words can say,” Liam whispered, though when his eyes locked upon Sable's own, Jess couldn't help but note the way his face lit up, pain and tension easing away.

Jess smiled. “It was good to see you, Liam. I see you are in good hands, and I hope for a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you, Jess.” Liam grinned back, Sable as well.

Jess gazed down at her familiar as they left the Healers Wing. “That was interesting, don't you think?”

Twilight grinned. “A jaded smile from an exotic woman hinting at so many twisted secrets, searching for a way out of the darkness. A sweet idealist shining like the sun, looking for a maiden to save, and what a dark beauty he has found. Fascinating.”

Jess nodded.

“And if you care to look out the stained-glass windows cleverly fixed in their frames so as to allow their opening, you can see how the sun just kisses the horizon. It will soon be time for our next circle meeting, if you still wish to attend.”

Jess blinked. “I had completely forgotten about that. Yes, we should stop by. Alex and Jera are just brimming with secrets, and I, for one, would love to hear what the Wizards Wing is up to these days.”

Twilight sighed. “Hopefully nothing that will imperil the school, though knowing that group, I won't be placing any coin on the wager.”

Jess smirked. “Such a cynic! I'm sure it will be interesting either way. It's been our retreat for years. Even if we never did find any wildly grandiose way of shaking the pillars of politics or magic or trade, four of our members found each other, and we've managed to keep the riffraff out of our private little retreat quite well, over the years. Come, we can cut down this corridor to get there faster.”

“Mistress, I don't think we should...”

But it was too late. Jess lurched and stumbled back, only remembering why she always took the long way to their hidden library after she heard the scream.

17

Please, please don't kill me.”

Jess shuddered as the panicked words rung through her, memories washing over her as viscerally as the day she had left behind.

Billy had been his name. Well-padded yet strong, he was no weakling, and Jess was certain she had caught sight of him sparring, once or twice. He had been so curious about Jess and her friends, doing his best to ingratiate himself with her, striving in his awkward way to make her laugh, asking if she and her friends did anything interesting when they wandered off privately together, and letting her know in no uncertain terms that he’d like to be a part of their clique. He had been trying to befriend her for several days, Jess realized, though for the most part she had politely ignored him, keeping up a distracted pretense. She had felt that something was slightly off about him; she just wasn't sure what it was.

Yet when he had professed his desire to join her, implying that he knew and wanted to embrace the group he suspected she ran, the rotten discord of his intentions had suddenly washed over her. It had been as if he had removed a bandage filled with festering foulness he had kept well covered, which before had given her only the faintest disconcerting whiff, yet when he had dared to face her directly, to gaze into her eyes and declare what an asset he would be to her coterie, it was as if he had lifted his shirt, exposing far more than he had intended.

For she instantly sensed that not only was he lying, but that he was a simpering treacherous snake working to wheedle his way into the bosom of their group, wherein he would take secret delight in spying upon them, reporting to masters unseen who sought their downfall. Even worse, it was as if his malice had opened up a crack into the rotting woodwork of his mind, a crack Jess could peer through as if their minds were momentarily one, and for a shuddering second Jess was overwhelmed by the sick, twisted fantasies she sensed within.

Jess closed her eyes and shuddered, reliving those furious moments.

Jess didn't say a word after Billy confessed his desire to join her, his foul gaze confessing so much more. She merely grabbed his arm before leading a still simpering Billy off to one of the less frequently used side hallways, even as his slithery lies and maggoty placation washed over her. His every word rang painfully discordant to her ears; gangrenous, filled with deception. Hearing his foulness filled her with a horrible tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach, her gut clenched so fiercely she feared she’d vomit, but all that came forth was a blistering hot rage.

She did not even see her fist shatter his nose, only registering the blow after the fact.

Her hand began to throb ever so pleasantly, his warm blood trickling down her clenched fist.

The beefy young man collapsed against the wall of the corridor, stunned by her sudden savagery. He quailed, looking up at Jess in sudden horror, whimpering when he caught her gaze.

“I know your dirty little secrets, Billy,” Jess declared in a voice harsh and raw, barely able to contain the sudden fury coursing through her. “I know about your dark little fantasies you think to keep so well hidden. The things you dream about doing, where no one can see you. And if I ever hear from you again, if I ever even see you, I will make sure that everyone else knows your vile little secrets too. Now get up, Billy!”

Jess grabbed his lapels with her fiercely clenched fist, and for all that he was actually an inch taller, and strong, her muscles had the sinewy resiliency that hundreds of hours of swordplay had given her, and Billy’s frantically squeezing hands found her wrist harder than oak.

When she shook him, his teeth snapped together and his head jerked upright. Horror turned to desperation as he writhed and struggled within her vise-like grip.

"I don't like it when people lie to me, Billy. The putrid stench of their attempts at deception makes me want to vomit. It rings a shrieking discord in my ears, and makes my blood boil! Do you understand me, Billy? Do you bloody well understand me?"

Her voice had geared up from guttural whisper to a shout, and her poor captive, the would-be spy, was shaking and sobbing in horrified disbelief. She slammed him against the wall so hard he stumbled and fell to the floor with a cry. Jess loomed over him, smacking his tear covered face, grabbing a handful of his greasy curls, struck with the sudden vision of smashing his head repeatedly against the hard stone wall of the corridor, taking a fierce dark delight at the thought of covering the walls with the shattered remnants of his vile crimson treachery.

Jess yanked the boy's face upward, forcing him to meet her gaze once more. "I'm going to make sure your dreams of hurting those children can never come to fruition, Billy."

Her laughter, cold and dark, ceased his desperate protests. They died on his lips. “I could rip out your heart out, Billy. Did you know that? Crush your larynx, so no one hears your screams. Crack your skull so hard, all the little lies and peeps of deception are crushed against this stone wall. Forever.” Jess’s voice caressed her victim’s ears. Shuddering violently, he began to moan.

A delicious fury washed over her. She could feel the sweet sensual caress of righteous wrath coursing through her sinews, filling her with a terrible strength. She started to laugh.

She could do it, she realized. Deep in her heart, she had always known. She could kill this mewling little worm, shatter his skull like an egg and walk away in blazing triumph. If anyone challenged her she would grab their wrists, yank them forward, and clench their throats. She would squeeze so hard their larynges would crackle to bloody pulp, then slam their wild-eyed, choking visages right into the granite walls, relishing the sickening crack of their skulls shattering before she tossed them to the ground, lifeless heaps of broken flesh.

She need fear no wizards. Their puny arts would melt before her wrath like morning dew before a blazing hot sun. She realized they were beneath her.

She craved, hungered for, a darker, deeper, purer magic. She could no more channel the dross of mortal magics than a bull could spear trout on his horns. But what need did a bull have for such trivial tricks? He could bellow his wrath and tear through armored men and mounts alike. Her fury was that of the fiercest minotaur, her nature far beyond the paltry talents of lesser creatures. Few in this school could beat her with a blade even when she held back, and in that moment of terrible, liberating wrath she suddenly understood that she had always been holding back.

Always.

And finally, with the sweetest caress of outrage and blackest fury, she was free.

“So, dear Jezabelle, are we awake at last? Is it time yet? Are we done with sophistry and ready to begin the killing?”

Jess blinked.

From nowhere, her cat’s icy words cooled Jess’s hot fury. “Tell me, beloved mistress, how many of these students, children really, do you think you can butcher before these pathetic excuses for professors realize that something far beyond their ken is in their midst? And all because this one stupid boy had the audacity to scheme against you?”

Twilight’s caustic commentary cut through her like a whip.

Jess blinked. Her eyes caught Twilight’s unfathomable gaze, and her gut clenched in sudden shame. She then looked at the shivering, whimpering student before her, little more than a boy really, gurgling and bleeding all over her tightly clenched fist. Every corded sinew stood out upon the arm that was presently choking Billy alive, even as his hands clawed desperately, futilely at her steely wrist.

She gazed into Billy’s eyes, wide with terror, silently pleading for his life.

She felt of a sudden horrified and sickened. Stunned by what she had done. What she had in a sick savage moment contemplated doing. Not just to this panicked student, little more than a boy, really, but to anyone who crossed her.

For one moment, she utterly loathed herself.

Fighting back hot tears of shame, she tore her hand away from the young man’s supplicating grip, spinning around even as he collapsed to the ground with great heaving breaths. Without a word, she walked away from the broken student behind her, Billy's high pitched sobs echoing through her mind long after she had returned to quarters.

She couldn't bear to face anyone that day, afraid of what she would see, should she peer too deeply into their gaze. Afraid of what they would see in her. Instead, she curled up in her bed, too depressed to move. All that day she felt the weight of Twilight's heavy gaze upon her, and her eyes were hot with tears of shame, fearing she had broken a sacred trust, horrified by how close she had come to embracing a killer's frenzy.

And had actually given into that unforgivable madness? She knew her loyal Twilight would not have judged. He would have been by her side, even then. Even though he knew it was wrong, and she would be dragging him into darkness too.

“I’m sorry Twilight,” she had whispered at last, in the darkest hours of the night. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Her tears were hot and stinging, and it was an immeasurable relief to feel her warm purring kitty deign to accept her aching need for his touch, the utter relief she felt as her shaking hands gently stroked his fur.

“There is nothing to apologize for, my dear Jess,” her familiar soothed. “I simply woke you up to what you were doing. Nothing more. It would be a shame to ruin centuries of good behavior for no good reason, in a simple moment of pique. I can only imagine what David would say.”

Jess abruptly stopped stroking his fur, despite his mew of discontent. “What are you talking about, Twilight? Who is David?”

Her kitty sighed. “Never you mind, dear Jess. What matters is you made the right decision for you. I know the duality of your nature. And there is no greater crime, I think, than for one to deny one’s true nature. Your fate is tied by two diametrically opposing destinies. Hot with the bile of potent killers that it is, the blood of paladins also flows through your veins. So you must be careful. Always careful. And know in the darkest depths of your heart which path it is you truly wish to cross, whenever the black rage takes hold of you.”

“Ah yes,” Jess had smiled, once again stroking the fur of her purring cat. “Our raider ancestors, infamous for their ability to fly into a berserker’s fury, who wrested this continent from its original inhabitants. Of course, our ancestor’s clans then mixed and interbred with the natives until we were all one people. Thus, no lord can look too far into his family’s past without finding blood on his ancestral hands. And I have heard of paladins out of legend. I’m sure my father would love to take credit for the blood of heroes as well as raiders being in our family veins.”

“Something like that,” agreed her purring kitty. “Now sleep, Jess. You’ve had a long day.”

Strangely, perhaps, Jess had suffered no consequence for her terrible act of intimidation and assault. She was both ashamed and relieved, and felt too discomfited to even inquire as to what had happened to Billy after that day. All she knew was that she had never run into him again, and no one since had ever bothered inquiring too closely as to what Jess and her friends were up to.

In truth, Jess was just as glad never to face his frightened gaze again, lest she be forced to acknowledge the terrifying rage that lurked within the darkest corners of her own imperfect soul.

Jess stopped of a sudden and blinked, shaking away her brooding ruminations as she strolled past the very spot where she had almost throttled Billy to death, just last year. She felt an eerie chill flow up and down her spine as she turned to her familiar, gazing back at her with his enigmatic sapphire eyes. “Twilight, it just occurred to me. That incident with Billy.”

Her cat flashed a dark grin. “I remember it well, my Jess. You were in rare form, that afternoon.”

“Ha-ha. Anyway, it occurs to me that I never did find out who was behind his pandering. As much as I felt that someone was pulling Billy's strings, I had no real sense of the puppet master himself.”

Her cat gave a thoughtful nod. “It would be unlikely that you could have, without beating the answer out of him. That you are able to sense deception and malice when someone lies to you with cruel intent is a rare and precious gift, my mistress. But to sense the very origin of the strings pulling the marionettes that are the souls of this realm? Not even the dukes and queens of Hell could perform such a feat without interrogation, or at least careful questioning.”

Jess shivered. “Sometimes your choice of words chills me, beloved Twilight.”

Adroitly, her cat leaped to his favorite perch, purring softly, butting her cheek with his own. “My apologies for the poor choice of words, dearest Jess. Let me say instead that you are blessed with your gift, and as you did successfully rout poor Billy, whoever was pulling his strings has been prudent enough to withdraw from that line of attack.”

Jess blinked, frozen in her tracks as she was hit with a sudden revelation. “Mord de Plaga,” Jess hissed.

“And what brings his name to your lips, my mistress?” Twilight asked curiously.

Jess shook her head in disbelief. “His whole bearing changed right after the incident, do you remember? His sly, nasty mockery. His promises to see me sent home in disgrace. The fury he felt when I kept doing so well in the seasonal challenges during our first year, for all that he refused to ever duel me again, even the overseers agreeing to this, citing bad blood between us.”

Twilight nodded. “It would do the school’s reputation no good to have one of their prize students permanently maim another. And I know that neither General Eloquin nor Knight Commander Hyve want to risk losing their star pupils to something as trivial as a grudge fight. You two are both too well trained at this point for it to be assumed you couldn’t trade fatal blows, despite cares taken to assure the matches are non-lethal duels.”

Jess grinned. “You so rarely use their titles, my kitty.”

Twilight sighed. “It is in a commander’s capacity that they make their decisions. Remember, my Jess, the players that matter are not stupid at this college. Why do you think you have such powerful nobles and former commanders taking on the roles of instructors?”

Jess grimaced. “To ready the newest pieces to take their places upon the board of kings; newly forged commanders ready to protect our nation against the next generation of military threats we face.”

Twilight nodded. “And it is a piss poor general who allows his pieces to kill each other off, when he’s spent years forging them to take the enemy’s pieces off the field of battle instead.”

Jess shook her head. “But regardless of all that, don’t you see? After the incident with Billy, Mord’s attitude changed entirely! He was no longer quite the same caliber of ass.” Jess scowled. “Angels above, he’s made his hunger for me known to any boy who dares show an interest in me.”

Twilight gazed thoughtfully at Jess, giving a slow nod. “Perhaps he was the mastermind behind Billy’s maneuver. And when he saw how thoroughly you had ruined his pawn, Mord’s contempt did turn to a twisted sort of admiration.” Twilight shrugged. “Of course, his perception of you truly began to change the moment he and a very few of his fellows dared to augment Squire ranks, those nights Eloquin teaches you all what it truly means to be forged in the cauldron of battle. Mord revels in bloodshed, and few men are your equal when it comes to the killing arts."

Jess felt her guts roil. “So his sick obsession began after I utterly terrified his cat's-paw."

Twilight grinned. “That and how closely your dark savagery resonates with his own, when your blood is hot with the terror and fury of fighting for your life in earnest. To say nothing of having pounded Billy's nose to a pulp, near crushing his windpipe, and gloating that you could sense his attempts to deceive you.”

Jess frowned. “I did sort of admit that I could sense his lies, didn’t I?” She shook her head. “And Mord's friends hardly say a word in my presence, I’ve noticed. Very cagey creatures.”

Her familiar nodded. “No doubt they have all sorts of pustulent secrets, and are savvy enough to utter nothing but the truth in front of she who has become a worthy opponent.” He shook himself, as if clearing his head of troubling thoughts. “Enough of this, dearest Jess. Come. The Circle of Midnight awaits our entrance. Perhaps our friends will have insights of their own, or can at least serve to entertain us.”

18

Jess took a deep breath as she gently knocked on the door of the long-abandoned reading room all but hidden in this rarely used corner of the keep, doing her best to dispel the memory of Billy's terrified pleading, eager to escape all brooding ruminations with the twin balms of gossip and friendship that had helped her endure so many stormy days at Highrock.

Quietly, the library door was opened to reveal Josie, golden hair sparkling in the lamplight, wearing a beautiful sky-blue dress that suited her twinkling eyes and golden locks so perfectly, simple at first glance yet deceptively elegant in its construction, much like its wearer. She smiled warmly and bid her friend enter.

The forgotten room had been in a state of disrepair before their group's ministrations, but now it looked downright homey. The badly damaged texts had been given to the prime library's scribes who asked no questions as to their origins when told they were gifts to the library. What tomes and scrolls remained were all in excellent condition. As to the reading chairs themselves, most had been in deplorable shape and promptly disposed of, though several leather backed chairs and an old divan had been deemed salvageable; the college's carpenter and tanner each paid a silver talon to restore them all to perfect condition, as well as to assure the craftsmen's discretion. The chairs and divan were now pieces worthy of any parlor, their supple leathers exquisitely comfortable to relax upon.

They had stocks of brandy, ale, and fresh containers of water they changed regularly, stores of dried biscuits should such ever be needed, and someone always remembered to bring fresh milk and loaves of bread, and most days cheese, meat, and pastries as well. Jess smiled, acknowledging to herself that the sad truth of it was that half the time their group was more about meeting, socializing, having a bit too much to drink and securing a private spot with one's beau in one of the darker corners of the chamber than it was about unearthing lost bits of lore and forgotten knowledge.

No doubt those piles of blankets ostensibly stored away for emergencies would be the facilitators of a college inspired wedding before too long, the way her friends took to their meetings. Which was quite ironic, Jess thought, as the supposed purpose of the Circle of Midnight was to free themselves from the chains of societal expectation and obligation, not trap themselves in chains of their own making.

“So the knight has returned to the Circle’s midst. We can begin.” Smiling, Raphael winked at her. His honey brown ringlets, well cared for as always, ran freely down his shoulders in an elegant wave. Tight fitting hosiery showed off finely sculpted legs to excellent effect, Raphael's rich red doublet showcasing wealth and vitality both, and Jess was reminded once again why he had become so popular with the female students of the College, and why, despite the heady scent of his cologne and the warmth of his handsome smile, it would most definitely not be a good idea to fall in love with Raphael diOnni. Besides, as Josie’s heartfelt sigh and Raphael’s gentle gaze reminded her, someone had already lost her heart to him long ago.

“Here you are,” Josie said, handing Jess a silver plate with an artfully carved ham and cheese sandwich, and a tall mug of cold milk.

“Thank you, Josie. A meal fit for royalty. We can be grateful to our neighbors for the genius of meats and cheeses on bread and pastry, if nothing else.” Jess smiled her appreciation, having learned long ago that far from finding it demeaning, Josie enjoyed playing hostess, mothering the group with her culinary and banquet skills. Besides, it did give her an excuse to stroke Raphael whenever she passed him, which she did quite regularly, and he’d playfully catch her arm and kiss her palm, winking at her, setting her to giggling.

Alex rolled his eyes but kept eating his sandwich, long inured to the antics of his circle-mates. Of slender build and unassuming demeanor, his light brown hair and dark eyes made it all too easy for him to blend in, but Jess had long been aware of his piercing intellect and natural flair for the mystic arts that made him one of the rising stars of the College. His residency and future tenure as a wizard here at Highrock were all but assured.

Alex, at least, could rest easy, knowing he could spend a lifetime studying elemental lore and mastering his ever-growing talents at the college, called upon only by the king to use his future great and terrible magics in defense of the kingdom as needed, compensated by a generous stipend, as were all royal battlemages, for their efforts on the Crown's behalf. Other than that, he would be left to his own devices to do as he pleased. He was utterly free of the worries of politics and arranged marriages, and all the headaches that went with it.

Jess sighed, remembering youthful dreams of becoming a powerful wizard before embracing the far more realistic and fierce calling of the Squire. She might not be able to cast the simplest cantrip, but she had a knack for the blade few could match, and had far less reason to fear enemy wizards than most.

They had all been friends for years, and though Alex didn't actually need the Circle, he did enjoy their company. He thought it prudent to always facilitate the exchange of ideas and philosophies between the different disciplines, as he put it, and Jess knew how hungry he was to master whatever magical arts he could.

At present, he was mostly just hungrily tearing into his ham sandwich, spilling crumbs all over his rich sea blue doublet. Jess wondered, not for the first time, if his studies kept him so distracted that he forgot to eat.

Jera, with her rich dark curls the color of mahogany, looked up from her own sandwich, favoring Alex with a critical gaze. Not for the first time, Jess thought they made a great pair, sharing a similar obsession with the arcane arts. Besides, she was the only member of their group smaller than Alex. “You really should take better care of your doublet, Alex. You look like a pig.”

Alex just smiled at Jera, which was sufficient to cause Jess's friend to blush brightly and glare at Alex before he resumed the all-important task of devouring his sandwich and getting up to make himself a second one before Josie could hop up and offer to serve him herself.

“Never you mind, Josie. If you wish to play hostess, I think Jera could use some more milk. Her mug is almost empty.”

Jera huffed, looked down at her empty container and shook her head, then busied herself primping her dark green velvet dress, determinedly not meeting anyone’s gaze.

Jess gave a satisfied nod.

Jera snapped her eyes up to meet Jess’s own. “What?” she demanded.

“What? Nothing.” Jess raised her hands in meek protest.

“I know what you’re thinking, so just stop thinking it. Even if Alex and I are sharing quarters, we're both eighteen now, so it’s none of your business, even if you think you have everything figured out. And I don’t care how good you are at reading people, my book is closed to you, so stop looking!”

“Okay, okay,” Jess agreed. “I’m not saying anything.”

“Besides, he’s a total jerk who only cares about his studies,” Jera sighed.

“I heard that,” Alex called out.

“I certainly hope so,” Jera muttered, and promptly shut her eyes, her way of tuning out the group.

Jacob, tall and brooding as always, wearing sheer black doublet and hose as was his wont, looked up from the tome he was studying. "Well, if we are finished with the drama portion of the evening, perhaps we can begin discussing matters of actual import?”

“Ah, dear Jacob, I quite agree," Raphael grinned. "And what could be of greater import than letting our dear Josie know how much we appreciate her wonderful hostessing? To say nothing of being captivated by her alluring beauty." A giggling Josie gasped in playful surprise as his strong arm gently pulled her down to sink into his lap. "You were away from me too long, my sweet blossom. I could not bear it," he whispered playfully into her neck even as he began kissing her there before releasing her to sit next to him.

“Behave, sir!” she demanded.

“I am speechless with regret. How may I make it up to you, my queen? I do spy a corner over yonder, away from prying eyes where I may speak my entreaties to you with the deep passionate remorse that I reserve for you alone.” He gently grasped her disciplining hand, capturing it to kiss the palm. She gasped.

“Later! After the meeting," Josie whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jess smirked, and Jera grimaced.

“Really?" Jacob sighed. "Is this the Circle of Midnight or a lover's den? Don't answer that. We all know the answer, I'm afraid. But let's pretend we're serious at least for tonight, shall we? I believe I have news that some of you might find quite intriguing!"

Malek, also clad all in black, though it looked far more natural on him and less affected, laughed softly at this, even as he gave his beau's hand a gentle squeeze. Malek's dark gaze caught Jess's own for a moment, his teasing smile implying that his sister-in-arms would enjoy the news as well.

Jess quickly finished her sandwich and grinned, her curiosity now truly piqued. She gazed politely at a pleased looking Jacob, happy to be the center of attention for once. For her part, Jess was eager for some interesting gossip from the arcane quarter of the college, happy just to get a taste of the goings-on of those with talent in the magical arts, even in the form of secondhand gossip.

And who knew? Rumors, legends, and ancient practices could unlock a sea of possibilities if one was simply open to the chance of it. Even Raphael grinned at Jacob's exasperation. For all that Jacob feigned disdain at the romantic undertones of their groups meetings, he and Malek used the Circle's lair as their lover's nook quite frequently, the old abandoned library being one of the few places besides their quarters that the two young men could share their feelings without censure. The bonds of trust and friendship in the group were such that they felt able to relax in this one bastion of acceptance as they were in few other places, outside the most cosmopolitan of cities.

Jacob glanced almost theatrically at the doorway, as if only now it mattered if there were prying ears about. He then gazed meaningfully at Jess, who smirked as she glanced at Twilight, though she had no doubt as to what he would tell her.

“You can tell your dear over-dramatic companion that no, no one is listening at the door, and I don't detect any trace of scrying spell or thread of binding to any of you that would indicate someone is listening in." Twilight smirked. "As if your opponents hadn't grown bored with their futile attempts to spy upon us, ages ago. As if the masters of this college of war really cared whether or not you all go at it like rabbits, since you're all of similar rank."

With a deadpan expression, Jess repeated this verbatim, the girls all flushing, the boys smirking.

Raphael’s eyes twinkled. “Did your invisible familiar really say all that, dear Jess?”

Jess grinned. “Every word.”

Jera sighed. "Since we started our group, we've all been relying on her invisible kitty scouting for us, and half the time we don't even believe he really exists. Either he's real, or Jess has a magical sense of intuition. Twice Jess said her cat sensed someone trying to scry upon us, and we just shut up and left. And the one time anyone even bothered to explore this library, Jess called it way before any of us heard a thing, and we had plenty of time to clear out. No one has troubled us in ages, however, not since Alex made peace with the boy so eager to surpass him as a battlemage..."

"We dueled, he lost," Alex cut in.

Jess shared a smile with her shieldbrother. "A duel's always the best way to end a feud," Malek commended.

Alex nodded. "And the Healers Wing assured that the bones set properly, and you can only see the faintest scar from the burns. Master Jevons was not happy about how much our little... exercise had cost him in time and resources, and Master Rens worked me so hard that semester I almost regretted the duel! Though now Henrick and I spar semi-regularly, having made peace long ago."

Jera glared at her beau. "...And no professor has ever brought us to heel for our little meetings or demanded that we explain ourselves. So either Jess's familiar is as real as her intuition, which we know is sharp, or it's not, in which case it doesn't even matter, since no one has bothered with us anyway."

“Oh, he’s real,” Alex assured, nibbling on his second sandwich. “I can sense the chords.”

“What?” Jera's eyes widened with wonder. “You can see him? Why didn’t you ever say so?”

Alex shook his head. “I can’t see him. Not yet. But I can finally make out some of the chords of power linking Jess to something. And as they spin off to infinity in the direction Jess faces when she talks to her cat, I will assume that is her de facto familiar. “

Jess gasped, shocked. Even Twilight hissed. She had long been accustomed to Twilight being undetectable to anyone save herself. This was the first time she had ever heard of any definitive sign that he was detectable, or that she had any links to magic whatsoever.

“Does that mean I have some talent for the arcane arts I just haven't tapped into?" Jess felt immediately childish for even asking. Her friends had the grace to look away. All knew how Jess had once longed to have the talent to cast spells, to embrace the Great Art, and feel the awe and majesty of its power; to one day be able to call herself a wizard in truth. And all knew how profoundly inept she was at channeling even the most basic of threads.

Jess immediately laughed off her query. “Forget I asked. I'm long over that childhood fantasy. Besides, I love playing the knight well enough, what need have I for a mage's tricks?”

Alex had the grace to smile, taking no offense. “Mages tricks have their uses, Jess, as does your blade, and your exceedingly useful familiar. You are no elementalist, we know that already, but the chords that bind you to your cat are, well, strange. That’s why I’ve never been able to definitively sense them before. I’ve known for a while that there was something, but it doesn’t seem to fit into the magical paradigm as we understand it.”

Jacob looked almost in awe. “Are you saying her familiar is a creature from beyond the bounds of known magic? Is the secret to true power here, hidden among us in plain sight, so to speak?”

Alex rubbed his chin, gazing at Jess with a slight frown. “Not necessarily. The fact that her familiar is beyond my understanding of the arts and, I suspect, that of most practicing wizards today, just makes the phenomenon very hard to study. I simply recognize that there are chords involved. Not what they are, nor the nature of their resonance with Jess. Oh, another thing, Jess. You do know you’re already magical, right?”

Jess found herself planted in her seat, poleaxed by Alex’s almost offhand statement, spilled milk all but forgotten. “What did you say, Alex? I’m magical?”

Alex tilted his head. "Perhaps that's not the right way to put it. As you know, wizards have struggled for years to develop magics sufficient to gaze upon our own spellwebs as they form. Unfortunately, this has always resulted in failure, but not without some useful discoveries along the way. We have at least figured out how to peer into a fellow wizard's core and determine their aptitude for magic, at least to an extent. And before you ask, Jess, your previous professors never bothered because, quite frankly, it is a working only a master of his craft could accomplish. With such magics you could look at me, or Jera, and see dark pools of calm at our core. This is where we have learned to open ourselves to the True Art, developing the metaphysical equivalent of looms in our souls with which to weave the endless energies and threads of power drifting through the world into useful webs of magic. With you, it's different. I get no impression of any calm center within your soul where you could learn the knack of weaving together those webs colloquially known as spells."

Alex's gentle smile was almost apologetic. “I'd be amazed if you had any knack for spells at all, Jess. Whereas Jera and I have pristine centers of calm, and Jacob and Malek, to a lesser extent, have similar gifts, your core appears to me as a constant brooding storm, crackling with a potency that's almost scary. But to be quite frank, I doubt you could cast a single cantrip worth a damn.”

Malek and Jacob, Jess noted, looked a tab bit offended at being included as an afterthought, but were also caught up in Alex’s explanation.

“What about Josie? I know she has talent as well,” Jess queried.

Alex nodded. “She does. It’s very specialized, though. She is an exquisitely gifted healer, but the shape of her loom is very specific to channeling those energies that resonate most strongly with vitality and restoration. She'd exhaust herself if she ever tried to wield battlemagic, and perhaps injure herself as well.”

Josie huffed. "I already know my limitations and my strengths, Alex. Thank you very much for illuminating the obvious."

“You’re welcome,” Alex deadpanned, eyes twinkling with gentle mirth. “The point being that with Raphael and Jess it's different.”

Raphael’s smile was good-humored, indulgent. “Quite all right, dear Alex. I know the life of a mage isn’t for me. I’m quite content being the well-educated heir to a vast and powerful trading empire. And should any of you, my fine and talented companions, find later in life that coin is as sweet a balm for success as magical accomplishment, I’d love to have you fellows at my side when I work to expand my father’s empire.” He then wrapped his arms around Josie who blushed and smiled. “I could especially use the services of a good healer.”

“Ooh, does my poor prince have an injury he needs healed? Perhaps I could soothe your aches.” Josie’s grin was indulgent as she wrapped Raphael’s arm around her and sighed, her head resting on his shoulders.

Alex smiled. "Offer noted and appreciated, Raphael. As I was saying, our good friend here, talented and brilliant individual that he may be, does not have the knack to open his soul to harnessing and weaving the strands of ether that permeate every facet of our universe. His soul, like that of the vast majority of people, is simply closed to it."

Jess felt the full force of Alex's dark-eyed gaze upon her once more. "With you it's different, Jess. Your soul is filled with potency. But it’s not something I really understand, let alone can quantify. You have a way with plants, right? Perhaps it’s some sort of nature magic that I sense, which would explain your knack for herbcraft.”

Josie nodded her agreement even as she snuggled close to Raphael’s side. “There’s no doubt of that, dear Jess. The herbs you pick for me are the most potent I’ve ever worked with. The beneficial properties of the potions hardly need enhancement with my arts. Indeed, I know for a fact that Master Jevons will use your potions for wound cleansing without needing to enhance them at all. He’ll just add his own powers to aid a person’s natural recuperative abilities, and the patient almost always makes a full recovery.” Josie smiled encouragingly at Jess. “Either we have the fortune of growing the most potent herbs I’ve ever heard of, or you’re a natural greenmage.”

“Greenmage, dear Josie?” Alex quipped.

Josie smirked. “Yes. Greenmage. A mage whose arcane aptitude is aligned to growing things. I just made it up, and it fits Jess perfectly. The plants she nurtures are the most potent this college has ever seen. That’s a fact. You, dear Alex, have just shown us that Jess is magical, even if it’s not something the college can get a handle on. So, it only makes sense that it’s some kind of growing magic, or greenmagic, let’s call it. Something present day wizards can’t do well, or our kingdom would never have to worry about crop failure or starvation ever again.”

Alex chuckled softly. “Actually, Josie, Druid is the term you are looking for. The land we now call Erovering supposedly had more than a few Druids at its disposal many centuries ago, before the elementalist tradition took firm root. Men and women with great power over the living world, who ruled it like kings and queens. Yet for whatever reason, as powerful as those beings were, the old traditions were lost. Some suspect it was simply because those with the gift were trained in the elementalist tradition as soon as the principles of that tradition had been fully realized, as it was so useful for war. And as the power of the storm and the art of growing things are so different, once a mage’s gift is shaped in one direction, it is unable to flex into another. Thus, sadly, their secrets died out centuries ago, or so the story goes.”

Jess frowned. “So because I developed a knack for understanding the plants in my father’s garden, it blocked my ability to understand the art of storms, calling lightning and thunder?”

Alex gave an enigmatic shrug. “It’s just a theory. Or perhaps the gifts just work differently. In any case, the mantle of Druid does fit you rather well, Jess. Of that there can be no doubt.

Twilight, however, gave a firm shake of his head. "Your gift with plants has nothing to do with your inability to channel the wispy magics of this realm, my beloved Jess. Put simply, their magics are as delicate as gossamer strings; easily broken, unable to survive the cauldron of your will." Her cat grinned. "You're no more suited for casting elementalist magics than a bull serving as proprietor in a glassworks shop."

Jess grimaced. “Thanks for implying I’m a clumsy bull, Twilight. I feel so much better now.”

Raphael kissed Josie’s cheek. “Brilliant, my dear Josie! We have rediscovered a lost school of wizardry and its sole surviving practitioner by dint of careful observation and deduction." He then turned to Jess, smiling warmly. "I do hope you will consider visiting my family's demesne after you graduate, Jess. Our House does considerable trade in the more exotic herbs, but we have a dickens of a time getting them to grow locally, and lose quite a bit of profit having to import them at considerable expense. If we could engage your services in setting up a local nursery for them, I think we could devise an exceedingly lucrative venture. I have no doubt my father would be quite amenable to the arrangement, and we would make sure your family profited handsomely from our enterprise as well."

Josie’s grin was ecstatic “Wouldn’t that be something, Jess? You could come with us to Raphael’s family villa! We wouldn’t have to separate after we graduate. Maybe we can arrange for the whole Circle of Midnight to stay together.” She then looked a bit forlorn, squeezing Raphael as if for reassurance. “That is, assuming we’re not just a third-year fling?”

Raphael chuckled softly under his breath. “My dear sweet blossom. How could I ever tire of savoring your delicious scents?” He began softly kissing her lips, working his way down her neck, seducing Josie into a blissful swoon. “What man would be so foolish as to let go of such a precious treasure as yourself? I fear it is my duty to disabuse you of that notion, and drive home how much I want you.”

Josie’s chuckle turned thick and hungry and she and her paramour began kissing deeply, in earnest. Jess smiled fondly at her friends, knowing where this was going to go, and seriously considered turning in early for the night, before things got really serious.

Their romantic entwining came to an abrupt halt when Jacob started tapping his table with his now empty flask. “Can you two not curb your passion for just a few minutes? I haven’t even told you my news!”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “I give up. What news would that be, brave explorer of the darker arts? Have you uncovered some secret new path to undreamed of power that will lead us to true dark glory and perhaps unimaginable riches, if we can market it correctly?”

“Well, no,” Jacob conceded. “But I did find out that the head wizards are about to send out a call for adventurers to come to the college! Something is up, my friends. Something fascinating. Perhaps there is some dark, undiscovered chamber deep within the bowels of this keep, fraught with lost tomes filled with forgotten wisdom. Or perhaps a realm of Shadow or Regio is overlapping our own, and only Delvers have the ability to enter those strange worlds of living dream and explore their lost secrets before something terrible happens to the school.”

Jacob's features lit with excitement. “Think of it, my friends! A call for adventurers, here! Maybe not all of us are the most talented of arcane practitioners, but who is to say we don’t have heretofore undiscovered talents as Delvers, able to traverse those realms of Shadow and dreams made flesh? Imagine the wealth and notoriety such a gift could bring one.”

Raphael whistled, and Josie looked as impressed as Jess felt. Malek smiled in satisfaction, also savoring the news. Jera just sighed, and Alex cleared his throat.

“You’re half right, Jacob. The Heads of the Arcane College are putting out a summons for Delvers, and there is considerable coin to be made for anyone who has the talent necessary to assist them. It is good money if you are a commoner, but for those with title and wealthy families such as ourselves, it’s hardly worth risking our lives for.”

Alex's gaze was almost sympathetic. "Believe me, I understand how much a number of us wish to be free of the burdens and demands we feel society and our families place upon us. And while it is true that adventurers have more freedoms and liberties than other commoners, and far less social expectations to adhere to than nobles, there are reasons why the Arcane College refuses to test students for Delving ability. The most fundamental one being that very few overlapping fragments of dream or Regio slide through this part of the kingdom; those Shadowrealms, as you put it.

Alex held up a placating hand before Jacob could interject. "Yes, you all know the tales… questing knights traveling through a strangely quiet valley with nary a settlement in sight, only to see what appears to be a majestically shining palace in the distance. A palace that, as one approaches, turns out to be but a dilapidated tragic ruin; its former glory but a mirage. Yet were that same knight to give it one last forlorn look as it fades back into the distance it would appear a glorious, pristine castle once more."

Alex's voice pitched low and solemn, as if for dramatic effect. "And we all know the other tales. Tales of those rare souls who could do more than just capture sight of a lost kingdom's forgotten glory in the distance. Stories of how brave fools with a certain knack, much like a bard's flare for conjuring tales so real it's as if he summons dreams sprung to life entire, can hold on to that majestic image in their mind's eye, and somehow approach that castle in all its lost glory. Approach that mirage, as if it were as real as the leather chair you lounge upon at this very moment, Jacob, even as that adventurer appears to fade into shadow to any awestruck villager staring his way."

Jess smiled at her friend’s words, finding the idea of being able to jump in and out of realms of dream a wondrous gift indeed, even as Alex spoke on. “Such tales go on to say how such an adventurer will fade back into being a day or two later, pockets full of forgotten wealth and lost treasures, panicked or exhilarated, telling a tall tale of high adventure few would believe, yet he swears is the truth, only to forget his own account by the next day.”

Alex paused, gazing quietly at his rapt friends. “As if it had all happened in a dream. Yet even if the poor tale spinner that no one took seriously has forgotten his own ravings of wondrous adventure, when he checks his pack, he will find that the treasures he discovered are as real as iron, even under the sober light of day.”

Alex looked coolly at Jacob who shivered and glanced away, unable to meet his friend's gaze. "And sometimes, those foolish adventurers don't come back at all. For such is the nature of the Shadowrealms, those overlapping layers of memory and dream, that lay at the very crossroads of existence itself. They are memories of power and glory, fragments of time so potent that they resonate infinitely among themselves. Wrinkles in the multilayered fabric that makes up our universe. Yes. Those places can hold onto the memories of lost treasures so perfectly that prizes successfully claimed are indistinguishable from reality, once pulled free of that living dream."

Alex caught Jess's eye, and shook his head sadly. “I know what some of you are thinking. How grand such adventures would be. But it is also true that such mini-realms are dangerous. Potentially deadly. Remember, my friends, these Shadowrealms lie upon the bleeding edge of reality, where what is real, what is memory, and what is dream become interchangeable. Uncertain. A terrible place where one misstep can leave your soul lost in some perpetual nightmare, forever. And even if you do manage to navigate your way through these mysterious realms of dream and horror, you are not alone. There are awful things that lurk within those Shadowrealms. Dark specters of living nightmare. Vile things that were once men before being warped and corrupted so horribly, trapped within realms twisted and strange. Creatures so terrible they will not only slay you, but slay all memory of you. As if your existence had been nothing more than a dream itself, to be forgotten by friends and loved ones even as you scream your last, lost forever within those nightmare realms of Shadow.”

Alex sighed. “And that is the saddest element of all. Any souls daring to explore those twisted realms who perish in the midst of their haunted, dreamlike journeys don't just die. No. It is as if they had never been. They flicker out of existence entirely. The wives they left behind remember nothing, save that they had always chosen to be alone for some terrible reason. Their children are assumed to be bastards, and only remember being teased and ridiculed as such all their lives, even if but days before they had been safe and loved in their father’s arms. That is, if those children still exist at all.”

Jacob grimaced, looking suddenly quite pale, and it was obvious to Jess that as much as her friend enjoyed the delightful fantasy of braving untold wonder and terror for the sake of glory, he had no real stomach for journeying into any twisted lands of nightmare. Not that Jess blamed him. She knew that underneath all pretext, Jacob was actually a very sensitive soul, and in his own way, fragile. It was a good thing he had Malek by his side, near Jess's twin in martial skill and soothing him even now, or Jess could only imagine how rough his time at Highrock would be.

Alex nodded, as if grimly satisfied that he had quelled at least one of their number's enthusiasm for a very dangerous fantasy. Still, if the look Jess shared with Malek was anything to go by, her shieldbrother found the idea of exploring these lands of wonder and nightmare just as compelling as she did.

"And don't forget," Alex added, "just as most people cannot even enter Regio, a fair number who just barely have the skill to do so really shouldn't. Their bodies are too fragile. They can't maintain their own sense of self. The Shadowrealm they stumble upon twists them into something horrific and monstrous. This is a subject the Arcane College has gone over with those of us in the advanced classes in some detail. Just as we need these sad brave souls who call themselves adventurers or more formally, Delvers, for some tasks, there is a terrible risk in discovering if one even has the talent to enter Regio in the first place. Unless one is without means in this life, it is not an advisable path to take. For death is at least as likely as glory, much as it is for knights leading the vanguard, deep within enemy territory.”

Jera nodded her agreement.

Malek, however, appeared unsatisfied with Alex’s assessment. “All that aside, though, it is a path to power for those willing to take the risk.”

Alex clenched his eyes shut for a moment, rubbing his forehead as if the point pained him. "Fine. Let's look at it fully. Let's be fair. Some of these adventurers do tap into something. They don't seem to weaken, they don't seem to age. It's as if they become part dream themselves. And yes, some of these souls, all untrained, do seem to able to manipulate some form of power that to the unschooled eye looks like magic, but is really just fumbling with forces far stranger than anything man was ever meant to master."

Alex’s gaze was almost imploring. “But the risks of Delving, Malek. Of dying to unseen threat or twisted foe, and fading out so completely that your friends and family lack memory of your very existence. Or even worse, what if you become so lost within those twisted realms that you risk being warped into some twisted bloodthirsty monstrosity who must in some corner of its sick mind realize the horror of what it’s become?” Alex gave an angry shake of his head. “The risks are so high, Malek, and the consequences so awful, I wouldn’t recommend any of you choose that path to power.” He took a moment to gaze meaningfully at all the members of the Circle.

Raphael smiled. “Don’t look at me, my overprotective friend. I have no interest in Delving into lost eldritch worlds and risking my very soul. I’d much rather greet those adventurers in my father’s hall, ply them with food and drink, and have a bard record for posterity their glorious tales.” Raphael chuckled. “Just because I admire the stories doesn’t mean I want to be in them.”

Jera and Josie nodded their agreement, and Jacob looked downright shaken, hearing of all the horrors he would risk, should he dare choose the adventurer's path.

Alex shook his head, flashing his friends a rueful smile. “Besides, what need do we have for risking our lives as adventurers? We are already immersed within living dream, even as we speak.”

19

Dead silence.

Jess felt her heart hammering as fiercely as it ever did to the clarion call of battle. A quick glanced showed her friends gazing at Alex with varying degrees of shock, or outrage.

“Alex, you know we aren't supposed to say anything!” Jera hissed, immediately flushing as all her friends looked her way.

Raphael flashed a strangely apologetic smile. “It's all right, Jera. Some have already put it together. The pieces to the puzzle are there, if you look closely enough.”

Alex bowed his head. “The scion of perhaps the most brilliant trading family in all of Erovering. I am somehow not surprised to find that you understand Highrock's most closely kept secret, and why such a powerful heir would elect to spend his time studying at an academy far more renowned as a college of war than finance or trade.”

Raphael chuckled. “The teachers here are surprisingly competent, for all that we are some distance from the Royal Academy. I suspect a few of the geniuses you have on staff are here precisely because they understand just how sacred an institution this truly is. And of course, I can write to Father for the latest treatises and tomes, however strange the delivery is, receiving packages, sometimes, the very day I send notice for them.”

Jess frowned. “That makes no sense, Raphael. No sense at all.”

Intent brown eyes gazed into her own. “Are you sure of that, my dear friend who I've known for so very long, it seems? Tell me, Jess, how many Circle meetings have we had this summer?”

Jess swallowed, shivering as if ice cold water had been splashed down her spine.

Malek frowned. “Bloody hells, what does that have to do with anything?”

Raphael smiled. “Humor me, my friends.”

Jess and Malek exchanged glances, realizing that neither of them knew for sure.

“I have no idea,” Jess softly said.

Raphael nodded, seemingly unsurprised, turning to Alex. “Would you like to explain, or should I?”

Alex sighed, nodding, rubbing his eyes before locking gazes with his friends. “We've met scores of times this summer, Jess. Scores of times.”

Jess blinked. “But that's impossible. We don't meet more than once a week!”

Alex nodded. “True.”

Jacob had taken on a deathly pallor, visibly shivering, even as Malek held him close, glaring at Alex.

“Get to the point, all right, Alex?”

“But that is my point, Malek. We have met up many dozens of times, our friendship as fierce and strong as lifelong allies, sharing whatever tidbit of news, development in our skills, or friendly bit of lore we could find. And all of it. So much of it. Just this summer.”

Jess rubbed her head. “But that can't be right, can it? I mean, I keep a diary. Or, at least, I used to... didn't I?”

Malek's brows furrowed. “I thought I did as well, but Eloquin made it clear that Squires had to be very careful what they put down to paper. He frowned against it, even if he didn't actually forbid it.”

Alex smirked. “Well, I have been keeping a diary, and I can tell you this. Tight and concise as my notes are, I managed to fit my yearly observations in a separate tome for each year I have been here.”

Malek nodded. “We've all been here about three years, right?”

Alex raised his brow. “Isn't it weird that you even have to ask? But yes, Malek. We have. I came her during my fifteenth year. I have three tomes for my fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth year. Just this past summer I turned eighteen.”

Jess smiled. “As did I.”

Josie and Raphael exchanged the warmest of grins. “As did we.”

Malek's gaze was one of growing alarm. “Let me get this straight. All of us, are of this moment, eighteen, and the summer just begun?”

Alex's smile was almost sad. “All of us, eighteen. And this summer far from just begun.”

Jess felt her heart skip a beat, gazing intently at Raphael. “When I first came here, I looked up to you. You were my senior, weren't you? I thought?”

Raphael's gaze was strangely sad. “As good as I am with numbers, chasing rumors of heretofore overlooked treasures, I don't know the answer to that question. As of this moment, no. I am absolutely certain we are the same age, born only weeks or perhaps months apart.” He flashed a rueful smile. “But if you were to ask me if I remembered at one point penning a warm line about how charming I found one of my younger peers to be, so animated by tales of adventure and magic, I wouldn't deny it, for all that it feels almost like a dream.”

Jess took a shuddering breath. “I don't believe it. I can't.” She gazed at her familiar, brilliant sapphire eyes gazing so intently back at her, her beloved cat refusing to say a word.

“Jess. Do you remember when you first blackened your dagger?”

Jess turned to Josie, blinking away bittersweet tears. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I do.”

Josie smiled wanly. “As do I. And how I held you when you sobbed your heart out to me, smelling of absinthe and laudanum, confessing things I knew shouldn't be said aloud, you knowing that I would never tell a soul. How I feared for you then, my strong, brave friend, even as you did your best to drink and laugh the horrors of war away. I feared for you even more when the girl you loved so fiercely left, never to return.”

Jess shuddered, holding back sudden hot bitter tears threatening to flood her, regrets she had put to rest long ago. “Yes. Yes, you were there for me, and I will always, always be grateful.” She smiled to feel Malek's reassuring squeeze, chuckling ruefully. “Honestly, Josie, I could have gone a lifetime without being reminded of Rowan, long ago as that was. And the first time I blackened my dagger?” Jess shuddered. “I favored laudanum far, far more than was good for me. It almost... it almost became a problem.” Her smile turned rueful. “No matter how wild the revels, today I will take nothing stronger than wine or brandy."

Josie smiled. “I know.”

Malek sighed. “I miss Rowan too. She was larger than life, powerful, sensual, the way her midnight gaze would just eat you up when she smiled, the way you two carried on... I halfway thought you would both run off to southern lands and become sister wives to a powerful lord, the three of you raising a great big family together, before everything changed.”

Jess flushed and turned away, holding back painful memories of love lost, and so very many regrets gained.

“Jess?”

“Yes, Alex?” She would not cry in front of her friends. It was ancient history, those first horrific missions long done.

“How old were you when you first blackened your dagger? When you first fell in love with Rowan? Was it summer or winter?”

“Bloody hells, Alex, enough!” Jess snapped. “You know I was eighteen!”

Alex nodded. “Eighteen. In late summer. Exactly as it is now.”

A moment’s breathless silence.

“But that’s impossible,” Jess whispered. “I mean, it has to be. The things I did… all the times Malek and I blooded our blades for king and Crown… all the nights Rowan and I shared before… no. It feels like, it feels like a lifetime.”

Jess rubbed her head, feeling strangely disoriented, slumping back into her chair.

“No, no it hasn’t been, has it? Just… weeks. Months, maybe. Certainly, no longer than that?”

Alex’s gaze was strangely sad. “Do you know what Eloquin’s Squires of War are called outside of Highrock? The rumor's frothing like ale everywhere in the kingdom?

Jess grimaced, saying nothing.

“The Huntsman's Hounds.”

Jess trembled at those words, Alex’s gaze locked upon her own. Malek cursed, Alex ignored him. "Reaping Autumn's harvest, forever embracing the High Hunt. Slavery, banditry, oath-breaking, any hint of treachery and out of thin air Eloquin’s band of mad, merry men would wreak the most savage sort of justice. Fields littered with the headless corpses of all who crossed the king’s honor, The Huntsman's black hounds then disappearing back into the mists from which they came.”

“Bloody hells, some things you don’t say aloud!” Malek snapped, all but growling. Alex paled.

“Stop it, Malek!” Jera hissed. “Alex speaks the truth. All the mages know it, except mages like you, Liam, and Lucas. The three of you actually training under Eloquin, blackening your daggers, caught in the thick of it. When we try to tell you, you laugh it off like it’s nothing. I’m surprised you’re actually listening, for once.”

Jess frowned. “But, that makes no sense. There shouldn’t be rumors like that floating around. A few whispers, maybe. But no so fast, not through all of Erovering. Eloquin’s band had only begin to blossom when Malek and I got to Highrock. Save for what Neal joked were a few training runs, we only truly began hunting in earnest when, well, when Malek and I and the rest of the third years joined in this summer!” Jess trembled. “For all that we’ve trained under Eloquin since our very first year, only this summer have we actually dared to blacken our daggers, fighting for a cause greater than ourselves, fighting to keep Erovering free of slavers, bandits, all the ne’er-do-wells Eloquin knows could destroy our land from within, if we let them.”

Raphael nodded, warm brown eyes gazing at Jess and Malek both with pride. “And my father’s letters often contain notes of how secure our roads are for trade, now the safest of any on the continent, utterly free of the highwaymen that had once plagued our thoroughfares. Truth to tell, Jessica, slavery has been all but abolished, the king’s Justice fierce and brutal. Any remaining pockets of slavery are relegated to shadowy dens of smugglers and ne’er do wells, like as not living on borrowed time.”

Jess took a deep, shuddering breath. “But how can this be? We have only just begun to eradicate slavery. I know this. Just like I know I’m eighteen. I see it in the face of the girl I spy in the mirror every day. I feel it in every bone of my body. How can this possibly be? Will I fade away like a dream, my time upon Dawn spent, when I leave the school?”

Twilight chuckled dryly at that.

Alex slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t think it works like that. It’s true that we are all eighteen and this just one wonderful, beautiful summer, seeming without end, even if the days get jumbled up in our head. Even if the journals we keep measure in the dozens when but a single brief summer we thought to record. And from what I understand, whether it’s student or professor, when it’s time for us to return to the world beyond our college, it’s an unavoidable call. Destiny, if you will.”

Malek frowned. “Alex? I don’t mean to insult you, but are you sure? Absolutely sure you couldn’t be mistaken somehow?"

Alex sighed, smiling wistfully as he turned to Jera. “That’s what we aim to find out.”

Jess took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the revelations, almost certain Alex had to be wrong. “What do you mean?”

Alex looked to Jera, who gave the tiniest of nods. “A few of us are going to leave the college tomorrow. I think, I can’t be certain, but I think I now have a sense of the massive enchantment in play. I would never make such a bold claim in academic circles without substantial evidence, but I’m almost certain I’ve deduced where the linchpins to the enchantment lay.”

Malek shook his head. “Alex, if this is true, if we really are lost in summer, well, as much as part of me wants to just pack up and leave and return to life, I can see how this would be a priceless dream to the gods know how many souls. It would be madness to fool with these linchpins, whatever they are, if they can even be fooled with. You risk bringing this enchantment, maybe the school entire if something awful happens, crashing down upon us. I shudder to think how severe the backlash would be, messing with a spell that potent.”

Alex scowled. “Don’t you think I know that already? Of course I would do absolutely nothing to jeopardize the school. Honestly, Malek, give me some credit.”

Malek smirked. “You can castigate me all you like, as long as you don’t bring this school tumbling down upon our heads.”

Raphael’s gaze also showed concern. “Not that I would ever gainsay my friends’ proposed endeavors, but I have to ask, did Master Rens authorize this, Alex?”

Alex flashed a sheepish grin. “Not exactly. But hold, don’t panic, guys, please. I’m not planning on disturbing the linchpins. I’m there to save them!”

“What do you mean, Alex?” Jess asked, pouring herself a fresh glass of chilled milk.

Alex sighed. “I take it you all know what shadowstorms are?”

Raphael nodded. “Odd storms one is advised to do all they can to avoid. Fleeing into the woods sometimes seems to help, though one’s best bet is to only live in areas with a history free of unusual occurrences. Of course, shadowstorms haven’t been seen in centuries."

“You are both right and wrong, Raph,” Jera said. “It is true that in major urban areas like Krona, they have never manifested, and arguably, this is why larger towns and cities flourished where they did. Our ancestors did their best to avoid any area wreaking of chaos and dream. But shadowstorms, though exceedingly rare, are very much a real thing. For all that they will be nothing but fable for most folk, along the plains just before the mountains defining our border with Velheim, they are rumored to occur much more frequently. We suspect this might correlate, somehow, with one of the linchpins.”

Raphael frowned. “I would think I would have been versed on the issue if it were truly so significant. It has tremendous implications in the field of trade, you know.”

Jera nodded. “I know. And often, after a storm, the world around the area hasn’t changed a bit. Crops still stand, houses as well, roads in perfect repair. Only the people are gone.”

Her brooding gaze locked upon all of them. “Or they remain. Changed. Altered somehow, perhaps horrifically. The king’s men are called, the aberrations are dealt with, and everything returns to normal, the kings oath preventing any man from talking about specifics.

“But sometimes… it is worse than that. The very ground warping and twisting before the horrors ripped forth from Shadow, infecting the mortal realm. When Delvers volunteer to explore realms of dream and wonder, at peril of encountering horrors in their quest for glory, they risk only themselves. They choose to infect living dream with their presence. Shadowstorms are the opposite, darkest nightmare infecting the world of the living. Most often it is only a few hapless villagers that are monstrously warped. But sometimes the storms are so severe that they can rip chunks of the kingdom free of this world, plunging them into darkest dream."

Rapheal paled and swallowed, Josie shivered, and Jess was left breathless, Jera giving them all her most reassuring smile.

“Don't worry. These latter storms are the ones that strike only once a century, though no one save a Delver has ever been able to dispel such a storm before everything was lost, by means we can’t even fathom. Lesser storms, which leave crops and houses the same as any summer shower even as random villagers vanish without a trace are far more common, though only in the least populated parts of Erovering. People living close to towns, cities, or forests do not need to worry about encountering them.”

Alex shrugged. “It's also probably why certain areas of Erovering are left fallow, no matter how fertile that land is, as past history of even the mildest of shadowstorms is a fair indication that such will happen again. And as safety increases in areas that are heavily forested, it helps to explain why Erovering's kings have held to what many consider long defunct treaties, leaving so much of the deepwood intact, only the outskirts of our forests carefully harvested for lumber."

Malek paled, locking gaze with Jess, both of them haunted by memories they dared not say aloud. “Let’s just say we believe you, that your words help make sense of things I'd rather not think about at all,” Malek said.

Alex nodded. “No doubt the king’s hounds have been called to clean up at least one such horror, once the storm has passed. But that’s not why we are bringing this up. Rather, I suspect that the enchantment blessing us with endless summer days also serve to protect us from the darkest of storms, even as the linchpin is anchored where they are most prevalent. Fortunately, that area is all but abandoned. Most lords assume it is just because the land is poorly suited for crops. Now you realize the real reason for it.” He turned to a pale-faced Jacob.

“Yet just as our friend pointed out, a call for adventurers has gone out, our sages sensing a dark incursion of Shadow that will soon be manifesting close to Highrock.” He raised his hand, as if to placate. “Fear not, it is no Shadowstorm, rare as they are, even on those arid plains. Rather, we suspect this is the smallest of rifts, an opening into Shadow that the boldest could use to transport themselves into a world of living dream. Though there is some concern of various students being foolish enough to enter such a rift of their own volition, most souls won’t even be able to see it as anything but a mirage. The real worry is that for such a thing to manifest implies a massive breach in Highrock’s defenses. It implies that we are vulnerable to the darkest of arcane invasions, with potentially dire results.”

Alex smiled. “For all that we have summoned adventurers, they are a last resort. Our primary objective will be to close the rift, so there is no passageway from mundus to Dream at all. But our secondary objective is to see if we can get a look inside this rift while sealing it off. Perhaps there are secrets to be learned that will help to advance our art."

Jera nodded. “And if my beau’s deduction is correct, and we have actually managed to triangulate one of the linchpins responsible for our endless Summer, it might give us a clue as to the source of the breach, and how best to ward against it in the future. That would serve to protect school and enchantment both, so we are never this vulnerable again."

Jess nodded. “Just as we Squires do our best to maintain Highrock’s physical wards, it only makes sense that you and Alex do what you can to protect whatever arcane defenses we have, even if we were not fully aware of them, and have no clue as to how they work.”

“And don’t worry, my friends. Jera and I won’t be going alone,” Alex assured. “A whole coterie of us will be making this journey, with several guardsmen accompanying us, just for peace of mind. Since our destination is on land no lord claims, no diplomatic overtures need be made. And with bandits so thoroughly routed, thanks to you Squires, the dangers should be minimal. In other words, I don’t think it will be much different from any other foraging expedition, if perhaps a bit more stimulating for the mind.”

Malek frowned “Your heading into dangerous territory, Alex, mystical storms or no. You just confirmed that the area dead north of us in the direction of the border is most prone to these shadowstorms. And we aren’t that many days from the border.”

Alex dipped his head. “Which is to say we still have scores of miles between us and Velheim. Relax, my friend, we are approaching it from Highrock, not Velheim, and border lords have successfully lived in close proximity to our neighbor for years. And we are a group of savvy students trained in wizardry who will be approaching the plains by roads that skirt the edges of the deepwood, more than able to slip within it if we spy any activity. So you see, we have little to worry about from mundane foes. As to more mystical dangers, even in that area shadowstorms are rare, occurring perhaps once every few years, and no doubt the Adventurers Guild keeps tabs on any remnants left over that need to be dealt with. Since the area is inhabited only by the rare clan of farmers more worried about living free than the perils of shadowstorms, we are unlikely to encounter anyone."

Alex took a sip of ale before smiling, as if reassured by what he saw.

“Now I hope I can trust to everyone’s discretion. We haven’t made this venture common knowledge. Few people will even know we are leaving. We’ll be fine.”

Jess gazed at her friend. “You only have to say the word.”

Alex grinned. “We’ll be fine, Jess. You and Malek do enough for our school as it stands."

Josie frowned. “Am I missing something?”

Raphael wrapped his arms around her, smiling at his friends. “Alex and Jera along with their coterie are heading off north, closer to Velheim than Jess and Malek think wise. As no one has bothered troubling various professors with this endeavor, they were only able to secure the services of a pair of guards. Jess offered the support of her fellow Squires, but Alex declined, confident in his own abilities and the safety of their mission.”

“You got all that from subtext?” Josie turned her head, flashing her man an approving smile.

Raphael winked. “As the son of a duke who makes his living primarily through trade, I had best be able to hear both what is said directly and what is left unspoken, or I will hardly be a successful trader for very long.”

Josie kissed her man approvingly. “My man the merchant prince. I have something for you, my prince. What will you offer me for it in trade?”

Her whisper was seductive and inviting, and the meeting was quickly adjourned as three young couples each made their way to their rooms. Jess more than happy to play chaperon for her friends at such a late hour, Twilight discretely assuring that the very few proctors at Highrock were otherwise occupied as they turned down various hallways, her friends giving Jess soft goodbyes as they disappeared into their quarters, two by two.

A short time later Jess was resting in her linen shift, gazing through her opened windows at the brilliant moon, high overhead.

“What a day it’s been, hey, Twilight? To find out I've blackened my dagger once more, only this time it's all a blur, and Alex and Jera are implying we’ve been fighting under Eloquin’s banner for the entirety of a magic summer that has lasted… how long did he say?”

“He didn’t. I don’t really think he knows.”

Jess shivered, throat bone dry. “Is it true?”

“Does it matter?”

Jess frowned at her grinning cat. “How can it not?”

Twilight sighed. “Fear not, Jess. Here, as in nowhere else upon the face of Dawn, you need not fear embracing endless summer. However long it seems, for you it is but the cusp of your eighteenth year. Enjoy it, Jess, every moment that you can.”

Jess smiled, feeling strangely at peace, soothed by her familiar’s words. “Do you know what, Twilight? I think I will.” Her thoughts turned to sweet smiles that had touched her heart, just hours ago. “I’m glad Sable found someone gentle. I don’t know what happened, but I can tell something painful weighs her heart, no matter how sensual her smile.”

Twilight chuckled softly. “Liam will not find himself bored in her company, and he might just be what saves her soul.”

Jess frowned at that. “What do you mean, Twilight?”

Her familiar gently butted her cheek with his own. “Never you mind, mistress. Feel the soft downy mattress call to you. You’ve had a long day. It’s time to let yourself slip into lands of dream far safer than those Malek already hungers to explore.”

And with the softest of smiles, Jess did just that.

20

The beat of Mercy’s hooves, desperate men gazing at her in panic and terror. Tilting forward, her spear punched through the poorly armored warrior before her, sending him crashing off his mount with a choking cry, blood shooting from his mouth, hands clawing at his side.

“Please!” A desperate man’s cry, gazing up in horror as Jess’s mace, shining in the fire of a slaver camp set ablaze, came crashing down, the man’s skull caving in, horrified eyes bulging grotesquely before rupturing, the stench of gore inflaming Jess’s nostrils as blood and brain spattered upon her visor.

And it slowed her not at all. Laughing like a madwoman as she pounded down upon the milling bandits, desperate malnourished men more than hardened mercenaries, each and every one of them falling to her awful blows as they shrieked and begged. And how she roared with her brother and sister Squires, reveling in darkest victory as scores of poorly armed bandits were ruthlessly cut down to the last man.

Heart racing, covered in a cold sweat, Jess woke to the sound of screams echoing through her chamber, gasping for air, breathless, only realizing upon stumbling out of bed, saber drawn as fast as a normal man could blink, that the screams had been her own.

She crumpled to her knees, unable to hold back the hot stream of tears pouring down her cheeks for absolutely no reason, unable even to sheathe her wickedly sharp blade, so badly her hands trembled.

“Mistress? I am here.”

The most soothing of voices, making Jess sob all the harder as her familiar flowed up her shoulder, stroking her wet cheeks with a thoughtful paw, glossy fur glittering like a thousand stars twinkling in the darkest depths of night.

“By the gods, Twilight, why am I carrying on like such a fool?”

Twilight gazed solemnly at her. “There is a price paid by all those who follow your path, dear Jess. Anyone with a soul, anyway. Eloquin’s revels can only do so much to soothe the spirit, I’m afraid.”

Jess flashed a bitter smile. “And I completely missed the revels no doubt just past, didn’t I? Not even remembering whatever I had done.”

Twilight nodded. “Ironic, that. In your dream, did you remember?”

Jess shivered and shook her head. “It was an old hunt. That band of slavers, such a thorn in Lord Killborne’s side. Or so we were told.”

Twilight nodded. “An ugly affair, that.”

Jess nodded, wiping away hot tears. “Most of them his own malnourished serfs, taking to banditry only to feed their bellies. They had kidnapped the baron’s own son. But what choice did they have? By all the gods, Twilight, my father would have beaten that bastard Killborne senseless, if he had been a lesser upon his lands.”

“But he was not, and those serfs, to their bitter regret, had embraced the one act that could only spell their doom, no matter how unjust their treatment.”

Jess nodded, eyes clenched tight. “The boy had tried to escape. Oh, if only he had waited, if only those foolish men had not panicked! There might have been a way. But after that, the lord’s own son run through by a panicked spear thrust… we had no choice, but to do what we had done.”

Twilight nodded. “And you didn’t know, mistress. Until all the ugly secrets were revealed, you had no idea the plight of those men, only that Killborne’s son had been captured, and you the first to sense his death.”

“And Lord Killborne. The horror in his eyes, how he screamed and wept. Truly, everyone paid the most horrific of prices. No one was the victor in that tragedy. No one.”

Twilight nodded, his cheek butting against her own. “You have done many virtuous things as a Squire. Don’t forget that, my Jess, for all that ruthless brutality has been your calling card as well.”

Jess flashed a bitter smile. “Eloquin’s mad, merry men. Forever on the High Hunt. Black hounds roaring out of forest and fog, cleaving life and limb from all our master’s foes before disappearing back into the mists once more. Why, by all the gods, did Alex have to bring that up?” Trembling, Jess held head in hands. “I like to just be Jess while at Highrock; a silly girl that can’t study worth a damn, who just likes to lie in the fields when not training, thank you very much.”

Twilight flashed an evil grin. “Preferably with a cute boy in your arms.”

“Or girl,” Jess allowed, frowning at her dye-stained hair. “It’s time I washed this off. Maybe that’s what this is. How can I be me if I’m still wearing a killer’s guise?”

“She’s you too, you know.”

“I know that all too well, beloved cat. Come, to the baths we go.”

Taking only a few moments to don bathrobe, gloves, and baton, Jess made her way to the baths, soft leather slippers making no sound upon rug lined corridors, encountering not a soul, so late it was.

She took a deep breath, smiling contentedly upon entering the steamy baths warmed by the hot springs integral to Highrock, magelights giving the grand chamber the silver-white glow of a full moon, more than enough light to see magnificent mosaic of a stormy seas, complete with an ancient ship battling the waves upon the grand domed ceiling. Jess smiled at the marvel, the genius that allowed a few glass tiles to so beautifully depict a ship's desperate battle with a howling gale, the mosaic fascinating her no less now for having seen it scores of times, soaking her muscles and washing the day’s grime away.

Of course, it could be all too tempting to allow oneself to slip into deepest sleep upon slipping into the baths, perilous for an exhausted Squire soaking away the strains and memories of battle. Perilous and foolish both, to bathe alone if one were exhausted, which was why all Squires bathed in pairs, after training or battle.

Jess frowned. On nights when Eloquin’s band had not claimed the chambers for themselves, there should be at least one attendant watching over the facility, yet there was not a soul to be seen attending to the piles of towels and robes made available for noble guests using the private pools in the chambers beyond the central one, and if not a servitor, Jess would have expected at least a student serving off a probation. And with all the new servants who now considered the keep their home, so many former slaves rescued by Eloquin’s band with no place else to go, it was doubly surprising that no one was tending to the baths.

Jess shared a glance with her familiar. “Odd, no?”

Twilight flashed a grin as he flowed down her shoulders, padding softly by her side. “Indeed. Let us investigate, just to make sure all is as it should be, before we leave ourselves utterly exposed, soap in our hair, naked and submerged.”

Jess nodded, her eyes darting across the room.

No one. Had any foe been stalking in the shadows, unlikely as that would be, Jess had no doubt she would have spotted it. Or if not her, her familiar at the very least.

The main chamber and its alcoves were empty.

Jess turned to the lords baths then, the largest and grandest of the side chambers, and where she herself normally bathed, having no issue with making the most of her rank, for all that she was happily egalitarian in so many aspects of her life. Though she would revel in a contest of arms with anyone, when it came to refreshing herself afterwards, she far preferred the more exclusive baths, soaking to the soothing susurration of a softly beating drum after female servants would wipe off any sweat and grime from her body with damp, scented cloths. Her fellow lords were always welcoming, all of them chatting and taking their ease as smiling servitors served Jess and her fellows from a plate of the cook’s pastries and a carafe of chilled wine as they savored the warm, mineral laden water.

There were advantages to rescuing grateful musicians and experienced butlers but a hairsbreadth from being sold to Velheim flesh merchants. And tending to noble guests in the baths, with comfortable quarters and full bellies was a life they were happy to embrace, lack of coin aside. Jess grinned. Their musicians and former seneschal had made it quite clear how very much they appreciated their rescuers, and Jess didn’t mind admitting that the baths, at least, were one place where she was more than happy being pampered the same as any noble lady.

Of course, at this hour, the baths were abandoned.

Save for the voices

Jess frowned as her hand hovered over the exquisitely cared for hardwood door separating the common bathing chamber from the lords, understanding at once that the baths were not quite so empty as they had first appeared.

Jess glared at the door, sensing that it had been bolted shut.

It could be nothing, of course, merely a fellow female wanting to assure herself a private bath at an hour she felt would inconvenience no one, but the panicked tone in what she realized to be anything but a relaxed conversation occurring in the room beyond melted away any hesitation she might have had.

She touched the wood and closed her eyes, smiling in satisfaction as the bolt popped out of the lock, strangely making no sound as it fell into the room beyond, the door opening to Jess’s soft push.

“You have a debt to pay, woman! I care not for your excuses or Mord’s placations. You know what was supposed to happen, what failed to happen, and it is for you to make it right!”

Jess could taste the bitter hostility in the words, gazing upon the flushed features of none other than Ubel Niedrig, a cold, calculating Aspirant who was just as savage as Mord and as wicked a fighter with the blade, while lacking all Mord's grace. A brutal blood-spattered mace, whereas Mord was the sleekest of stilettos. Both deadly, yet where Mord possessed a certain dark allure many girls found captivating, for all that Jess despised him, Ubel was nothing like that.

Nothing at all.

Yellow-grey eyes and a pockmarked face turned to sneer at Jess, Ubel cracking his fists together, arms bulging with twisted muscle that seemed ready to burst out of his felt covered gambeson. Large yellow teeth shone in an ugly grin, his powerful hand now squeezing the hilt of his sheathed messer, a wicked blade that was almost the size of a falchion, and a weapon Jess was absolutely certain he should not be allowed to wear, as only a proctor bribed in gold or terror would regard such a killing instrument as a mere knife. Girls alone were permitted to wear weaponry beyond a defensive baton, just in case they ran into someone like Ubel, wandering the corridors in the dead of night. Yet somehow he was wearing that blade and a buckler as well. Jess, armed with only a wooden stick, was utterly outmatched.

Ubel was no fool, having trained every bit as hard as Mord, and without that iota of decency that at least marked Mord as other than a complete monster. He looked down at Jess, wearing robe, gloves, and baton, and smirked.

“Ah, Mord’s little dove. What are you doing here, dove? This conversation does not concern you. Best fly away and be thankful you are Mord’s doxy, for if you weren’t, you’d be paying in teeth and tears for barging into affairs that are none of your concern!”

"I'm not Mord's anything!" Jess hissed, knowing she was a fool to be so easily baited.

“Jess!” Twilight’s voice. Urgent. He too understood just how perilous Ubel could be.

But Jess couldn’t look away from the other inhabitants in the room.

Sable. Completely naked, towel forgotten, trembling. Gazing at Ubel with a sickening mixture of fear, and despair. Clenching her half-moon necklace tightly, the only thing she wore.

And behind her, two smirking men in oft-patched tunics. They were of average height, though their muscles looked hardened with work, their eyes cold and hard as any criminal, dirty brown hair and pale blue eyes on one, ginger hair and brown eyes upon the other. And behind them, a servitor splayed out on the damp tiles, either dead or utterly comatose, flask by her side.

Jess could smell urine and fear both in chambers normally rich with the scents of exotic perfumes and blossoms. Without conscious thought, her hand had unsheathed her baton.

Ubel snarled, thick powerful fingers curling around his own blade. “Put down the weapon, wench, for if you make me draw mine, I shall make you wish you had never dared a man’s art!

Jess took a trembling breath, forcing limbs trembling with terror and fury to stillness. She would act when it was time, and not a second sooner. Keeping her peripheral vision fast upon Ubel and his minions, Jess’s words were for Sable alone.

“Are you all right? Where is Julia?”

Sable trembled, gazing at an increasingly irate Ubel. “She is… fine. Thank all the gods, she is fine.” Tears streamed down her face.

Fast as a snake Ubel spun around, jabbing his ham fist at Sable. “You broke covenant, you stupid whore! You know the price to be paid for that!”

Sable blanched, feature deathly pale. She denied nothing, dark eyes filled with sorrow locked upon Ubel’s own.

He snarled in Sable’s face, finger pressing her chest. “Make this right, Sable. You and your clan sure as blazes better make this right, or there will be hell to pay!”

“Back off, Ubel!” Jess roared, terror giving her voice strength, sickening fear she turned to fury even as Ubel spun around, gazing at Jess with what could only be called dark joy, whipping out his messer and shield almost as fast as Jess could, yet now only a wooden baton and thin mail-lined gloves would serve as counter to Ubel’s deadly chopping blade. A blade Ubel knew how to use as well as any knight.

He towered over her.

His chuckle was an ugly thing, his two henchmen drawing daggers of their own.

“Jess! Run!”

Twilight’s voice. No banter, no jest, deadly serious.

Deadly as she was fully kitted with saber or long sword in hand, here she was but a girl in her nightshift, holding naught but a club, against a man with thick padded gambeson and killing blade raised high, buckler skillfully held to parry her blows and smash her face should she make the slightest misstep.

For all her perilous scrapes as a Squire, despite all her hard-won skills, here and now she was truly in over her head.

For allowing herself to stumble into a situation where her enemy held all the cards, too foolish to retreat on feet far faster than most boys to return and wreak vengeance another day, made her an unforgivable fool.

But she had seen the way Ubel and his henchmen had looked at Sable.

She knew exactly what they had planned to do.

She couldn’t abandon Sable to that,
but she dared not stay.

“Well, Calenbry? Are you ready to die?” Mocking laughter, Ubel taunting her with his messer, blade flashing in moulinets before her, forcing her away. “Best you flee like the fragile little flower you are, girl. One last chance, and you can pay me for my mercy later when Mord is done with you.” His twisted grin widened. “Pay with your mouth. Swear to it, Calenbry. Swear I can take you like the savage beast you really are, whenever I please. Swear it upon your soul, and I will let you live.”

His words began to slow, sound itself warping strange.

Jess felt her own grin widen in a bleak parody of Ubel’s, heart roaring a staccato rhythm of unbridled fury.

Something in her smile, perhaps. Ubel blinked once and snarled, Jess darting forth smacking her long baton against the wall as fast as the massive Aspirant could blink.

The crack of wood against stone.

He smiled.

Then swallowed.

Jess now holding a blade of wood, lined with wickedly sharp thorns.

“Do you think that twig will save you, bitch?” Ubel roared, even as he stepped back. “This is your last chance, Calenbry. Leave these baths, and count yourself lucky I have other things to do than contend with Mord’s little doxy!”

“And what would those things be, Ubel?”

Jess felt a fierce exultation she never imagined she would feel as her nemesis made his presence known; Mord, fully armored, racing into the private bathes, glaring at Ubel with his own longsword held high, ready to lash out with deadly force.

The Aspirant’s eyes widened even as he spat, turning back to glare at Sable, still guarded by the two underlings watching the byplay with hooded gazes. “You summoned him, didn’t you, bitch?”

He turned back to glare at Mord. “So afraid of me that you had to burrow deep in your shell. You always were a bit of a coward, Mord.”

Mord chuckled coldly, handsome face graced with a killer’s smile. “Strange, hearing those words from you, Ubel, considering how desperately you fear becoming part of the High Hunt, reveling in endless kills, blackening your dagger in darkest fury.”

Ubel paled, stepping back. “You know what that man really is. You are a fool to run with his pack.”

Mord taunted him with his laughter. “I know exactly what Eloquin is, and I relish butchering alongside his hounds! It is a dark glory more than equal to your pathetic rituals, Ubel.”

“Watch your words, Plaga!” Ubel roared, glaring at Jess. “You dare much, breaking covenant with an outsider among us!”

Mord smirked. “You speak to me of breaking covenant, when you bare steel before my woman, bring fear to my sister? Your breach is far more grievous than mine.”

Ubel tisked, shaking his head. “Ah, Mord. You assume so much. Your filly was in no real danger, so long as she did not strike me first, opening the laws of defense, no matter her status as your soon-to-be wife.” His lips curled up in a cruel smile, yellow-grey eyes alive with a serpentine sort of cleverness Jess would be a fool to underestimate. “And if she had been so foolish as to surrender her body for my pleasure, to swear her soul to it, did I let her walk away, that is her choice. She only assumes that I wouldn’t have simply laughed at her back if she had simply turned around and left. I did not deny her egress, but that her fear made it seem so.”

“As if it was fear of you that stayed my steps!” Jess roared. “Your threats had nothing to do with it.”

Ubel ignored her utterly, refusing even to meet her gaze. “Teach your wench proper manners, Mord. Now that we are here, let us say what needs to be said.” Coldly, he resheathed his weapons, arrogant gaze dismissing Mord’s naked steel, his lackeys quickly doing the same, though one hissed, pricking his own thumb with trembling hands, the lighter haired lackey not nearly so calm as his master.

Mord smirked, unhurriedly sheathing his own blade.

“Say what you will, Ubel. But be quick about it. My sister needs her rest, and my woman awaits my pleasure.”

Jess glowered at Mord, startled outraged frozen to stillness, catching Mord’s gaze.

Outrage later. For now? She had to see this through, deliberately refusing to sheathe her weapon. Besides, she couldn’t sheathe her weapon, what with all the thorns her baton had grown.

Ubel smirked. “Bold, Mord. Are you declaring that the Calenbrys are with us?”

Mord only smiled.

“Very well. My point is simply this. Your clan owes mine a debt, Plaga. You know this, and you dare not deny it.” He turned to Sable, glaring. “This wench was supposed to pay that debt, and somehow, everything has gone to brimstone! People that were supposed to be in play are gone. Such that we know not even who is missing or what became of them. People that must have been lost to Shadow!” Furious hands cracked together. “Plans years in the making, suddenly in disarray. Eloquin’s blackened daggers very much alive, when whispers had it they had met sweet folly at last, though no one recalls the traps laid, or can even find our base in northern Erovering that we know is in Hyve’s territory.”

He stepped forward, bold as brass, jabbing a finger at Mord’s armored chest.

Mord only smiled coldly, flinching not an iota, hand casually grasping the hilt of his resheathed blade.

“What of it?”

Ubel snarled, gazing at Mord in outraged disbelief. “What of it? What of it? How can you say that, fool? Our base, whatever it was, wherever it was, has been burned free of our very minds! Key spiders weaving intricate plots sundered from their webs, and we have but strands of gossamer, taunting us with skeins of brilliant schemes shredded free of all our minds! We are stumbling in the dark, Mord, half our plans in disarray! This calls for the strongest response, and we don’t even know where to strike!”

Mord gave the most callous of shrugs, armored torso quite effectively conveying his disdain. “Why do you trouble me with your failures, Ubel? My clan plays its part. Every High Hunt, every soul I cleave from quivering flesh, every life torn free of its mortal coil, and all in the king’s name.”

“That’s power you garner for yourself, Mord. You still have debts and obligations to the Dark Council, debts I expect paid in full!”

Mord’s eyes crackled with ire, hypnotic in their intensity. Jess felt a delightful thrill at his trembling fury, swallowing down her exhilaration. He was her opponent, and the worst man her family could have possibly chosen for her, save for Ubel himself. Yet despite that, in this moment she couldn't deny the dark kinship she felt for Mord, both of them eager to protect Sable, and itching to cut their vile opponent in twain.

Ubel only smirked. “Debts, Mord. All your games, all your damned arrogance, yet still you are your father’s son, and so are chained to his debt, his obligations. Will ye or nil ye, you are bound to him, body and soul.”

Malek’s hand trembled upon his blade. For one terrifying (exhilarating) heartbeat, Jess though he would draw it and run Ubel through.

Ubel caught the movement, mocking smile growing wider. “By all means, Mord, run me through. My soul is no longer tied to this mortal shell. Power beyond your ken will be mine, the moment the ritual is complete, and I would happy to add your soul to my collection, your agony fueling my power for centuries, should you dare to break covenant now.”

Mord’s hand suddenly stilled upon his blade. His voice strangely calm. “Speak the nature of this damned debt you claim my family owes your own. You aren’t the only one who has been affected by unexpected holes in the scheme of things.”

Twilight hissed. “What games are these fools playing at?”

Ubel favored Mord with a measuring nod. “Now you understand the true nature of things. Good. I will give you the grace of playing the arrogant fool, not realizing the pieces missing from the board.” He flashed Sable an icy look before shrugging. “Perhaps your sister doesn’t recall either. Now your mutual obstinance and insolence is at least… tolerable.”

He flashed a cold smile. “No matter the failings of others, my clan is savvy enough to keep our ledger marked with the blood of designator and designee, supplicant and benefactor, such that no debt will be forgotten, no matter the storms of folly and Shadow that would tear all our pieces free."

Yellow-grey eyes bored into Mord's own. "The blood of Morlin, your father, has kissed that ledger.”

Sable blanched, covering her mouth as if to choke back a horrified scream.

Ubel twisted in serpentine fashion, chillingly fluid movements in one so massive, gazing into Sable’s eyes.

“I see you know, dearest Sable. Or at least, you suspect. The firstborn of Morlin’s twin scions is to be sacrificed. Or dare I say, gifted to the Niedrig clan. We will benefit from her strong spirit, coursing through our family, if you will, and she need never trouble herself over life’s daily concerns. We will take care of her… in perpetuity.”

He flashed Jess an oily smile, and it was everything Jess could do not to lash out with thorny sword of wood, eager to slash open his throat, no matter the consequence, so fiercely she felt the waves of malice rolling off the man.

He meant those words in the vilest way imaginable.

Ubel glared down at Mord. “You have a debt to pay, Mord, one that rifts in the webs of our brilliance will not sunder or deny! You will pay this debt, or the Niedrig clan will have Claimance upon Morlin de Plaga and all his heirs, body and soul.”

Sable sobbed, beautiful features crumpled in despair. “Please, Ubel, there must be some way…” She took a deep breath, smoothing her features, and with the slightest nod she forced herself up, standing proud.

Jess’s heart pounded from more than just dread. Sable was beautiful. Heartstoppingly beautiful, her piercing eyes and soft lips sure to lance any man’s heart.

For she had surely lanced Jess’s.

Slowly she lowered her arms, showing off a body both sensual and supple, lush curves at the peak of ripeness, breasts jutting proudly forward.

“Anything you want, Ubel. I will be your maiden, your sweet toy that will give you nothing but sharpest bliss, for so long as you attend this school.” She allowed bangs of glossy midnight hair to tumble down, gazing through them like the shyest of nymphs, her smile hinting at a chase she would be eager to lose, showering her captor with endless rapture. “But say the word, master, and I am yours. Just… please...”

Ubel’s ugly henchmen gazed at Sable with hungry eyes, licking their lips, hands gripping their pants like claws.

Ubel’s laughter, sharp and cruel, rang through the baths. “And what a wonderful harlot you would be, Sable. But I have no need of your pleasures. Enough girls here shudder at my presence and do as they’re told. And there are far, far sweeter vices than your flesh could ever be, Sable.” His mocking features turned to a hard glare. “No deal, Plaga whore. We will take your child, as we were sworn, and all the power such a sacrifice entails!”

“No!” Sable screamed.

In the blink of an eye, Ubel had unsheathed his blade, whipping it through the air with such speed it was by a trembling Sable’s neck faster than she could sob.

Jess hissed, terror and fury coursing through her, chilled to see the giant of a man move so fast. So vile. Hard to believe he was no older than her.

Jess felt her heart soar with desperate relief.

Even though Sable trembled, her flesh did not bleed from the blade pressed so gently against it.

Ubel jerked his head around. Furious yellow-grey eyes glaring into Jess's.

“Tell your whore to back off, Mord.”

And Jess blinked. Chilled to find that as fast as Ubel had moved, she had matched, her blade of wood and thorn kissing his neck. So instinctive was her training, she was only aware of her furious burst of speed after the fact, the tremble of his jugular pressed against killing thorns resonating through her grip.

But a single slash, and the room would be filled with his blood.

“And I will slash open this wench you so clearly crave, Calenbry, before my blade tears open your bowels, and all three of us can die together! But unlike you and her, I will rise, stronger than before. Claiming your screaming souls as my own!”

Massive yellow teeth shown in an eager grin. “Make the first cut, Calenbry. Let the dance begin.”

“Jess, back off!” Such desperation. She would hardly have expected it of ever arrogant Mord.

With a trembling breath, Jess stepped back.

Ubel smirked, shaking his head at a sobbing Sable. “Here you are, raised to our ways, and Calenbry already understands this game better than you. But that doesn’t surprise me. After all, you are no innocent either, are you, Calenbry? Amazing how your barony went from hardscrabble wasteland hardly suitable for sheep to the lushest province in the kingdom in a matter of decades, is it not?”

With contemptuous chuckle, he stepped away from Sable, resheathing his blade once more. “Your king’s grand gesture, giving his general territories exceeding most duchies, meant nothing, decades ago. Your father, whose only claim to wealth was fertile orchards adjoining the northern wastes. Wastes the king was all too happy to grant him, so a savvy man firmly in his pocket would keep it free of Velheim incursion.

“And now when the dukes who fail to understand the dark games in play realize what a treasure they let slip from their fingertips, that Arthur might have been cuckolded but never plays the fool, the land granted not an endless source of drudgery but rather of endless harvests, of course those dukes and their pawns are now eager to break your clan at every turn.”

Ubel gave a contemptuous shake of his head. “Your father was brilliant, but arrogant to deny himself the strength of the Dark Council for so very long. And unforgivably arrogant to forge alliances with the Plaga clan alone, when the Niedrigs are in ascendance!”

Jess lurched, off balance, horrified by the knowing smile Ubel flashed her. “How?”

Ubel snorted and spat. “Are you really so foolish, Calenbry? Do you not think we keep tabs on unorthodox surges of power? Meteoric rises to wealth and prestige manifesting for no apparent reason?” He glared. “My clan keeps track of all the pieces on the board. And if you are wise, Calenbry, you will break off all covenant with the Plagas, and come to my quarters on your hands and knees.” He chuckled softly. “I will show you what true power is then, and you will delight in utter submission.”

Jess felt her guts lurch, looking into his pockmarked, leering countenance. With a final mocking laugh he stormed off, his two lackeys at his back, one smelling of the midden heaps, the other of spice.

With soothing murmurs, she gathered a sobbing Sable in her arms, helping her to robe herself, bath forgotten. “Oh Jess, by all the gods above!”

Jess held her for some moments, locking gazes with Mord, shaken and horrified by all she had heard. She blinked. Never before had she seen Mord gaze at anyone so tenderly as he did his sister at that moment. He seemed almost human.

Jess’s racing heart eased as the threat of imminent death appeared to have past, yet the dark insinuations Ubel had let slip chilled her to the quick.

“What the hell are you all playing at?” Jess hissed.

Malek’s lips hardened. “Not here, Jess. Come. Let’s see Sable safely squared away.

But a shaking Sable was not so easily consoled. “Oh gods, Mord, what are we going to do? They still know! After all we did… they still know!”

“Silence!” Malek hissed. “You know how important that is.”

Jess frowned, gazing all around. She turned to her familiar.

Twilight dipped his head, oddly still for some moments, his tale bobbing back and forth. “No eyes mystic or vile gaze upon us at this moment, mistress.”

“Thank you, Twilight.” Jess turned to Sable, shuddering to see the dark lines of corruption struggling to entwine her beautiful soul.

Jess hissed and turned away.

“Jess? Heavens' mercy, please don’t turn from me now!”

Jess grimaced and forced herself to face her, seeing naught but a beautiful girl once more, desperately afraid for her child.

Throat dry, she forced herself to speak. “You play dark games, Sable. No. Don’t flinch. Don’t turn away. You need to hear this. Say nothing, Mord!” She snapped, Mord blinking and stepping back, unspoken words swallowed, listening to her for once.

Jess turned back to an awed Sable. “I do not know what foul games you play, nor do I want to. I can only tell you this. You need to cut all ties. You dare not stay. Whatever alliances your jaded clans have all forged, it is somehow… corrupting you. But you still have free will, Sable, you can still get out!”

Raw and vulnerable, Sable’s jaded smile had been replaced with a girl’s naked fear. “Julia, Jess. If… Oh gods, our souls are in peril no matter what!”

Jess gave a furious shake of her head. “I know not what Ubel was raving about, but I can tell you this. The sins of the sire are not those of his offspring. Your father can sign his soul away, gods save us all if the lords of Erovering are actually engaging in such foul practices, but he has no truck over your soul, or Mord’s, or Julia’s.

Jess swallowed even as Sable blanched.

She said it, she knew. But she would not shame Sable until she was ready to say it aloud herself.

“Oaths, Jess. Goddess help me, I have made promises...”

Jess kissed her forehead. “Consider yourself released,” she whispered.

Sable shuddered and lurched back, swallowing. “Jess, please, this is no game!”

Jess’s gaze hardened. “Leave. No enemy can compel you to follow orders if they fail to reach you. Just as no commander can castigate troops who never received their orders. You need but assure you never hear their demands.”

Twilight smirked. “Stretching the mandates to their breaking point, but it is permissible, I suppose. Sable is your piece, dangerous a game as free will is. You are well within your rights to protect her when a threat manifests itself upon the board.”

Jess frowned, but kept her focus on her friend. “Protect the ones you love, Sable. There is no more sacred duty than that, no higher calling. Protect them. Let that be your duty. Break off all other games, all other distractions, and you can blossom free and whole, dark vines withering away to nothing.”

Sable blinked, gazing at Jess so intently, with such fragile hope, that Jess found herself blushing and looking away.

A soft hand gently brushed Jess’s cheek. “Maybe there is merit to what you say. Thank you, Jess. I will think about it.” Sable turned to Mord, utterly still, gazing at Jess with such intensity that it left her breathless.

“Come, Mord, let’s leave this place. The faster the better.”

Mord flashed a bleak smile. “To the Healers Wing, then.” He turned to gaze at the comatose figure splayed upon the floor, which Jess was relieved to see was breathing, letting loose a loud snore. “If this fool hadn’t fallen asleep when she should have been watching out for you, Ubel would never have gotten the drop on you.”

Sable glared, Jess catching sight of the wine flask by the servant’s hand. “She was passed out when I got here. Convenient, I thought, for a private bath, and more the fool I.”

Jess caught Mord’s gaze. “Don’t kick her. She’s not trained for it, and you could rupture an organ and kill her with a blow you or I would shrug off, wearing gambesons, our muscles tensed to counter. There has been enough folly this evening.”

Mord’s gaze hardened, before giving the slightest of nods. “I’ll deal with this fool another time. But you’re right, Jess. We have more pressing issues before us.”

He locked gazes with her then. Jess swallowed, heart racing still, knowing exactly what those issues were.

And soon enough Mord and Jess had led a still shaken Rowan to the Healers Wing. She gazed at her brother, curious blush touching her cheeks. “Mord, I...”

Mord smirked. “I know you favor him, Sable. And Liam’s not a complete ass, for all that he fell in his first engagement. Most importantly, Julia’s safe in the Healers Wing. It is the only spot I trust in this whole damned college to keep her safe.”

Her cheeks flushed in a smile. “Thank you, Mord. You're one of the very few I can trust.”

“But don’t you ever do anything stupid like that again!” Mord roared, Sable blanching. “If you need to take a bath so damned bad, tell me. Or Jess. Or Liam, if he’s sufficiently healed to actually protect you.” His gaze turned hot. “And you may rest assured, that bastard won’t be bothering you again.”

Sable swallowed. “Please, Mord. Please. Don’t do anything foolish. You know the consequences would be horrific.” She turned to Jess, pinning her with a hope-filled gaze. “Besides. There just might be a way to keep us safe. Trust me, all right, brother?”

Mord sneered. “For you alone, sister. For you alone.

Sable smiled at that, kissing her brother’s cheek, squeezing Jess’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you both.”

A gentle knock, a sleepy-eyed healer answering the door, smiling and bowing Sable in before closing the door behind him, pointedly ignoring the weapons and armor worn before him.

Jess sighed, relieved beyond words that the girl was now safe.

She flinched as a powerful hand squeezed her arm, Mord’s intense gaze locking upon her own.

“You and I need to talk. Now.”

Jess couldn't agree more.

“What the hell just happened, Mord?”

Yet despite the words of a moment ago, he just shook his head, refusing to say a word as they raced down winding corridors until Jess found herself beside her own quarters once more, the hallway free of any student or proctor.

Jess blinked and frowned, Mord now pinning her a cold little smile that didn't touch his glittering eyes. She swallowed, realizing how vulnerable she was before a fully armed and armored Mord, her hand tightening upon her sword of wood and thorns.

Mord smirked. "Don't be pathetic, Calenbry."

"Then back off, Mord. I'm not Usel, so don't glare at me as if you want to cut my head off."

Mord chuckled softly. "That would be one way to keep certain secrets secret." He smirked even as Jess felt her heart pound frantically in alarm, before his eyes turned flinty. "But I don't stab people in the back who do me a good turn. You did well, coming to Sable's aid. I won't forget that when it's finally time for you to wear the dress and collar." Handsome lips curved into a cold smirk. "I will be far gentler with you than my father was when he broke in his concubines, I promise you that."

He loomed over her, whispering as she lurched. "Who knows, Calenbry? You might even find you like it. Some women do. Others grow to like it, especially when laudanum is the prize they yearn for, the sweet reward for obeisance, abstinence being an agony to them far worse than the whips and bindings that are but a form of delicious play."

"Back off, Mord!" Jess snarled, a hot bolt of fury roaring through her, shoving a fully armored Mord back so hard he slammed into the stone wall behind him, protected by his considerable armor, though now gazing at her with stunned surprise.

"Jess, now!"

Jess blinked, realizing at once what Twilight meant, sliding past her suddenly pliant door and slamming it in the face of a suddenly roaring Mord, her nemesis hammering the door with fist and foot before abruptly laughing with darkest glee.

"What fine games we play, my prize. You shall whelp strong get! For you alone I shall line a collar with softest silk, see if I don't"

Jess shuddered even as she sensed Mord whistling a merry tune that slowly faded away, as if satisfied with his move upon a board only he could see.

Jess frowned even as she shivered, find solaced in the familiar contents of her room, cabinets and armoire of finest oak, her hardwood bed lined with feather stuffed mattress and downy soft pillows, her study table covered in military treatises that fascinated her and the tomes of other courses she hadn't cracked open in months, colorful tapestries and rugs of wool a pleasing sight for restless eyes. Yet as her mind relentlessly went over the night's events, certain things became painfully clear.

"Bloody hells. He played me, didn't he? It's plain as day that he, Usel, and poor Sable are up to their necks in foulest intrigue, yet instead of answering my questions, he shows me such an ugly side of himself that it's all I can do to escape his presence!"

Twilight flashed an enigmatic grin. "Interesting how that happens, isn't it?"

Jess's brows furrowed at that. "What do you mean, Twilight?"

Her familiar shrugged. "It's not the first time he's thrown you off the scent, nor is it the first time he's insinuated darkest connections."

Jess frowned. "What should we do?"

Twilight tilted his head. "Considering that accusations of diabolism will result in the destruction of his entire family, or yours for levying such vile slander, and considering that Sable and her child are both perilously vulnerable with not a single ally in their corner save you, Liam, and Mord himself, I say we do nothing."

Jess frowned. "Nothing?"

Twilight nodded. "Nothing that would put Sable or her babe at risk, nothing that would put you or your clan at risk." Her cat flashed a teasing grin. "When he actually has you writhing in bondage, desperate for laudanum as he torments you with darkest passions, then we can act with a killer's grace. But tell me, Jess, even with those vile insinuations, did you sense malice parting from his lips?"

Jess swallowed, forced to shake his head. "Not a trace. Perhaps that's why his words shook me so. the vile taunt was completely unexpected."

"Yet perfect for throwing you off balance. You fleeing him, not the other way around, as he avoided your questions yet again."

Jess clenched her fists. "Damn it, he's playing me. His taunt was nothing but a feint, a bluff as he retreated."

"Pretty much. In any case it's been a long night, and you could use some rest if you're going to be worth anything tomorrow."

Jess couldn't hold back a rueful chuckle, putting away her gear and slipping at last under cool linen sheets, gazing fondly at the brilliant moon from her open windows before sinking at last into deepest sleep.

21

Come, my queen, the sun has risen and new adventures await.

Jess blinked herself awake, flashes of the day before coming to her as she washed face and hands at her basin before donning fresh attire. “Aren’t Alex and Jera heading off today on an unofficial expedition exploring the boundaries of whatever enchantment gives us constant good weather?” She smirked. “Endless summer. And wouldn’t that be a dream come true. I swear, by day, his theory sounds about as sensible as a child’s fable.”

Twilight grinned. “Or perhaps you have been trapped for years in endless summer, forever a beautiful young damsel just on the cusp of adulthood even as your soul quickens with a woman’s wisdom, your body potent with a warrior’s skill.”

Feline shoulders flowed into an effortless shrug. “Or perhaps Alex is just bored, and is looking for something exciting to do that gets him off school grounds. Either way, they will at least get some fresh air for a few days.” For a moment she was touched by the plate of beans and rice waiting for her upon a delicate hardwood stand someone had left just outside her door, somehow just knowing it had been left by shy, affectionate Abe. As awkward and clumsy as he could be, he truly was one of the sweetest students she had ever met.

She frowned then, gazing at the beans more closely.

“Is something wrong, my mistress?”

Jess shrugged. “You mean besides the fact that now I have to worry about Abe getting himself killed if Mord suddenly sees him as competition?"

"Yes, besides that."

Jess frowned. "I think the helpers undercooked the beans. Worse, I sense that there was some mold in this crop. Nothing fatal, but stomach cramps are a certain risk. Thorough cooking is the only way to eat them safely. Even better would be an uncontaminated sack of beans."

Jess winked at her grinning familiar. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you full credit for the discovery. The less people know about my knack, the happier Eloquin will be.”

Twilight dipped his head. “Your tactics are sound, and your sense of all things that grow under the sun is beyond reproach, my mistress. Too bad the same can’t be said for your luck with suitors.”

Jess grimaced her agreement, changing as quickly as she could into her Highrock uniform, her exotic thorny sword of wood put away and a far more mundane baton put in its place and she was off, enjoying the scent of warm summer air, the feel of the morning sunlight caressing her features as she raced by the numerous opened windows, pointedly ignoring the occasional frown sent her way, focused only on those students whose eyes were lit with the warmth of friendship, calling out jovial greetings to her, which she always returned in kind.

“Hey, Jess! How are you? You look really beautiful with black hair. I just thought you should, um, know.”

Jess smiled warmly at Abe. His plump, lively presence was always a comfort, freckled cheeks breaking into a cheerful grin, and Jess had to resist the urge to brush bright red locks out of his eyes. This was one boy who would always be kind, who was as gentle with children and the injured as he was clumsy with near everything else in his life. And why the professors so enjoyed using him for tasks sure to end in disaster Jess would never understand, knowing only that Abe was far too good-natured to deny anyone his resources or time.

“Thank you, Abe, I’m glad you like the dye. I’ll probably wash it out today. Oh, hold still, Abe, let me get that for you. You’re about to spill beans everywhere. And thanks for your own thoughtful gift, by the way."

Jess adroitly readied the tray Abe had been carrying, catching a bowl of beans just as it fell, twisting it quickly enough that not a single bean spilled out, though it had been close.

Jess winced at Abe’s awe-struck gaze.

“Heavens above, Jess, you moved so fast! That bowl, oh gosh, that bowl was going to spill everywhere! No wonder you are the best fighter in the entire school." His look of awe softened into a shy smile. "And you're welcome. I like getting you breakfast, Jess, I hope you liked the fare."

Jess grinned. "I'm grateful for your kindness, but I would recommend you forgo giving your master the beans, Abe. They’re not well cooked, and will cause a very awkward afternoon.”

Abe looked at her in surprise. “Oh gosh, I'm sorry, Jess, I wanted it to be perfect for you! He frowned in consternation, all but glaring at the fare. "They look fine to me, I picked out all the tough ones I saw in your bowl. How do you know they're bad? Can you teach me what to look for?”

Jess smirked. “I'm afraid not. My invisible cat that no one believes in told me. Ignore his advice at your peril.”

Abe looked of a sudden flustered. "Um… okay. But are you absolutely sure all the beans are bad? Master Reginald loves beans and rice in the morning.”

Jess shrugged, handing back the bowl of beans. “Up to you, Abe, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, because I did.”

A soft snort. Jess darted around, catching the hard-eyed gaze of none other than Ubel, his size and pockmarked face making him look like anything but a student, as imposing as any of the king’s own elite band of killers, striding down the hall like he owned the place. Other students, even one harried professor, darted out of his way without a word of protest.

Jess felt a sudden surge tremble through her limbs as the largest man in the entire school glared at her again, cracking his knuckles, scowling a warning Jess understood all too well.

Her response was a snarl, hand clenching her baton even as he continued to walk on by. She would not be cowed by anyone, even that giant of a student, as thoroughly trained in the killing arts as she, and massive besides. He sneered and sauntered off, Jess understanding the intent behind his glare, the battle-code his powerful hands gave off making it doubly clear.

If she didn’t want a broken neck, she dare not reveal a word to anyone about the night before.

Jess blinked, suddenly aware that Abe had said something, locking onto the fact that Abe was still staring at her intently, face lit up in an anxious, hopeful smile. “I’m sorry, Abe, I still feel a tad bit wool-headed, as I just woke up. What did you say?”

Abe looked down at his belly, sticking ever so slightly beyond the tray he carried. No one could ever accuse Abe of starving himself, at least. “Well, you know that there will be a gala in a few weeks’ time, and I was just, um, wondering, if you didn’t have any other plans, if you’d like to, you know… go. And, well, maybe I could go with you?”

Jess spared Abe a gentle smile, stroking his cheek fondly. "Dear Abe. Thank you so much for asking me! I always appreciate how thoughtful you are. Alas, I'm not sure if I'll be up to any late night galas next week, but if I do stop by, I'll definitely keep an eye out for you, and we'll share a glass of cider and you can tell me all about your studies."

Abe managed to look both ecstatically happy and mildly disappointed at the same time. “It’s just that um… okay, that sounds great! Let’s do that. I’d love having a glass of cider and talking about my studies with you. You’re so smart. And you’d be such a better mage than me with all your insights into magic if you were um… you know.”

Jess smirked. "If I were actually gifted in magic? No, it's okay, Abe. I was just kidding. I got over it a long time ago."

“I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. But anyway, who cares about that? You’re one of Eloquin’s sacred band, saving Erovering from dark forces and evil invaders, but of course we’re not supposed to know that, so never mind. And um... I would love to see you at the gala. If you want. Anyway, it’s good to see you, Jess. You look more beautiful than any princess. You know that, right? I gotta go. Bye.”

With that, a suddenly furiously blushing Abe performed what was for him a rare feat of dexterity, darting around a bemused Jess and hurrying up the stairs, all without spilling a thing.

“Good morning, all." Jess nodded at her friends as she entered the vast central dining hall of the college, strolling over to her accustomed seat, her shieldbrother grinning and patting her chair in welcome, Jess trading nods with any number of acquaintances, most especially her fellow Squires as she passed their tables, pointedly ignoring the smirks and cold looks sometimes sent her way.

She flashed her shieldbrother a knowing smile which he returned with a wink, and Jess savored the fierce connection she had with Malek, both of them equally excited at the prospect of adventure that awaited them whenever it was time to blacken their daggers or otherwise engage in acts of daring. With Alex’s quest, talk of exotic shadowstorms, and rumors of a gate into living dream soon to form near this very school, Jess suspected that exciting times were ahead.

Jess cleared her throat as she approached her table. “Greetings everyone, the food looks delicious. I recommend everyone avoid the beans, however, if they don’t want major stomach cramps by lunch time." This last part Jess said at full volume, shamelessly as always, and more than one table quieted, their occupants turning to stare at her with varying expressions of amusement and curiosity.

“What makes you say that, Jess?” asked a student from one of the neighboring tables.

"Well, I could tell you that it was an impressive feat of divination performed with the entrails of wild animals I caught by the light of the full moon, but that would be a lie."

Jess winked at the grinning student who had asked. "No, actually, it was my familiar that warned me about the dire fate awaiting those who would dare uncharted culinary waters today." She shrugged and smiled as many of the students chuckled, only a few with mocking derision. "Yes. The same familiar that most of you think of as my little eccentricity. Anyway, do what you will. I, for one, am avoiding the beans."

Alex gave her a bemused smile. "Welcome to breakfast. Been communing with Twilight, have we?"

Jess grinned. "Only about beans. Now if I could look as lovely as you in a dress, Jera, I wouldn’t have to rely on outrageous statements to get everyone’s attention and save them gods’ awful stomach cramps and a trip to the Healers Wing.”

"Well, you do,” Jera assured. “Look very attractive, I mean. Even now I see more than one fellow looking our way, and I don't think it's just because of your eccentric humor." Her friend smiled. "And good morning, Jess. Thanks for the tip on the beans."

Looking slightly pale, Jacob discretely spat out a mouthful of the fare in question. “I wish you had come down ten minutes ago. I do hope I don’t get sick.”

“You aren't really serious, are you, Jess?" This from Richard, another one of the more prominent lord's sons that had gravitated to their table. He and Raphael had hit it off seasons ago, their families having similar interests with their supply goods divergent enough that they could benefit from each other's trade routes, and minimize outside competition. Jess had no doubt that had one or the other been a girl, their families might already have betrothed them.

Jess nodded, thinking his quizzical expression did make his strong features rather handsome. "Serious enough not to eat the beans, Richard."

Raphael gave his friend a confidential smile. "Our dear Jess has a knack for this sort of thing. Guised as humor or no, her advice is often quite good."

“Yes, that's true." Elica, another regular at their table, was frowning at her plate before turning to Jess with a smile. "She is quite the herbalist, after all. And good morning to you, Jessica."

“Good morning, Elica.” Jess nodded at her friend. Quiet, polite, and very proper, Elica had quite a knack for portraiture. Even the masters had requested her doing their portraits from time to time. Though her father was of limited means and barely made the title of lesser lord, Jess understood that he was a renowned artist himself, and such was how he maintained his family income with so little land to his name.

Regardless, Elica’s future was assured as a portraitist. Her noble rank would no doubt grant her access even to the royal residences, should she gain sufficient renown. Petite and gentle, with a warm smile and friendly eyes, she was not without suitors either.

Jess filled her belly and chatted with her friends, enjoying the moment, forging a sweet memory to savor like many others, before catching Alex’s gaze, so much conveyed without a word.

He shook his head and smiled. “No worries, Jess. We’ll be fine.”

Jess nodded. “So it is today, then?”

Alex nodded back. “We’ve just readied our supplies and will be heading to our mounts just after breakfast. The weather, as you know, is perfect. With thick woolen cloaks and the saddle blankets, we will be fine, even sleeping under the stars."

Jacob glanced his way and sighed. “You know it’s a wild goose chase, of course? A long summer is not an eternal one. Everyone just gets so drunk when they join in the revels that the days tend to blur together.” His lips curled into a teasing smile. “Admit it. You just want to ride across the countryside with your lover beside you, feeling as important as any archmage, matters of grave arcane import needing your brilliance to resolve.”

Jera frowned. “We’re very serious, Jacob, and as you should know, not everyone joins the Squires’ crazy drunken revels. Plenty of the more daring boys and girls, certainly, and you know half of them are betrothed to their lovers in all but name, much like you and Malek.”

Jacob smirked at that, though his gaze for Malek, jesting at that moment with Raphael, was filled with heartbreaking tenderness Jess couldn’t help but be touched by.

Jacob bowed his head. “Point to you, Jera. Not everyone drinks like a fish, like me and my Squire do. But still, headaches aside, I have a hard time believing that this is anything but an excuse for you two to enjoy the countryside together.”

Jera sneaked a glance at her beau before flushing and smiling. “All right,” she whispered, Alex blinking in surprise. “I have my doubts, but I’m excited just to make the journey, to see if we make some fantastic discovery, and of course, I will have my Alex by my side.”

Alex smiled happily as Jera leaned into him. “I love the thought of escaping for a bit and savoring some time together, just our band under the stars, I admit it, Jera. But I really do think we’ll make some fascinating discoveries. And don’t worry, my friends. If I actually uncover the linchpin of this wondrous enchantment, I promise to do nothing to endanger it. And as to the bad weather we spoke of? Even the mildest of storms only hit those plains once a year, and for most of Erovering, it's closer to never. We'll be fine."

Jera smiled. “It will be a wonderful trip to the countryside, and the fact that most of our friends are themselves couples makes things awfully convenient, no?”

Alex nodded. “It does indeed. The fact that we are doing this under our own initiative does add to the spice.”

Jera smirked. “A good thing we were able to talk our teachers into a few days' grace to pursue our own studies.”

Jess laughed at that. “Good for you, Jera. I would have just cut class. Not that I bother much with classes anyway. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure what classes I have this semester. I think it’s been awhile since I bothered with that sort of thing.”

Malek grinned. “It’s true. She just looks for a room with a softly speaking teacher, finds a comfortable seat underneath a warm puddle of sunlight, and takes a nap. It’s pure coincidence that two of the classes she sleeps through are actually assigned.”

A number of her friends burst into laughter at that. Jess, though slightly embarrassed, couldn’t help smiling in turn, buoyed by the affection they all had for one another, all of them embracing the ebb and flow of lunchtime banter. Sometime later, Jess found herself gazing at Jera’s beautifully coiffed hair, struck with sudden inspiration.

Her hand of its own accord reached into her own ebony locks, pulling out a delicate seedling of ash, new leaves the color of flashing emeralds, carefully putting it in an awed Jera’s lighter brown curls.

“Saint’s fire, you’ve had that seedling in your hair all this time?” Malek’s eyes crinkled in bemusement.

Jess shrugged. “I guess so.”

Alex blinked, gazing from one to the other. “Jess?”

“Yes Alex?”

“Why did you just put an ash seedling in my beau’s hair?”

Jess grinned. “A promise I made. Doesn’t it look nice?”

Alex blinked and frowned, shaking his head. “Strangely enough, it does. It looks almost elegant, with that splash of green in the heart of her braid.”

Jera trilled a laugh when Josie pulled out a hand mirror Jess was amazed to see her friend carrying. “Because you never know, Jessie,” she explained as Jera gave a slow nod.

“Strangely enough, I feel like I was crowned. All right, Jess, I give up. Why did you put this seedling in my hair?”

“I made a promise,” Jess explained. “I promised the ash tree who sacrificed his limbs for our cause that I would plant at least one of his seedlings. And when I think of the adventure you two are about to embrace, I can’t help but feel that it belongs with you.”

Jera’s brow furrowed. “Jess, I don’t know anything about tending any plants, save pruning my mother’s roses.”

Jess winked. “You’ll be a natural. Just, when you feel it fall out, you’ll know you found the right spot. If you think to plant it several inches in the soil and sprinkle some water atop it, that would be an added blessing but, well, not absolutely necessary, if you sort of forget to.”

Jera looked a bit hesitant, but Alex of all people was nodding enthusiastically. “Of course we will. This is actually an excellent opportunity for us. We can study a Druidic working, even as it manifests itself. For all that we adhere to the elementalist tradition, we can still observe, note, and learn from other disciplines of magic, no matter that half the scholars at this school refuse to believe that any art save elementalism has ever held sway.”

His intent gaze locked upon Jera’s. She flushed and nodded her head. “All right. Only for you guys will I agree to this.” She flashed an embarrassed smile. “The leaves are pretty, but I still feel a bit silly.”

Jess sighed, feeling curiously relieved. “Thank you, Jera, I sort of forgot I even had that seedling on me.”

Jera frowned. “Your hair looks pretty well braided for someone who forgot to comb it.” Soft lips teased into an evil grin.

Jess winced. “Sometimes I forget that sort of thing.”

Malek only smiled, rubbing her hair, both of them insisting upon seeing Alex and Jera off as they readied their horses at the stables, lost in animated conversation with their fellows, speaking of things Jess could barely understand, and she sensed from his sigh that Malek would have loved to join them. But he was a middling mage at best, unable to cast any advanced magics other than protective wards. A far cry from the well-versed, brilliant students that comprised Alex’s coterie.

One of whom was smiling at Jess so much that she felt her cheeks redden. Jess turned to look into a pair of brilliant green eyes. “Is it true what you said today?”

Jess blinked, gazing at a beautiful girl wearing a practical woolen dress cinched tight, split for riding, noting the bright red curls sticking out of her muffin cap. “Pardon me?”

A soft chuckle. “My name is Abella. I just transferred here to Highrock from the Royal Academy in Krona, and I found the breakfast conversation absolutely fascinating. Imagine a talking cat that can sense the quality of your breakfast fare.”

Jess blushed and grinned, feeling Abella's gaze linger on her Highrock uniform. “Yes, he has quite a way with beans. Among other things.”

“Such as?”

“Such as what?”

Gentle laughter. “What else is your cat good for?”

Jess grinned. “Brilliant conversation, sage wit, the ability to instantly put me back in my place when my head gets too big for my shoulders; anything you could want in a talking cat, really.”

Abella’s eyes twinkled merrily, lips all but begging to be kissed. Jess swallowed.

“Such a fascinating cat. Do you know what, Jessica? I think I would very much like to meet this mysterious cat firsthand.” She winked. “It would make a wonderful paper to send back to the Royal Academy.”

Jess chuckled. “Sadly, only I can see him, but you’re more than welcome to come to my quarters and make a more thorough investigation, if you’d like.”

The nearby gentle murmur of conversation drew to a halt. Multiple eyes gazing curiously Jess’s way. Some openly smiling.

Jess felt her cheeks grow hot. Why the heck had she said that aloud?

Abella gave a playful frown, then nodded.

Jess swallowed, throat suddenly dry.

“I think I would like that, Jessica de Calenbry.” She turned to her silent companions. “There are far too many happy couples here. A new student sort of feels lonely, and people are so shy about pillow friends, outside of the capital.”

She grinned. “I like a bold girl. It’s refreshing. Well, I have a fascinating experiment to ready myself for. The idea of endless summer, and not a single idiot at my former college gave it more than a confused glance when I showed them Alex’s paper, so I just had to come investigate it for myself. I’m glad I did.” Her grin widened. Jess felt her heart skip a beat. “I look forward to a thorough investigation of your familiar when I return.”

Jess found herself in something of a daze as Alex, Jera, and a fascinating Abella prepared themselves for their journey along with a handful of other busy aspiring mages, Jess hugging her friends tightly before letting them go. Arbella gave Jess a final wink, laughter tinkling like silver bells as she took the lead, chatting animatedly with the student beside her as they rode off on their adventure.

“I hope Jera remembers to plant the seedling,” Jess sighed. “That poor thing has been without the kiss of soil for too long. My fault entirely.”

“I thought you didn’t remember our last mission?” Malek asked.

Jess shrugged. “I don’t, really, except I remember the feel of placing stout poles of ash into your waiting arms, and the promise I had made. Just one of many I have made to the trees giving of themselves so freely before our battles. Not that they ever insist. I just feel like it’s the right thing to do.”

Malek nodded, gazing at two of their closest friends as they shrank to specks in the distance. “They will be okay,” Malek declared.

Jess smiled. “I’m sure you’re right. Half of them look highly accomplished, much like Alex, the others look like they can barely navigate outside of a dusty tome, and all of them excited as the dickens. Though why the guards wouldn’t even acknowledge me when I greeted them, I don’t know.”

Malek shrugged. “It’s early, they have a headache, and don’t really want to be baby sitters or deal with students any more than they have to? Who cares, as long as they keep our friends safe.”

Jess nodded. “At least Alex’s friends would acknowledge me.”

Malek grinned. “And don’t think I missed the way Abella was smiling at you, almost as petite as Jera, and how fascinated she seemed, hearing you wax on about Twilight.”

Jess grinned. “I have a fascinating cat.”

Malek laughed. “And you’re beautiful, engaging, sometimes a bit silly, and I doubt Abella has any real idea about what it means to be a Squire of War.”

Jess sighed. “That’s probably for the best. Come on, Shieldbrother, the day is young. Let’s train our hearts out and be worthy of our ranks.”

And they did just that.

22

A yawning Jess, still tired from her training, stumbled free of cool linen sheets and pressed her palm to the knocking door. She blinked in surprise sensing Sable just beyond, quickly opening the door wide.

Beautiful dark eyes seemed to pierce her soul. The brooding arrogance that had been all too reminiscent of Mord's was now entirely gone, replaced by the tenderest of smiles. Yet what really struck Jess was that there was no longer any nursemaid, nor was Sable gazing at the baby she now held so close to her with anything but love.

Jess felt a curious lightness to her chest. Of course she had always suspected, but there could be no doubt. Little Julia was Sable's own.

Yet the biggest surprise of all was seeing Liam by Sable's side, boyish features gazing at mother and child so protectively. So much conveyed with the solemn glance Liam shared with Jess, his gaze embarrassed and resolute both.

Jess smiled, understanding at once. "You're a good man, Liam. We'll miss you if you decide to go, but I'd be the last to counsel you to deny your heart."

Liam's gentle features warmed into the sweetest of smiles. “Thank you for understanding, Jess. I was hoping that you of all people would understand, considering everything that has happened.”

Then it was Jess's turn to look away, embarrassed. “The truth is, Liam, regarding our last mission, where you had been so grievously injured, I hardly remember a thing. I'm just pleased to see Sable looking so happy. Free of the weight that had burdened her when first we met.”

Sable's warm smile matched Liam's, a brave tear trickling from one eye. "I owe you so much, Jess. And I mean far more than just your timely intervention with Ubel. You saved my life against hideous odds, and you don't even remember. Ah, the Fates play their games."

Gently, she stroked Jess's cheek. "I came so close to making the most horrific of mistakes. And when I finally realized it, I was nearly killed when I tried to make things right. Then you... Mord... Malek." She shook her head, gently wiping away a tear against Liam's tabard, troubled not at all by the armor underneath that her partner openly wore. "I was trapped in nightmare, that's all I will say on it. It's a blessing, perhaps, that you no longer remember it."

She took a deep breath, cheek pressed to her cooing daughter. "And in that horror, my soul was seared with the most beautiful and awful of truths. Nothing matters more than one's own children. No sacrifice is too great to save them, and no promise of power could ever match their worth.”

Jess felt a warm presence settle himself upon her shoulder. “Sensing the worth of another soul. Choosing the life of her daughter over power, even as it put her own life in peril.” Sapphire eyes locked with Jess's own. “Bless this one, my mistress. As dark a path as she once strode, when the irredeemable choice was before her... love, not power, was her resolution.” Twilight sighed. “Sable is everything the one who failed you is not.”

Not even knowing why she did it, Jess found her hand gently caressing a trembling Sable's brow. “Go with the Goddess, Sable. May the woods keep you safe on your journeys. May you and your child always find safety in the times to come.”

Pale-faced and shaking, Sable bowed her head.

Liam was gazing at Jess in awe. “Jess, what did you just say?”

Jess shrugged. "I'm not even sure, Liam. I guess I just wished you all a safe journey, wherever the currents of life take you."

Liam's face lit up in a pleased grin. “A blessing from the last Druid. Thank you, Jess. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.” He held Sable close, even as a dumbstruck Jess gazed on, at a loss for words. “She was there for me, you know. When I was in the infirmary, lost in the most excruciating of agonies, she was there. I don't even know why. I had only seen her in passing once before, but, well, I instantly felt a connection to her, and she to me.”

Liam smiled, gently kissing a trembling Sable's brow. “For days, while I was healing, writhing as often as not between the most painful of white mage castings as they fought to save my hand and leg, she was there.” Liam sighed. “I poured my heart out to her. My hopes, my dreams, and for some strange reason, she shared her story with me as well.”

Sable stroked his jaw. “And you won't tell a soul.”

Intent blue eyes gazed deeply into her own. “Not a one. I give you my heart, and I take your burden, because that's what it means to love.”

Jess flushed and looked away, blinking back tears, knowing she had just witnessed something profound. She would miss Liam, a ray of innocence in a world jaded and dark, but perhaps this was for the best. Just looking at the glance they shared, Jess knew that to be so.

“I'm glad you two found each other.”

Sable nodded. “We're leaving, Jess. Don't ask where. The less who know, the better. But we're leaving for someplace where hopefully we will be safe.” Gentle eyes turned solemn and sad. “Ubel made it all too clear that Julia isn’t safe, even here. And the counsel you gave me, painful as it was to hear, is the absolute truth. The only way we will ever be free of peril, either of us, is if our enemies can never find us, no matter how hard they search.”

A trembling hand touch Jess’s cheek. “A storm is coming, Jess. There is so much I can't say, not without inviting the darkest of curses upon my already stained soul. But if I were to say anything, it would be... tread carefully. More serpents than you can imagine lie hidden in the rushes." She flashed a rueful smile. "Before I forget, there is something I want you to have. Something that Liam and I both want you to have." She handed Jess a slim leather covered volume, with pages of finest vellum. Jess whistled and shook her head, awed and grateful.

“Sable, I don't know what to say. I don’t know you nearly as well as I would like, for all that I think we could be fast friends, and still you would give me such a priceless gift? I know such tomes are expensive...”

Liam chuckled. “Stories of wonder and magic, flights of fantasy to put a smile on your face, wonderful for dispelling the gloom of difficult days. It cost a pretty penny, but when I told the white mage tending me who it was for, he insisted on selling the tome I loved to borrow from him at cost.” Liam shrugged. “Just because you hardly remember the battle at a certain fallen keep doesn't mean everyone else has forgotten, and for all that Eloquin demands we hold our tongues, there were several delirious Squires and Aspirants dosed with poppy for their pain making it quite clear whose banner they would follow to the gates of Hell.”

Jess lowered her head, humbled by the intensity of his gaze. “You saved us, Jess. Springing those traps, allowing Eloquin and the Squires to charge, and boy did he butcher those bastards before those dark mages cast their spells. And when you three slammed into those Velheim knights, valiantly holding off from being swarmed just long enough for Hyve to redeem himself...”

Liam shuddered. “Even as I lay screaming upon the ground, death and pain my only companions, I bore witness. Honestly, I thought those were my final moments, and I was determined to blaze it all upon my mind's eye. And still, you went back. You, Mord, and Malek; determined to free even the captives trapped within the keep, to beard the lion in his den, even when Eloquin said you were an idiot. And it was then that I blacked out at last, only to awaken and find the girl of my dreams gazing down at me, even as the healers tended to her and her child.”

Sable smiled. “To me it was as if, after finally gazing at the reflection of my life, accepting the horror of what I had almost done, the Goddess loved me enough to shine a light of hope into my life.” She shuddered, squeezing Liam's hand. “He is my paladin, I think. He is my redemption.”

Jess trembled at those words. Swallowing, forcing herself to speak. “Will you be all right?”

This time Sable flashed a smile both jaded and bemused. “Don't worry, Jess. Something woke up inside me this past week, but I will never play the fool. Our enemies did not die easy, and they did not die poor. I managed to wrest Graslig's purse, even as we fled.” Intent eyes blazed into her own. “It was filled to bursting not with silver, but gold.”

Jess blinked. Speechless. Even a few gold crowns could buy a man a nice sized piece of fertile land complete with buildings, crops, and livestock. A hundred gold would allow a border lord to equip a full score of his best soldiers as knights in all but name; with full suits of armor, warhorses, and weaponry. Or such wealth could allow a prudent lord a comfortable life for years, even in the capital, so long as he didn't gamble.

Liam nodded. "We've split the gold between us, so robbing us is no simple matter." His benevolent smile turned bleak and hard. "And no petty group of thieves will find me an easy target, as you know, dearest Jess."

And that Jess did. He might have had the gentlest of souls, but Liam was skilled in blade and battlemagics both, and Eloquin would never have agreed to Squire him so late in his studies, if he were not exceedingly gifted.

Jess nodded, feeling fiercely proud of her friend. “You both are sacrificing power for love.”

Liam shrugged. “That's one way of looking at it. But honestly, Jess, the horror of that first battle? I don't, well, I don't think the life of a Squire is what I was put upon Dawn for.” His features softened, holding Sable close. “Maybe she is why I am here. Not to be a warrior, but rather, a husband. A father.”

Sable's determined features eased into the gentlest of smiles as Liam kissed her. “It's a big world, Jess. Somehow, Liam and I are going to find our way.”

Jess bowed her head. "May your journey be safe, and the memories you share happy ones."

Final hugs were exchanged, Jess softly kissing little Julia's cheeks, somehow knowing that she would never hear from any of them again. And if such prudence kept them safe, then she was happy for them.

Jess frowned, forcing herself to say it. For all that she despised his arrogance, Sable was his sister. “What about Mord?”

Sable shrugged. “I think he understands. Even if he is determined to proceed with one foot in darkness and the other clean of sin, he knows that I don't dare to play the horrid games our family favors ever again.” Her expression turned wistful. “I know he loves me in his own way. Fiercely. As furious as he is to lose me, I know in his heart he wants to keep Julia safe, just as much as I do.”

With those final words, her newest friends left, and Jess gazed sadly down the corridor long after they were gone.

She turned to gaze at her familiar, grooming himself upon her shoulder. “Twilight?”

Her cat sighed, brooding only a few moments, before nodding. “Very well, Jess. I will see them safely off to wherever they are going to call home. I might be gone a few days, so please, try to stay out of trouble.”

Jess grinned, holding her purring familiar close. “Ubel’s made it clear she is in the sights of those out for her child’s blood. Knowing you will be there to guide her away from trouble, even if she can’t sense exactly why she might take a particular path, means a lot to me. Thank you, Twilight.”

Twilight chuckled softly. “One of the very few ways I dare to act upon the denizens of mundus.” Sapphire eyes locked upon her own, brilliant in their intensity. “It is a skill I mastered long ago, guiding young couples to places of safety in times of peril.”

Jess blinked and shuddered, realizing that there was so much she didn’t know about her beloved familiar, so very many questions she never got around to asking. She squinted suddenly straining eyes, cursing softly. Her familiar was already gone.

She chuckled softly to herself, determined to have a relaxing dinner with Malek and a shower afterwards, free of dyed hair at last. And things went just as she had planned. Her friend’s company sweet, the fish and lamb chops excellent, her bath in the company of fellow noble ladies everything she could hope for after hours of sweating on the training grounds, and no glowering Ubel or his cronies anywhere in sight. Of course, after his threats the day before, she went nowhere unarmed, as was every girl’s right.

Jess was in high spirits when she opened the door to her quarters, humming contentedly to herself as she changed into far more comfortable attire, gazing fondly at her inviting bed, ready to turn in for the night.

It was then that she caught sight of the letter slipped under her door.

Curious, she picked it up, sensing no trace of anything untoward, excited to see the Calenbry seal upon it.

She quickly tore it open, delighting in reading of her family's daily happenings back at the manor.

It was towards the end of the letter that her happy smile slowly morphed into an expression of disbelief, understanding at last the true point of her mother's correspondence.

“I will claim you, Jessica. Body and soul.” Mord's hot words resonated through her once more. Jess felt her heart pounding against her chest, recalling his possessive smile.

It was like facing men upon the field of battle as they unsheathed their bitter sharp swords. Yet now there was no dark elation to counter the fear. All she felt twisting through her guts was mounting dread.

Jess gripped the tome Sable had so thoughtfully gifted her with, imagining stories bold and beautiful within, wishing she could somehow escape between those pages.

Her parents weren't just insinuating about the prospects of a Plaga alliance, an arranged marriage to prepare for, some vague time in the future.

No.

The Plaga Clan had asked for a specific date.

And her mother had given one. Immediately after Jess graduated from Highrock, or was expelled from school.

Jessica's gamble, telling her family nothing of how utterly horrific Mord had been during her first year so she wouldn't be forced to leave, had just resulted in the worst of all possible outcomes. She wasn't in danger of just losing her freedom and being forced home, but of becoming little more than Mord's plaything, to use and abuse as he saw fit. His victory over her would then be absolute and utter.

“Gods above, Twilight, what do I do?” Jess blinked, realizing only as she said the words that her familiar was long gone, making sure Sable could safely flee to a land far away from the twisted machinations of her family and their bitter allies, machinations that could have killed Sable and her daughter both.

A clan that now sought to claim Jess as their prize.

Jess turned to peer at the woman gazing back at her from the mirror, looking so vulnerable with her wide blue eyes, brilliant gold locks streaming down her shoulders framing a face far too innocent, far too gentle to have embraced all the horrors of battle, not at all like the warrior she knew herself to be.

She grimaced and looked away, always uncomfortable with her reflection, shamed by the frightened girl hiding beneath all her masks.

She curled up in her bed then, soft and snug, propping herself up with down-stuffed pillows, clasping Sable’s beautiful gift, quickly losing herself in stories filled with magic and wonder, letting herself escape in sweet dreams of being counted among the most legendary of heroes, an adventurer able to Delve straight into living story and twist those yarns into reality, returning once more with wondrous prizes and fantastic tales of all they had seen and done.

She closed her eyes, eager to slip into the sweetest of dreams, faerie tales full of flying castles, magic carpets, sage wizards and talking dragons. Far away from the furious shouts and cries of desperate battle, the jolt of her mace pounding in helmets, the jar of her saber ripping through exposed throats, the stench of fear and blood, the screams of dying men, their desperate eyes piercing her soul, that normally haunted her sleep.

Most of all she sought to escape the cruel laughter and mocking smile of the man determined to break her at any cost. A man who would see her strung up in chains, just like the ones she had freed so many slaves from over an endless Summer riding under Eloquin's black banner, embracing the High Hunt as a fearless Squire of War. How bitter it was to know she would end those days of dark glory as little better than a slave herself, owned by a sadist who had always hungered for her tears, her submission, at any cost.

23

Dream at last she did, curious and pleasant. It was not a faerie tale, however, but the rustling of tiny branches, leaves unfurling in the sun.

She sensed them, then. The smiling faces of onlookers gazing at her with awe as she reached out for the heavens, unfurling her limbs, blossoming beneath heaven’s gentle gaze.

Hushed murmurs caressed her limbs as the youths decided to set up camp but feet from her bowers, animated voices she could feel crackling with excitement, awed by the most sacred of arts.

Flasks of liquid were drunk, and so quickly did chatter fall to slumber, free of the furious couplings she sensed from so many animals nearby.

Time passed, and she felt the quiet tread of footsteps, two individuals not given in to slumber’s promise.

Muffled cries and grunts.

The crack of wooden clubs against groggy flesh, cries quickly muffled, sleepy excitement replaced with fear.

The pair of hulking figures methodically clubbing and restraining all the tree’s admirers, even the girl who had so carefully planted and watered her, but hours before.

A single flash of light. One of the two figures shouts, pounding down with bone cracking force. A struggling figure crumples to the ground, and is still.

Choked sobs. “Alex!”

Mounts untied, stumbling figures, hands bound, mouths muffled, forced to ride.

Harsh calls, and two other figures are sensed, one radiating the strangest of auras, all of them conversing in soft murmurs as they make their way north at a careful clip.

“Jess!”

Jess awoke with a cry, heart racing in panic.

Alex, Jera, the entire expedition. Betrayed and held captive, their captors heading for the Velheim border at that very moment, and she didn’t even know if poor Alex was dead or alive, only that he had been viciously clubbed.

Assuming there had been any truth to it, assuming it hadn’t all been a dream.

“Twilight?”

But he was gone. Providing safe passage for a young family in desperate need.

Jess was on her own.

“As if there was any choice other than to take it seriously. By all the hells!’

Swallowing down her panic, she forced trembling hands to still. Quilted gambeson, shirt of mail, steel breastplate and helm almost as fine as the ones she was reported to have lost, in a mission that she couldn’t even remember. And it didn’t matter. Not now.

Boots of dead tanned leather, reinforced with iron greaves. Plated gauntlets last of all, after longsword strapped to back, saber and mace secured to her belt, and she was phased not at all by the looks she received dashing down the hallways, racing for her commander’s quarters. But first she slammed her palm against her shieldbrother’s door, the portal lurching open, lock popped effortlessly, no wood able to bar her entrance.

Groggy eyes met hers. Alarm, outrage, then grave concern flitting across her shieldbrother's features as a startled Jacob hid under the covers. “Jess? What’s going on?”

“It’s Jera and Alex! It was a trap! The guards took them captive and met with others. they are heading for the Velheim border even now!”

Malek frowned. “Jess, are you sure? Bloody hells, of course you are, or you wouldn’t be kitted up and in a panic, breaking down my door, no less.”

“Malek, please. We have no time!”

He grimaced and nodded. “Get going, Jess. Reach Eloquin if you can. I will kit up and get Neal and the others. Whoever is willing to come.”

Jess trembled with relief. “Thank you, shieldbrother.”

He flashed a bleak smile. “I don’t suppose you know where the hell we are going? It’s not like brilliant Alex bothered to inform the less talented mages that attend his classes.”

Jess nodded. “Don’t worry, I can find the tree.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Yes. Jera still has a leaf in her hair. I can find her as well. Count on it.”

Malek scowled. “Jess?”

“No time!” And as fast as she had ever run, oblivious to the panicked stares sent her way, Jess ran for Commander Eloquin’s private rooms, pounding his door as hard as she could.

Almost as fast as she could blink, the door lurched open, and she was sent spinning, arm wrapped behind her, Eloquin’s powerful frame holding her tight

By all the gods. So potent. So fast.

And he caught her gaze then, unguarded, Jess losing herself in those fascinating, terrible ice blue eyes. Her lips hungered for that which she could never have.

Blushing, she turned away, even as Eloquin eased his warrior’s grip, gently stepping back.

“Report, Calenbry.” His voice, dryly amused, and Jess dare not look at the woman covering herself in the chamber beyond, lest she and Lady Vaila both die of embarrassment on the spot.

“It’s Alex, Jera, their band of friends. They’ve been captured, sir. Betrayed by their guards. Even now they have been bound and muffled, heading towards the Velheim border as we speak!”

Eloquin’s gaze pinned Jess to the spot. Terror, not desire, coursed through her veins now.

“Explain.”

Jess swallowed, forced herself to speak. “Alex thinks we are trapped in eternal summer. He went north, where he thinks one of the linchpins is to be found...”

“Bloody fool!”

Jess flinched. “He… he and his friends wanted to make an expedition of it. Not to tamper with it, he’s too smart for that. But to study it. To understand it. Honestly, sir, I don’t even think Jera believes there is any truth to that, we all just drink too damn much and all the days blur together and none of the professors bother with weekends, every day is training and studying unless you’re like me, and...”

“Silence, Calenbry.”

Jess swallowed and stilled her tongue.

“Calm yourself. Clear and concise. Where did this happen?”

“A day’s journey north, sir. They set up camp by the ash tree Jera planted, and they were ambushed and captured by their own guards.”

Eloquin frowned. “And how do you know all this?”

Jess swallowed, staring at her boots. “I dreamed I was the seedling Jera had planted for me. I grew into a tree, and everyone was excited to see me blossom so fast, so they set up camp, and since I was the tree and they were right by me, well, I sensed what had happened.”

Eloquin frowned. “This is a stretch, even for you, Calenbry.”

Jess swallowed, heart racing. “I know, sir.”

A breathless pause. “Are you certain?”

Silence.

“Calenbry!”

“No sir,” Jess whispered. “Not completely. But I am half certain. And if I am right? We can save almost a dozen lives. The lives of my friends.”

Eloquin flashed a cold smile. “And if you are wrong, it is but a few days hard training through brush and woodlands for your fellow Squires.”

Jess nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, sir.”

Eloquin nodded. “You made the right call. But we will do this correctly. I see you are fully kitted, save for back and limb plates of cuir bouilli.”

Jess nodded.

“You will now calmly and quickly go to each Squire’s quarters and tell them we have a meeting at the stables, to equip themselves fully and come with haste. You will take this wing, I will take the one below. Am I correct in assuming that Malek has already informed Neal?”

Jess saluted. “He is doing so now.”

“Excellent. He knows the drill. Now get going, Calenbry, and bring the rest of your armaments to the stables. You can finish kitting up there.”

Jess swallowed. “Thank you, sir.”

His gaze hardened. “If you are right, we will have to fly like the wind if we are to intercept before Velheim steals a dozen of our most talented students. Get going!”

“Yes sir!” And Jess raced like the wind, knowing exactly where the Squire’s quarters were on that floor, paying no mind to who they were or were not sleeping with, stupefied expressions turning grim and serious as she explained the situation as quickly as she could, before darting off to the next room.

“And what is Mord’s toy doing about at this hour?”

Yellow-grey eyes glaring down at her from a pockmarked face, massive teeth showing in a feral smile.

Jess hissed and stepped back as Ubel seemed to step wholecloth out of the shadows.

Of course, that was impossible.

Odd, how dim and quiet the corridor Jess found herself in, the bustle of those few Squires she had awakened, kitting up as often as not with the help of their lovers, had faded to the softest of murmurs.

“I asked you a question, Plaga whore.”

Ubel. Hands squeezing the hilt of the messer strapped to his side. Glaring at her. So filled with malice and spite.

Jess’s hand coldly wrapped about the hilt of her saber.

Ubel snarled.

Good. He knew just how deadly she was with it.

Far too many people had died to that blade already, Jess striking in the draw as fast as most men could blink.

And Ubel’s blade and buckler were before her in the instant.

Jess hissed and stepped back.

“You aren’t the only one who's fast, Calenbry. Remember that.”

Jess flashed the coldest of smiles. “I am on Squires' business. That’s all you need to know. Unless, of course, you care to blacken your dagger for once, and do your master proud?”

Mocking laughter. “There are far more worthy causes than Eloquin to blacken one’s soul for, girl. You are a fool not to realize that.”

Jess forced a calming breath. “Than if you will not join us, I will be on my way.”

“You will keep your mouth shut!” Ubel snarled, “about things that do not concern you.”

Jess scowled. “I know you are playing dark, twisted games. You seem to assume that I care. As long as they don’t affect this school, I could care less what idiocy your clan dips its feet into. But if you threaten me again… one of us will fall.”

Her heart pounded even as she trembled with pent up fury, her saber ignored in favor of the longsword spun out of its split back sheath in an instant, blade held at angle overhead, the vom Tag guard perfect for cleaving into her foe in a heartbeat, her dread turning to blackest hate, a fierce desire to quench a nagging threat, once and for all.

Ubel laughed, discordant sound echoing oddly through the shadowy corridor. “Not nearly the terror I hope to inspire in a wench, but entertaining nonetheless. I see why Mord hungers for you. You will whelp strong get.” He flashed a mocking smile. “Very well. Play your games, Calenbry girl. If you mind your own affairs, I have no reason to slice your throat.”

Jess’s eyes widened, speechless with fury, even as Ubel spun about, re-sheathing his blade, laughter following his shadow.

“Jess, are you alright?”

Jess spun around, noting a concerned looking Erica, fully kitted already, gazing at Jess curiously before smiling, helping Jess to resheathe a longsword far, far easier to draw than put back into its specialized sheath.

“I am dying to know why you are practicing sword forms when we should be racing for the stables to hear Eloquin’s message.”

Jess grimaced, gazing toward Ubel, but he was long gone, the now brightly lit corridor quiet, as if he had never been there at all.

Jess frowned, shaking her head, panicked anxiety for her friends once more coming to the fore. “You’re right. We need to get down the stables on the double.”

“Jess, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Alex and Jera. All their friends. Dire peril,” was all Jess would say, saving her breath, making it down to the stables in time for a smiling Malek to help her finish kitting arms and back in plates of boiled rawhide, last minute preparations taken care of even as Eloquin made his presence known, measuring each and every Squire present with his steely gaze.

“You have all been gathered here for the sake of our own. The king has not cried havoc, no missive demanding a dagger’s due has been scribed. Rather, it is for the sake of your own peers, your fellow classmates that you are here, and for no other reason. If you forsake this mission, no shame or censor will you receive. You may return to your quarters and suffer no repercussions. If you choose to embrace the call, do so only because your heart compels.”

Eloquin turned his gaze to Jess. She swallowed, throat dry, so many pairs of eyes focusing so intently upon her.

She cleared her throat. “Hello, brothers and sisters of the blade. Thank you for coming out at this hour, forsaking your bed’s siren call.”

Jess swallowed, looking for the right words.

Several Squires frowned.

Mortant, a dark-haired burly Squire, shook his head. “Spit it out, Jess. Why are we out here in the middle of the night? I, for one, have sweet company I’m eager to get back to, if this isn’t some dire emergency.”

Lucas smirked. “I know Sulia well enough, Mortant. She’s a kind girl, and she’ll be just as happy to see you tomorrow, so long as you have copper in your pocket and some sweets from the cook.”

Several Squires chuckled at this.

“Jess?” Neal’s voice. “It’s time to tell us what’s going on.”

Jess nodded, forcing herself to say what must be said. “I had a dream. I think, I think my friends are in trouble. Dire trouble. Alex, Jera, and almost a dozen of their friends, off on a wild lark to explore the edges of Summer. Their guards betrayed them. They are being forced towards Velheim’s border even as we speak.”

Neal frowned. “That’s bad, Jess. How sure are you of this?”

Jess grimaced. “Fifty-fifty. I could be a deluded fool, in which case, if you follow me, expect a wild goose chase for a few days and a flask of Calenbry Red for each of you by way of apology when we are done. But if I’m right, and we do nothing, we lose a dozen of our fellows, future battle mages of Erovering, to the hands of our enemies.”

“Bloody hells.” Malek whistled. “You know which side I’m on, Jess, drunken dream or no.” Without hesitation, Malek stepped behind her, hand on shoulder, showing his support.

Lucas frowned. “Wait a minute. You’re no mage, Jess. However damn impressive your knack with wood is, you’re no seer. And don’t start, Neal, I already know we owe her a hell of a lot more than a simple thank you. But still, how do you know all this, Jess?”

Jess swallowed. “When I was asleep, I dreamed I was a tree.”

Erica gazed at Jess, deadpan. “You know Jera and her friends are in trouble because you dreamed you were a tree?”

Jess shrugged. “Sort of. You know how I like to plant ash trees after we... you know.”

Mortant laughed. “Plant our ash spears in the hearts of whatever foes dare cross us? Poetic, if you ask me.”

Lucas nodded. “Damned poetic, that. All right, Jess, what’s the point?”

Jess shrugged. “The point is that I forgot I had a little seedling nestled in my hair. Nestled for days, thank goodness the little thing seemed content enough.”

More than a few Squires blinked and frowned at that.

“She’s a Druid, don’t look so bloody surprised,” Erica snapped, glaring at the few Squires grumbling already.

“Anyway, I thought it would be a good idea to give it to my friend Jera, to plant when she headed north. Wild-goose chase or no, the northlands have plenty of open plains and untilled soil perfect for an ash seedling.”

Neal frowned. “It’s pretty much abandoned because a lot of it is scrubland, far too arid for most crops, with raiders no one wants to admit crossing over and striking at will.” He flashed a cold smile. “At least such was the case before we came along. Only the Calenbry barony is densely populated this far north; your family’s lands being surprisingly fertile, and as your father is an excellent tactician who trains his serfs and freemen well, banditry doesn’t happen northeast of us, like it does dead north.”

“True,” Malek said. “Even the border lords credit less frequent incursions to Arthur keeping his territory so secure. Their manors are outright keeps, that far north, so raiders just pass them by, and bandits daring Calenbry lands further in end up dead, like as not, once word reaches the baron that raiders are nibbling at his serf’s heels. He considers it good practice for his pike levies, once he corrals slavers to the spot of his choosing.” He sighed. “I hope he lets Jess and I join in, next time we visit, if any fools dare to trespass.”

Erica grinned. “He was our master’s battle-brother, not that long ago.” This said with a bow to their commander.

“That land was dead, just a generation ago. Interesting how the soil only springs to life when the Calenbry Clan claims it,” murmured one of the quieter Squires.

“We are getting off topic.” Everyone stood at attention when Eloquin spoke. “Calenbry, finish your report.”

“Yes sir. Anyway, when I went to sleep yesterday afternoon, I dreamed I was a tree. The very tree Jera planted. I grew rather tall, overseeing Jera and her friends as they, well, admired me. They set up camp early, and somehow two men were able to club and bind each of them before they could react, and all of these students were trained in at least basic defensive magics, from what Alex and Jera have both told me! So something allowed them to get a drop on a dozen student mages.”

Mortant scowled. “And you know all this because Jera planted you. In your dream. Wherein you grew to full size in what, a day? Jess, honest to goodness, are you sure this is no dream? Have you been drinking absinthe again? You know you’re not supposed to touch it after the revels.”

Jess shook her head. “Nothing but water passed my lips last night.”

Erica nodded. “That’s good enough for me, Jess. However crazy the magic, if you sensed our friends in danger, we’d be lower than dirt, if we didn’t try to save them.”

Neal caught Jess’s gaze. “Let’s consider the obvious solution right before our faces before we panic. Did we check their rooms? Dare I say it, did we check our revel hall? We all know various students from time to time sneak in and sample drinks best left to those forged in the fury of battle. And if Alex and his beau were eager to embrace the mage’s equivalent of a revel...”

Jess felt her cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and shame. She hadn’t even thought to check, so compelled by her dream as she had been, neither rooms nor revel hall.

“Both are clear.” Eloquin’s voice. Ever the pragmatist, of course he had checked. Still, Jess knew she was a fool not to have checked before she had spouted anything about her odd dream to anyone.

Lucas nodded. “That’s good enough for me. Eloquin’s taking this seriously, and we checked the obvious spots that would have made us look like fools, had we not. But Jess, even if you have some mystic connection to this sprout Jera planted...”

“It’s a tree now.”

Lucas grinned. “Impressive, if true. Anyway, unless those students are near the tree, how will we find them once we arrive at the spot?”

A number of curious frowns were sent Jess’s way.

Jess smiled. “My ash is smart, for a tree. She dropped leaves upon their heads. They all have my mark. I will know when we get close.”

Malek whistled even as her friends just stared. “Impressive, Jess. Odd, but impressive.”

Mortant snorted. “Assuming this isn’t us all just running around like a herd of drunk jackasses. But the hell with it. I’m in.”

“As am I.” Neal dipped his head to Jess as, one by one, more than half the band pounded fist to chest. The same two score as had blackened their daggers every time Eloquin informed them of the king’s missives, riding under Eloquin's banner for a cause greater than themselves.

This time, they were riding for the sake of their friends.

Jess felt a fierce sense of pride as Eloquin dipped his head to her. “This is your mission, Jess. Neal will be your second. Lead our troops until contact is made, or I say otherwise. Then we will do reconnaissance and plan our next move from there.”

“Yes sir!” The band saluted, Jess all but trembling with excitement as she checked Mercy’s hocks and the fitting of her cantilevered saddle, finding her horse in good spirits, as restless to get moving as Jess herself was.

Jess fed her an apple, patting her side. “Let’s find our friends, Mercy.”

Securing weapons to saddle, checking their draw, she gave a satisfied nod, turning to Neal, earning a smile in turn. “We are ready to go, Jess. You take the lead.”

Nodding, Jess did so, Malek and Neal riding by her side as they left school grounds, the nighttime breeze caressing her skin as they made their way north at a good clip, stars twinkling in the heavens above.

Jess lost herself in the flow of Mercy’s movements, the road they followed free of obstruction or bramble, moon shining brilliantly down upon them all.

Her gut twisted in anxious knots, dreading not knowing the fate of her friends.

“Jess?” Her shieldbrother, soft brown eyes filled with such concern. “It will be okay, you’ll see.”

Jess could manage only a tight grimace in return, knowing Malek was equally worried, both of them on a desperate race, hoping more than delusions led them.

Hours passed uneventfully, and as the long night bled with the first rays of the crimson sun, more than one Squire could be heard muttering about the folly of chasing wild dreams.

Jess grimaced and pressed on, turning abruptly left, off the road they followed.

“Through here,” she said breathlessly, pointing to an impenetrably thick patch of forest, hostile to more than a single person squeezing through, let alone a mount and her rider.

Lucas frowned. “You’re kidding, right, Jess? Those trees are so closely pressed together there’s no way...” The young Squire paled and gasped, frowning at Neal. “You saw that, right? There is no way she could twist into the branches like that.”

Neal smirked. “The trail looks clear enough to me.”

Lucas swallowed. “That path wasn’t there five seconds before, and you know it.”

Jess glared at her friends. “Lucas, quit worrying about inconsequentials and come on! You know we are losing time.”

Lucas grimaced, shaking his head, but clopping behind Jess nonetheless. “You would think that after fighting beside a Druid all summer, I would be used to this. It still feels unnatural,” he murmured.

Jess smirked, gazing at the rich leafy canopy high overhead, immersed in the trill of birdsong, the rustle of leaves. “What could possibly be more natural than this?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the natural order of things? The blessings of stability promised by the gods that allows mathematical disciplines to flourish? I could discuss such things with you better if you weren’t always skipping classes.”

Jess chuckled softly, amused by Lucas’s patter, allowing her at least a few moment’s peace from the terrible anxiety for her friends that only grew as time went on.

The soft plodding steps of horses making their way along forest paths free of root and stone was slowly replaced with the crack of a whip. The burble of the brook they passed echoing like the screams of desperate students being held down for horrific sacrifice.

Jess shuddered and shook away the awful reverie, gazing into the wide-eyed countenance of her friends. “We have to move faster!” Her voice was raw, nearing the edge of panic.

She knew they were running out of time.

“Control, Calenbry.” Eloquin’s powerful voice. Her commander, a man whose regard was more precious than gold.

Jess swallowed, jerking her head. “We are running out of time,” she whispered.

Eloquin’s features hardened. “We will do what needs to be done. Play not the fool, no matter how our enemies seek to bait and goad.”

Jess squeezed her eyes shut. These were not pawns on the board.

They were her friends, and they were dying.

“Jess.”

The thick canopy overhead began to rustle its agitation.

Her fellows’ disciplined silence broke into soft murmurs as screams Jess had felt rippling in her gut could at last be heard.

Screams, and something worse.

The shrieking howl of the wind.

“Calenbry!” Eloquin’s icy blue gaze locked upon her own.

“You are no fool, Calenbry. Don’t play one now!”

Her heart lurched with panic and relief in equal, awful measure.

The forest had begun to thin.

Lips pressed tight for all she would lose.

A brotherhood she would never have the likes of again.

A single pained glance shared with her closest friend.

Malek grimaced and nodded. “I have your back, Jess. Always.”

Jess turned about, shouting for all she was worth, knowing she had to be quick, Eloquin already knowing the order that must be given.

“Our friends are just ahead! Trap or no, I am going to save them. Follow me only if you dare!

“Jess!” Eloquin’s voice cracked through the air. Chilling her to the quick.

Jera’s soft smile, Alex gazing at her so fondly as he held her close, the pair blazed within her mind.

“You will halt, Calenbry. That’s an order!”

Everything, thrown away in a heartbeat. And it mattered not.

Not if she would ever face her reflection again.

“Come, dogs of war who dare! Let us show those Velheim cowards the price they pay, kidnapping Highrock’s own!”

“You will halt, that’s an order!”

And Jess howled with fury and bitterest regret, exploding through thickest underbrush, gasping as she beheld the vast, windswept planes spreading off endlessly before her, the tiny, desperately struggling figures being led to an altar. The circle of hooded men, one holding a dagger up high even as a score of Velheim lancers watched on.

And the shrieking howls of the blackest storm she had ever seen assaulted her ears. Miles away, kissing the horizon of the windswept plains with utter darkness, it was coming in fast.

24

By all the gods!”

Malek, by her side as always, and how her heart soared, even while nauseous with dread.

“The captured students are below!” Jess shrieked. “Twenty lancers and three black mages guard them. They are going to sacrifice our friends! I will lead the vanguard. Join me if you dare, brothers of the sword!”

And Jess turned about just as Neal and Lucas burst from cover, outrage turning to horror as they gazed at the sight below. Erica but an instant behind, paling at the sight. Others emerging just behind.

No more time.

She dare not waste a second.

“For king and Crown, we are his Hounds of Hell!” Jess roared, even as she charged.

And time seemed to stretch. Her destrier’s measured pace of hours turning near instantly into a flat-out charge.

Estoc unsheathed in an instant, Jess riding high on her mount, tilting forward, the thinnest round shield shivering with all the power of the forest, her deadly estoc braced in tierce, ready to deliver angled death once more.

“Kill them, the barrier must fall!” A far-off voice, accent thick and guttural.

Hateful yellow eyes in a face shadowed by ebony robes glowered at Jess, black dagger falling with a guttural curse.

Jess felt the explosion of foulest magics.

Recognized the scream of the girl who had just been stabbed in her guts, spitting up blood even as bright green eyes locked upon Jess’s own, from so damned far away.

Abella. Red curly hair billowing in the breeze, her gaze one of agony as she writhed and screamed, the brutal man atop of her sawing his blade. Sawing it with savage fury, laughing as he cut.

A scream tore through the vast planes, a shriek as great as the howling storm approaching even now. And Jess felt something inside her die.

Blackest fury rising from the ashes, eyes tinged with crimson hate.

Charging lances but feet away, guttural curses promising her death.

She looked into the hostile gaze of the lead lancer seeking to pierce her heart, smiled as he choked and gasped, her estoc plunging through his neck as his own lance tore from fingertips so violently it cartwheeled overhead, Jess lurching back on her saddle and twisting away, her estoc ripping free of the stiffened lancer, near decapitating him as he toppled off his horse in a fountain of blood.

Malek slamming into a neighboring charger, his foe dismounted with a scream, bloody sword pulled free of his foe’s ruptured hauberk.

“Pivot and turn!”

Mercy spun about to desperate heels even as Abella continued to shriek and sob, disemboweled by the most savage of madmen.

Jess screamed, heart twisting, knowing what she must do.

Charging into the band of Velheim lancers even now racing towards her friends who did not hesitate to follow, Eloquin’s furious commands aside.

Jess howled. Letting her foes know she was coming, snarling lancers pivoting to meet her. Less lances aimed at her friends. Legs locked, she tilted forward once more, a straight on charge.

A snarl transforming into a desperate grunt as iron rimmed shield, core of wood, was torn from desperate hands, the gifts of the woodlands never betraying their mistress, even as her blade plunged through her enemy’s heart, his own lance and those of his fellows torn out of desperate grips as Jess yanked mace free of saddlehook, shrieking and pounding with all her fury and hate, her foes crumpling to her blows. Panicked men roaring, shields tearing free of broken fingers, stunned men slipping free of saddles, hands desperately reaching for sword and war hammer even as they crumpled from their saddles, their helms caving under a berserker’s fury.

Malek took furious advantage of wood’s retreat, slamming war hammer down upon panicked men whose shields had torn free, raised arms covered in mail shattering to a war hammer’s awful blows, screaming men huddling back before dying, Malek’s strength magnified by a berserker’s fury, helmets caved in with brutal, practiced efficiency.

Beyond the ken of any mortal warrior.

Jess understood that now.

Wondering if they had left their humanity behind when they had first blackened their daggers.

A lifetime ago.

“Jess!” She caught her shieldbrother’s gaze, her arms shaking with battlefury. The wreak of blood inflaming their frenzy, crimson spray the warpaint of their vengeance.

“Jess, Neal's in trouble!”

Jess turned to gaze at her friend, Neal leading the charge with the band of Squires who had dared the assault, though some distance behind her.

And they had not been protected by her gifts, two unhorsed by enemy lances, both stumbling to their feet, thank the gods.

Melee had been engaged, furious and frantic, Velheim soldiers holding their own.

A fresh scream behind them.

Jess shuddered to see the robed mages hissing and cursing, shimmering wards of energy surrounding them, having pulled up another bound captive even as Abella spasmed her last upon the stone altar.

Hot entrails steaming in the icy breeze.

Her freckled face a rictus of endless agony, piercing green eyes fading to death even as Jess watched.

“Jess!”

Jera.

Jess gasped in horror. The dark mages had chosen Jera as their next sacrifice, even as she shrieked and struggled against her bonds.

Malek howled.

Jess caught his gaze. Saw the panicked fire in his eyes.

She did not think. Only acted.

Gauntlet torn off, cheek stinging like fire, dirk discarded, her smeared blood caressing his forehead.

“Kill them, my brother. Kill them all!”

Malek howled like a wolf in truth, and Jess flinched away, horrified by what she thought she saw.

Knowing she had to act, or Neal and friends she had fought and bled beside for an eternity would perish.

And it would be her fault.

Mace raced high, she charged into the milling mass of Velheim soldiers, striking down with shrieking hate, reveling in the clang of steel against steel, the crunch of shattered metal as imperfectly forged helms crumpled before her masterwork weapon, a dozen Velheim soldiers’ disciplined strikes against an equal number of Squires turning to panicked, desperate cuts as wooden shafted weapons slipped free of their grips, shields spinning to the ground, and still Jess flinched every time she heard the cry of another Squire struck by Velheim blades.

And how she roared, redoubling her blows, as if to pay in kind for the folly of leading her friends into this place of horror.

As one, the surviving Velheim forces broke formation and ran, four escaping as a final panicked soldier collapsed to Jess’s furious blow, his helm ringing like a gong from the power of her mace, her eyes locking upon the fleeing soldiers like a bird of prey.

Shuddering as she caught sight of the massive storm of black brooding clouds approaching even now.

The reverberating roar of the massive vortex of wind, howling in its center.

“No, Jess. Retreat! We need to retreat, now!”

Neal’s panicked gaze.

Jess gave a hurried nod, hands quickly grabbing enemy mount stirrups before they could flee, even as her fellow Squires hurriedly lifted injured friends upright, putting those on mounts that they could, so panicked they dare not even finish off their crippled foes as the deadly storm approached.

Jess’s heart was pounding. Terrified by what she would see, but knowing she must face it, pivoting Mercy and the reins of captured mounts in line towards the sight of horrific sacrifice.

Her guts lurched.

Acidic bile searing her nose, burning away the stench of blood with stinging agony.

Her relief beyond words, for all her bitter laughter.

Jera, alive.

Trembling with shock, screaming, as were so many of the bound students, but alive. All of them. All of them save red haired Abella, face forever locked in a rictus of agony, tortured body viciously disemboweled, a ghastly remnant of the beautiful girl so full of spunk and mirth who had flirted with Jess so sweetly, just the day before.

But there was no time for horror at the grisly scene she saw.

No time at all.

The storm was approaching, and Jess was sickly certain she understood exactly what it was.

“Jess, thank all the gods! Please!”

Alex’s panicked gaze.

Jess did not think, leaping from her mount, reins still in hand. Horses ready to buck, strangely still upon catching her gaze.

Jera flinched and whimpered as Jess approached, arms raised as if fearing Jess would kill her herself.

Jess swallowed, forcing herself to breathe, knowing exactly how she must seem, caught in the warrior’s frenzy.

First she approached the largest of the struggling students.

“Be still, damn it!”

With a hoarse sob, he was.

Jess forced trembling hands to draw her killing saber slowly, parting the boy’s bonds with an almost delicate slice.

The boy gasped and wept. “Thank you, by all the gods of heaven, you are an angel from above, thank you!”

“Shut up and hold these reins!”

Sobbing, the boy did just that, as Jess quickly went to each of the still panicked mages, carefully cutting their bonds, one by one.

Jess was careful not to look at the fallen diabolists.

Heads and limbs torn free, bodies savaged as if having faced the wildest of beasts.

Their horrific screams had been buried by the din and cry of battle.

But even in the midst of that desperate struggle, Jess had known they would be dead.

Sacks of ruptured organs, splashes of crimson painting even the still trembling students.

Jess could only imagine what they had seen.

Still could not believe the mad look she had exchanged with her brother, as if they had shared a dark secret they had both sworn to forget, long ago.

So damned long ago.

Jess shook, trembling, even as the storm howled on.

“Jess, we have to move, now!”

Alex’s voice.

Jess swallowed and nodded, helping to mount the surviving students, somehow managing three to a horse, mercy as well, she herself leading them at a mad run, her friend held in arms that no longer bothered to hide their strength.

“Oh gods, we’re not going to make it! That’s a shadowstorm!” The panicked cry of one of the students.

“Shut up, Kaylin, we damn well will!” cried another. “Look, the Squires have all made the treeline, Jess. Thank the gods you came, lead us there!”

But Jess already was, as fast as she could drag the reins, shaking with unspeakable horror, feeling the roar of that terrible storm just behind her, the awful vortex of wind already sucking at the grass by her feet.

A student screamed. “It almost plucked me from the mount!”

“Hold tighter!” Jess roared.

A desperate surge.

Panicked grass now firmly rubbing against hooves and feet.

Desperate traction as Jess broke into a run, a sobbing Jera in her arms still, even as the sky turned black as night, the students screaming desperately.

“Ilia! She was pulled free!”

Jess sacrificed one awful moment as they reached the treeline, seeing a young girl tumbling down the slight incline behind them, gazing at Jess with desperate eyes as she tumbled helplessly into the massive vortex of howling winds racing for the treeline.

“Jess!” Jera’s desperate voice. “There is nothing you can do! We need to move, now!”

And with an awful sob, Jess plunged back into the underbrush as the massive vortex of hellish, shrieking winds chased them, but feet behind.

“Calenbry, report!”

Eloquin’s furious gaze.

Jess trembled and shook before it.

She would stand strong. She must.

Fist to chest. “Ten surviving students and myself.” She swallowed, forcing herself to speak.

“The Squires?" Jess gasped.

Only a moment did his icy gaze spear her heart, but it was a killing blow.

“All accounted for, save for Malek himself,” he said at last. “No time to talk. We move now! Lead, Calenbry. Redeem your inconceivable folly, and pull your brothers free of this black hell that would suck us all in!”

Trembling, Jess nodded, gazing into the eyes of her fellow Squires as she did so. Some were gazing at her with awe, dipping their heads before her, others spearing her with their glares.

They knew all too well that her impetuous folly, splitting their forces, charging ahead into the heart of a storm that would consume them even now if it could, had almost killed them.

A horrific truth Jess couldn’t deny, even as her heart writhed, even as she gazed at ten trembling students, alive only because she had committed such unforgivable folly.

She would run through the night if she must, on legs trembling with fatigue and pain. Whatever could free her friends from this storm.

If they were lost to folly, consumed by the horror even now howling above, leaves rustling frantically, it would haunt Jess without surcease.

And the thought that she might have lost her closest friend…

She choked down a sob.

No time.

No time at all.

Those she loved needed her.

She would see them safely home, even if she died of exhaustion.

Even if they would crucify her for a fool, first she would see them safely home.

“This way!” Jess cried, sensing strange truths in those woods, wordlessly accepting the flask Neal handed her trembling hands, drinking deep, realizing in that moment how desperately she needed it.

“There is only this moment, shieldsister. Just lead us home.”

She jerked a nod, picking up her pace, chasing that odd frisson of certainty, even as the hideous storm howled overhead.

“Oh, by the gods, we’re all dead! We can’t outrun a shadowstorm, it’s tearing through the trees. It will eat us alive!” One girl sobbed.

“Shut up!” Eloquin snapped. “Fear is the greatest weapon any foe can use against you. Do not be so stupid as to use it on yourself! Squires, orderly ranks. Make sure the foolish children don’t bolt or flee their mares. Calenbry! I gave you no permission to take your ease! You lead us on at a sprint, not a walk!”

“Yes sir!” Jess cried, for all that she had been racing, going slow enough only to grasp the shiver of certainty now coursing through her.

More than one student shrieked.

The storm was now overhead.

Jess burst into a small clearing in the heart of the woods, even as the dappled shafts of soothing green light shimmering from the foliage overhead turned black as death, hideous howls filling the clearing.

Alex’s panicked gaze met her own.

“I am so sorry, Jess. By all the gods, I am so sorry for all of this.”

“Bloody hells, I am not dying here!” Mortant roared, readying himself as if to dart back into the thicker underbrush. “By all the gods, I can’t get back through! Jess, help me!”

Soft murmurs turned to growing panic.

“You will calm yourselves, now!” Eloquin roared. “Calenbry, you know what you must do!”

Jess shivered and nodded. Knowing exactly what she must do. “Everyone hold hands, in a circle. Do it now!”

“What are you talking about, Jess? We have to move, this is madness!” Lucas snapped, before cursing in sudden pain. “Hell with you, Neal!”

“Silence!” Neal snapped. “Now, more than at any time in our bloody lives, you follow commands! Our Jess dances too close to folly, but she is no fool. You need only look around and see us all still alive, despite that horror of a botched battle, to know that’s true.”

Jess felt her cheeks flush with shame once more, bowing her head.

Eloquin’s hard eyes locked with her own. She trembled and stepped back.

Her glove was torn off. A powerful hand gently clasping hers. “Time enough for shame later, Calenbry. Now you will see this through.”

“Yes,” Jess sobbed, nodding resolutely, all their band immediately following their commander’s lead, Alex taking Jess’s right hand, linked to all his fellows, the entire circle of mages and Squires linked as one.

Jess smiled through her tears, gazing at so many faces staring back with desperate hope, peers she loved with all her heart.

“Close your eyes,” she whispered, glaring at each and every one of them until even Lucas and Mortant, both scowling, closed their eyes at last. “Now envision this glade, just as you saw it, all of us here holding hands.”

“This isn’t helping,” one trembling voice whispered as the howling winds shrieked ever louder overhead.

“Silence!” Eloquin barked. The younger voice sobbed.

“What you hear is not the howling of a gale, but the lapping of waves upon the shore nearby. What you feel is not the eddies of ill weather, but a fresh spring breeze, smelling of honeysuckle, cyprus and thyme; the bounty of a thousand thousand wildflowers in the fields just beyond a place of laughter and joy, where children play endless games and sing ancient songs as old as time itself.”

Jess smiled, tears in her eyes. “Even now, you will find our fallen friends there, those we have loved and lost, singing and laughing away days of endless summer, telling tales of magic, mystery, and wonder; sharing stories of loving families, babes they had watched blossom from tiny infants to adults strong and proud. Rich lives lived, full of warmth and laughter, sweet tales to add to the greatest song of all, existence itself. Can you hear them laughing and singing? Can you sense them just beyond this tiny glade?”

“Yes!” A voice shivering with wonder. Jera’s.

“Yes, Jess, I can hear them. It’s like, it’s like they’re calling to me!”

“You will hold!” Eloquin snapped, his voice instantly softening. “My foolish student has already risked everything saving you once. Do not seek rebirth yet, Jera de Leon. You have just begun to tell your tale, and you know bloody well that the lover by your side would miss you fiercely, if you dared to answer their call.”

Jess shuddered at those words, but held fiercely tight to the beautiful fantasy she felt flowing out of her. She knew that there was nothing she could do about the storm. Thick woodlands full of underbrush would stop most winds, she was sure. But panic would result in their deaths faster than anything else.

There was no way she could possibly outrun a storm. So hunkering down, hands linked, off mounts that might panic themselves, was their best bet for survival. And if her sweet tale was one they could latch onto? All the better. She was already in love with the tome of adventure Liam and Sable had gifted her with, and this story she was dreaming up came so naturally to her lips.

Tales of flying upon wondrous skies full of endless billowing clouds upon which majestic ivory castles lay, home to winged faeries and wondrous beasts and their endless adventures within those majestic heavens forever kissed by the first rays of dawn. Maiden’s rescued, warrior queens married, and villains vanquished. Triumphs celebrated with endless feasts of the most exotic fare, the finest wine, mead of the gods, delicate pastries so sweet they tasted of sugar and air.

Jess lost herself in the revelry of endless stories, desperate to make amends for tragedy so narrowly averted, desperate to forget the fate of her beloved shieldbrother whose presence she yearned for at that very moment, imagining his maverick grin as he teased her silly children’s tales. For a time, she forgot all her regrets and fears, savoring the wonder of delicious fantasy such that she blotted out all awareness of the storm roaring so fiercely above them, thinking it no more than the soft rustle of branches overhead.

“By the gods, you did it, Jess. You did it!”

Jess blinked and stepped back, strangely dizzy, stumbling to her rear. More than one of her fellows chuckled in sympathy, though many were trembling with remembered horror still.

Yet all of them were blinking with wonder, gazing about, more than a few crying with relief.

The storm had passed.

25

Eloquin gave a resolute nod, lifting Jess to her feet.

His eyes caught her own.

She trembled and looked away. So fierce was his gaze. Jess feared he would explode.

“Lead us home, Calenbry,” was all he said.

Had she redeemed herself the tiniest bit, soothing over two score souls til the storm had passed? Jess choked back a sob. Realizing it didn’t matter.

No matter how her friends gazed at her with relieved smiles, beaming with pride as they dipped their heads, Jess knew she was guilty of the most horrid breach of trust.

She had disobeyed her commander’s direct orders. She had split the Squires in intent and purpose, charging headlong into superior numbers, distant enough that her beloved friends had been denied the full strength of her gifts.

Injuries had been sustained, injured Squires hissing and groaning even at that very moment, Jess spared eternal guilt only in the hopes that they were not as severe as they could have been. Bad bruises, masterwork helmets dinged but not cracked or caved in, collar bones broken but no worse, thank all the gods in the Heavens above.

Jess trembled, catching the eyes of wounded friends, seeing them smile so bravely back, when they should hate her for so foolishly risking their lives.

Yet the gazes Jera and Alex sent her, eyes so bright with gratitude, hands clenched fiercely in each other’s grips, warmed her heart.

“By all the gods, Jess. I don’t, I don’t have the words.” Jera’s soft voice.

“Silence!” Eloquin barked. “You all have so much to answer for, it is beyond words. And this is not the time or place for it. Calenbry has one last task before she is to face reprimand. Allow her the grace of that final virtue, before sentence is passed.”

Jess trembled, choking back a sob, knowing her worst fears were about to be made manifest. And it did not stop her from hiking boldly on through endless woodlands, the soothing susurrations of branches overhead barely easing her anxious heart. And when they finally broke forest cover, emerging in sight of the northern road, and Eloquin bade her carefully lace up her boots and proceed at a trot, students now all sharing mounts with the lightest Squires save for Jess alone, she did naught but pound fist to chest, jogging at a steady pace as the day wore on.

“Faster, Calenbry! Unless you tire of a Squire’s burden, tire of a Squire’s need for discipline, discipline that all your brothers and sisters depend upon! You may shed your armaments at any time, Calenbry, and make off for your father’s barony, the moment your heart desires!”

All the Squires were shocked to silence, Neal and several others gazing coldly on. Jera gasped. “You can’t be serious,” she whispered.

“Silence,” Alex hushed, shaking his head emphatically, Jera trembling before the general’s furious gaze.

Tears silently running down her cheeks, Jess gave an exhausted salute, running on, even as her stride turned to a stumbling jog, feet blistered, heaving with exhaustion, collapsing to the ground.

“Get up, Calenbry! I did not give you leave to fall, any more than I did to charge like a fool into a warded encampment, terrain favored by our enemy, a trio of mages ready to tear you fools apart with dark magics you can barely fathom! Only by the goddess’s own luck did you survive, and no thanks to you playing an utter fool! You and your asinine, arrogant shieldbrother charging in, leaving your fellows uncertain and divided, closest friends who owe you their lives too bound by honor not to charge behind, no matter that you have just fractured the chain of command, devastated morale, and put all those lives at risk as you broke the one cardinal rule you must never ignore, staying at the heart of any charge or retreat. For you alone, foolish girl, can counter those lances!”

Jess sobbed, stumbling to her feet.

And Eloquin leaped off his horse, glaring at Jess as she stumbled back, tripping to the ground once more. “Twelve, when we had forty! And I told you, fool, that none of us were to proceed, as the plains were twisting under a storm of darkest Shadow, and still you charged on! Still you played the fool, when by all rights you should all be dead, and I’m having to face your father, explaining to him how I let his eldest die! Not in glory, but as a fool who couldn’t follow simple orders!”

He turned to glare at the apprentices they had saved, shaking his head in contempt. “If you fools hadn’t dared that which your masters clearly forbid, deceiving your proctors about your intentions so none of us knew where you were truly headed, trusting only the two easily bribed guards, all too happy to sell you out in turn! Had you spoken to any instructor who would have spoken to me, I could have prevented this whole damned folly from occurring!”

Eloquin trembled with hot fury, eyes blazing, hand tight upon his saber. Never had Jess seen her icy commander as anything but the most exquisitely ruthless and deadly of foes. Never had he lost control in all the months (years) she had fought beside him. Never.

“Please,” Jess whispered, terrified to think of the folly but a hairsbreadth away, the surviving apprentices gazing at Eloquin in speechless horror, trembling where they sat, the Squires leading their mounts gazing down at their saddles, utterly still.

Eloquin’s hooded gaze snapped around to fasten upon Jess once more.

She felt as if she were drowning in icy seas so cold they sucked the heat from her bones in an instant.

“Move, Calenbry.”

Choking back an exhausted sob, Jess did just that.

Never had she felt so weary, so sick with exhaustion as when the magnificent keep that was Highrock popped into view, massive and proud, carved into the very cliff face it had been named from. An architectural wonder.

And all Jess felt was sick, as she collapsed to the ground, heaving in exhaustion.

“Neal!” Eloquin’s voice cracked through the air.

“Yes, commander.”

“Give the penitent a flask of water.”

Yes sir.

“Then relieve her of all her gear.”

Jess was too exhausted to do other than take slow sips as Neal gently tended to her, taking off her armor as gracefully as he could when he had finished, all without saying a word.

Eloquin turned to the remaining Squires. “We have met bitterest folly on this day. One we had counted upon above all others fell to weakness when we needed her to remain strong. It is when passions run highest, that the chain of command must be most adhered to. Jess failed in this, and near a score of you fools almost lost your lives.” He slowly shook his head. “No. All of you would have perished to that Shadowstorm. A fate that would have been avoided entirely, had we fled upon the instant, as I was about to order!”

His gaze was equal parts pity, disappointment, and scorn. “Calenbry is guilty of a hanging offense. And she has saved all your lives, pulling you from the fires of folly more than once, in all the High Hunts we have embraced. Never has Calenbry failed to blacken her dagger for me. Never before has she failed me like this.”

He turned to the trembling apprentice mages, more than one openly sobbing at his gaze.

“Please, please don’t kiss us!” One girl begged. “I just want to go home. I am so, so sorry! I just want to go home!”

Eloquin shook his head. “Don’t be a fool. You will all accompany me and give me a full report of the idiocy that led to this catastrophically stupid tragedy. I would know all the actors upon the stage, every serpent that sought to strike vulnerable children too foolish to follow the chain of command before embarking upon your folly.”

He turned to Jess. “And she will report to the head proctor the role your band of would-be mages all played in this hideous folly tonight. Each and every one of you will accept what punishments the head dean sees fit to dispense among you, including expulsion. I will allow the supplicant to say what must be said. A final boon for having the courage to see this through, to face her horrid folly to this degree, at least.” Furious eyes pinned their own. “Unless you fools seek to contest me?”

The young mages shook their heads desperately, Alex and Jera just as pale-faced and frightened as the rest. And the look of shame Alex sent Jess’s way broke her heart.

Eloquin turned to Jess.

“Calenbry!”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, choking back bitter tears.

“You will report to the head proctor. Barefoot. Your pathetic fall from grace is not worthy of the dean’s time. Only tunic and hose will you wear. Let the world see your shame. You will confess your horrid breach, explain the role your friends played as you see fit, and request the penitent’s shift. You have failed in your duties as a squad leader. Do you understand?”

Jess nodded, reeling with the blow. Her shame would be absolute, that much was clear.

“Good. You are also hereby suspended of your status as a Squire of War. You are one of my Hounds no longer. Merely a girl who has stumbled into gravest folly, with so very much to learn.”

“Yes, sir,” Jess whispered.

He nodded once. “You will attend all your classes, Calenbry, without fail. You will accept bitter words from all who give them, criticism from all who find you lacking, and you will embrace it as the truly penitent would. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Jess gulped, heart lurching with despair. “but sir… I don’t even know what classes I take.”

“That is not an excuse! That is sloth, that is folly, that is a pathetic use of Highrock resources! You have proven my lenience ill-founded! The same lack of discipline that has made you a piss-poor student is also what has led to your downfall, Jessica.”

Jess bowed her head, crushed by shame.

“Now get out of my sight.”

26

A nightmare without end.

Or such is how it felt, bruised, blooded, exhausted, stumbling down corridors, even now overwhelmed by the terrible screams of men dying as her blade tore through their hearts, the awful crunch of bone bursting under the hammering blows of her mace. The dreadful glee she felt, lost to that madness. And when, by rights, she should be soaking in hot baths, embraced by powerful arms as she drunk deep and sobbed and loved the horror away, she was instead stumbling down endless corridors, barefoot and exhausted, so many students gazing at her in disbelief, pity, or in some cases, darkest glee.

She had been stripped of all rank and prestige, everything she had fought so hard for. And now she was to be condemned and humiliated for having risked her life, just to save her friends.

No. She would not lie to herself. She would not lose what little integrity she had left.

She had fallen for putting near a score of her battle-brother’s lives at risk; panic for her friends and the girl who had gazed at her so fondly having compelled her to an act of unforgivable foolishness.

She had broken formation.

She had wedged a crack in the focus and direction of her fellows.

And she had paid that tragic breach with further folly, not even properly warding those who had raced to her banner, defying the will of their master, putting their lives and reputation both in peril.

Only by sheerest luck, did everyone make it back.

Jess trembled and sobbed, thinking of her beloved shieldbrother, thinking of Abella’s playful smile… remembering the rictus of agony her face had twisted into, as she was brutally butchered before Jess’s very eyes.

She had failed them.

She had failed them all.

Jess stumbled and fell to cold, hard tile stones, blisters on her feet bursting at last, even as tears burst, choking sobs held back no longer, and Jess cried bitter tears on those flagstones as frightened looking students gazed on.

A tentative knock upon a door of brooding oak. Free of all ornamentation, down what Jess fancied was the coldest, loneliest corridor in the entire school.

A door abruptly opened. A tall, thin faced man still wearing a proctor’s uniform gazed at her for long, silent moments with hard brown eyes.

“Why do you trouble me, student?”

Dizzy and sick, it was all a shaking Jess could do to remain upright. “I am here to report my crimes, sir. My folly has cost me all status and esteem. I am to don the penitent’s shift, until I am deemed worthy of redemption, or I flee the school in shame.”

So cold, his gaze. She sensed his disdain the instant their eyes had locked, shuddering and immediately looking away, unable to bear the loathing she feared he truly felt for her. Unfair? Not at all. She knew it was because he knew already. Knew that no student would come before him like this, unless guilty of the most grievous of breaches, well deserving of any contempt he would give.

“Jessica de Calenbry. Daughter of Arthur de Calenbry. Arrogant, proud, slothful, deluded enough to think she can neglect her responsibilities as a student and still prosper. Yet, for all your sins, you had still managed to grasp onto the title of Squire.” Gaze lowered, she still sensed him shaking his head. “Your master must have seen virtues I do not, as is his right. Yet now even he has determined that your gross flaws are too blatant to be tolerated any further.”

Jess shuddered, but forced herself to nod. “Yes, sir.”

He let the pause grow endlessly. “You are exhausted, injured, and covered in blood. Have you assaulted or murdered a student or professor of Highrock?”

Jess adamantly shook her head, gripping the doorway before she swooned. “No, sir.”

“Then I am permitted to make you this offer. Leave now. Leave and do not come back. Flee to your father’s estates, like the failure you are. A full diploma will be sent to you, as the dean is too much of a coward to insult a noble House, no matter how much of a wretch their spawn turns out to be. Resign, child. Sully this school with your presence no more, and you will be spared the pain that is surely your due."

The cold silence was a weight on Jess's soul. She swallowed, forcing exhausted limbs to stillness, throat bone dry.

“Or you will be forced to wear the penitent’s shift and bear your sins before me, so I may judge you. And do not think you will find redemption easy, Jessica de Calenbry. For as a student of this school, I find you hideously lacking.”

Jess closed her eyes, squeezing out bitter tears.

“I choose redemption. I will wear the penitent’s shift, and bare my sins.”

“I see. State the nature of your crimes, Jessica de Calenbry, so I may record them, and make sure the school entire knows of your folly. May their scorn and castigation hound you, until you break and flee, or your own shame redeems you.”

Trembling, Jess struggled to speak, to say what needed to be said. Knowing there was so much she could not say, dared not say, for sacred oaths she swore never to break she would honor always, no matter how her heart now burned.

“I jeopardized the lives of forty Squires and near a dozen apprentice mages in an act of impulsive folly.”

“How?”

Jess grimaced. “I swore oaths as a Squire that forbid my speaking the specific nature of my folly, head proctor. I can only say… generalities. Forgive me.”

Jess shuddered as the man's hand gripped the back of her neck, forcing her lowered head down to a kneel. “Are you sure that’s the stance you wish to take?”

Trembling, Jess nodded.

“Very well. Give me the generalities. State the nature of your crimes.”

“I… I disobeyed a direct order, sir,” Jess whispered. “I broke the chain of command, divided the intent and focus of our forces, imperiled my master’s unquestioned authority. I let my own passions get the better of me. As a result, forty Squires were put in mortal peril.”

Trembling, Jess knew what she had to say and how she had to say it, to preserve her friends the horror she knew she was to endure, knowing Alex and Jera were already haunted by the nightmare they had endured. They had been dreamers, eager to learn and explore, betrayed by the most vicious of serpents. She couldn't bear to stab them in the back now.

She was already set to take the charge. She would cover for them too.

“Twelve apprentice mages were also imperiled this evening. Only by sheerest fortune were they rescued.”

The proctor’s hands curled into fists. “You... that dozen... by all the hells, do you know what you did?"

Jess trembled, shaken by the unexpected contempt. So the head proctor already knew. Already knew how close she had come to losing everyone's life, for surrendering to her own desperation.

Jess could sense the vindictive fury radiating off the man, his trembling fist in the corner of her eye. His breath was ragged. He seemed to be fighting for control. "So. You threatened the lives of a dozen apprentices with your folly.”

Jess swallowed, tears falling freely from her cheeks. “No,” she sobbed. “But… two perished, and my closest friend is gone.”

The proctor’s ragged breathing had turned to a furious snarl of hate. Sinewy hands unspooled what Jess saw to her horror was a whip.

“Strip. Now.”

Sobbing, Jess did not resist, desperate not to catch the man's hate-filled gaze. She closed her eyes, heart racing with terror.

“If you are responsible for what you imply... three sacred lives lost to your blasphemy! And how many others died to your interference? By blackest Justice, I will see you pay for that, Calenbry!”

His whip cracked. Biting into the flesh of her back. She screamed and collapsed, caught utterly off guard by the hideous pain a whip cracking into naked flesh could cause.

“I care not the pretext! I care not if your blade did not strike the killing blow! Your interference cost more than you know. Their blood is on your hands, worthless piece of trash, and by all the gods, I will make you pay!”

His whip cracked her flesh again. Jess screamed.

To her shame and horror, she sensed students looking on.

The proctor had not even thought to invite her in before his interrogation. Before his chastisement.

Desperately she choked back screams as the cracking whip bit cruelly into her flesh.

She was only partly successful.

Time bent, twisted and strange. Her body spasming, blood and vomit spewing forth.

And still, the beating went on.

The crack of the whip, the drum of charging hooves, her hand smacking the forehead of her beloved friend.

His look of wild fury as she smeared his forehead with her own blood.

“Kill them, my brother. Kill them all!”

An act of pure madness, in the middle of a pitched battle.

Jess screamed, another bolt of agony rocking through her.

Forcing herself to remember what she had so desperately sought to forget, reliving that horror to push away the agony burning her even now.

A figure of shadow.

Eyes of flame.

Howling as the storm consumed them, consumed them all.

Eloquin. Master of eldritch arts so well hidden, all of them warded even as the Shadowstorm struck, more than winds pulling at them.

Power stretched so thin, Jess having split their forces.

Unforgivable.

Yet Malek, poor Malek, had slipped free his master's wards, and embraced the storm.

And how those mages had screamed, horrified men exploding like bags of bone and blood, limbs torn free, faces cleaved from bone…

Screaming.

Endless screaming.

Theirs, and her own.

Even now, Jess could imagine a horrific nightmare of flame and shadow racing after those fallen souls, nipping at the heels of those wizards as they fled helplessly into hideous realms of howling storms, desperate struggle, eternal nightmare... devouring them utterly, body and soul. Embracing the High Hunt in terrible ways Jess could only begin to fathom.

“Jess!”

“Twilight, thank the gods.”

“Mistress, what’s wrong? You are in pain! Who dares to strike you?”

“Sable. Liam. Julia. Are they safe?”

“Mistress…” Jess sensed sapphire eyes, blazing like massive fiery suns, peering into her very soul. “Ah, mistress. So bitter is your folly, when I dare to leave your side.”

Jess shuddered, even as the body she knew to be her own continued to writhe and scream.

“I’ve lost Malek, Twilight, I lost him!”

She somehow sensed his sigh. “Please, mistress, never compel him like that again. He is still too fragile. You both are, to weather the storms such acts would bring.”

Jess shivered, tried to nod, screaming even in her waking dream.

“Mistress! Foolish girl. Hold fast, I will see this stopped immediately.”

“Sable! Her baby! Are the okay?”

“I take strange paths, Jess. Vile serpents armed with sacrificial knives seek their hearts, even now.”

Jess screamed, fury as much as pain compelling her.

“Fear not, I am no novice to this game, and will protect them as you compelled… my message has been given. Flee your tormentor! I will return as soon as I am able.”

But it was too late. Even as she tried to stumble to her knees upon hands trembling with exhaustion, her back a shredded mass of agony, a cruel boot slammed into her spine.

She collapsed with a cry.

“I did not give you leave to move, wretch. Blood on your hands. You need not say black truths I sense already. three masters perished for your cursed involvement in things that do not concern you! That bastard cannot hide your sins behind a simple shift. You will pay in blood, and I will see you tried for your crimes in a formal court!” He twisted her ear so hard she screamed. "And not one corrupted by lords grown fat with the butchery of so many good men. No, Calenbry. One day I will see you suffer so sweetly that this will seem but the gentlest of caresses!"

She groaned as he slammed her skull to the ground, his whip cracking once more, biting deep into savaged flesh.

Jess’s scream came out a piteous cry.

And the whip cracked again.

Jess trembled, and felt something snap within.

A blur, so fast she hardly saw it, even as she felt her mind sink someplace deep and dark.

A man screamed.

Jess heard the crackle of snapping bone.

“How dare you! I gave you no leave to strike my student with a lash! If she perishes to your wounds, I will take your life in turn!”

A snarled protest. “You have no right to interfere, dog of war! She has been declared penitent from your own lips! She is now under my care, monster. A penitent she is, and as a penitent she shall pay as I see fit!"

“Her penance is a woolen robe, you vile excuse for a proctor! The robe is a trial of shame, not a gauntlet of fire! I never gave you leave to strike her flesh!”

Bone cracked once more. The proctor’s screams became a pitiful wail.

“She’s responsible for multiple deaths. She said it herself! The bitch deserves harshest pain, for crimes!”

Bitter laughter. “More the fool you. You are a failure, to allow your passions to get the best of you. You, of all people, should make sure your understanding is complete, before you dare to strike a noblewoman’s flesh!”

“Her confession was all I needed to hear!”

“She was protecting them, you damned fool!”

“I do not forgive her, dog, now unhand me!” His breathless protest turned to a shriek.

Yet Jess had already collapsed.

Crying out in sudden fresh pain as she felt herself gently lifted, sobbing as she was briskly carried down endless corridors, feeling scores of eyes upon her, hoping, desperately hoping it was all but a dream.

She groaned as strange white energies lanced her flesh, trying desperately to push them away.

“Stop fighting them, Calenbry.”

A soft whimper her only response, as the shivery magics crackled through her body.

“By all the gods, what happened to her?” Master Jevon’s soft voice, now one of barely concealed outrage.

“It’s being dealt with.”

“I’m afraid I must insist, Eloquin.”

“Tend to the patient in your care, Jevons. She’s your focus now.”

The healer sighed. “I’m afraid it isn’t that simple, General. Young Jessica here is strangely resistant to our magics. It takes a remarkable amount of force to compel any healing upon her at all.”

“Then use the poultices she herself made.”

Lost in a sea of pain, Jess drifted off, leaving the voices far behind.

27

Odd dreams of being adrift on a peaceful stream, bobbing to and fro, were replaced by the sound of morning birds, shafts of sunlight piercing her skull, forcing her eyes open as she groaned and turned away.

“Ah, how is our favorite herbalist feeling this morning?” teased none other than the gentle voice of Master Jevons himself, perhaps the most skilled healer in all of Highrock, and Josie’s role model in so many ways.

Jess groaned. “Please tell me last night was a nightmare… I couldn’t bear to think...”

The gently smiling face turned solemn. “I am sorry to say this, Jessica, but if it is dreams of penitence that haunt you, they are still very much a reality, I’m afraid.”

Jess trembled, squeezing her eyes shut, the throb in her aching back undeniable, the beating she had survived all too real.

“It’s funny, you know. All the duels, all training I’ve received, my flesh bruised and battered, and when live steel is in play, the cuts that managed to get through… never has it hurt so fiercely as what happened last night.”

Jevon’s gaze hardened, even as he gave a nod. “That is because whips are all but worthless against an armored man. And so long as one can endure the first strike, which is not always the case, one can easily charge through a weapon mean to inflict pain, finishing your foe off with a weapon designed with death in mind. The whip, the lash, these tools tear into the flesh at horrific speeds, biting into your body in a way that sets your senses ablaze with agony. So different from a blade where the sharpest cuts are not even felt until moments pass, death your foe's true goal. The whip is designed only to torment its prey.”

The gentle healer shook his head, soft white curls bobbing in the draft. “It is a weapon of torture. I have argued it before and will argue it again. It has no business being used anywhere outside a royal interrogation chamber. To find that the head proctor not only felt at liberty to carry such an item as a means of intimidation, but to actually strike a student, and one of named noble blood at that, is beyond outrageous. Absolutely unforgivable.”

Jess shook her head, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. “I have fallen from grace, Master Jevons. Shamed myself utterly before my mentor’s eyes, endangered the lives of my friends. It is what I deserve. No more, no less.”

“Balderdash!” The healer roared. “Do you think I’m a fool, Jessica?” He winced, shaking his head in apology when Jess trembled. “I am sorry. For me, your healer, to raise his voice, when you so vulnerable, so exhausted. Beaten after seeing live combat, forced to run to the point of collapse. Don’t deny it, I recognize the signs. To then be so ill used when rest and recuperation are the only burdens a soldier who has fought for his life should be forced to endure. It is unthinkable!”

He gently lifted away her blanked, fingers delicately touching the areas where she had received bruises in the engagement the night before, careful to touch her back with only the gentlest of caresses which she still flinched from, for all that she rested on her side, back free of contact with the bedding.

“Josie is my student, Jessica, as you well know. None of us are fools, and she couldn’t stand for even one assistant healer to gaze at you askance, you injured and vulnerable, after risking your life to save your friends.”

Jess squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to cry.

“I don’t know the details, but I know enough to appreciate the call of a noble soul, one who would risk her life to save another. I can only assume you broke some unspoken Squire mandate in doing so, and now you are forced to pay a most bitter price. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

A soft cotton cloth dabbed her tears, cool spring water given for her parched throat to sip.

“I don’t envy you what awaits, once you leave this wing, wearing that scratchy penitent’s robe of white wool. But I can tell you this. For so long as you are under my care, you will be treated with the same courtesy as any of my other patients. I have also insisted upon you being given permission to wear an undertunic of cotton, so your wounds are not tormented by that rough wool.”

“Thank you, Master Jevons,” Jess whispered, even as the gentle healer pulled up her blankets once more.

“Rest, Jessica. Rest and regain your strength for the days ahead."

And falling into the deepest of slumbers, Jess did just that.

28

So high and mighty, now wearing the penitent's robe. Fitting. I always knew you were pathetic, Calenbry, and now the whole world knows."

Her cheeks burned from the mocking laughter she was greeted by the first girl to catch her gaze since leaving the Healers Wing, her coterie tittering right behind her.

Jess blinked, almost certain she had seen her before. Lizbet, that was her name. A first name, all anyone had bothered with during the revels, fastening warm brown eyes upon Jess, laughing at Jess's botched jokes, chestnut hair so soft as Jess had leaned into their kiss before Lizbet had been swept away by a laughing Lucas. She had seemed to like Jess just fine back then, before her world had turned upside down.

Jess hung her head in shame, hobbling away as fast as she could.

She would show no weakness. She swore that when first she left the Healers Wing just moments ago, wearing nothing but the cotton shift and penitent robe she had been handed, doing her best not wince and grimace as she hobbled to her quarters, solemn stares and mocking jests hounding her from students who before had done all they could to avoid her proud gaze.

Bitter students, uncertain and overwhelmed, happy to see a star that had shone so brightly extinguished at last, now no better than they. Jess had shuddered to see it written so clearly in the first young man to spit at her feet.

“Not so high and mighty are you, wench? Thought you were all that, the equal of any man, til your idiocy got students killed! You should have been the one to fall, Calenbry. You’re worthless.”

Jess shuddered at the depth of the insult, fists trembling. She did naught but hang her head and try to pass.

Only to be shoved to the ground, gasping in sudden pain, her back ablaze with the jolt, legs still wobbly and sore with exhaustion and the scars of whips having lost the exquisite power and grace that had been hers but a handful of hours ago.

Laughter and jeers met her hot gaze.

Her attacker bent down and spat in her face. “Not so high and mighty now, are you, wench?”

“Leave her, Duggin. She’s still a Squire. They’re a bloody bunch, killers every one of them.” This from a shorter student, gazing at Jess not with malice, just fear.

His sandy haired friend shook him off. “I’m done with her anyway. Not worth my time. If she had any sense, she’d leave this place, and never return.”

Mocking laughter had hounded her then, no one caring an iota that she had been physically shoved, even spat upon. And she too shaken to fight back, not even knowing if she should. He had not struck to kill, he was just a young hothead.

And his contempt of her burned her heart.

Getting up on shaky feet, Jess hissed as she straightened her back, plodding to her quarters, black whispers and pointed glares spearing her with ever shaky step.

She trembled to see the pig’s blood smeared on her door, ‘murderer’ spelled out bold and ugly.

Trembling with bitter rage, she touched her door, and felt it vibrate to her touch, taking deep breaths as she opened it, slamming the thick door shut as hard as she could. Her eyes flitted from her inviting bed her body cried out to slip into, to the three day old pitcher of water on her bedside table, carefully held with shaking hands as she drunk it down, having neither heart nor energy to risk the dining hall below.

She thought back upon memory of a trembling girl forced to wear the penitent's robe, what seemed a lifetime ago. Once an aspiring mage, Jess understood, until her attempts to synergize and harmonize various arts alien to the elementalist paradigm, a grand unification, Alex had called it, had resulted in a catastrophic explosion that had left three of her fellows injured, one dead.

Jess had only needed to catch the poor girl’s gaze once to know she had been dying inside, crushed by her own guilt, compounded by the sanctioned mockery she endured, compliments of the entire school, the lords table alone refusing to bait the poor girl. Jess knew she had long since dropped out and left. She wondered if the girl would ever have the heart to cast a spell again, or if searing shame would forever freeze her in her tracks.

Jess furiously wiped away her tears. She just hoped the girl had the heart not to surrender her life to regret, no matter how bitter her mistake, how horrific the tragedy she had been a part of.

“How, how am I to endure this for days, for months on end? To see such contempt, simply limping back from the healers, and why do they think I’m a murderer?” Soft words murmured to empty air, her familiar on his own mission at her request, she utterly alone.

But of course, it was her own fault. She had confessed to three lost lives. No matter that she had only fought to save them. Her band had been put in dire peril, her horrific dereliction of duty no less egregious than if she had killed those three herself.

Only by sheerest luck did almost all of them survive. She sobbed, thinking of a sweet freckled smile, gazing at her so impishly, so playfully, but days ago, and how she had sobbed and cried out as those bastards tore into her with their bloody knives.

And Jess too late to save her, even as she risked her entire band. All their lives. Because she refused to give up.

At least she was able to spare Alex, Jera, and all their surviving friends the shaming she herself was forced to endure. At least she could do that for them, even if it encouraged others to think those missing lives were her burden to bear alone.

So be it.

She would never wish the horror she felt upon anyone. She could only imagine what Alex and Jera were going through in any case, being kidnapped, bound, forced to watch their friend writhing in agony before dying at last, knowing that horror had been in store for them as well. And now the shame of survival, after poor Abella had perished. And Eloquin's piercing gaze, castigating them utterly for having made the expedition without going through proper channels. As if it was their fault, the vile trap that had been sprung.

But who had set it? Were schemes in play even now within her school? Was anything being done?

Wounded, shunned, exhausted, Jess let the questions slip away from her as she lost herself at last to deepest sleep.

When she got up the next day, it was to find a list of her assigned classes and their times slid through her door. A single tray of food had been left for her as well, she saw upon opening the door. Knocked over, of course. Crockery smashed, lukewarm gruel clotting as she blinked at the mess.

She sighed, deciding to forgo breakfast altogether, simply trying to find her first assigned class, doing all she could to ignore the hooded stares, the mocking smiles that were all too often the only response she got, the few times she had dared to ask a fellow student for directions.

“Get out of my way, penitent. We don’t have to answer to the likes of you.” A cold glare, lips curled. What her fellows truly thought of Jess and her fellow Squires, when not fearing their potency. Or perhaps it was the reaction to be expected, a school full of frustrated noble scions desperate to keep afloat, and she fallen lower than a serf in their mind.

29

It was late when she finally arrived at her first class, seeing before her a young lady not much older than Jess herself, dressed in a sober version of the Highrock uniform with a thin linen cape over it marked with a professor’s pin. The instructor's eyes narrowed upon catching sight of her newest student.

“Ah, Jessica de Calenbry. Attending her assigned classes at last. And all it took was to be stripped of your insufferable pride, your baseless arrogance, and humbled before your betters. Welcome, penitent one. Have a seat. Perhaps you will actually learn something useful, before you flee this school in shame.”

Over a dozen students laughed aloud as Jess slid into one of the many seats in the back of the classroom not taken. Which was not at all surprising, really, as all the Squires whose ranks she had once been a part of were currently savoring sweet revels well-earned for their mission recently survived.

All save her and her shieldbrother, missing even now, yet another source of regret and dread.

She rubbed her head, gazing at the diagrams of triangles and squares on display before them, finding them simple enough to copy, not really understanding what the degrees meant, afraid to ask a soul, lest derision and laughter were her only response.

“Penitent one,” the professor asked. “Give me the combined angles for the third problem, and explain to me how one would use the equations discussed to calculate the trajectory of a catapult’s fire."

Jess gazed at the professor, speechless, her stomach twisting in horrified knots as she saw her professor’s lips curl up in a contemptuous smile that correlated perfectly with the increasingly snide remarks burning Jess’s ears.

“But, of course, you would have no idea how to answer that question, for all that you were once a Squire, before your fall from grace. And it is no wonder you fell, really, if you were this slipshod in your military lessons. For this class is mandatory, Jessica, even for the vaunted would-be knights of this school, and how dare you think you can skip my class for months on end, free of consequence!”

Jess swallowed, trembling, surprised at the depth of venom in the young professor’s voice.

“I have been instructing your fellows for months, Calenbry, doing my part to educate them, perhaps one day to save their lives! Imagine my surprise, or lack thereof, to find the one girl who flaunts my class entirely, who cares not a fig for my lessons, my concerns, manages to screw things up so royally that students die, because she had to play the fool!”

Her voice cracked at the last, glaring at Jess, one hand clenched in fury, the other clearly maimed, her vitriol so caustic that it left the class speechless.

She knew she could do better as a student, but this? Never in a million years had she expected this.

“Well, Calenbry, answer the question! How would you calculate a catapult’s range if you are too good for formulas that have served our commanders for centuries? Tell me, girl. Tell me or get out of this class, get out of this school, before anyone else suffers for your folly!”

Jess grimaced, closing her eyes tight as her heart roared in her ears, drowning her in a horrific maelstrom of shame.

A fist slammed upon her table.

“Answer the question, Calenbry!”

Heart racing, she kept her hands rigid, afraid of what she might do in that state. “I just know, professor.”

Her teacher scowled. “You just know. You just know? What does that even mean? You draw a guess based on the length of the arm? Do you even factor in whether or not it uses a torsion bundle or counter-weight? What about the slope of the bucket, the weight of the payload? What if it uses a sling? How do you know, Penitent?”

“If I see it, I know.” There was nothing else she could say.

Dark hair tightly bound in a bun, her instructor leaned down to glare into Jess’s eyes.

Graceful and fair, loose attire held a deceptively powerful frame. Jess blinked, understanding at once. This professor whose name she didn’t even know had once fought, or aspired to fight herself.

“Pathetic answer, Calenbry. But then again, seeing as you are too good for my lessons, no matter that I have devoted my career to helping military students who actually want to avoid enemy fire and return the same as effectively as possible, I have no reason to expect anything but delusional dribble to pass through your lips.”

She shook her head. “You would have found my lessons useful, had you the wit to appreciate them. But you have made your choice, and it has cost three students their lives, has it not?”

Jess shuddered, stomach roiling, hands trembling in shame, wondering if perhaps she had earned that ugly assertion, somehow. Earned, or as good as earned.

She hung her head and denied nothing.

“Duggin!”

“Yes, professor.”

“You take excellent notes. I am giving you a specific task. You will slip a daily copy of your notes under the Penitent’s door. Do you understand?”

The young man frowned, glaring at Jess. Jess shuddered, sickened to recognize the boy who had spit on her before, staring at her now with such furious contempt.

“Why must I do this, professor?”

The professor actually spat at Jess’s feet. “Because I don’t ever want to lay eyes on this arrogant piece of filth again.”

She turned to glare at a speechless Jess. “Do you understand, Calenbry? You will receive your notes from my class copied by Duggin here. Be grateful. You will take whatever chastisement he has for you as just reward for the trouble of your very existence. Who knows? Perhaps in some far-off future, when you are other than the pathetic wretch you are now, you will find it useful. Perhaps it will save the lives of whatever fools actually serve under you.”

Her angry gaze hardened. “Had you even bothered to attend my lectures before your fall, you would know that I teach military doctrine as well. Hyve and Eloquin are not the only professors of tactics and military history at this school, and most of the king’s men depend upon a cautious approach. A disciplined approach. One that saves lives from folly. Much like the lives lost on your latest ill-fated mission.” She shook her head. “Your entire band put in jeopardy thanks to the actions of one hot-headed girl. You didn’t think to even grace me with your presence but once, when so many lives depended upon you. Don’t expect me to have anything but contempt for a creature that only comes crawling for aid when she is finally laid humble and low, too arrogant to learn, and so much blood lost for her folly.”

She abruptly spun about, a warrior’s grace, striding to the front of the classroom, projecting her voice loud enough for the class entire to hear. “And don’t worry about appearing for the finals, Calenbry. You and I both know you will be leaving this school in richly deserved tears long before that day ever arrives.”

Hoots and laughter followed those words, Jess shaking so badly she had to hold the desk, never having felt so humiliated in her entire life.

A shame well-deserved, if memories of her commander’s furious gaze was anything to go by.

So she sat as her teacher spoke on, unable to move, silent tears streaking her cheeks as she stared at her desktop, unable to bear the teacher’s contemptuous stare a moment longer.

It was a struggle just to get up and face the hostile glares as she stumbled out of the classroom, too crushed even to resist when abrupt shoves sent her sprawling, smirks sent her way as she crashed to the ground yet again.

And the day had just begun.

It was dark at last, the bustle of the keep long past, and Jess lay curled up in her bed, too exhausted to do anything about the painful throb of her tortured back, reliving every degradation, every caustic comment, every derisive laugh sent her way.

Never in all her days had she thought she would be the butt of such scorn, such derision.

Remarkably, not all her professors were as awful as Lady Chevalier, but more than one had made it clear that they found her presence a distasteful stain upon the king’s honor.

A few professors had actually surprised her.

The philosophy and ethics professor, a short, stout man with wispy white hair and a kindly gaze had greeted her with a cool nod. “Welcome, Supplicant. For all that folly has lain you low, there is ever virtue in an honest desire to better oneself. It is my hope that you are able to learn from our discussions. Your silence is expected, but you are welcome to feast upon the insights I present.”

He turned to the class at large. “There will be no mockery of Calenbry before, during, or after my class, anywhere in the vicinity of this chamber. There is virtue in redemption, and the gauntlet of humility is a challenge few have the spine to endure. No matter that Calenbry dares the Penitent’s white, the solace of wisdom free of bitter bile shall be the feast that we all share in this class equally. Am I clear?”

And much to Jess’s amazement, not a single student castigated her during that class. Never had she felt so fiercely grateful to an academic professor before. He was a pudgy and soft, unlikely to survive more than a single skirmish in the cauldron of war, but for that hour Jess thought he stood like a giant, and she did her best to honor him by taking in every word he said.

Yet save for the solace of that one class and one other where the professor made it clear that the jeering nobility would never be tolerated, the rest of her day had been worse than she could possibly have imagined.

Thirst and hunger both tormented her, but she couldn’t bear the thought of the ugly hate to be revealed in the dining hall, lest those who had previously paid her no attention openly mocked and jeered, former friends hanging their heads, saying not a word on her behalf. And really, after jeopardizing the lives of her fellow Squires, how could she blame them?

Jess fought a losing battle against the sobs escaping her even now. She didn’t think she could bear it. Not at all.

She gazed wistfully at the forest line, a shadowy comfort off in the distance beyond the fields adjoining the school, the moon shining high above, and wondered what it would be like to escape the shameful nightmare her life had become, to leave this school and all its now bittersweet memories behind, and never look back, not even once.

She shook her head, flashing the battered girl in the mirror a sad smile. “I’m not going to give up that easy,” she promised herself, before turning once more to the grand tome filled with stories of adventure and wonder that she had been gifted, losing herself in those pages, suddenly curious about what it would be like to dip into the waters of living dream.

To live a life of daring and glory, where her status as a Delver would protect her from so many social strictures as she hunted for ancient secrets and lost treasures, her past no more relevant than a fairy tale long forgotten as she chased after wondrous adventures forever more.

She heard a tentative knock at her door, her heart skipping a sudden beat, infected with the sudden fear that students had come to mock and harass her yet again.

But no. A tentative touch showed only the gentlest of presences, free of malice or bile.

Jess opened the door, gazing down upon a cheerful countenance. A tow-headed boy of perhaps eight summers, skinny, for all that she knew him to be the head cook’s boy, exchanging a wink with one of the laundrywomen even then darning bed sheets in the alcove by the storage room across the hall. The only room in some distance, allowing Jess considerable privacy, thanks to the unusual design of this wing, and Jess knew for a fact not a soul had been able to open that door since the summer had begun.

However long ago that was.

After all, she had been the one to seal it shut, locking away the deadly secrets hidden still within.

The servant caught her gaze, honoring Jess with the smallest of nods before continuing with her darning, Johnathan quickly handing Jess a crock full of hearty pork and bean stew, well-cooked, before darting to the servant who slipped the boy a jug of what Jess sensed must be ale, presenting it to Jess with a smile.

“Thank you so much, Johnathan,” Jess whispered, quickly placing the items out of sight in her quarters. “but I would cause you and your mother no trouble for helping me.”

Johnathan frowned. “Mother says it’s an outrage. What does that mean?”

Jess smirked. “It means that life can be very, very complicated.”

“But didn’t you save those wizards? Mother says she had trays brought to the mages wing, and Ansa overheard several of the mage ladies sobbing and carrying on that they had been captured by evil wizards and were a heartbeat from cruelest death, and you saved their lives, charging like a Valkyrie. One girl thought you had wings. Is that true?”

Jess crinkled her eyes, grateful for the smile he inspired. “No, Johnathan, nothing like that. And there are some rumors we should never say aloud, even if they have a sliver of truth. But please give your mother my thanks.”

Johnathan nodded solemnly. “Mother says thank you, by the way. She knows you are the one who saved us from pink-lung when everyone sickened earlier this summer, you and Lady Vaila with your magic potions, and mother always pays her debts, but she said she can’t ever replace me, so you should always count her your friend.”

The tear Jess wiped away was of sweetest joy, her sore heart lightened like the first rays of sunlight caressing a ravaged garden after the worst of storms.

“I thank you, Johnathan. That means more to me than you know.”

The boy grinned then, giving Jess an impulsive hug before darting off. “It will be okay, Jessie, you’ll see!”

Jess ignored the jolt of pain his squeeze had caused, smiling at his back before locking gazes with the woman knitting still, bowing her head in gratitude.

“Not all of us forget what matters, Lady Calenbry,” the servant murmured, gathering her things, as if deciding at that very moment that her work day was done.

“I won’t forget either,” Jess softly promised, smiling gratefully at the servant as she passed, knowing she wouldn’t forget the care-worn yet handsome face, nor the thoughtful intelligence behind eyes heavy with the weight of the tumultuous world all servants lived in.

She sighed in deepest pleasure as the last of the delicious stew and much needed ale passed her lips; tasty drink, for all that it had been so very mild, table ale allowing for a clear head and safer to drink than water alone.

She indulged in one more tale about a questing prince and a talking frog before she lay down once more, reminiscing upon words Jacob had said during their last circle meeting.

The call of adventure. Delvers exploring lands of myth and living dream, but a footstep away in directions wild and strange, and Highrock itself expecting a rift to open in the days ahead. Jess found her thoughts wandering in unexpected directions, daring to wonder at wild dreams she would have thought utter folly, just days ago.

It was then that she heard the knock on her door. Imperious, demanding, just like it's owner.

Jess hissed and whimpered, forcing her agonized body to stand straight once more, lurching to her door. "Go away, Mord."

Mocking laughter, just feet away. "Ah, Jess. to hear your ragged voice. To know you stand but feet before me, trembling and worn, your body shuddering with sweetest torments still. Open the door, Jess, I have a gift for you."

"The hell I will!" She sobbed, exhausted, worn, heart racing with panicked fury to know her nemesis was just beyond, no doubt savoring her humiliation, her downfall.

"I won't touch your person this eve, Jess, not without your say. On that you have my word. So open the door, Jess, unless you would call me liar and oath-breaker both."

Jess hissed, clenching her eyes shut, hating to be so maneuvered, and by a man who could very well seal her fate in nightmare. With a resolute nod, she allowed the door to open, her reasoning brutally practical. She loathed him, but his word had value. And should he break her trust, far better one more betrayal than a lifetime chained to a monster.

Her door slowly opened to reveal Mord's smiling countenance, wearing tunic and hose of darkest crimson. Tight, formfitting attire he favored for the looks of admiration it garnered him, Jess herself seemingly the only one immune. She glared into eyes shimmering in the hall lights like chips of obsidian as Mord shook his head all too knowingly, favoring Jess with a soft chuckle.

"Ah, my little moppet, to fall so low trying desperately to save those who have already failed themselves. Breaking the chain of command, putting scores of lives at risk, all because you lack the resolve to do what needs to be done."

"They were going to die!" Jess heard her voice crack, knowing she was playing right into Mord's hands.

He tisked and shook his head. "And in your desperate attempt to save them, you lost your best friend and nearly lost two score of Erovering's best fighters. You put their lives at risk because, ultimately, you're a woman, ruled by a woman's weaknesses, a woman's emotions. And your foolishness near destroyed the very people you swore to protect at all costs."

"I saved my friends. Almost all of us made it!" Jess cried, knowing it was useless to explain herself to her enemy, unable to keep herself from trying.

He pinned her with his dark gaze. "You're a woman and you're weak, Calenbry. Forty of our finest near perished thanks to you. Far better for Highrock to exile you now, before you get a regiment of men killed in a real war."

He sighed, his gaze one of cold pity, tossing her a silver flask. She caught it out of reflex, though she trembled with shame and fury both.

"Your place is in your master's home, tending to his needs. For all that you've fought your fate for years, you have just proven your nature beyond a shadow of a doubt, for all the world to see."

He gazed down at the flask in her hand. "Laudanum. It will dull the pain. And if you ask real nicely, there is more where that came from." His lips curled into a cold smile. "You'll find the solace it gives you sweet. It will numb mind and body both, and if you drink enough, euphoria. Near sweet as a man's pleasure. And if you please your master enough, there is no limit to how much I will let you savor."

Jess shuddered, dropping the silver flask. "I don't want your drink, Mord."

Mord's dark chuckle was all too knowing. "Sure you do. keep the flask. There is more where that came from. All you need to do is ask. And when you are ready to finally submit to me, there will be no limit to the sweet release that shall be yours; laudanum, absinthe, even hashish infused brandy." He gazed at her hungrily. "All you need to do is submit, my sweet. It can all be yours."

Jess lurched back, heart hammering with horror, sickened by the look in his eyes. "Leave, now!"

Mord winked. "You know where to find me, my soon to be my wife, tied by chains of rapture and need."

Jess screamed and slammed the door shut, shuddering as she heard Mord's laughter echo down the hallway, slowly fading away.

She glared at the silvery flask lying on her woolen rug, shining so brightly in the moonlight reflecting from her window, promising such release. A few delightful sips, just to ease the constant throbbing pain.

"Bloody hell I will," she hissed, picking up the flask only to send it spinning out her window, feeling a savage satisfaction at how far it sailed, never mind the sudden sharp throb spiking through her back.

Trembling with pain and exhaustion, it was all she could do just to pull up cool linen sheets over her shuddering frame, slipping at once into tormented sleep.

30

Jess, help me!”

Jess shivered at those words, even as howling black winds enveloped her, hideous darkness thick as ink. Not even her hands could she see.

“Jess?”

“Malek!” Jess screamed, “where are you?”

“I can’t find my way back.”

Howling darkness. Jess shivered as the most horrific of fears lanced through her.

“Malek! Were you taken by the storm?”

“Jess… I’m tired.”

Anxious hope was flooded by panicked desperation. “No, Malek, don’t give up! Follow the sound of my voice. I’m here for you!

“Jess…”

“Please!”

A mournful howl, far off.

And Jess ran as fast and furiously as her legs could take her, never mind that she could feel nothing beneath her feet, just a desperate surge of panicked fear, racing into the darkness, desperate to find her friend.

“Jess, I can’t hold on.”

“Malek!” Jess screamed, able to see him at last, or the dream of him, holding desperately upon the lip of a howling whirlpool seeking to suck him in.

Terrified feet ran at a frantic pace.

Jess shuddered and lurched to a stop.

Jess!

Malek, gazing at her with such panic, grip weakening as he was slowly pulled into the shrieking winds, sucking everything into a shadowy vortex.

The maw of a massive jackal, black as death, eyes burning with all the fires of Hades.

Eyes filled with such pain lanced her own. “I’m sorry Jess, I tried.”

His hand slipped free.

“Don’t give up!”

Swallowing her terror, Jess leaped into the maw of that hideous beast, the eye of the storm that had come so close to killing them all, desperately grasping Malek's hand with her own.

“Oh no, Jess,” he sobbed, "now we will both be consumed by Shadow.”

Jess gazed at her friend, saw his dread and panic as they slid down that gullet of endless nightmare turn into a smile, bleak as strange.

A smile Jess shared as she drowned in visions of gore-spattered battlefields choked by sulfurous fumes. Memories of crimson banners snapping upon the battlements of vast ancient cities of lead and bone, hideous armies of hellions dark and foul, now racing through her mind.

Both their minds.

As one they laughed.

Suddenly not afraid, not afraid at all.

And the Shadowstorm that had swallowed them tasted fear in its gullet, and so began to tear through the countryside once more.

But it was too late.

For the terrible beings that had once been closest friends remembered what creatures of Shadow and darkness had long forgotten.

Living storm shrieked like a thousand howling gales until its cry was but the faintest breeze, consumed so utterly that not even its memory was left.

For Jess was the blackness. The Void in the heart of the starry night sky, stars exploding as they approached her dreadful apex, her terrible wolf of flame and fury by her side, devouring them in endless supernovae. They gazed into the brilliant starry skies surrounding them, their ravenous howls causing billions of stars to spin ever faster in a hideous vortex before rupturing in shrieking, brilliant agony, consumed by the event horizon of their endless hunger.

Until there was nothing left but the eternal reverberations of the forces and fields that comprised reality itself, and with famished howls, wolf and Void devoured even that, the very cloth of existence bursting into fiery oblivion.

The end of all things.

31

Jess? Jessie, wake up!”

Josie’s voice.

Jess lurched from her covers, stumbling off her bed in a heap, still choking back the most horrid of screams, soaked in fear sweat, sobbing with terror.

It had been so awful. So gods-awful.

She saw her mother’s exquisite gift of a full-length mirror and flinched away, terrified by what she would see, the hideous monster with glittering eyes that would be wearing her face, her lips splitting in the most awful of grins, a thousand sharpened fangs, gnawing away.

Jess screamed and shook, Josie’s pounding increasing in pitch.

“Jess! Oh, by all the saints, please open this door, Jessie. You left the Healers Wing before Jevons could finish your treatment! He is sick with worry. He said you were to check in with him before you returned to quarters, but you never showed!”

Jess took a deep breath, forcing her racing heart to calm.

Never did she recall a dream so awful as the one she had just fled.

Bleary eyes blinked, taking in her pounding door.

She relaxed some strange muscle she couldn’t explain, the door easing open to reveal an anxious Josie pounding frantically on her door, a worried Raphael gazing protectively on.

His face lightened with relief before frowning with concern. “Josie, I do believe she’s tumbled from her bed. Come. Let’s bring her to the healers.”

But Josie had already dashed to Jess’s side, eyes wide with panic.

“Oh, by all the gods, Jess, you shouldn’t even be in quarters! When I heard what that bloody head proctor had done, I swear I wanted to beat him senseless myself! Please stop flinching, Jessie, I need to examine you, make sure you are okay.”

Jess blinked, still feeling groggy, utterly disoriented, grateful to see Josie’s tender expression. To know that someone still cared about her.

“But, Josie, I don’t think you are supposed to even talk to me. I’m… I’m penitent now. Having fallen so low, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You are too precious to risk falling prey to that vile proctor. Not for a second, would I allow that."

“Nonsense!” Josie snapped. “We’re friends. We’re there for each other.”

Raphael nodded firm agreement.

“Besides,” Josie winked, “I’m a healer training directly under Master Jevons, and he has specifically remanded you to my care, and he will make it quite clear to proctors, General Eloquin, even the dean, that when it comes to the care of injured patients, his precedence supersedes all others.”

She turned back to her beau, gazing at her so protectively.

“And what with various goings-on, students suffering from tainted drinks, reports of threats even in the baths, no one objects to girls taking escorts wherever they go, even if it’s their lovers and everyone knows it. But no proctor dares to say a word, lest another denizen of our keep go missing, and on their heads’ would go the blame.”

Jess gazed at her friend in alarm. “Someone’s gone missing?”

Josie nodded. “That’s the rumor that’s going around. I haven’t had a chance to track it down. We were only informed with our first period class.

“Oh no, I missed first period.” Jess shook. “I can’t do any more than I am. Oh gods, Josie, even this, even this…” Jess squeezed her eyes tightly shut, hot tears springing for still. “Everyone, treating me like I’m less than dirt. Students mocking me, shoving me over, my professors calling me a pathetic fool… I’m dying inside, Josie. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Josie’s eyes glittered with outrage. “How dare they. How dare they! This whole thing is an outrage, Jess. Jera and Alex explained everything. You didn’t put any student’s lives at risk, you led the charge that saved them!”

Her face paled, tears running down her cheeks as well. “By all the gods, Jess, those vile monsters were sacrificing our friends! Cutting them open, whispering dark enchantments I shudder even to think about. You saved our friend's lives, when your own damned coward of a commander would have turned tail and run!”

And suddenly it was Josie crumpled over and sobbing, Jess catching her and holding her close, prepared for her back’s furious protest, but strangely not a ripple in pain-filled waters troubled her.

Raphael’s gaze also conveyed sharpest empathy, even as he gently took a sobbing Josie from Jess’s arms, Jess lurching to her feet, surprised anew at how limber she felt.

Hardly the broken, trembling wreck of the day before.

She nodded resolutely to herself. The cook’s hearty broth and good table ale had been just what she needed. She had been a fool to deny herself food and water the entire day before, no matter how bitterly she regretted having made enemies of so many teachers, students now having free reign to mock her at will.

She was determined to focus on the one ray of light in days bleak and terrible. “Alex, Jera, their friends... is everyone okay?”

Josie turned to Jess, gazing at her so tenderly Jess had to look away.

“Yes, Jess. Of those that survived. Of course there are bitter tears for horrors endured, lives lost, awful regret for trusting guards that none of us could have known were corrupt, all of those burdens weigh them down. But most of all, what they feel is gratitude. Gratitude for getting one more chance to savor life’s sweetness, no matter the shame of their folly. Gratitude for Squires daring so much in coming to their rescue. And for all that Eloquin had scolded them so fiercely, when those few who had no beau or lost their beau went to the revels to wash away horror's memory, they were not turned away.”

Jess grinned at that, even as Josie flushed.

“Not that it is any business of mine, but I think maybe a few of our peers felt fiercest gratitude for strong, handsome Squires who had risked their lives to save them, who had delivered them from the most horrific of nightmares.”

Jess sighed. “That’s not so uncommon. When a girl or boy is saved from peril, whether a serf from slaver, or a noble girl from a captor only hours away from slicing her throat, they do tend to fall in love with us. At least for a time, and we are far too passionate to deny them, if we feel that same hunger as well.”

Raphael swallowed. “Is that, I don’t know how exactly to put it, you saved their lives, after all...”

Jess nodded. “It may sound strange, fierce feelings inspired in darkest circumstances that would otherwise never occur, but the love is no less intense for that, for all that it might never have blossomed otherwise. It is as if fighting for one’s life cuts through all conventions and poise. Idealized heroes and perfect husbands are one thing, but the man who risks his neck to save your own skin proves himself a worthy mate like no other.”

Raphael smiled. “Well said, Jess.”

Jess chuckled softly. “Of course, people from wildly different lives don’t always mesh after the first furious burst of passion, but more than one young lass who was destitute, sold for slavery, has found herself the proud owner of a cozy little farm. The nobleborn Squire who had saved her and cherished her often becomes her patron when rank precludes marriage, his own family’s farmhands helping her out until she is established. And sometimes, well, we all know a couple young women, ostensibly Highrock servitors, who really just care for the one Squire that saved them or touched their heart. They are wives in all but name, and seeing as how so many of those we saved had been sold as slaves, suffering the worst horrors imaginable, with no place to go, the dean, thank the gods, turns a blind eye. He let it be known that anyone who has dared the crucible of battle for Highrock, Squire or Aspirant, may handfast a girl or boy who touched their heart and live together without censure, all other conventions aside."

Raphael nodded. “Sweet enough an ending, and certainly not limited only to those with a soldier's passions. More than one noble scion at this school and elsewhere has handfasted a commoner in the heat of passion, his lover and any offspring given comfortable lives when duties of marriage at last make themselves known. Fortunately, no one dares to shame a noble’s mistress, for to insult her is to insult her patron, a foolish move few would dare, even in the capital.”

Jess closed her eyes and smiled. “I'm glad they can find some happiness to wash away the horrors they endured.”

“And it’s all thanks to you, Jess,” Josie said, pivoting away from Jess’s gaze, examining her back. “And don’t think we’re going to let anyone forget it.” And suddenly a silence so profound Jess heard nothing but the din and cry of youths training outside her window, faint and far off, a warm summer breeze ruffling the various papers upon her hardwood table, covered as it was in tomes, treatises, wax tablets, and scraps of scribbled parchment.

“By all the gods,” Josie whispered.

Jess felt her gut clench. “How bad is it, Josie? I was a fool to leave early, wasn’t I? I just, I just couldn’t bear it when Jevons kept insisting that the best thing for me to do was to leave. That I had done so much good, Squires and Aspirants both sobbing confessions in the depths of their pain about what really happens when we blacken our daggers, things he swore never to repeat. All he will say is that my wearing this robe is madness.” Jess allowed herself a sharp, bitter laugh. “And I find that more than half my professors hate me, so much of the school holding me in darkest contempt, and it feels like they always have.”

Jess clenched trembling fists tight. “But I will endure it, Josie. I will endure it. For I will not flee this school I love so fiercely, no matter the jackals nipping at my heels!”

“Jess...”

“I will not leave!” Jess sobbed.

A gentle hand stroked her tear-stained cheek. Josie's graceful smile pierced Jess’s heart.

“Your back is, well, I think Jevons healed you better than he thought! These scars look weeks old, and your flesh has not buckled and puckered.” Jess felt a curious tingle skitter down her back. She squirmed at the tickling sensation.

“Behave, Jess,” said an exasperated Josie. “I swear, you react so strangely to a healer’s art. Anyway, I sense no scarring within your musculature, and the lashes upon your back look so much better than when you first came to us.”

Jess vented a relieved sigh. “Thank all the gods, Josie.” She allowed a brittle chuckle. “Yesterday was so horrible, I shudder even to think about it. I’m not sure what Master Jevons did, but if healing magic takes a few days to kick in, I am still grateful.” She gave a resolute nod. “I think, perhaps, I can bear it now.”

She turned to her friends, and perhaps it was something in her eyes. They turned away before she could even finish the question.

“Has there been any word on Malek?”

“I’m sorry,” Josie whispered. “Not yet. But from what Alex and Jera said… don’t give up hope, Jess. Never that.”

“I won’t.” Jess wiped away stubborn tears. “Well then, I guess it’s time I headed to class.” She gazed at her supplicant’s robe with disgust, shaking her head before putting it on.

Raphael opened the door. “Come, Jess. Let’s at least escort you to your next class. Though we dare no more than that, should anyone challenge me for it now or later, I will be more than happy to share stories of a girl of noble temperament and fiercest loyalty they would all be lucky to have as a friend.”

Jess gave Raphael an impulsive hug at those gentle words, amazed once more to be free of crippling pain that would have sent her sprawling but hours ago.

“We are having a Circle meeting tonight. We will escort you there,” Raphael whispered as they neared other students, gazes now equal parts contempt and surprise. “We will pass the Healers Wing and explain you need treatment, if any proctor or student dares to question us.”

Jess nodded, grateful for the thought of sweetest respite, the balm of friendship, even as she endured caustic stares and contemptuous comments washing over her once more, happy none dared spit at her or shove her to the ground, no doubt the benefit of walking in the company of a healer-in-training and the scion of a named lord.

Their friendship would protect her not at all when they continued on with their day, but at least the students were reminded that Jess did have powerful allies who still cared about her, even in her moment of greatest shame, censured by the school entire.

They, at least, had not abandoned her.

Jess was grateful not to be late for her first class, Squires having a later start than other students, all knowing that their martial training took place every morning and evening without fail. Yet despite her diligence, Jess found herself speared by the same contempt that had haunted her the day before.

Hostile glares and snide comments washed over her, even as Lady Chevalier caught Jess’s gaze, her one good hand clenching into a tight fist, stomping over toward her.

“I thought I made it clear that I did not want to see your face again, supplicant!”

The class roared with hoots and jeers at that.

Jess closed her eyes and forced her trembling breath to calm. “I am sorry to displease you, instructor, but my master bade me attend every class that I could, without exception. You may castigate me as you wish, I have earned that chastisement in going against his wishes before battle was joined, but you cannot deny me entrance to this class.”

Jess jerked her eyes up, determined to meet her instructor's gaze, dark eyes hauntingly beautiful, for all that she stared at Jess with icy disdain.

“I will not be expelled for failing to attend a class I was assigned, simply because you find my presence distasteful. No written contract was made between us, so it would be all too easy for you to accuse me of sloth, when I did but follow your directive.” Jess forced bitter lips into a cold smile. “If that was your gambit, well played.”

Her professor’s eyes widened with fury.

A surprisingly fast palm cracked against Jess’s jaw.

She let the pain rock through her, rolling with it, doing nothing to dodge the blow.

The class silenced, Jess turned back to gaze at the heaving professor for her. She dipped her head. “You have a warrior’s strength, all your weight behind the blow. Well done. I thought you were a fighter, I see that I’m right.”

“Silence, you bloody wretch! I gave you no leave to speak to me as an equal. None!”

The girl heaved, even her injured hand curled into a claw of a fist, gazing at Jess with such glittering hate.

Jess sighed, lowering her head once more. “I’m sorry you hate me so, professor. I am not your enemy. I am here to learn. Not here to trap you with your own folly, for all that it is your hand print against my cheek.”

“Students died for your folly!” Professor Chevalier shrieked. “How can you even live with that, let alone tend this class? You should be on your knees, praying before every temple, no matter how lax your faith, hoping some god somewhere can forgive the sins at your feet! The men who died because you acted the fool, when you should have stood strong!”

Jess was chilled to see tears streaming down the professor’s cheek, so many things clicking into place at that moment.

There was so much she could have said.

So many avenues to strike.

Instead, she bowed her head. “I truly regret that my presence offends you so. I shall sit in back of the class, and trouble you not at all.”

“Your very presence troubles me, Calenbry!” she hissed. “Very well. Stay. But turn your seat and face the wall! I don’t even want to see your face.”

And Jess did just that, doing the best to endure yet another bitter day of snide comments and outright contempt, professors calling her a fool for not having memorized materials studied long before Jess had ever thought to attend their class, students laughing at her folly even as she wiped away furious tears, knowing on some level that her professors were absolutely right.

She was grateful for the respite of her ever genial philosophy professor, waxing eloquent on the wonders of redemption, asking how many of those who accuse others of vile acts are themselves guilty of dark impulses they keep well hidden, earning more than a few flinches or frowns from students he gracefully pretended not to see, encouraging all his students to ask themselves in moments of quiet reflection, what were their own worst flaws, and what could they do to change them? For only then would they be worthy of the love, loyalty, and friendship every human craves, by committing to being just as good a friend and partner as they would want in return.

Jess left that class feeling strangely optimistic. As savage a Squire as she knew herself to be, or had been before she had lost everything, perhaps it was time she took a moral inventory and ask herself what she could do to be a better friend. So that those who cared enough to show her warmth in a school grown cold and hostile would not be disappointed.

“I thought I told you to leave, Calenbry!”

Hot words, filled with bile. Duggin, sandy hair swept into a braid today, glaring at her with open contempt, and only now did Jess recall why. His stance, the way he carried himself. One of the many students who had challenged for openings into the Squires ranks. All of them fully armored so as to provide protection, but no doubt their challengers knew exactly who various Squires were.

Especially Jess. Quite happy to fight with all her heart, laughing good-naturedly when she sent her opponents crashing to the ground, her quiet head-shakes when Eloquin would gaze at one hopeful or another being all he needed to see, trusting Jess’s judgment, her and Neal both, as to what hopeful student had what it took to blacken their dagger for king and Crown. Not only brilliance and skill with a blade, but a ruthless savagery Jess could just sense, entwined with a grim sense of love, loyalty, honor, integrity, an unnameable something that would assure that those who rode under Eloquin’s black banner would not themselves turn feral and nip at the heels of those they had once called brothers.

Duggin had not made the cut. Not by a mile.

And how his resentment had built and seethed. Only now, when she was vulnerable, exposed, without any apparent allies, he felt free to dispense bitter recompense for the slights he had suffered.

His feral smile made those feelings quite clear.

“Weak as a kitten still, aren’t you, Calenbry brat? Arrogant loathsome fool. Lives lost to your folly, and you dared to pass judgment on my fitness? On your knees, supplicant! As the lowest of the low, we of noble descent may dispense punishment as we see fit! So take your punishment, or leave this school with your tail between your legs like the coward you are.”

The crowd had dispersed. Only a few lingered, cold smiles making it clear whose camp they were in. Duggin smiled, cracking his fists. “I have plenty of time to deal with you now, bitch. One way or another, you’re going to regret what you did to me.”

Jess said nothing, centering herself, shifting her stance, gazing coolly at a glaring Duggin.

His face reddened with fury. “Turn your head down, bitch! I gave you no leave to meet my gaze!” He lunged forward, hands bunched to shove her crashing into the hard stone wall.

Powerful hands latched to Jess's arm. Not powerful enough.

Duggin stumbled as Jess abruptly pivoted, not fighting Duggin’s furious shove but flowing with it, through it, using his force to serve her instead.

Duggin was sent flying with a startled cry as Jess hip tossed him to the hard flagstone floor.

Duggin wheezed for a moment, stumbling to his feet, face no less furious than it had been a moment before. “That’s assault, supplicant!” His lips curled in a cruel smile. “I’ll see you kicked out for that, see if I don’t!”

Jess said nothing, favoring him with her most mocking grin.

He snarled, charging her with a roar.

Jess dropped as he sought to slam her to the ground, her hands grabbing his uniform even as she gracefully rolled to her back, legs coiled, pressed against his torso, springing them taut at the apex of her roll, Duggin crying out as he was sent flying down the hallway, landing with a crash and a groan, Jess rolling back to her feet as gracefully as she ever had in the training ring.

The onlookers were speechless, more than one snarling and spitting, though two flashed the slightest of nods, which Jess returned, one warrior to another. For in this school like no other, triumph in battle superseded all aspects of social rank or censure.

“Bloody bitch, you’re a supplicant! A fallen wretch despised by everyone! I’ll beat you just as hard as the head proctor did, see if I don’t!” Duggin roared, stumbling to his feet, baton held in trembling grip, plain for all to see.

“Don’t be an ass,” snorted a watching Aspirant. “Calenbry bested you, without throwing a punch. And whatever you may think, you are only free to speak your mind. Physically assaulting supplicants will get you wearing those same robes faster than you can blink.”

Hyve’s student chuckled as Duggin paled, swallowed, and beat a hasty retreat.

“What a fool,” the Aspirant said to no one in particular before sauntering off, the few bystanders leaving as well.

And for all that she cherished that momentary victory, a part of her feared Eloquin’s terrible gaze, lancing hear heart with his disappointment, leaving her writhing with shame.

“Bloody hells, he probably will blame me for the whole damn incident.” She shook her head, grateful the hallway was at least quiet, more determined than ever to avoid the dining hall below. For all that she knew her closest friends stood by her, to see so many scores of students she had once thought or at least hoped were passing fond of her to all be glaring at her or sneering their derision, masks torn free, black hate revealed at last with a single woolen robe as pretext, was a horror as fearsome as plunging into that vile Shadowstorm would have been.

All too happy to stumble into her quarters without further incident, Jess stretched and limbered her muscles, swinging practice saber and longsword in smooth even strokes, strikes flowing into guards and counters as gracefully as she could, a gentle warm up after the most savage of beatings, making sure no strain or stiffness still hindered her form.

When she finished with both weapons she gave a satisfied nod. Injury and exhaustion had left her slightly off her game, but a few solid meals and she would be at peek once more.

She smirked at her door, knowing she couldn’t endure any more derision this day. The dining hall might as well be in Velheim. She could only hope that food and drink would arrive much as it had last night, a welcome balm after yet another long day.

But it never did.

“Jessie, open up, it’s us. Fantastic news!”

Jess blinked open tired eyes, realizing she must have fallen asleep. Her throat was bone dry. She grimaced, knowing she had to stockpile some water flasks no matter how much she feared the humiliation of being mocked by hundreds of students at once.

“Jessie, open up!”

Recognizing Josie’s voice, Jess smiled and did just that.

She froze, her heart lurching in her chest.

Malek. Gazing at her with his warm brown eyes, a teasing smile upon his lips, and Jess flew into his arms, holding him so tightly, so fiercely, her tears leaking down his doublet.

“Malek! By all the gods, by all the gods! I thought you lost to us! Oh Malek, it would have killed me, had you perished in that mad gambit we took. Don’t ever do that to me again, shieldbrother, do you hear?”

His own eyes filling with silent tears, Malek softly brushed her cheek. “You are crying, shieldsister.” His words seemed filled with a strange kind of wonder. “What a silly thing to do.”

Jess laughed the words away, kissing him fiercely, so grateful to see him alive.

Malek laughed, holding her tight, spinning her once before gently putting her down. “Come, shieldsister, we have a meeting to attend, do we not? I will explain everything when we get there.” Gently taking her hand in his own, he led the way at a rapid pace, a smiling Josie and Raphael but feet behind.

32

You must be dying of thirst,” Josie soothed, handing Jess a tall glass of chilled milk. Jess drank deep, grateful beyond words for the cool relief it brought her.

“Thank you, Josie,” Jess replied, gazing approvingly at her friend's sky-blue dress, her rosebud lips dyed crimson, kohl perfectly lining her eyes, gorgeous honey blond hair curled up in an exquisite cascade falling down her left shoulder, and Jess just knew she had done it all for the man gazing so warmly, so hungrily at her even now.

“You are a lucky man, Raphael,” Jess grinned, receiving a wink from her friend in return, today wearing doublet and hose of darkest silk, only a few shades from royal purple, but acceptable enough for the son of a duke.

“He is very lucky,” Josie agreed, gazing warmly into Raphael’s eyes, dipping her head down, kissing him softly, smiling at his adoring expression, gently wrapping his arms around her as she sunk into his lap and sighed, happy as could be in the protective embrace of the man who loved her.

Jess chuckled throatily at Josie's absolute conquest of Raphael, gazing at her like a priceless diamond he alone got to hold and cherish. Jess turned to meet her shieldbrother’s gaze, heart lightening up beyond all words, gazing at the man she loved so fiercely. A man she would happily fight or adventure beside all her days. And Jess was determined only to feel happiness for the still sobbing Jacob who was holding Malek so tightly, as if afraid he would lose him still.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, my love, just don’t,” Jacob whispered, even as Malek held and rocked his gentle lover close, whispering soothing words of comfort. “It would kill me. I swear it would. You don’t know how much I need you. How much I love you. You great big fool, you have no idea.”

Malek winked over his sobbing lover’s back, Jess chuckling softly as he did.

“Oh, I think I do, my precious Jacob, I think I do.”

“I can’t wait to hear your story, my friend,” enthused an animated Raphael, still holding Josie close, all of them basking in the joys of love and sweetest friendship as they waited for their remaining two companions to arrive.

A tentative knock. Jess lifted herself off the comfortable leather chair she had long ago claimed as her own, her hands gently touching the door to that hidden little library, and with a satisfied nod the door clicked open, letting in the two final members of their coterie.

The Circle of Midnight, together once more.

Trembling, an oddly solemn Alex led Jera to the space between their seats and divans in the heart of the chamber, slowly falling to his knees, Jera following suit, bowing to a bemused Malek and finally to a horrified Jess, still wearing her penitent’s robe.

“Malek. Thank all the gods that somehow, by some miracle, you came back to us. I cannot tell you how much my heart tormented me, thinking that my gods awful folly had costed you your life, along with Ilia. And poor Abella.” Tear-filled eyes locked upon Jess’s own. “You bearded the lion in his den, charging living madness to save your fool of a friend. Carrying my beloved in your own arms as we raced back for shelter, calling on magics I can’t begin to fathom, holding our souls to the woods when that hideous storm would have sent us all to Hell.”

Tears dripped freely down his cheeks. “I will never be able to repay you, Jessica de Calenbry. But I will always, always, fight by your side.” He swallowed, forcing himself to speak. “I… I will join your ranks. I will train. I will try to be worthy of your cause.”

He turned away from a speechless Jess, bowing low before Malek. “By all the gods! The way you ripped through their protective wards they were so damned certain no mortal could pass. The awful magics you embraced, taking them down. I cannot tell you how terrified I was for your soul, and how grateful I am to your spirit, for daring to save me and my beloved and all our friends from such horrific, horrific folly.”

Sobbing, he banged his head to the ground. “I am your man, Malek. Whenever you have need of me, you or Jess, I am here for you. I am here for you both.”

Jess blinked in shock, yet it was Malek who gently raised his friend, maverick smile firmly in place. “Don’t be an idiot, Alex. I did what any good friend would do.”

Jera’s laughter was filled with tears. “hardly, Malek. Hardly. All the more reason why Alex and I love you and Jess both so fiercely. You two are the best friends any soul could have.”

“And it’s not your fault,” Jess whispered, “so don’t ever say that again. You weren’t planning on getting yourselves stabbed in the back! All you wanted to do was hunt down an arcane lead and have a bit of an adventure with your friends and beau. Same as any clever mage making a name for himself. Alex, don’t you remember? Not even Jera believed your harebrained idea. She just wanted to spend some time with you. And if it turned out that you really had found the secret to eternal summer, well, you promised that you would do nothing to interfere with it, even if by some mad chance you had actually guessed right.”

Alex grimaced, shaking his head. “And still I feel the weight of it, all of it. And we never did get a chance to find that linchpin.” He laughed bitterly. “For all I know, you guys are right. Jera and I were out for a lark, to sleep hand in hand beneath the stars, enjoying the unseasonably fine weather, and it was all our enemies needed to lure us into a trap, and next thing you know...” Alex shuddered. “We were a heartbeat away from getting sacrificed to some awful god I heard those diabolists chanting about.”

Jera’s arms wrapped fiercely tight around Jess’s frame. “Angels' mercy, Jess, seeing the look in your eyes, charging into those horrific bastards, I had never been so fiercely happy to see anyone in all my life!” She broke down into sobs. “I was dying inside, when they cut into Abella. Her screams...they haunt me when I try to sleep at night. I swear, I don’t think I could ever bear to sleep alone again for the rest of my life.”

Malek’s soft chuckle. Alex, flushing even as he smiled so tenderly at his beau.

Jera flushed and smiled, but it didn’t hide the terrible pain in her bright green eyes. “And you, Malek. Charging into their horrific magics like that… I know you are good with wards, Malek, almost as good as Alex himself. But honestly, when they cast their vile spells, the way they gloated, gazing at you all so mockingly, I didn’t think elementalist magics had a chance to pierce their vile spells.”

“It can’t.” Alex gazed solemnly at Malek, the room gone quiet. “There is no way, absolutely no way that Malek should have been able to pierce that veil. That you did, Malek… again, I will never be able to repay the debt I owe you for that.”

Malek flushed, unable to meet his friend’s gaze. “Honestly, Alex, the last thing I remember is Jess gazing at me like a queen of old, commanding me to save you all. And I just felt this terrible, fierce drive to see this through. To see you all safe, no matter the cost.”

Jess cringed to see Malek looking so wide-eyed and vulnerable. She gently clasped a trembling hand. “Be at ease, Shieldbrother,” she whispered.

Malek shook his head. “And the next thing I remember, I am waking up, shivering, covered in morning dew, just outside Highrock itself.”

Alex gazed intently at his friend. “What happened then?”

Malek sighed. “I was thirsty as the dickens, so after stopping by the kitchens, and all was in a panic down there, I can tell you, I grabbed a flagon of wine and a meat pie and stumbled my way to Eloquin’s quarters. I guess I knew that there would be no training today, as the revels last a week, so I didn’t bother with the grounds outside.” He chuckled softly. “Of course, I had no sense of how long I had been gone, so I could have been completely wrong, but there Eloquin was, gazing at me so strangely, demanding a full report."

Malek sighed, drinking deep of the flask his lover handed him. "Really, there wasn’t much to tell. As we had approached the forest’s edge, I felt the same keen desperation as I saw on your face, Jess, and when you followed your heart, so did I. We charged into our foes in unison, both of us equally fools not giving Neal those handful of seconds he needed to form up behind us, but we both knew Eloquin would then have had the pause he needed to shout our desperation down, to force us to watch like the most ruthless of tacticians as our friends were cut down, prudently retreating as that awful storm came roaring across the plane.

"If we were going to save you two, we had no choice but to seize the Vor and charge in that instant. And thank all the gods that none of our brothers or sisters in arms perished in that engagement. We broke through their lines, and the look you gave me, Jess, hand on my forehead as if a final benediction. Then I roared and charged their vile spells, feeling such burning hate for those laughing, mocking bastards, and the rest is blackness.”

Malek shook his head. “Though I swear I hear their screams. Those wizards. Much as I hate them, much as I shouldn’t care in the least, their screams haunt me still.”

Jera trembled, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. “Thank all the gods you didn’t abandon us, beloved Malek. Thank all the gods!” Her delicate hands clenched into fists. “When I think of that bastard just standing there, willing to let us die, and when you risked your soul to lead the charge to our rescue, Jess, and your only reward is being whipped half to death, forced to wear that penitent’s robe, laughed at and jeered and spat upon by our peers… it’s unbearable!”

Jess swallowed, gazing into her shieldbrother’s eyes, seeing how furious he looked, trembling fists more than capable of shattering bone clenched tight.

“I know you were forced to wear that robe, Jess. Our master castigated us both for fools. He said he had been a hairsbreadth from forcing Neal and I both to don similar garments.” Malek flashed Jess the bleakest of smiles. “I told him that however foolish our decision might have been, shaming the girl who warded his chosen from pike and arrow when her only crime was trying to save the lives of our friends because his pride had been pricked made him no better than Hyve.”

Malek chuckled ruefully. “And boy did he beat me then. I know I’m tough, but that man’s inhuman. And I know he was pulling his blows.”

Raphael paled. “Malek, my dear friend. Your courage knows no bounds. But perhaps there might have been a more diplomatic route...”

Malek grinned. “Oh, I know it was stupid, but the words needed to be said. After I picked myself up off the ground, he told me to report to the healers and to consider myself demoted. I told him I loved him as fiercely as the father I wish I had had. And what a strange look he had on his face then, before I made it clear that the moment you left school because of that damned robe, Jess, I was leaving by your side.”

Jess gave her closest friend a wordless hug. Thinking him a bloody fool, but grateful beyond words to know he was there, to have him safely by her side once more. “Don’t ruin your dreams on my account, Malek,” she softly said.

Malek grinned. “I’d like to think I won that round. He had nothing to say as I stumbled off to Master Jevons, who said in so many words that I was as strong and stupid as an ox, and fit to return to normal Squire duties, whatever they might be. But who gives a damn about that? What I want to know is who dared to demean you, shieldsister, and what asinine fool dared to tear your flesh with a whip? Bloodprice be damned, I will see him dead.” Malek's playful gaze had turned as hard and cold as Eloquin's, the moment before battle was joined.

The room grew deathly quiet. Jess swallowed. “There is no need, shieldbrother. As much as it torments me, Eloquin is right. I did break ranks, I did divide our forces with my mad charge, I did risk everyone’s life, and I never would have forgiven myself if even one of or brothers or sisters had perished.”

Blinking back tears, Jess smiled with all her heart at her solemn-faced friends. “But if it meant saving Jera, Alex, half a score innocent students from being slaughtered before my very eyes? You can bet your arse I would do it all over again. So we see that I’m a piss-poor commander, and perhaps it’s fitting that I am no longer a Squire of War.” Jess shrugged. “However skilled I am at dancing upon the battlefield, I could never be as ruthless as Eloquin wants us to be.”

Malek furrowed his brow. “Still, Jess, I would know who dared to demean you with words, spittle, or whip.”

“For all that I was near swooning, I remember Eloquin dealing with the man who saw fit to strike me. I think he’s learned his lesson.”

Jess shuddered at the memory of raw shrieks, the crackle of bones being crushed, realizing she had seen neither hair nor hide of the head proctor, Jess more than happy to never think of that man, or that night, ever again.

Jess patted Malek’s shoulder. “As far as bitter boys who failed their trials thinking I’m a wounded dove, despised by all, and so an easy target? I have made it clear I’m not so weak as all that.”

Josie gave a solemn nod. “I heard about you getting shoved and spat upon that first day, and could only imagine you near death, and how I scolded my master for letting you out of his care. Then I discovered that you had snuck off on your own. But when I found out that Jevons had called for your mother, I think I understood why. He wants to take care of you and make sure you’re safe. You want to fight on, and prove yourself at all cost.”

Jess nodded, finishing the last of her milk, grinning when Josie flounced from her beau’s lap to fill it on her behalf. Perhaps she wasn’t quite at full strength, so was happy to accept her friend’s largess, even if Raphael’s sigh made it clear that his lap was feeling lonely for company.

She winked at her friend, who grinned back.

“Here is some more chilled milk for you, Jess, but you need to start eating properly again, if you want to be at full strength.”

Jess lowered her head. “I would, Josie, but, well, I just can’t bear the thought of a hundred of our fellow students, so many I had hoped were at least warmly tolerant of me if not actually my friends, mocking and belittling me, gazing at me with open contempt.” Jess paled and shuddered. “I think I see why that poor apprentice mage left within days of being forced to wear this robe.”

“Her folly did cost a student his life, Jess,” Alex softly reminded.

Jess shook her head. “And won’t it haunt her for the rest of her life? His death, her inability to ever make amends, hundreds of people gazing at her with contempt and hate. Honestly, Alex, I doubt she’ll ever cast a single spell again, and I can only hope she doesn’t kill herself over the shame of it all.”

Alex looked away. “And Arbela and Ilia’s deaths are on my head, and not a single person derides me.”

“It’s not your fault!” Jera cried. “We all came close to death. None of us planned that, none of us would have dared that plain with the skies heavy with unnatural storms! We were kidnapped, Alex. Kidnapped and played for fools. And yes, fools we all were. But innocent, Alex, none of us intended for a single one of our friends to suffer, let alone perish.”

She turned to her friends. “At least one remarkable thing occurred during our expedition that wasn't a complete horror. I had just finished planting that seedling Jess had given to me, and was more amazed than I had ever been before in my life when it began to grow before our very eyes!”

Alex nodded. “It did. I even took notes, though those notes and everything else about our expedition has been lost, of course. Still, it was fascinating to watch a Druid’s working.”

Jess flushed, not knowing what to say to that.

Alex gazed down at trembling hands. “Then we ate, and I don’t know, I was just overcome with exhaustion, I had guessed from hiking for half the day, and we all nodded off. Then I’m struggling to wake myself when something thumps against my skull, and the next thing I know, I’m hog tide, and we are all being led through the woods in a journey that seemed to take forever, until we reached that awful site.”

Jera nodded, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. “Oh, how they gloated about the horrors they would inflict upon us, those bloody bastards! How terrified we all were! When we begged them to stop, pleading with them, so many of our friends frantic to offer ransom for their lives, all those monsters did was laugh! Laugh about the horrors they would inflict upon us, declaring us the mallet that would crack the wards around Highrock, that we would pay dearly for daring to interfere with their great working!”

Alex held her close as Jera sobbed, hugging him back fiercely. “So shut up, Alex. None of that madness was your fault!”

“Your beau is right, Alex,” Josie softly assured, having handed Jess an absolutely delicious sandwich of fried meats, soft bread, and mustard before slipping back into her beau’s lap. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Just the bitter lesson of knowing that even here, in the bosom of Highrock, serpents lay ready to strike.”

Raphael nodded. “But I have it on good authority that Eloquin is hunting down the perpetrators, any remnants that might still be in this school, and is actively interviewing, or perhaps interrogating would be the right word, all the school’s staff. Which is a lot, so that might take some time. At least Hyve’s Aspirants are taking their titles as guardians seriously, patrolling the grounds. Still, I refuse to leave anything to chance, and will not leave Josie unattended if I can help it.”

Josie smiled at her lover. “I am happy to have my escort see me safely to quarters during these perilous times.”

Raphael chuckled softly. “You may rest assured, my heart, that I will see you safely to all your classes, and when the dinner bell has rung, I will see you safely by my side, all the night long.”

Josie blushed as her friends chuckled good-naturedly.

“Careful, Josie,” Jacob teased. “The way you and Raphael carry on, you might soon find yourself eating for two.”

“Jacob! To say such a thing!” She grinned. “I’m a healer, Jacob. Nothing will blossom before I am ready for it to.” Josie’s hand slipped into Raphael’s. “When my beau is ready to claim me as his own, many healthy sons and daughters will I give him.”

Jess winked. “I think you have met your match, Raphael.”

Rapheal chuckled, softly kissing his lover. “She truly is my most precious treasure. The light of her smile is gold to my heart.”

Jess laughed, gazing at all of her friends, seeing their happiness, the tender love the held for one another. She felt a brilliant warmth flood through her, wiping away quiet tears of joy, knowing this moment would have been lost forever, if she had not acted as she had. She would not regret the sacrifice she had made, for all that she bitterly regretted every day she had to face with the weight of a penitent’s robes resting squarely upon her shoulders.

“Jess, are you okay?” A concerned Josie asked sometime later, the air alive still with the echoes of their warmth and laughter, or at least it felt so in Jess’s heart.

Jess flashed a reassuring smile. “I am fine, my friend. I’m just hoping someone can slip me meals in the evening, so that I can sleep without a growling belly.”

Malek cracked his knuckles. “If anyone gives you grief, Jess, the will answer to me.”

“Be careful, my friend,” Raphael said. “We all love Jess dearly, but we must be discrete, lest proctors take umbrage at us being too friendly with one who has, to their foolish eyes, fallen from grace.” He winked. “Fortunately, there are many subtle methods for us to lend our friend our support until this time of trials has passed. I certainly don’t see any reason why we can’t declare ourselves her tutors, the pursuit of scholarship transcending even punitive measures at this academy. And should I or another bring snacks and happen to leave them there, who could gainsay us?”

Alex nodded. “It is the least we can do. I will leave snacks, and yes, what tomes of adventure I can dig up. I noted how fond you were of that book of tales you now have, Jess, and what a fine present it was.”

Jess nodded. “I was sad to see Sable and Liam go, but they seemed happy together, and Julia looked happy, when I saw her in Liam’s arms.”

Jera and Josie both flushed, sighing. “They ran off for love.” Jera smiled. “That is the most beautiful ending I can imagine to their tale. Liam is a skilled apprentice battlemage, and I’ve seen how fast he can move his saber. Yet he is far too gentle for a Squire’s life, I think. But perhaps he’s exactly what Sable needed, after a lifetime of company like Mord’s.”

Jess bowed her head. “Her upbringing was not easy. And Mord, whatever you may think of him, whatever I may think of him, was probably the best thing in her life. The Plaga clan is not kind, and for all that I despise Mord, even I could see how fiercely protective of his sister he was.”

Alex nodded. “Not that I’ve seen hair or hide of Mord since I got back. He hasn't troubled you at all, Jess, has he?"

Jess grimaced, Mord's mocking laughter ringing in her ears even now. “He saw me once just to taunt me. I have no idea what he’s up to at the moment, and the less I see of him, the better.”

Malek growled, gently squeezing Jess’s shoulder. “Next time he dares to trouble you, I will be there, sister, and I will make him bleed for it. For all that he has had our backs when our daggers run black with blood, he crossed a line I will not forgive." He turned to a frowning Josie. "Don’t worry, I will stand fast by my shieldsister’s side. And if any proctor dares to take issue...” Malek’s grin was cold. “I’ll be happy to give him even more of a reason to take issue with me.”

“That could get you expelled, Malek,” Alex softly cautioned.

“As if I gave a damn at this point! Even if I leave a disappointment, even if I am a black sheep once more, I leave with the skills of a blooded Squire of War. I will hold my head up high, knowing I served my master well, helping to cleanse Erovering of the filth that would see half our citizenry sold as chattel. Those skills won’t disappear out of my head when I leave, nor the friends we’ve made.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps an adventurer's life will be for me.”

Alex chuckled. “Malek, wondrous tales aside, a Delver’s life is perilous in the extreme. Even if you can find the path to living dream, fairy tales made flesh, the monsters there are every bit as real as the adventures to be had, the treasures to be found. And most people who catch a glimpse of palaces or towers shimmering just beyond the horizon will find only ruins or oddly placed stones when they get there. Very, very few people actually have what it takes to tear themselves free of this world and slip into realms of Regio, embracing living dream.”

Jacob nodded solemnly. “They are also called the Shadowrealms, and for good reason. Those places are aligned closer to nightmare than any faerie tale. After all, didn’t you all come close to death, sucked up in some horrific Shadowstorm?”

Alex shook his head, gazing strangely at Jess. “Yet strangely we didn’t, anchored to the woods as we were by the silliest of stories, as hideous winds roared over our head. Somehow, I wasn't afraid. I felt as if I were a child playing in those woods, or visiting magic castles floating in the sky.”

Jera grinned. “She may not be the best student, but our Jess is a wonderful storyteller, when the world’s gone mad.”

Alex turned to Malek, smile gone, expression suddenly grim. “Unfortunately, my master still fears the rift will open. We have no enchantments to prevent it from manifesting, and so far, not a single Delver has answered our call, for all that we sent doves to several Guildhalls.” Alex sighed. “We can only hope not too many students catch sight of it, though it is unlikely in the extreme that anyone will see it clearly enough to actually step into the Shadow of its existence. The one silver lining is that Master Rens believes he has the magics needed not only to protect us, but to get a glimpse into whatever Shadowrealm awaits us, all from the safety of mundus.”

Malek grinned. “It makes sense. This is keep full of scholars and strategists, after all. First you must protect yourself from its manifestation as best you can, and as long as it’s all but crashing into our reality, of course we want to get a peek at what’s inside.”

Alex chuckled. “More or less. Still, it’s a shame that no adventurers answered the call, as they have the knack for finishing untold stories trying to manifest, and closing these sorts of rifts when they appear.”

Malek sighed. “A life free of judgment or censure. Permitted to carry on like lords, without a lord’s responsibilities or burdens, and no one gives a fig who they call consort.” He gently kissed Jacob, still nestled in his powerful arms.

Jess nodded. “And the thought of stepping into worlds of wonder, living the very adventures we read. I cannot think of a more fantastic life than that.”

Alex gazed at them both, giving a sad shake of his head. “I owe you both so much. My very life, in fact. Frankly, I don’t want to feed into this mad idea of yours, but, well, I will give you more than books of faerie tales, Jess. I will deliver Guild tomes depicting the supposed real life accounts of flesh and blood Delvers, their exploits captured and faithfully written by the bards every Guildhall has in its employ.”

Alex’s smile turned rueful. “They are tales of horror as well as adventure. You might find yourselves changing your mind about what I know you’re contemplating. But if not? Who knows? Perhaps I can persuade Master Rens that there are indeed aspiring Delvers ready to come to his aid as needed.” Alex winked. “Though it's more likely I'll just be offering fine seating to the ceremony that will soon unfold.”

Malek nodded. “That would be fantastic, Alex. And don’t worry, leaving the tomes in Jess’s quarters are fine. We will savor those adventures together.”

Jacob sighed. “And you are sure no proctor will misunderstand you spending hours every day in a female student’s quarters?”

Malek flashed a cold grin. “Jess and I most certainly will be studying, just not the tomes they expect. And if anyone dares take issue, I would be more than happy to throw them out the window of their choosing.”

“And what if they expel you, lover dear?” Jacob dryly asked.

Malek chuckled. “Then I get a head start on my adventuring career. For without my shieldsister by my side, even the thought of embracing the High Hunt has lost its luster.” He shrugged, exchanging solemn gazes with Jess. “Besides. As much as we enjoy the savage rush of righteous battle, I think Jess and I both have enough nightmares regarding the things we have done under our master's banner. I, for one, wouldn’t mind exploring these realms of living dream. It might actually be a refreshing change of pace."

Jess nodded her heartfelt agreement, their circle disbanding with final hugs and warm smiles of gratitude that left Jess floating on clouds of happiness as she made her way back to quarters, Malek by her side.

She turned to him, gently stroking his cheek. “So, you are really thinking of doing it, then?”

Malek chuckled softly. “More than you can imagine, Jess. More than you can imagine. I love Master Eloquin fiercely, for all that I hate him punishing you so, but I feel the dagger of regret, just like you do.” He gazed at Jess with sad eyes. “We all feel it, Jess. Why do you think Eloquin allows week-long revels, where we can love freely, passionately, imbibing the most decadent vices without censor? It gives us a break from the horror. Not only lives taken, death narrowly avoided, but memories of every time we’ve done this before.”

He shook his head and sighed, taking a sip from his tankard. “Honestly, Jess, for all that Alex was chasing a fantasy, this summer does feel like it's lasted forever.”

Jess nodded. “Father said that’s what campaign felt like, sometimes.” She frowned. “Still, the way he said they all lost themselves to deepest slumber, I can only wonder how that came about.”

Malek shrugged. “Enchantments, no doubt. Perhaps one of those Velheim wizards, foul diabolist that they were, had been stalking them, working in cahoots with those backstabbing guards. We all know that Velheim wizards are cut from different cloth than a true Erovering battlemage, but for all that their elemental magics are paltry compared to ours, their wizards can cast odd enchantments even my instructors admit to being puzzled by. No doubt they somehow trapped Alex and his friends in deepest slumber, once they turned in.”

Jess frowned. “Perhaps. Still, isn’t it strange that Alex’s wards didn’t trigger an alarm when enemies approached?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, shieldsister. I’ll see you in the morning. With food in hand. And hopefully Alex will bring us some interesting tomes to read.”

Jess grinned, looking forward to new, exciting tomes to lose herself in. Sleep, however, did not come easy, brooding upon how close Alex and Jera had come to the most horrific of ends.

33

A polite knock on her door and Jess answered it so fast Malek was left blinking, Jess having awoken with the first chirping of the birds as the sunrise touched the forest-lined horizon a fiery crimson, feeling, for the first time in days, a reason to greet the day with a smile. For just behind Malek was Alex, grinning back, holding a number of tomes, both of them making a quick entrance, with no trace of students or professors darting by her quarters at that hour.

Hair tousled, a sleepy expression still upon his face, Jess could tell Alex had hardly slept a wink.

She grinned at her friend, who blushed back. “Jera wore you out?”

Alex blinked, speechless, Malek bursting into laughter. “I can see she’s determined to savor life’s sweetness, so close you both came to losing it altogether.”

Alex chuckled softly, shrugging his shoulders. “My heart was heavy, I will admit it, thinking of the lives lost, but yes. In the end, Jera talked me back to my senses and reminded me that some things are too precious to let melancholy destroy, and if she can forgive me, perhaps I can learn to forgive myself.”

“It really wasn’t your fault,” Jess softly insisted. “We have vipers in our midst, unbeknownst to all of us. And for all that I am but a supplicant now, I would be by my master’s side in a heartbeat, trying to root this evil out.”

Alex nodded. “I have no doubt. And though it measures to insignificance compared to the boon you granted me, I hope these tomes can at least provide you with a few hours distraction. Malek, for his part, managed to smuggle a fair number of meat pies from sympathetic kitchen staff, for all that they seem preoccupied by their own troubles.”

His befuddled stare of moments before had been replaced by the keen gaze of a brilliant scholar. “It’s time I made sure that you both understand exactly what you are getting into. Make sure you both know what it is to catch glimpses of dream, and live to tell the tale.”

Alex held up a placating hand before Jess could interject. "You’ll read a number of tales with common themes. Questing knights traveling through a strangely quiet valley with nary a settlement in sight, only to see what appears to be a majestically shining palace in the distance. A palace that, as one approaches, turns out to be but a dilapidated tragic ruin; its former glory but a mirage. Yet were that same knight to give it one last forlorn look as it fades back into the distance it would appear a glorious, pristine castle once more."

Alex's voice pitched low and solemn. "And we all know the grandest stories depicted in plays or told by over campfires. Tales of those rare souls who could do more than just capture sight of a lost kingdom's forgotten glory in the distance. Stories of how brave fools with a certain knack, much like a bard's flare for conjuring tales so real it's as if he summons dreams sprung to life entire, can hold on to that majestic image in their mind's eye, and somehow approach that castle in all its lost glory. Approaching that mirage, as if it were as real as the feather-stuffed mattress you so casually sit upon this very moment, Jess, even as that adventurer appears to fade into shadow to any awestruck villager staring his way."

Jess smiled at her friend’s words, finding the idea of being able to jump in and out of mystical realms a wondrous gift indeed, even as Alex spoke on. “Such tales go on to say how such an adventurer will fade back into being a day or two later, pockets full of forgotten wealth and lost treasures, panicked or exhilarated, telling a tall tale of high adventure few would believe, yet he swears is the truth, only to forget his own tale by the next day.”

Alex paused, gazing quietly at his rapt friends. “As if it had all happened in a dream. Yet even if the poor tale spinner that no one took seriously has forgotten his own ravings of wondrous adventure, when he checks his pack, he will find that the treasures he discovered are as real as iron, even under the sober light of day.”

Alex looked coolly at Malek leaning back upon Jess’s bed, gazing at Alex with a bemused smile. "And sometimes, those foolish adventurers don't come back at all. For such is the nature of the Shadowrealms, those overlapping layers of memory and dream that lay at the very crossroads of existence itself. They are memories of power and glory, fragments of time so potent that they resonate infinitely among themselves. Wrinkles in the multilayered fabric that makes up our universe. Yes. Those places can hold onto the memories of lost treasures so perfectly that prizes successfully claimed are indistinguishable from reality, once pulled free of that living dream."

Alex caught Jess's eye, and shook his head sadly. “I know what you are thinking. How grand such adventures would be. But it is also true that such mini-realms are dangerous. Potentially deadly. Remember, my friends, these Shadowrealms lie upon the bleeding edge of reality, where what is real, what is memory, and what is dream become interchangeable. Uncertain. A terrible place where one misstep can leave your soul lost in some perpetual nightmare, forever. And even if you do manage to navigate your way through these mysterious realms of dream and horror, you are not alone.

"There are awful things that lurk within those Shadowrealms. Dark specters of living nightmare. Vile things that were once men before being warped and corrupted so horribly, trapped within realms twisted and strange. Creatures so terrible they will not only slay you, but slay all memory of you. As if your existence had been nothing more than a dream itself, to be forgotten by friends and loved ones even as you scream your last, lost forever within those nightmare realms of Shadow.”

Malek frowned, suddenly serious. “This would be no casual gamble then. Far worse than waking from a dream, death in the Shadowrealms is permanent, and our very existence would be forgotten.”

Alex sighed and nodded. “Exactly, Malek. And that is the saddest element of all. Any souls daring to explore those twisted realms who perish in the midst of their haunted, dreamlike journeys don't just die. No. It is as if they had never been. They flicker out of existence entirely. The wives they left behind remember nothing, save that they had always chosen to be alone for some terrible reason. Their children are assumed to be bastards, and only remember being teased and ridiculed as such all their lives, even if but days before they had been safe and loved in their father’s arms. That is, if those children still exist at all.”

Malek frowned, nodding his head. “We will not take these stories lightly, even if they are couched in a bard’s prose. We will learn what we can, and will do our best not to play the fools, assuming there is anything to see at all.”

Alex sighed. “There will be. Everything points to a rift manifesting upon the summer solstice, just a handful of days away.”

Jess frowned. “Until this very moment, I had completely forgotten about the summer solstice. It’s strange that it just sort of pops up now, all of a sudden.

Alex flashed a strangely sad smile. “There is so much I could say, but I am forbidden to. Read the tales, Jess. Decide for yourself if you truly want to risk your soul in this madness. If so? I will see what I can do to help you. I owe you that much, and far, far more.”

Jess grinned and hugged her friend. “Thank you, Alex. I knew we could count on you. Now hurry up, go impress all your professors and stay close to Jera, at least until we find out if our college is safe or if dark rats still fester within her halls.”

Alex chuckled. “I will indeed keep to Jera’s side.” His gentle gaze turned suddenly hard. “If anyone tries anything foul, well, the will find that some of Highrock’s students are the match of even a battlemage, wise enough to master magics useful in the heat of battle.”

Malek grinned. “Only you, Alex. I can barely focus enough to cast defensive wards before battle.”

Jess found just enough time to wolf down the victuals Malek had smuggled for her, delighting in the savory meat pies washed down with cold ale, and knew she had to dash to class if she wanted to avoid being late.

Groaning, she put on her robe.

Malek caught her gaze. “I will see you after last class. We can relax and spend the entire day reading these accounts."

Jess smiled. “I'd like that. Now please quit gazing at me like I'm some lost waif. I’ll be fine.”

Malek gently clasped her shoulder. “As much as I enjoy the diversion, the truth is I don’t give that much more of a rat’s arse for our courses than you do. Eloquin is right. They are but slag. Our training under him alone is the steel that forges us.” He flashed a wry smile. “It’s just that for most of us, our brilliance transcends the battlefield. You are something of a specialized savant, shieldsister. Very good with tactics and plants, a true virtuoso, but any other subject leaves you out of sorts."

Jess flushed, lowering her head. “I’m wise enough to see that I made no friends when I gave up on classes entirely, Malek. Half my professors felt that I had deliberately slighted them. It’s just that I hate feeling stupid, being mocked for having to read aloud even as I take notes, or nothing makes sense to me. And sometimes it’s hard. Very hard to focus on class.”

Malek nodded. “No one cares if you read your favorite volumes aloud in the privacy of your own quarters. In class, it's different. And when flashes of battle blind you to the chalk board, when the screams of dying men drown out the teacher’s voice, it’s hardly worth showing up at all."

He gave his suddenly trembling friend a gentle hug. “And at least we are honored with a certain amount of deference for the sacrifices we made, wearing a Squire’s pins. But you, dear Jess, are stuck with the horror and no respect at all. Forced to deal with mocking jackals that feel no shame at condemning a noble soul who would have striven to save their lives, just as you did Alex and Jera and everyone else.”

He gave a firm shake of his head. “I show up at class often enough no teacher thinks to challenge me, and in truth, few worry about the affairs of Squires in any case. In other words, they hardly care if we miss a day here and there, as long as we are there one out of two. So today, I am your shieldbrother in truth. I will join you for class, and anyone who thinks to challenge you may challenge me as well.”

It was still a weight on her heart, so many cold looks of contempt still sent her way, but most students seemed too preoccupied with their own affairs to waste much time on insulting her that morning, with Malek by her side.

Save for Duggin, sauntering around the corner the moment Jess made the turn, and she would have collided right into him had she not a Squire’s reflexes, lurching back on the instant, gazing into his smirk. “Still haven’t left yet? I’m surprised. I thought we all made it clear how much we despise you.”

Jess scowled, but forbore saying a word, knowing she had gained an enemy the day he had failed to best her in the ring, his now blatant spite but further proof of how poor a Squire he would have made.

And when she pivoted to dart around him, he slid into her path once more.

Jess glared into glittery dark eyes, his malice unmistakable.

Her hands clenched into fists.

His lips curled into a grin. “Careful, Calenbry. If you even touch me, that’s considered assault. A supplicant claims no rank, so long as she wears the robe. Touch me without cause, and you will be expelled.”

“Move, Duggin.”

He spat in her face.

“Make me, bitch.”

Before abruptly crying out as Malek shoved forward, sending Duggin colliding into the far wall before stumbling to the ground.

“When a lady says move, you move.”

Duggin picked himself up, limbs trembling, eyes glittering with hate. “You’ll pay for that!”

Malek smiled coldly. “You’re interfering with a Squire in the performance of his duties. I suggest you turn tail and scurry off. None of us here particularly want to see your face.”

Duggin’s face turned blotchy with fury. “How dare you, cur! How dare you touch my person!” He blinked, swallowing as more than one surprised onlooker laughed derisively at him.

“You, you’re protecting a penitent! That is not aloud. It can’t be! You’ll get in trouble for that, Malek de Sousel!”

Malek’s lips curled into a cold smile. “You know who I am? That’s good. Very good.”

Faster than Duggin could blink, Malek was before him, grabbing the boy’s tunic in one powerful fist.

Duggin hissed as Malek jerked him upright. “Then you should know that I’m a black sheep, Duggin. Do you think I give a rat’s arse who you whine like a coward to? Do you think you can possibly hold something over my head?” He gazed at the onlooking students, smirked, glaring back at the trembling Duggin he effortlessly hoisted, the now panicked student's feet scrabbling for purchase upon tile stones suddenly out of reach. “If I find out you’ve hurt my friend? If I hear even a whisper you’ve spoken against me? I’ll stab my sword into your gut and yank it out, making you watch your own hot slimy entrails pooling on the ground. Then I will gaze into your beady little eyes as you writhe and die at my feet.”

His words no more than a whisper, Jess was chilled to see her fierce brother-in-arms sound so very much like Mord himself. Ruthless and cold. And the smile he flashed Duggin caused an involuntary whimper as the boy blanched, his gaze one of sheer terror, still dangling from Malek's steely grip.

“I’m a Squire of War, Duggin. I revel in the madness of battle. The killing fields are my home. Snapping your neck would be nothing, and I will laugh at any bloodprice your father dares to throw at my feet. Because you will be dead, and I will have won, and that’s all that matters to a Squire, Duggin. Victory at any cost.”

Contemptuously he sent Duggin sprawling, and how the boy blanched and shuddered, catching Malek’s gaze.

Malek raised his voice so all could hear. “You weren’t accepted into our ranks not just because Jessica so handily beat you, but because your weakness was plain for those with the eyes to see it. You would flinch and run crying to your mother when the king cries havoc, a worthless waste of armor and horseflesh, sure to panic and get himself killed when steel is drawn in earnest.”

The crowd of students gazing on had grown, all of them staring at Duggin as he trembled with humiliated fury.

“We rejected you because you weren’t good enough, Duggin. We didn’t hate you for it, it wasn’t personal.”

Malek spat at the boy’s feet. “But now you’ve made it personal, daring to unsheathe your malice before a girl who never did anything but accept your challenge. It is pathetic and unworthy. If anyone wanted further proof that you deserve no exalted rank in any company, they have but to look at your shaking countenance, your hate-filled stare. You are beneath contempt, and unworthy of our time.”

Giving Duggin not another second of his attention, Malek stepped right over him, Duggin gulping like a fish, desperate to defend his honor. But there was nothing he could say.

Jess groaned inwardly, catching Duggin’s hot gaze for an instant, knowing she now had an enemy for life.

“Malek...” her voice just a whisper.

He sighed. “Yes, I know. I overreacted. But robe be damned, I will not let that pustulent piece of filth or anyone else get away with treating you so horribly. I will leave this school with their blood on my hands before I let that happen!” Clenching his fists tight, he plowed on, seeming to care not at all that more than one student was left shaken by his words.

Her classes could not end quickly enough, and Jess relieved beyond words that Professor Chevalier made no issue when Malek deliberately turned a humiliated Jess around in her seat, forcing her to make eye contact with her glaring professor, before she caught Malek’s gaze, looking strangely nonplussed.

“Silly for a student so needing all the academic help she can get not to be facing the board, wouldn’t you say, professor?” Malek, earlier fury washed away as if it had never been, flashed their professor his most winning smile.

Their young instructor stepped back, speechless, her face an odd mixture of surprise, ire, and relief. “Malek, thank all the gods. I… truly, I had feared the worst.”

“We all thought you were dead,” declared one of the students gazing raptly at the interplay.

Malek grinned. “I got better.”

Their instructor nodded, her scowl softening. “I am glad you did. Not all of us recover from injury quite so successfully. Very well, Malek de Sousel, I will leave the penitent’s betterment in your capable hands. Do make sure there are no further disruptions to our class?”

“Understood, professor.”

“Excellent, now let us proceed with today’s lesson.”

Jess found herself grateful beyond words for Malek's presence that morning, daring conversation only when they had successfully retreated to her quarters, meat pies and a pitcher of cold milk brought to their door by an elegantly dressed servant, the scent of wine upon her breath, favoring Jess with a troubled smile.

Jess frowned. Busy as she had been, it was time she found out what exactly was going on. “Lily, what’s wrong? I heard something was afoot?”

Lily, a tall brunet with fair features and a brilliant smile, had any number of suitors amongst the help, but had set her eyes on Lucas, and Jess had seen her at more than one revel, her hand in his, daring anyone to protest her company. Perhaps that was the source of her sudden shyness.

“Please, Lady Jessica. You have more than enough burdens laid at your feet. No need to trouble yourself further. What could be done has already been done. Thank you for thinking of us though, my lady.”

And before Jess could think of a reply to that, Lily had already darted off for whatever other duties demanded her attention. Of course, considering the tight dress she wore and the smell of exotic spices upon her, perhaps it was the revels that demanded her attention, and the waiting arms of a certain smiling Squire Jess did sincerely hope wouldn’t break poor Lily’s heart, whether he helped her family out or no.

She turned to Malek. “Is there something I should know?”

Malek sighed. “Not that I know of, Jess, but I just got back and am still trying to get my head together. I barely feel human as it stands.”

Jess smirked. “Much to poor Duggin’s regret.”

Malek chuckled ruefully at that. “I was in rare form, wasn’t I?”

Jess nodded. “More like Mord than not. There’s something fierce about you, shieldbrother.”

Malek grinned. “Who better to have at your side when all turns topsy turvy?”

Jess grinned. "Who indeed." Her hand gently reached out to clasp his own. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Malek paled, haunted eyes locking to her own, a bolt of dread shivering down her spine. He took a deep, shuddering breath and shook his head, his alien gaze becoming the gentle brown she knew so well, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “If it’s all the same to you, Jess, I’d rather let dreams of madness slip into the black soup of all such reverie. I’m grateful just to have woken up in one piece so close to the college, and doubly grateful I have no new propensity to stumble about in my sleep.”

Jess nodded, taking a thoughtful bite of meat pie, bursting with rich flavor; beef, potatoes, and carrots perfectly done, flaky crust setting it off wonderfully.

“Delicious!” she declared, Malek nodding gamely. “Well, classes are done, as today is a half-day. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been dying to read these tomes Alex dropped off for us.”

“Myself as well, shieldsister.” Malek sighed, gazing off into space. “I know I will never be the match of Alex with his gifts manipulating elemental magics, but once upon a time I thought I might take a different path than that of the Squire, and thoughts of wild adventure and worlds beyond our own? I had been obsessed with those dreams long before I came to Highrock.” His gaze turned sad. “I’m not quite so ignorant as Alex fears. Guild works are the most affordable of all tomes, well within the means of even a despised scion, and I was eager to escape into pages of dream and wonder. Anything to forget living in that cesspit of a home.”

Wordlessly, Jess held Malek close, knowing as well as anyone how her shieldbrother had suffered under his father’s roof.

He held her tightly in turn. “Ah, Jess. We can choose our friends but we can’t choose our kin, am I right? Never mind all that dreary blather. I want to show you a spell I’ve been working on since I first discovered I had a knack.”

Malek stared off into space for some moments, and gently spread his hands apart. Jess could feel streamers of magical energy; threads of twisting thought, reality, and nature, all spiraling and coalescing into a gentle web of power that Malek slowly and carefully spun into being.

From between his fingers the air started to swirl and waver, streaming together and coalescing to form a floating sphere of deep shimmering blue that slowly grew translucent. Jess found that peering into it was much like gazing into the depths of a deep blue lake. From that mysterious surface, a beautiful image began to take form.

Jess found herself gazing upon a musician immersed in her art, eyes closed to the rapture of her song. Her ears were oddly pointed, though her features were otherwise exquisite, an ethereal smile playing upon rosebud lips as her fingers flowed effortlessly over a silver harp before an assembly of impossibly beautiful men and women attired in ancient regalia the likes of which Jess had seen only in the oldest of renderings, images of images lost to the great cataclysm, so long ago. The court entire danced to the pristine notes resonating through the grand chamber buttressed by massive pillars of ivory and gold.

Though music was a subject that remained utterly elusive to her, save for dancing or fighting to the beat of a drum, even Jess could sense something profound about the song echoing forth from what were perhaps the final days of an ancient empire lost to time. She could feel the notes trying to carry her away somehow, and was amazed by the expression of rapture upon her shieldbrother's features.

Time seemed to stand still as they listened to that ancient memory of a bard playing to an elven court that had not graced these lands for countless centuries, even their ruins lost to memory and time. When at last the performance was done, Jess blinked, feeling oddly relaxed, gazing at Malek, who had been so moved that tears were freely streaming down his cheeks, almost as if he had been under a spell.

“That was very nice, Malek. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Malek smiled, breathing deeply. “Thank you for the kind words, Jess. I know that music is not your thing, but I thought, perhaps, this might move even you,” The spell threads that had made up the complex web of power slowly drifted back into the ether even as Malek carefully disbanded his spell. And for all that his face was illuminated by sweetest reverie, Jess could tell that the magic had exhausted her friend.

“It’s supposed to summon phantasms,” Malek quietly explained. “Images from events long past. Echoes of the world’s memory of events long since faded to dust. I’ve been working with my professor on learning and eventually mastering it. I think there must be something deeper here.” Malek's voice was a near reverential whisper. “Think about it, Jess. What are those lost realms of Shadow or Regio that Delvers can explore; discovering lost treasures, secrets, paths to power? What does it mean to travel in Shadow and Dream, save to glimpse the very world’s memories of times long past? What is that magic that I summoned forth, but the humblest manifestation of a Delver's gift?

“Imagine it, shieldsister. Just as the artifacts adventurers have successfully brought back over time suggest, who is to say that the magical manifestation of that event; the memory of it that those Delvers experienced in the Realm of Dreams, is any less real than the actual event, long since past? This path of magic just might be the key to unlocking these lost realms of Regio!”

Malek’s expression was one of exhilaration as he shared the wonder of his discovery with her, and Jess hugged her friend fiercely, buoyed by his enthusiasm and vicariously relishing his excitement.

“That is a fantastic idea, Malek. I love it!” Jess declared. “You might be on the path to discovering a new branch of magic. Truly, if you could one day discover arts sufficient to create gates to lost realms of Regio, you’d become a legend in arcane circles.” Jess sighed happily for her friend.

Malek shrugged. “I know I’ll never be Alex’s equal in terms of mastering the elements, but I feel like I might just have some talent for phantasms. And perhaps the bridge between phantasms and Regio is not as great as some might think.”

Jess grinned. "Mayhap you're right, Malek. Even if you're not the strongest elementalist to be found, your knacks might be perfect for a Delver's life."

Malek winked. "There's an interesting thought. Now if only my lover felt the same." He shook his head. “For all his airs, my dear Jacob is a bit of a brooder. He fears the danger, should we actually manage to find a path into the Realm of Dreams, and now tells me he regrets even bringing it up. Honestly, if he and his father were not constantly at odds, I know he’d be all too happy to return to his family's apartments in the capital and live a life of casual indulgence while pretending to manage the income streams generated from his family's various properties, which pretty much look after themselves, really.”

Jess nodded solemnly. “You and Jacob share a powerful bond, but the cry for adventure and true freedom sings stronger in your veins than it does his own. Maybe it’s a remnant of serving General Eloquin for so long this endless summer, embracing the High Hunt, savoring magics none of us really understand. If we can’t fight by our master’s side, all we have left is the bittersweet joy of utter freedom. And a Delver’s life is nothing but freedom. For those who are able to experience echoes of the world’s most glorious past not only get to live lives of wonder and adventure, they get to live it fully on their own terms, beholden to no one.”

Malek smiled. “For all that you alone see strands of magic, Jess, most of us sense that something has changed, those of us willing to blacken our daggers, at least.”

Jess shivered and nodded. “I’m certain you’re right, Malek. Though I can’t put my finger on exactly what is different about us. Only that we are more than what we once were.”

“And soon we will both be Squires no longer,” Malek said. “For I will cast off my uniform and walk beside you, the moment they dare to boot you from this school.”

Jess shook her head, as if to deny the silly claim, but couldn’t hide the tears from her eyes.

Malek chuckled. “So sensitive is my sister-in-arms. Come, sister. Three tomes here to choose from.” Malek smiled and splayed his hand. “Three tomes, my dear Jess. None have I read before. All are filled with bardic accounts of previous expeditions into those overlapping layers of Regio, portals leading to realms of living dream. Let’s savor the tales before us, and see if we can find anything interesting.”

Jess nodded and began her reading. Despite her natural disinclination to read anything save military treatises, she found the accounts recorded by scribes and various bards fascinating. Mystical castles sailing on clouds of ether, mysterious realms of floating doors and staircases that defied all laws of gravity, ancient lost cities filled with the voices of people going about their daily lives, yet utterly devoid of even a single soul. And sure to please even the most avaricious of readers, tales of lost crystals brimming with forgotten power beside tomes of ancient lore found in eldritch libraries long lost to the flow of time.

Jess read tales of brave Delvers slipping into massive chambers full of eerie looking tubes and copper wiring, stealthily grabbing mystic tomes covered with glowing runes but feet away from hideous abominations reeking of death and whispering awful incantations as unseen souls screamed in the darkness. Moments later the Delver would breathe a great sigh of relief upon successfully sneaking back out of that ancient tower, only to look back and see nothing but broken tables and dusty ruins, for all that the arcane prize held in trembling hands appeared as pristine and new as if it had been written that very day.

Jess sighed and rubbed her eyes, gazing Malek’s way. “It seems that the wonders to be found in these strange places is matched only by the terrible peril to be faced. Some of these realms appear to actually have sentience, or to be controlled by someone who does.”

Malek nodded. "And some of the stories really do read like a faerie tale. Such wondrous adventures await the hero who is bold enough to embrace living dream."

He then passed to her the tome he had focused so much time on, bookmark highlighting the chapter that had caught his interest. It spoke of an adventurer named Maximillion. A raider in his youth, he had accepted near any challenge, and one old seer had dared him and his companions to enter an old keep on the crest of the great hill, this virgin land upon which no settlements had ever been discovered save their own, and spend the entirety of a night within its ancient halls.

Without a moment's hesitation Maximillion accepted the dare, he and his companions making their way to that ancient fortification soon after. For Max, he could see it standing proud in all its majesty in the moonlight, yet his companions saw nothing but a bare rocky hilltop overlooking the gently rolling sea. Gamely though, all proceeded up the hill, and Max wondered at who claimed the keep, keeping it in such excellent repair, expecting a fine feast to his warm greetings. His friends, however, hung back. For all they could see was the barest of ruins. Burned great logs and shattered stone where once a great structure had stood.

Before long, his friends cried out in panic, saying he was turning to shadow. Yet to Max, it appeared that his friends had left him. Unafraid and never one to be called coward, he boldly knocked on the great gate before him and had been given admittance by a steward dressed in flowing white robes, with the head of a great hawk. Oddly, Max had not thought this strange at the time. He merely presented himself as a guest and hoped to earn the right to sup with the masters of the hold, showing his own silver totem animal as he did so, his totem being none other than the hawk itself.

The creature nodded approvingly and bade Max enter where he was made welcome. While there, he did indeed feast in a great dining hall filled with roasting meats of all sorts of animals of the hoof, though none of the wing. He was tended to by pigeons scurrying to and fro even as they served the great family of hawks who were the obvious lords of the manor.

Once he was made comfortable, his hosts confessed that they had long been bound to the keep; that to their eyes, the world beyond was nothing but an endless forest with but a single hill upon which their great fortress rested. And how did Maximillion make his way to the keep at all, his hosts politely queried. Max confided that he had come on a dare, having stayed the night before at a settlement only recently established by his people as they strove to spearhead the taming of this new land. He said it was great fortune to have met them, they who so closely resembled the totem guardian of his people.

The hawks plied him with tasty venison, boar meat, and much mead, and bade him speak of his adventures, which he did in no small detail. All present nodded approvingly at his stories of conquest, the largest of their number declaring it just and right that Maximillion use his greater skills to slay the weak and force his dominion upon the lesser, for he was aligned to the birds of prey, and were they not of higher station in life than the birds that foraged upon the ground, or animals that had no wings at all?

They then asked him to name a boon and they would grant it, so long as it was not so great that he offended them and they strike him down, roasting him on the spit beside the pigs, or so trivial as to earn their ire, in which case they would strike him down and strip his flesh from his bones.

Maximillion had chuckled, raising his mead in approval of the challenge before him. “For you have already given me the greatest gift a warrior of the hawk clan could ask for. The chance to share the meat of the kill with those of the wing, even as we shared stories of life’s battles and triumphs. All I could ask for is the gift of remembrance, so our tales this evening do not disappear like the remnants of a ghostly dream, so I can always pull out and savor the memory of this, the greatest feast of my life with you all, the best companions a man could ever wish to feast beside!”

The hawks cried their approval of this request, and Maximillion awoke the next morning amongst the ruins of the keep, his companions shouting in alarm at his sudden appearance, and unlike almost all other tall tales of adventure within strange realms he had survived, his memories of that feast did not fade like figments of a dream.

Yet with this journey, not only did Maximillion remember his adventure as clearly the brightest memories sparkling in his mind, much as he had hoped, he found that he had been granted other blessings as well. The hidden meanings of birdsong were revealed in full to him. He found himself gifted with the ability to seek the counsel of any bird of prey, and to command obedience from any bird of berry or grain.

Reading further, Jess found that Max had gone on to have many other interesting adventures, to have amassed a great fortune, and had apparently been adventuring, hale and hearty, two centuries after his life altering feast with the noble clan of hawks, should the stories be believed.

Jess whistled appreciatively. “Imagine it, Malek. Blessed with the ability to converse with and control the beasts of air, and perhaps even discover the secret of eternal youth! Those are prizes worthy of great risk, and a wonderful tale to have told in one’s honor.”

Malek nodded. “From his carefully worded request and the author’s note on Maximillion’s band of followers serving as his de facto bards, it appears that Delving and the necessity of hurriedly transcribing or memorizing the adventurer's exploits before they all faded from memory had been known of, even then. You noted, of course, that his adventures do go on, and he appears forever a man in the prime of his life, for all that the tomes in his honor contain a record of some two centuries worth of Delving, at which point all collected stories regarding him abruptly disappear.”

Jess nodded. “Even the bravest and most skilled of adventures must accept that he who lives by the blade must eventually fall to the blade in turn, especially over a span of centuries.”

Malek shrugged. “Perhaps he retired and finally succumbed to old age. Perhaps he died eventually in one of the Shadowrealms he discovered. Perhaps he is alive and with us to this day. There is no way for us to know. But if you’ll read other accounts, you’ll see other talents and power manifesting themselves among the lucky few. And you’ll note as well, all of these adventurers appear to be in the prime of their lives, even when the tales are apparently about the same people told over a span of decades or longer. The obvious conclusion, though we have so little to base it on, is that adventuring, if one survives it, resonates in such a fashion as to recharge one’s life clock, so one does not fall prey to old age and decrepitude. At least not during the years one actively Delves.”

Jess quirked a smile. “Life clock?”

Malek shrugged. “Sands of time. The mortal coil. Whatever analogy you prefer. The point is, adventurers do not seem to age and die at the rate most of us do. Perhaps, Jess, there is something to all these tales.” He pinned her with his gentle gaze. "And let's be honest, Jess, we could well have been dipping our toes in such magical waters all summer long. However long that has been. The truth is, we just don't know."

Jess swallowed and dipped her head. “You could well be right, Malek. So, the only question that remains to my mind is whether or not we have what it takes to become adventurers. Not just sink our feet in the warm shores of summer, but truly immerse ourselves in all the terror and wonder that is living dream. What do you think, shieldbrother?”

Malek chuckled. “I certainly hope so, Jess. I was praying you'd share my enthusiasm, for there’s no one else I’d rather have at my side than you.”

“Thank you," Jess said, touched by her shieldbrother's words.

Malek grinned. “After all, you are the only member of the circle as skilled as I with the longsword. You can hold trouble off while I make a quick exit.”

“You’re terrible!” Jess smiled. “So, I take it we are both of similar mind?”

Malek gazed intently at Jess. “Tomorrow, while everyone else is enjoying a break from class, we will go down to see Rens, and see if he has any interest in a couple of prospective adventurers joining his ritual.”

Jess nodded, feeling better than she had in days. “I know the odds are that we will see nothing, but if that tower does manifest, we will stand ready.”

Malek clinked his mead filled mug with her own. “To adventure, sister,” he said softly, kissing Jess’s cheek before departing, shutting the door softly behind him.

34

A gentle rap on her door and Jess jolted awake, relieved to sense that only Malek waited beyond her door, happily grabbing the meat pastries and jug of fresh spring water he had brought, wolfing down her fare and donning her robe in the time it took Malek to make himself comfortable. “Someone’s in a good mood today,” Malek teased.

Jess winked. “The taste of freedom, brother. It’s nice to have a day without classes where dozens are heckling me, the teacher’s every comment making it clear how deeply I’ve already failed them. Maybe they won’t hate me on sight in the wizard’s wing, and if they do? I can always come back. Besides, you know I enjoy my free days more than most.”

Malek laughed. “Not to mention the fact that this mad little gambit might just provide us with a path to worlds of wonder and unfathomable wealth.”

“Or a hideous death, with no memory even of our passing. Come, Malek. You’re far more a wizard that I will ever be, so you get to lead the way.”

Malek chuckled, leading her down byzantine corridors Jess was only passingly familiar with, and for all that Jess received more than a few hostile glares and mocking smiles, her shieldbrother’s clenched fist and hard stride right into whoever dared to mock her kept the derision to a bare minimum. Cheerful mood of moments before chilled by the cold disdain, Jess felt her footsteps slow before turning down an impressive main hall Jess had, in her heart of hearts, always been too shamed to enter.

She bowed her head and sighed, Malek’s discerning eyes seeming to read her perfectly. “Ah, Jess. If only you saw what was right in front of you even half so well as you can see strands of magic, as invisible to most of us as common sense is to you.”

Jess flashed a bitter smile. “And the one time I confessed that knack I was laughed at, and all but called a deluded fool by the professor. And when it turned out I couldn’t cast even the slightest cantrip, bemusement turned to outright derision. I couldn’t bear that professor’s class a moment longer, so I left.”

Malek sighed, giving her shoulder’s a squeeze. “That professor was a right bastard, sure enough, and a fair number of those mocking jackals have already left Highrock, not having what it takes to become any wizard of significance.”

Jess shrugged, making peace as best she could with memories that still haunted her from time to time. Only when she had been chosen as one of Eloquin’s band, had she finally come into her own.

And she had managed to lose even that.

She furiously wiped eyes hot with tears, bracing herself for the jeering this would normally inspire, blinking in surprise when it didn’t come.

She turned to her shieldbrother. “Malek? I… this is strange.”

“What’s that, Jess?”

Jess turned her gaze to a pair of students passing by, blinking in surprise before giving Jess the smallest of nods.

“Well, it’s strange. No one is mocking me. They aren’t being overly warm, but by the gods, just the courtesy of a friendly nod is heaven sent, after enduring this week.”

Malek flashed an enigmatic smile. “That’s because this wing isn’t comprised of fools, Jess.” His intent gaze made her blush. “No matter that Eloquin no doubt swore them to silence, the fact remains that we risked our necks saving a dozen of their own from the most hideous of deaths, and now you are paying a bitter price for your virtue. Even the most preoccupied of their number has to know that there is far more to the story than your robe of penitence.”

Malek sighed. “Certainly, your impulsive charge was a fool’s gambit, and I a willing fool, charging right beside you. It’s like Neal said. Whatever your flaws as a commander, you make a damn fine hero.”

Jess blinked. “He really said that?”

Malek grinned. “He did indeed, the most ruthless among us, and loud enough for Eloquin to hear.”

Jess whistled at that.

Malek patted her shoulder. “And Eloquin just smiled, not saying a word one way or another. I think in his own way he’s trying to redeem you. Not break you.”

Jess flushed, oddly touched. “So, this is what you lads do all day in the Wizards Wing, hmm?" Jess quipped as a young boy ran shrieking down the hallway, several of his peers following him with hoots and jeers. Not such a rare sight, for better or worse, save that the lad being chased was a deep shade of blue, with the tail and ears of a jackass. "I do hope that’s not permanent."

Malek laughed. “Hardly. The college does take in a number of younger lads who’ve shown a strong flare, specifying their training strictly to scholarly arts, not martial. Angels above, they’d get butchered in the training rings! But yes, leave a dozen precocious children open access to laboratories full of potentiated alchemical ingredients and poorly understood spell tomes and, well, interesting things tend to happen.”

His smile turned jaded. “Honestly, a part of me wonders if it's deliberate. Happenstance and madness as much as genius is responsible for the current state of our art, and if by some chance those children are struck by a brilliant bit of mischief that causes a particularly remarkable effect to occur, well, you can bet your britches our more scholarly mages will grill those children to tears getting down all the particulars.”

Jess, however, was frowning. “But, I thought, well, transmogrification, changing someone's shape, even their color, was totally outside the elementalist paradigm?”

Malek grinned. “It is.”

Jess blinked. “So those children are already defying the laws of magic as we understand them?”

“Pretty much.”

Jess nodded, gazing appreciatively at the fine marble-faced hallway, graced with majestic frescoes telling what she was certain was a noble tale of adventure and intrigue. Certainly, the prince bowing before an ancient faerie court appeared almost lifelike, his brilliant blue eyes silently imploring, his exquisitely detailed crown and sword hilt of real gold.

“This hallway is truly a magnificent work of art, Malek. One day you’ll have to tell me the story depicted on these frescoes.”

Her shieldbrother nodded. “Happy to. In the meantime, Master Enchanter Rens's chambers are right here at the end of the hallway. You might find him a bit... different from the scholars we’ve passed by so far.”

Jess took a quick glance around the great hallway, seeing more than a few bookish gentlemen wearing finely knitted robes, armed with nothing more significant than eating daggers belted around their waist, often as not a tome or scroll in hand as they made their way from what appeared to be an impressive library to her right. They, in turn, gave her an assessing eye, nodding at her gaze courteously enough, despite her penitent’s robe.

Truly unexpected.

Jess sighed. “Courteous as these wizards are, I hate making a bad impression. I would have loved the opportunity to wear something other than the penitent’s robe for my first visit to this wing of the college, especially if I’m trying to convince a powerful mage to put his faith in my abilities as a potential Delver.”

Malek flashed her a reassuring smile. “Trust me, Jess. I think he’ll give you a chance, despite your attire. Especially if Alex and I vouch for you. Master Rens isn’t your typical arcane scholar. Most of his business comes from those lords scratching a hold for themselves on the boundaries of our kingdom, fending off raiders and such, where rough living is the norm, and the heart of a warrior is appreciated. He earns at least as much coin from them as other enchanters do from those popinjays in the heart of our kingdom, where the nobility fortunate enough to call the capital home live in opulent splendor." He chuckled softly. "As much as I love gazing upon the glory of our capital, I'm glad to be away from all the petty intrigue. There are only so many times I'm willing to bear some fop gossiping about my past indiscretions while smirking to my face before I challenge him to a duel.”

Jess nodded, giving her shieldbrother an impulsive squeeze, knowing the burdens of his heart as well as anyone. She then took a deep breath, girding herself. “Well then, shall we make ourselves known?”

Malek nodded, gently tapping the burnished silver knocker in the center of the great oaken door firmly set at the exact center of the hallway’s end. Jess heard a low hum and could sense flickers of arcane energy like madly dancing filaments of bright light whipping back and forth, gently caressing Malek with their touch. He didn’t appear aware of them, but suddenly looked uncomfortable and began sneezing uncontrollably before the silvery strands gently retreated, apparently satisfied.

It was then that Jess noted several silver strands of energy questing out towards her, though she gently pushed them away, not really wanting them tickling her nose or her flesh. The fibers flapped about in seeming confusion for a moment, then acquiesced as if admitting defeat, retracting back into the ancient oaken panels once more.

Malek stopped scratching his nose and gave Jess a curious look. “That’s strange. Normally Rens’s doorway makes everyone sneeze upon seeking admittance. Hmm... maybe it only applies to those…” He coughed, suddenly embarrassed. “Never mind.”

Jess sighed. “Let me guess. It only applies to those with the talent to cast spells? That would figure.”

Malek flushed. “I didn’t say that. But if I had, I would owe you an apology.”

Jess cracked a grin. “It’s fine, my friend. Maybe I’m just so thickheaded those strands didn’t want to bother with me.”

Malek looked puzzled. “Strands? What are you talking about?”

It was then that the door was abruptly yanked open by a great hulking bear of a man sporting a fiery red beard as grand as any king's, with hair of similar hue coating his body entire, if the bright red tufts spilling from cuffs and collar were any indication. His scalp was covered in a thatch of dark crimson curls, and he wore a doublet of deepest burgundy over which he had donned a calfskin jacket that looked both well-worn and exquisitely comfortable, as only silk or beaten leather could be. His trousers were of a deep indigo blue and were made entirely of silk, tucked at the bottom into well-worn calfskin boots.

His blazing eyes gave them each an appraising glare, and he huffed dismissively before speaking, his voice for some reason making Jess think of the throaty rumbling of a hungry bear. “You, Malek, I recognize. And who is this other one? As if I could not guess. As if it even mattered. What does matter is that she has not entered the Wizards Wing prior to this very day. I can tell by the scent of her aura. It has a unique flavor. One I would surely recognize, had I come across it before.”

He peered at her closely, almost as if he would cow her with his brilliant blue eyes, his powerful presence washing over her with odd intensity. Jess held her place, gazing calmly into his own fierce countenance. He grinned and nodded approvingly. “No shirking violet, I can tell that, at least. She has the stance and build of a warrior. Well then, welcome to my domain, little warrior. My college within the college, so to speak. We will pretend we don’t both know why you wear what you do. Perhaps at a later date, you can tell me how you fooled my door.”

Malek flashed her a quick undecipherable glance, even as Rens bade them enter with a sweeping gesture, shutting and sealing the door behind them.

Jess blinked, vision suddenly blurring, rubbing her tearing eyes for some seconds before everything suddenly came into piercingly sharp focus. It was as if, for the first time, after a lifetime of looking at landscapes and portraits depicting the illusion of distance, she was now beholding a mighty canyon sprung up suddenly before her. A girl who had long admired still paintings of lakes, now sailing upon a vast and mighty sea.

She had always been able to sense strands of magic, to see the humble webs of power carefully constructed by her friends, for all that she couldn’t cast a single spell herself. Long content to gaze fondly at those flickering lights of possibility, Jess now beheld the arcane equivalent of a glorious sunset of indescribable beauty and wonder.

Before her she felt the throbbing of vast and barely contained power. She could almost taste the quantum flux of arcane energies rippling about the vast chambers before her. Indeed, Rens's doorway didn’t just lead into the entrance of his quarters, but was the gateway into massive chambers cleaved into the great granite mountain that abutted the college. For the room arched vast and grand, sweeping overhead to scores of brilliant, twinkling lights set into giant bronze chandeliers, glowing with a steady luminescence that could only be arcane in nature.

As she gazed about carefully, she could just make out the deep blue and gray strands of magic locked around the chandeliers, containing and directing brilliant energies within closed circuits of power, tied off from its source and perpetually fluxing at inconceivable speeds, giving forth the illusion of illumination that was, for all intents and purposes, as bright as a cloudy spring day.

“Brilliant, isn't it?" Rens sighed contentedly. "It was my journeyman piece, forged to show I was worthy of working in these halls as a true scholar of the enchanter's art." He gazed about the room, with its many bookcases of ancient oak and bronze worktables covered with items of eldritch enchantment with obvious pride. "I helped forge these chambers, you know; deep into the heart of Highrock itself. Truly, these halls within the Academy's halls are my own."

He gave Jess and Malek a second appraising glance as they nodded in admiration of the grand chamber and the many tomes and works within. “I know you to be a competent apprentice, Malek, and a skilled tactician who can actually get my more martially oriented students to strike their targets in concert. Yet to my recollection, this is the first time you have sought direct audience with me outside of a classroom setting. And if you would be so kind?”

“Oh yes, Master Rens,” Malek began, having been caught speechless by the wonder of Rens's great study. “Allow me to introduce my shieldsister, Lady Jessica de Calenbry. If you can disregard the robe she wears, you would see before you one of the finest tacticians our school has forged, having trained by my side since first we came, both of us skilled in all the weapons of war General Eloquin taught us to master, both of us veterans of the High Hunt, never refusing to embrace the call.”

Jess shivered, to hear Malek speak so candidly of things she thought never to be mentioned at all.

“She also has quite the knack with wood, and is considered quite gifted in the herbal arts as well.” Malek grinned. “Otherwise she is a horrible student, currently suffering the ire of numerous professors for earlier folly, for most of those fools don’t realize the awful price we pay, hunting by our master’s side.”

Jess swallowed, blinking in disbelief, but neither Malek nor the professor seemed to think his candor at all odd.

Rens nodded, gazing at Jess with appraising eyes. "And now I may properly greet you, recognized for your virtue alone. Lady Jessica of the Calenbry clan, once its heir. Your father is Baron Arthur de Calenbry, one of King Richard's right-hand men during the conflict recently past when first you came, long ago as that was. Your reputation does, in fact, precede you, my dear." He flashed a grim smile. “And being a protégé of Eloquin's, I do not doubt that you are quite familiar with all the martial aspects of our fine college. And I understand I owe you a debt of thanks, as well.”

Jess blinked in momentary confusion, even as the larger than life wizard chuckled softly. "For Lady Vaila has oft confided that the rare herbs I request from her, as potent in essence and aligned to their higher forms as a wizard could possibly hope for, are cared for and harvested by none other than yourself, my lady." Rens gave an approving nod. "You are reputed to have an unusual way with plants of finicky disposition, flourishing in your care when they would wilt in any other's greenhouse or garden." The master enchanter gave a theatrical sigh. "Our college will be sorely pressed to find your replacement, when this wondrous season finally ends.”

He clapped her shoulder and nodded approvingly, and Jess couldn’t help grinning at the compliment. “I am happy to make time for two of Eloquin's Chosen, who have served this college and this nation long and well. So tell me, how I may be of assistance to you both?”

Jess cleared her throat, quelling her sudden nervousness, determined not to stumble over her words. “You see, sir, we were given to understand that a rift in Shadow might be forming with the equinox, and that you were embracing ceremonies both to ward the college and, if it does manifest, to peer inside that realm of Shadow, and glean what information there was to be had.”

Rens stepped back with a huff, his look fierce and measuring. “And what interest would you students have in the Shadowrealms? You are both aligned to the seasons themselves. Such forces have no place in living dream.”

Malek flushed and Jess was rendered speechless, to hear those words said aloud. So many glimpses of things terrible, wondrous, and forbidden they had caught sight of, this summer, and it was so very easy to explain it all away as battlemadness or vices savored during the revels that always followed their dark little missions. Jess could sense Malek's carefully constructed arguments for why they should be allowed to participate in Rens's attempts to pierce the veil between the mundane realm and the realms of Regio wilting under the master enchanter's cool gaze.

“Forgive us for troubling you, Master Rens,” Malek said at last, “we were given to understand that you will be taking some students in an attempt to glimpse the barrier between this realm and the Realm of Dreams within which the echo of an ancient tower, once a part of this college, can be seen in all its lost glory. As if it had not fallen centuries ago, as if it shone still with all its splendor, not a moment past its prime.” Malek scratched his head. “Alex had explained it, implying that even as we captured its image, we forced it away, protecting our college while getting a bird’s-eye view of the tower and what might lie inside. Jess and I, well, we would like to witness it. Perhaps we could aid you in some way.”

Rens frowned, giving a slight shake of his head. “I am sorry, Malek, but as much as I normally am one to indulge good intentions, a working of this magnitude is not something I wish to leave open to casual voyeurism. Too many variables to consider. Too many things, quite frankly, that could go wrong, unless everything proceeds according to our exacting regimen, carefully rehearsed beforehand.”

Jess felt her heart sink, realizing Alex had been in error, afraid she had made a fool of herself. And she had strode in so confidently, knowing her friend would never lie to her. But there was the rub. She could sense the hostility of a spiteful lie, but an honest mistake would shine as brightly as heavenly truth to her mind. It was malicious deception alone she had a knack for sensing, not the accuracy of an answer, or she would be far more the scholar than the dunce of all her classes.

“Master Rens,” Jess interjected, fearing rudeness but not wanting the professor to close the discussion without at least fully hearing them out. “Perhaps we can bring something to the table. Malek here is actually striving to bridge the gap between perfect forms and reality with his arts, and feels the arcane path he is pursuing may serve as a key to allow us to enter the Realm of Dreams in the flesh one day. I do not know the particulars, not being an adept of the arcane, but perhaps seeing your own masterful magics at work will give him added insights into his own research.”

Jess took a deep breath, gazing calmly into the fearsome instructor’s imposing gaze. “As for myself? Let me put it this way. In a best-case scenario, should you successfully form a bridge of magic between your circle of students and that realm of Regio soon to overlap our mundane realm, wouldn’t it be nice to have a Squire who is well-trained in the warrior’s arts as backup, should we encounter anything less than friendly?

"If you are considering bringing martial reinforcements of any type, we would be honored if you would count us among their number. I am given to understand that if, gods forfend, the protective ritual does not work, adventurers alone can close the rift by embracing the story within, drawing it to its natural close. And the dance of the Delvers, risking their very existence for the sake of the tale, is one Malek and I both find ourselves willing to embrace, especially if daring this tower might somehow protect our school.”

Rens's furrowed brows transformed to a thoughtful nod. "Not seeking to counter the dark working by external means, but by embracing the magic directly, making its story your own.” He flashed a grim smile. “Bold, daring, clever. Befitting of Eloquin’s Squires.” He nodded thoughtfully. "And for all that you are aligned to the harvest, who better to dare a Delver’s dream than those who have so long embraced the High Hunt? Very well then, young Malek de Sousel, describe and demonstrate to me your workings, and I shall see if they have any possible application to the ceremony we will be attempting."

Flashing a panicked look Jess's way, Malek quickly snapped to attention and explained his theory regarding the realms of images, illusion, and Regio, how he theorized that the branch of spells pertaining to the manufacture of light and sound were, in fact, nothing less than dreams of reality hidden behind the veil of mundanity. A porthole of sorts to the very Shadowrealms themselves, and not simple fancies.

Malek's voice became animated despite his attempts at formality as he explained the reasoning behind his conclusion that perhaps, somehow, the illusionary arts could be used to bridge the barrier between the realms of reality and dream. With that, and a few moments concentration to center himself, Malek began to recast the spell he had shown Jess in the library, and soon the great chamber resonated with what Malek assured were echoes of hauntingly beautiful harp music playing melodies not heard by mortal ears for centuries.

While he did so, Jess found her attention caught by the many curious items Master Rens had placed on bookshelf and workbench alike. She noted the curious flickers of light and energy that spoke of magical chords wound tight around said artifacts, seemingly self-contained, not channeled actively by any wizard, but rather running continuously of their own accord.

Magic. Shaped and channeled to loop in an infinite chord of power resonating down through the ages: complex, fascinating, beautiful. She gazed at one small silvery cube playing a gentle series of melodies, quite fragile. For the dozens and dozens of silvery filaments that were the chords of arcane energy that made its framework, they seemed almost to rustle and vibrate with her breath as she gazed at it carefully, admiring its ephemeral beauty. She thought perhaps, if she gazed at it deeply enough, she could gain a sense, a taste of what it was used for; understand how it worked, but she was distracted by the many other elegantly constructed wonders that caught her eye. Humming contentedly, she immersed herself in examining the many fascinating constructs left out on display.

She smiled warmly even as Malek’s tone grew increasingly urgent before Rens abruptly cut him off. She enjoyed what she could almost imagine was a faint harmonious song vibrating from the rainbow sheen of chords emanating from the crystal head of a staff mounted on a bronze display beside a particularly finely crafted bookcase. Almost despite herself, she raised her fingers as if to caress the fragile strands of harmonic energy flickering from the staff head. Grimacing, she forced herself to hold back at the last moment, lest her gentlest touch somehow snap the threads and disrupt the arcane harmonies.

It was then that she felt a frisson ripple up and down her, and she gasped. A thrill of dread and delight caressed the pit of her stomach, and she could feel all her hairs stand on end. She shivered as she caught the faintest melody of a far more potent tune. Whereas the silvery bright magics before her played the gentlest flute-like harmonies, the tune she now felt caressing her ears was of a far richer sort. It didn’t whisper its melody so much as thrum through her very soul. It teased and tempted her, awakening a delicious tingle of excitement, like waking up to a wonderful memory, or falling deeply into a burgundy dream.

For the truth of it was, for all that instruments played to what her sister swore were tone-deaf ears were just a series of sounds to her, a gala symphony little more than pleasant background noise like the babble of a nearby brook, the melodies of power were songs she understood in all their terrible beauty. As if lost in a trance, she found herself approaching what looked to be an ancient bronze helmet. It was exotic in appearance, the crafter adhering to principles of elegance and design alien to that favored by armorers of the present day.

Tiny images of spear wielding warriors were painstakingly crafted into its sides, its odd design no less fluid than that of the finest steel helmets worn by the king's own champions. Mounting it too appeared to be the jaws of a bear clamping fiercely on the top and back, made of solid gold. In its eyes were two pieces of darkest amber.

Jess found herself grinning as she gazed at the ancient artifact, realizing intuitively that the bear motif was not an artistic flourish, but in fact served as a fundamental core component of the construct. It was not a carved bear’s jaws mounted upon the helm but part of an actual skull, dipped in gold. And from it, dark red chords of magic thrummed with power. A sharp contrast from the almost willowy fragile strands of prismatic light that caressed the other artifacts about the chamber, these chords were ancient. And far more potent, possessing a rich, honey-sweet essence Jess could almost taste.

She grinned as a hot frisson of pleasure rippled through her soul. She could almost feel the hymns of a dark chorus ring through her skull as her hands caressed the helm, its ancient magics taking no harm from her gentle touch.

35

Don’t touch that!” The master enchanter's voice, sharp and crackling with authority, cut through Jess’s daze. Only by dint of supernaturally fast reflexes did she catch the ancient helmet before it fell out of her startled grasp. Heart suddenly racing with a sickly tinge of dread, her hands shook as she carefully put down the helmet. Breathing heavily, she blinked, as if awakening from a fever dream.

Ren’s approached her, his blazing eyes glaring into her own. His gaze turned from one of outrage to suspicion to concern as, whatever he saw in Jess’s eyes, it was enough to mollify the dark wildness she first sensed emanating from his crackling aura, terrible energies clenched in hand gently allowed to recede. “Please, Lady Calenbry, touch nothing!” He paused then, gazing at Jess carefully. “Are you all right, child? You look a bit dazed."

Jess took a deep breath. “My apologies, Master Rens. I don’t know what came over me. I suppose I was just a bit entranced by the helmet’s song.”

Rens blinked, and Malek shook himself from a look of deepest despair that Jess barely caught a glimpse of, soon replaced by concern as he approached his friend, curious as to what had transpired during his conversation with the master enchanter. Jess inferred in that split second that the conversation had not gone well, but snapped her attention back to the matter at hand before she risked offending Rens further. “It… called to me, I guess. It entices with a far more potent tune than that sung by the other artifacts you have nearby.”

Now it was Rens's turn to look nonplussed. His grip on her shoulders was gentle but very firm, and Jess ruthlessly suppressed her warrior’s instincts, knowing it would be a very bad idea to attempt to spin out of his grip and perhaps dislocate his arm in the process. “Speak clearly, child. What do you mean when you mention music?”

Jess took a deep breath, ignoring Malek’s wry aside about her being tone-deaf. “I mean the harmonies played by your magical artifacts: The notes of power that resonate when their arcane chords vibrate through the mundane realm, fluxing in and out of our reality.”

Jess paused and suddenly flushed. Having forgotten, in her excitement, the mocking laughter she had suffered from her classmates the one semester she had taken magic theory, when her hopes of becoming a wizard one day were still bright and burned within her. She had claimed she could see the chords of power when her professors demonstrated simple playful magics to the class. Her peers had quietly snickered or shaken their heads, and even her professors had looked at her with polite disbelief.

They had been willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, thinking perhaps there was some hidden potential, and she was paired with some truly gifted students, which was how she met her true friends Alex and Jera. Soon it became humiliatingly obvious that she had no magical talent whatsoever. For despite Jera’s supportive words, and Alex’s calm attempts to teach her, Jess failed to harness a single strand of magic, let alone channel it into a single one of their assigned spells.

All of the things which even then Alex and Jera could do so effortlessly, weaving the strands of magical energy into songs to captivate an audience, or brilliant flashes of light, or use it to levitate a tome off the table by way of demonstration, all of it was completely and utterly beyond her.

Eventually her classmates lost all reservation in their mockery of her claims to be able to see chords of magic, and even her professors' curious gazes had turned to ones of pity. The sad little girl with delusions of grandeur, spouting wild claims in order to make herself feel better about her own utter lack of talent.

She had fled that class, no matter that Alex and Jera had tried to console her, doing her best to avoid anything to do with the Wizards Wing ever since, only today daring to enter their hall.

And here she was, in front of one of the school's grand masters, spouting her ideas of hearing and seeing chords of magic, claims that had gotten her all but laughed out of the school, so long ago.

Jess found herself blushing so hard she felt her cheeks burning, and it was all she could do not to sprint out of the wizard’s great chambers in sheer humiliation, his easily broken grip on her shoulder aside. Yet Master Rens’s gaze was neither mocking nor derisive, merely curious.

“Say this again, girl. Are you saying you could hear these artifacts' songs?"

“Well, yes." Jess swallowed, her throat suddenly bone-dry. "They also sparkle."

He raised an eyebrow. “Sparkle?”

Jess nodded solemnly. “Yes. Sparkle. Especially the other items. Silvery fine chords of magic loop about them giving them a sparkly sheen as if they were covered in diamonds.” Jess turned her gaze back to the ancient artifact before them, her voice soft, reverential once more. “The helmet is different.” Jess paused, at a momentary loss for words. For a moment Rens’s bemused expression had mirrored her previous professors, but he snapped to attention once more when she mentioned the helmet.

“Tell me about the helmet, Jessica. Tell me everything you can sense.”

Jess took a deep breath. “Its song is different. More powerful. Much more powerful. And it's, well, redder. And not as fragile.”

He blinked. “Fragile?”

Jess nodded solemnly. “Yes. The other items you have on display are beautiful constructs, harmonious, and play the sweetest gentle melodies, but they seem… easily broken. I wouldn’t dare touch them lest I disrupt their chords, they look so fragile. But the helmet? Its song is far more potent. It doesn’t twinkle with the high-pitched tune of a flittering songbird, it throbs with the thunderous roar of a raging bear. It is no stranger to struggle or power or blood. It… feeds on such things.” Jess shuddered slightly. “I don’t know. That’s just the sense I get from it. It is a potent artifact, and the only one I’ve seen here so far that I’m not worried about accidentally breaking.”

Rens stepped back and he looked at her with an appraising gaze that shook Jess for a minute. He almost appeared impressed. “You gathered all that, unschooled and unaware, just browsing my artifacts, while your friend and I had our little discussion. Fascinating.” He then turned back to a rapidly approaching Malek whose expression was utterly unreadable to Jess.

“Malek! Why has this girl never attended my classes?” he asked of a suddenly nonplussed Malek, stopping him in his tracks.

“I don’t know, sir. But from what I recall, she had mentioned seeing people’s spell chords before. If I remember correctly, the class was too busy being skeptical for the professors to take the claim seriously.” He paused. “Her friends, however, never doubted there was more to her talents than those numbskulls believed.”

Rens shook his head. “Damn fools. If something doesn’t fit exactly within the bounds of accepted magic theory, they refuse to believe it even exists. How often do I have to remind them that the theory itself is based upon arbitrary conclusions that we’ve adhered to for centuries? They don’t encompass all the laws of magic, merely the most basic ones. You need but gaze upon those foolish children racing about the corridors that our dean is perfectly content to have poking about tomes far beyond their abilities to understand just how limited our understanding of magic truly is.” He sighed gustily. “Damn shame. Oh well, nothing we can do about that.”

He gave Jess an approving nod and clapped her shoulder. “Let bygones be bygones, dear Jess. Forget those fools. I think you have a good eye we could put to use. If you would be willing to stop by from time to time? We could use your insights. That is, if you have an interest in the arcane.”

Jess could feel herself smiling so brightly her cheeks hurt. “Master Rens, that would be an honor.”

He nodded approvingly. “Excellent. Well then, I think you’ve earned an explanation. Those earlier items are masterwork constructs made here at the college, no few by yours truly. Several are good for generating light and heat at need, others can help a farmer dowse for water or play harmonious tunes to while away a dull winter's evening. Several have other wonders they can cast. However, for reasons we are still grasping to understand, their application and utility are limited. Some are limited by place: their magics may be potent but their range is limited, becoming strangely inert when taken to any area in mundus where magic doesn’t resonate quite as strongly as it does here at the college. Or, as some say, where the veil is thickest and the Shadowrealms are least likely to break through. Other items are limited by the phases of the moon, or specific rituals needed to use them."

The enchanter gave his artifacts an affectionate nod, as if showing his fondness for them, despite their flaws. “Make no mistake, our enchanters have made many useful artifacts that have been the boon of many a farmer. But such items are often constructed on site, are dependent upon ritual, moon phase, or season, and never leave the farmer’s lands. Items that are potent, mobile, durable, and work anywhere are rare artifacts indeed. And, I fear, they are beyond the grasp of most enchanters.”

Rens took a deep breath and gazed deep into Jess’s eyes. It was not an intimate gaze, but it was a searching one. "There is so much to learn from our ancestors. We cannot begin to reach the heights of magical potential that we surely have within ourselves, did we not better understand the triumphs and follies of our past. This artifact, dear Jess, might well be a desperately needed key to unlocking those ancient secrets. And it seems you might just be the key we have been looking for. Now if you wouldn't mind, please hold this artifact one more time. Don't worry, I will be right here, beside you. Tell us whatever you can. I will take to heart anything you have to say on it."

Trembling, Jess swallowed and nodded as Rens brought forth the artifact once more.

Jess found herself drawn to the bronze helmet once again, her hand reaching forward, gently touching the ancient bronze. Untarnished, after so many years. It was warm to her touch. Warm, like blood. Its power pulsed through her and she felt it. The barely contained fury of a raging beast, tied to the maelstrom of the cycle of life, yet forever apart, trapped in this helmet.

A fierce, terrible power. Dormant. Yet ready to come raging back to life, should one wield its mantle once again.

Jess lurched back, caught firmly in the arms of Master Rens, who she only then realized had been yelling out to her, Rens’s and Malek’s voices having blended into an incomprehensible babble while the helm’s mysterious power so seductively called out to her. She sunk to her knees, momentarily weakened by a massive twisting pain in her gut, yet it quickly subsided. With a gasp, she lurched herself upward once more, led stumbling to a chair by Rens himself.

The powerfully built mage gazed intently at Jess, handing her a flask filled with wine. "What can you tell me?"

Jess drank deep, putting her thoughts in order.

"Deep in its core, it contains the spirit of a bear, does it not? It sleeps for now. But when a warrior bold enough to wear it joins in battle, he would commune with the spirit trapped within, and his body would be infused with the power of that ancient beast. His swings would have the power of a raging bear, and he would be just as hard to stop. His bones wouldn't break even if he jumped from a castle wall, and no weapon could crack his skull. If he wears a full suit of mail to catch the points of any blades, he would be near impossible to defeat. He would be the perfect soldier to lead a charge, to break through lines of enemy pike or a shield wall, assuming he doesn’t slip into a frenzy, overwhelmed by the bear's spirit, and just kill everyone who falls under his reddened gaze, like a berserker in truth.”

She shook her head. “I can just feel it, Master Rens. I don’t know how else to describe how I came to my awareness. For myself, it’s as obvious as my eyes telling me you favor burgundy colored tunics.”

Rens nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Jess’s face. “I believe you. And now, dare I say it, you know more about this artifact that I did but an hour ago. I will make careful note of your observations, and will make sure we heed your insights in determining the nature of this device. And fear not. As a student scholar, even one wearing that most unfortunate robe, you will receive full credit for your insights, should you wish it. Indeed, our humble college here could sorely use someone of your unique talents, Lady Jessica de Calenbry.”

He sighed. “But you also leave us in a delicate position. The first truth we were able to determine after endless hours of costly research was that this artifact does indeed contain the spirit of a wild beast. Unfortunately, the less enlightened would still react with revulsion, should they come to understand that this was the path our ancestors took, in the creation of their many mighty artifacts.

"Fearing necromancy and dark arts, most won’t take the time to consider the significant differences between harnessing a beast's spirit, which naturally resonates with our realm, and a human soul, which would suffer terribly, were it to be so ill used.”

He favored both students with his solemn gaze. “It is our hope that continued research of this and several other treasures that we have uncovered will unlock any number of vital clues in the art of forging wonders that are not quite so fragile and limited as the paltry constructs we are capable of today. But I fear it will be awhile before our new branch of study is developed enough to show both its incredible potential, and the controls we have in place to assure that none of our students slip off this dangerous path. Only then can we assuage all concerned parties regarding the ethics and value of this path of study. In short, Jess, Malek, we need time. And for that, we will need both of your discretion as well.”

He gazed firmly at both of them. Slowly Jess nodded, and Malek’s bemused smile let her know that he had no problem with this avenue of study at all.

Rens smiled approvingly. “Well done! And in return, I shall grant you both a boon. Malek, though your professors say some avenues of study do not come easily to you, the unique phantasm you showed me earlier demonstrates excellent potential in your areas of strength. I suspect that your martial proclivities and skill with wards have resulted in you perhaps being unfairly pigeonholed. Certainly, little enough effort was made to assess your scholarly potential as a wizard, only your role as a future battlefield mage commander under General Eloquin's tutelage. Were you to be channeled in the right direction, your talents could blossom in ways useful to both you and the college, beyond the battlefield."

Malek’s eyes lit up in barely contained excitement. “Do you mean…?”

Rens nodded. “Yes, Malek. I will take you on as an apprentice in the discipline of enchantry. It will not be an easy path, especially as you lack certain gifts some of your peers possess, but I can tell that within certain narrow specialties you have significant potential, and together we will work out a program to see how best we can channel your gifts into the art of enchantment."

Malek was speechless. He fell to his knees and kissed Rens's hand.

Jess could sense all too well her shieldbrother's gratitude for this boon laid at his feet, the opportunity to study under one of the college’s masters and break free of the chains of mediocrity that Jess knew he had felt constrained by for so long. So too, the opportunity to study this ancient, possibly forbidden path of magic; to feel different, special, having access to something others did not, would bind Malek's loyalty to Rens utterly. Thus, turning a potential loose end into a loyal ally.

From a tactical perspective, Jess thought, Rens had played his hand perfectly. She flashed a bemused smile at the master enchanter, dipping her head as if acknowledging a point earned. Rens’s return smile was no less sardonic.

“For you too I have an opportunity, my dear Jess. Your talent is one we could put to great use in the college of enchantment, particularly when uncovering unknown artifacts. Should you deign to allow us to put you on retainer, you will receive credit for being no less than a journeyman specialist in residence, and can look forward to room, board, and a modest stipend from the college, depending on the discoveries uncovered. The physical fruits are perhaps of minimal interest to one of your noble birth, but your scholarly rank is well earned, and will be noted as part of your academic accomplishments when you graduate. So too, my door will be open to you, should you wish to study further, or be employed directly by our esteemed college.”

Jess blinked. “You mean I can stay at Highrock? Even if, gods forbid...”

Rens eyes glittered with an odd intensity. If it was anger, it was not directed at her, at least. “Certain things I will not speak aloud, for if I did, I would need to penalize the foolish mastermind of an expedition wreathed in folly. And I need that boy far too much to risk the damage school-wide shame and censure would cause to his confidence and focus.”

A powerful hand gently clasped her shoulder. “But don’t think I am unaware of the sacrifice made by one who chose beautiful folly, risking her neck and those of her friends to save half a score of children a heartbeat away from endless nightmare.”

Jess shivered from the intensity of the man’s gaze. All their verbal fencing aside, he had taken their measure from the second they had arrived, knew them as intimately as any teacher could, for reasons Jess couldn’t even fathom. Perhaps because it had been Jess and Malek that had led the perilous charge that had almost ended in scores of deaths which would have haunted Jess for an eternity, but instead she had emerged victorious, near a dozen souls given salvation, covered as she had been with shame for her dire folly.

She had rolled the dice and won, and Ren’s gaze alone let her know that he, at least, was grateful for her following her heart.

Jess fiercely held back bittersweet tears, grateful that someone understood how terrible that moment had been, how desperate she had been to save her friends.

Rens slowly nodded. “What is my old friend’s favorite expression again? Triumph in battle forgives any sins of technique. And your triumph was absolute, Jessica de Calenbry. You may rest assured that in this wing of the college, at least, no soul will dare to mock your sacrifice. For the helpless scholars but moments away from death could just as easily been anyone who walks these halls.”

Jess bowed her head. “Thank you, Master Rens. You don’t know what that means, to hear it said aloud.”

Soft, dry laughter. “Eloquin doesn’t need foolish heroes doomed to die in tragic glory. He needs the grimmest of commanders, willing to do whatever it takes to see the battle through.” Rens sighed. “He brought us victory from the jaws of defeat, and the tally in lives was so red that the scars haunt both our nations to this day. He’s right, of course. We do need the deadliest of commanders fighting for Erovering. He forgets, however, that heroes aligned with an angel’s cause are just as precious, just as vital.”

Jess barked bitter laughter. “I am no hero, sir. Far, far too much blood is on my hands for that mantle ever to be worn by one such as I.”

Jess gasped, unable to believe she had said those words aloud.

Ren’s gaze was strangely fey. Jess felt almost as if she could fall right into them, quickly turning away. “The High Hunt kisses the eternal even as it demands the darkest of bounties, haunting its revelers every bit as much as the fools doomed to fall.” He chuckled softly. “Erovering is flush with old magics. Wild magics. Blatantly embraced before the eyes of every scholar in this school, and so many of those pedantic fools don’t even see it.”

Malek gazed at Rens, just as poleaxed as Jess felt. “Master...”

Rens only smiled, gently shaking his head. “And we will say no more on it. And Eloquin would be an inconceivable fool if he let the miscarriage of your shaming persist any longer than necessary. But fear not. As to your question, even should bitter folly take her due, and the mantle of Squire no longer be yours, you shall most definitely be welcome within my halls."

Jess smiled, but her heart was heavy. “I am grateful for your kind words, Master Rens. And though I hope one day to remove the burden of this robe and rejoin my brothers and sisters in arms once more, even if successful, one day this beautiful summer shall surely end. And then I will be a valued Squire no longer, merely a daughter whose return home is long overdue.”

The strange look Rens favored her with made it all too clear her darkest suspicions regarding their endless summer just might be correct. “I know your intentions are honorable, Master Rens, and all else aside, I would love, absolutely love to help you in discovering and uncovering these items of lore and figuring out their purpose. But when all is said and done, I fear that upon my graduation, my father will insist upon my return.”

She sighed, before lifting her head to meet the master enchanter’s gaze. “For we all know that noble daughters, liberated as they are in Erovering compared to some kingdoms on the continent, still, in the end, are tied to their father’s will in terms of marriage and inheritance. And for all that my father would value my opinions in terms of a desirable match, ultimately I have no doubt but that he will see me married before another year passes.” Jess gave vent to a frustrated sigh. “As gilded as the bars of my imprisonment will be, however sweet the songbird's melody that keeps me company, a cage is still a cage.”

Her grin was bitter. “Unless I am willing to submit my desire for suffrage in a trial of combat and risk slaying my very father, or an innocent man who did me no wrong, I will be unable to break those bonds of commitment. And my father knows me too well to ever think I would do such a thing as that.” She paused in reflection. “It is interesting though, is it not, how adventurers, as much as they are looked down upon by the aristocracy, are also so useful and feared that they are able to bypass all the constraints placed even on nobility? When you look at it that way, an adventurer is the only truly free person in the kingdom.”

Rens’ gaze was deadly serious. “So, to avoid an unwanted marriage set up by your most doting father, you are willing to risk your very life, the memory of your very existence, all in a desperate bid to free yourself from your family’s expectations? Are you prepared then to give up all formal rights to your father’s lands and title with such a dangerous act of rebellion?”

Rens shook his head. “Do you not realize how much you have already sacrificed, already given up, having followed Eloquin’s black banner for so long?” He sighed. “So much I cannot say. So much I dare not say. Not even now, with you both trembling like children, afraid I will whisper dark horrors that set you to screaming, fey secrets you were never meant to hear. I will only say this. I came to Highrock to find the wildest magics to tap into, ancient powers, many many years ago.”

Rens flashed the strangest of smiles. “I was not disappointed. And though I have the fiercest regard for you both, you contemplate rushing headlong into a sea of sweet madness, not even realizing how long you have been swimming in a cauldron so similar. Are you both truly set on this path?”

Jess, eyes deadly serious, nodded curtly. “I would decide my own fate, beholden to nothing save my own resolve, my own virtue, tarnished as it is. I love Eloquin more fiercely than he will ever know. For him alone do I blacken my dagger, knocking hapless pieces from the board without question, no matter how much they plead and beg.” Jess choked back a sob, not knowing why she dared to say such thoughts aloud, knowing only that Rens was far more than he seemed. Much like her master. “I would embrace stories where I can be the hero, vanquishing evil on my own terms.”

Malek nodded. “I would never fail to answer the king’s call. But I can think of nothing so grand as to actually set foot within living dream, embracing the opportunity to perhaps discover and harness lost arts long since relegated to legend, if we truly have what it takes to become Delvers, those living heroes credited with so many feats of glory and daring, if the Guild's more grandiose tales are to be believed.

“Imagine it, Master Rens, if Jess and I were able to escape age's cruel grasp, to live and explore worlds of dream and wonder for centuries, to bring back knowledge and lore that would make Erovering's mages the most powerful force to be reckoned with on the face of Dawn!” Malek chuckled. “Or so the legends go. At the very least, we might pick up interesting bits of lore and artifacts long since lost to time that would interest the college greatly.”

Jess nodded. “There is that, as well. Maybe it’s a fool’s dream. But if we have the talent to access the Shadowrealms, untold riches await our discovery, and anything we find and claim, any bounties and boons we earn, would be from our own merits alone. Not by dint of our titles, or noble privileges; nor would they be mere gifts or bribes given to us as indulgences. And perhaps, if we truly do step into living story, we can tell a tale as sweet and joyous as any soul could hope to forge, and who’s to say it isn’t a true forging? Perhaps we change the past, or some version of the past, in ways we can only fathom.”

Jess shrugged. “If we don’t have the talent for it? If legendary palaces from the halcyon days of lost eras peeping out of the hazy mists of time only fade away as we approach them, nothing more than a mirage, a trick of the light? Then we know we don’t have the blood of Delvers in our veins. Then we know that our dream of becoming adventurers was just that. A dream. And as you said, we are always welcome here at the college.”

Rens sighed, gazing at the pair of hopeful looking students thoughtfully for a time, before seeming to at last come to a decision. “I see. Very well, then. Jess? Malek? When my apprentices and journeymen attempt to open the gate to peer into the Shadowrealms, even as the Delvers we hope to hire stand ready to enter if we are unable to seal it off, you are welcome to be counted among us, to witness our great work, so long as you promise not to interfere.”

Jess and Malek bowed as one, expressions equally alight with gratitude and exhilaration. “Master Rens, we are grateful!” they declared in unison.

Rens nodded. “The ceremony will be the night of the solstice. Rest well, and prepare yourselves. It you wish to come armed to aid us should the unforeseen occur, by all means, do so. Just please remember to keep the use of metal to a minimum. Your blades, linked to you both by dint of sweat, struggle, and long familiarity, you may bring. But I must insist upon no steel armaments, as an excess of iron can have grave repercussions in the Realm of Dreams. And Jess? I formally give you welcome, even should the worst occur.” He flashed a grim smile. “It matters not if you are an exiled student. Under the mantle of Delver, all past transgressions are forgiven. Be sure, however. Once you declare yourself as such, the Guild will be all too eager to claim you for their own.”

Jess nodded. “Thank you, Master Rens. Eloquin has a number of suits of complete lamellar armor made of boiled rawhide plates, and I believe I can scrounge up armaments almost as durable in my quarters. Over all the endless months, I’ve built up quite a collection of gear. I'm sure we'll be more than ready for the adventure that awaits us.”

Malek nodded. “And if there is any chance of us scrounging up bronze gauntlets, helmet, or greaves, we'll be about as well protected as we can be, and safely enter Regio.”

Rens nodded. “Very good. And now if you will both excuse me, a number of projects require my attention. And Malek, please feel free to stop by tomorrow morning at sunrise. We will ascertain your strengths, and initiate a study regimen covering the core basics you must master before we can begin training you in the arts of enchantment. Is this agreeable to you?”

Malek bowed low. "Without question, my master. It will be the greatest of honors, when I am able to study under you." His voice trembled, and Jess felt a vicarious thrill of happiness, glad that he, at least, was free to pursue his dreams.

Rens nodded again. “Well then. Prepare yourselves, my students. We expect the Shadowrealm so close to our own to bridge our realities upon the solstice, the night of our ceremony. I will see you both at the site then.”

36

Jess and Malek exchanged excited grins as they made their way back through the Wizards Wing to the heart of the keep, Jess’s buoyant mood lasting up to the moment she entered the dining hall, famished, the muted roar and bustle stilling with her entrance, a hundred pair of eyes turning to stare her way…

And Jess froze. Breathless. All her ebulant confidence melting away like dew before the sun, leaving nothing but frigid uncertainty in its place.

Powerful hands quickly grabbed her shoulders. “Come on, Jess. To our table.”

She all but huddled against him, doing her best not to meet anyone’s gaze, the oppressive weight of so many stares an opponent against which she had no counter, fierce temperament that had won her so many battles wilting before so very many hostile glares.

“Why don’t you crawl back in your cave, supplicant? You don’t belong here.”

“Murderer.”

“Wretch.”

The words burned into her. Hostile whispers and guttural curses rung through her skull. Students who might not dare to catch her eyes in the corridors between classes, Malek glaring so protectively by her side, were more than happy to let loose their hate, their outrage, with several hundred peers to mix their comments among.

It did not matter that uncertainty was every bit as prevalent as contempt. The scorn Jess sensed cut her to the quick.

“Come on, Jess. We’re right over there. See? Raphael and Alex, waving to us warmly, not giving a rat’s arse for the handful of fools who dare say nothing to your face.”

And then Jess was plowed back, shoved firmly in her chest, battle reflexes jerking her back before she froze in her tracks, chilled to see the gaunt face, the hate filled eyes of none other than the head proctor, his off hand in a cast still.

So. The dreamlike vision she had of Eloquin grinding his wrist had not been a dream.

“You do not eat here, supplicant.” The gaunt-faced proctor hissed, before twisting his neck to glare at Malek. “Go ahead, Squire. Strike me. I dare you. I shall be all too happy to take your pretty little pins away and see you cast out like the black sheep you are, Malek de Sousel.”

His lips wormed into a malicious smile as Malek paled, bearing his teeth in a snarl. The very flagstones seeming to reverberate with his growl.

The proctor blanched and stepped back at the sound. “Blasphemous!” he hissed. “You will not show such insolence to me, student, Squire or no!” He unsheathed his baton, more than one student paling and flinching at the sight.

Malek’s eyes went cold. All pretense burned away, he stared at the head proctor with a killer’s gaze. As used to the most violent of battlefields as was any knight who dared the vanguard, Malek’s smile turned bleak and deadly.

“So be it. I declare our contempt beyond all remediation, and I demand satisfaction. Let’s end this farce, and embrace the madness of death. I challenge you, you pustulent excuse for a proctor, you malicious cur. The air stinks with your hate, and I meet you in kind. "

He spat upon the flagstones.

The proctor lurched back and hissed.

“The gauntlet is throne, worm. Let us settle our differences in the only way that matters. Let’s settle it with steel.”

“Malek!” Jess hissed. “It’s not worth it. Let’s just go.”

Breathless moments passed, the head proctor glaring at Malek, speechless, shaking with fury.

Malek flashed the bleakest of smiles. "You're right, Jess. No need to waste any more of my time with pathetic, puffed up cowards happy to brutalize unarmed women while trembling at the first sign of a real challenge."

“How dare you, you insolent piece of filth!” The proctor roared, all restraint lost, lashing out with his baton.

And Malek moved with the chilling speed that made him so damn effective whenever they blackened their daggers, whenever they embraced the High Hunt.

The man crumpled to the ground, his voice an awful wheeze, Malek’s fist having struck so hard Jess heard the snapping of bone, baton torn from the proctor's grip before he could blink.

Malek stepped back, glaring at the groaning proctor. With an icy smile he caught the man’s eyes. Gaunt features so filled with malice turned to dread as Malek snapped the baton in half, dropping both pieces upon the proctor’s shuddering form, turning on his heels, facing the crowd of awed students.

“Who did not see the man strike without accepting challenge, myself unarmed?”

No one said a word, Jess catching the slow smile of several Aspirants gazing on.

“To assault a student is a crime. Even for a proctor who is permitted only to restrain, physical punishment decided upon only by one's military commanders or the dean himself. Is this not so?”

The smiles grew.

Malek’s voice rang through the cafeteria, catching the ears of those few professors approaching even now. “So, striking without sentence passed, without warning, without even accepting challenge, was assault. The head proctor struck me with weapon in hand. I defended myself with naught but my bare hands. Does anyone deny this?”

Malek smiled into the silence.

“My shieldsister and I shall get our lunch now. And in case anyone hasn’t figured it out yet, half a score students are alive right now who would not have been, if the girl you’re so quick to condemn hadn’t acted just as she had.” Eyes glittering, his smile grew hard. “Lives that could have been your own. Think about that, the next time you would dare to spit at her feet.”

With a coldly formal bow, ignoring the groaning, cursing, gasping proctor, Malek turned on his heels, exchanging a single solemn glance with Jess, the pair making their way directly for the kitchens, not a single student jeering or mocking Jess along the way, all of them favoring her and Malek both with the strangest of stares.

37

My lady. We weren’t expecting you.”

Jess frowned at the panicked servingwoman carrying a tray of fried meats destined for the hall beyond. The delectable smell of crisp ham and bacon ladled with sweet syrups would normally have sent Jess’s stomach to growling, the aromas only intensified by the pervasive odor of spice that always permeated the kitchens and its helpers.

Jess frowned, feeling some profound insight but a hair's breadth away, yet it was immediately lost, much like her appetite, to behold not just one but two women crumpled to the grown, sobbing uncontrollably.

Jess swallowed, feeling a horrid twisting in her stomach as she approached the two women, inconsolable for all that they were surrounded by consoling staff, the cook’s desperate eyes locking onto Jess.

“Oh, my lady! You were always so good to us, when so much of the nobility just treats us like, like flotsam. I am so sorry that we haven’t been sending you food properly as we should, it’s just, it’s just...”

Jess bent down, taking the cook’s hand in her own. Surprisingly strong despite her plump frame, the cook’s hand clenched tightly to her own, hazel eyes red with tears refusing to let her go. “Tell me, Lena, what troubles you so?”

“My son is missing, and now Ylva’s is as well!”

Jess turned to gaze at the young serving woman huddled in a sobbing puddle, her beautiful face crumpled, tears of sorrow dripping upon the cold stone tiles as she sobbed endlessly.

Jess grimaced, locking gazes with the cook once more. “Saints above, I had no idea! We must tell the proctors at once.”

“They said they had no time for the likes of me!” Lena sobbed.

Jess blinked, dumbfounded to hear this. Her present dilemma aside, she rarely heard the proctors spoken ill of, and in a school full of wild students, she knew that was saying something. She frowned then, as it all clicked into place. “They replaced the head proctor not that long ago, yes?”

Whimpering, the cook nodded. “Hatsk came on board when poor Walter fell right off the battlements! What was that fool thinking? He was always so zealous about patrols, considered the children all members of his extended military family. Fatherly, some might say.” The cook gave a bitter shake of her head. “But he just had to drink on duty, didn’t he? Not just a sip of table ale for a parched throat, but drink so strong he plummeted to his death. What an awful shame.”

Jess felt her stomach knot. “Indeed.”

The cook took a deep, trembling breath, gazing so bemusedly at Jess through her tears. “And you’ve just had to make an enemy of the newest head of those proctors. A former inquisitor, from what I am given to understand, and not one to cut any slack for students, or for staff. Just a spiteful, spiteful man. Bloody bastard. My Johnathan is missing, and all he did was glare at me and act as if it were my fault for not keeping him in line!”

Jess frowned. As hostile as the head inquisitor had been, she had not known his name before. “Let me get this straight. Little Johnathan is missing, and all Hatsk could do was castigate you?”

The cook gave a tearful nod.

“And now my little Bobbi is missing, and they still refuse to do anything!” Ylva sobbed. “Bobbi swore that he and Johnathan had not been getting into mischief, that he had no idea where his friend was. So I forbade him to go off exploring, already worried as I was for Johnathan.”

Her slender hands began trembling. Jess couldn’t help but gently grip them as Ylva burst into fresh tears. “Both our boys, missing! And for all that the assistant proctors tutted and swore to keep an eye out for me, kind-hearted dears, Hatsk shouted them down, condemned me for bothering him with pathetic trifles when he had a keep to care for, calling his own men distracted fools!”

Malek cracked his knuckles. “No matter if Eloquin beats me silly, I’m glad I hit that gods-damned bastard.”

The cook laughed through her tears. “Good on you, young sir. Good on you. Oh, if only the dean hadn’t brought him on!”

Malek gently patted her shoulder. “Dean Echobart isn’t a bad sort. At least, he always had a kind word for me. Like as not, this is politics. If the Crown sends a former inquisitor to join your ranks, there is no way you are turning him down, even if he could care less for the people under his care, his real job just to spy for the head of his order.” He shared a bleak, sympathetic smile with the cook, now giving him a fierce hug. “Believe you me, as a Squire, I know these games better than most.”

Jess gave a sympathetic nod, knowing those games all too bitterly well herself.

Banging could be heard upon the door to the kitchens. A frightened servitor gazing at Jess and Malek like a startled deer. “Hatsk is just outside, and he’s in a temper!”

Malek smiled coldly. “Good. Let’s end this.”

Jess smacked his head. “Don’t be a bloody fool. You might get away with just a beating, two hundred sympathetic students did watch the man strike you with his club as if you were gutter trash, but anything further and it's the penitent’s robes for both of us!”

Muffled shouts, angry pounding upon the thin door separating the kitchens from the dining hall.

“Please don’t shout so, sir, the door is stuck!” Placated the panicked servant as Hatsk swore endless vile punishments to the kitchen staff entire.

Malek turned to Jess.

She winked. “It is made of wood, after all.”

The cook’s eyes widened. “A sacred gift, and always there for us you are.” She wiped away her tears, turning to a wide-eyed helper. “Alice, a bag full of salted meats and cheeses, on the double! Rachel, a flask of mead and those two meat pies cooling on the rack.” Both ladies gave quick nods, Jess and Malek’s hands were filled with tasty fare almost before they could blink.

“You’d best be off, my dears. There is little you can do for me, but save your own skins from that bloody bastard!”

Jess nodded. “Thank you, dear Lena. But please, tell me, where did you last see Johnathan?”

The cook rubbed her eyes. “I had put him to bed just the night before last, him sleeping like a babe. When I checked on him the next morning, I thought he was off in play, but he never came home, not all day!”

Trembling, Ylva squeezed the cook’s hand. “’Tis the same with mine! Little Bobbi sleeping like an angel. I wake up this morning and he is gone without a trace, and no one has seen him! It has not been so many hours, but I always know where Bobbi goes. No friend or servitor has seen him, he is absent from all his haunts.” She turned to Jess. “Oh, my lady, if only you could help us!”

“Oh Ylva, look at our poor Jess,” the head cook gently scolded. “She is at the cliff’s edge as it is. What can she do, save make a tincture for our tears?”

Lena smiled sadly at Jess. “I am sorry we had to burden you with our troubles, my lady. Please forgive us, and make yourself scarce before that vile Hatsk breaks down the door.”

Jess turned to the sound of banging, startled to see that one of the men glaring at the door looked chillingly familiar. Her heart lurched, recognizing his bulky frame and scowling features an instant before turning away.

“Who is the helper by the door, holding the tray of fresh loaves?”

The cook frowned. “That’s Glist. Came on board not that long ago. Surly type, but a skilled brewer and baker.” She shook her head. “His is one shoulder I would never lean on, but his ale is good, and his bread some of the tastiest we’ve had in Highrock. Still, he is an impatient one, as like to break the door down as Hatsk. Best you get a move on, my lady.”

Jess gently squeezed both their hands. “Thank you for the bounty of your kitchens.”

Exchanging a solemn glance with a grim faced Malek, the both made a quick exit out the back into the courtyard outside the wing.

Jess took a deep breath of crisp air smelling of wildflowers and the sharp clean scent of evergreens, dozens of students sparring or relaxing upon lush fields of grass and wildflowers rippling in the breeze. Jess felt a weight ease from her soul, even as her heart was filled with sudden resolve.

She turned to Malek. “You know what we have to do, right?”

Malek sighed, taking a bite of savory meat pie. “See if we can track down those boys. Do you think it’s possible they could have gotten it into their heads to explore the forest?”

Jess frowned. “A possibility, I suppose, though not too likely. Still, it’s not like we can get into any more trouble today. Out of sight, out of mind. I will check the woods while you check with our friends. See if Alex has any spells he could possibly cook up that might help us find a missing boy. Perhaps Raphael knows someone in the know.”

Malek nodded. “I’ll see what I can do in the keep. If our brothers weren’t still enjoying the revels, I’d loop them in.” He frowned. “Perhaps I will anyway. Bloody hells, Jess, if they had been attending class by your side, it wouldn’t have been nearly such a torment for you. You'd have allies in every class, glaring at any student or professor dead set on belittling you.”

Jess grimaced, shaking her head. “I did put us all at risk, disobeying a direct order.”

Malek scowled. “You trusted your instincts, you acted on your own initiative, just as Eloquin forged you to. Did you make a bad call? Was it foolish? Dare I say it, maybe it was. But I’m equally a fool. And we saved ten of our own, two of our closest friends, and lost not a Squire. We’re we lucky? Sure as blazes. But for you to be treated like you are a wretched stain upon Highrock’s honor is an insult to every life you saved, every charge you led. Honestly, Jess, were you not ever our shield against spear and arrow, we’d be lucky to have half our number, all the mad missions we embrace.”

Jess shrugged. “I saved my friends, but I disobeyed my commander. He has to do this so everyone understands that there is a bitter price for disobedience, even if, in the end, we got lucky. Very lucky. It’s why I haven’t been expelled already, I think.” Jess sighed. “If a Squire did this under the king, he’d probably pay for it with his life.”

Malek chuckled softly, shaking his head, gazing with awe at the massive keep they called home. “Actually, no. If you emerged victorious, the king would take credit and you would give it, grateful for his praise in turn."

He turned to Jess, fingers brushing her cheek, intent eyes locking upon her own. "After all this time, don’t you get it, Jess? We aren’t just students. We are the king’s secret weapon, already well in service, embracing madness I suspect would be the death of most men.”

Jess took a shuddering breath, gazing off at the verdant green woodlands just past the extensive training fields, lush and inviting, sunlight sparkling through rustling foliage, the chirp of birdsong filling the air. “I know, Malek. It’s just… I know.” She gently squeezed Malek’s hand. “I’m off for the trees. I will see you this evening. Hopefully one of us will have some answers.”

And though she gained no profound insights into the whereabouts of missing children while meditating under the trunks of massive trees near the edge of the woods, she felt a remarkable sense of peace, as if ancient wisdom was conveyed with the gentle rustles of every leaf and branch, filling her with calm.

“Meditating, are we? I don’t suppose our dear oak knows of any secret pools filled with succulent fish, now does he?”

Jess’s eyes popped open, and she laughed for joy, catching sight of her sapphire-eyed familiar, gazing at her so seriously before favoring her with a cheshire grin.

“By the gods, Twilight, how I missed you! I wondered why the leaves were rustling so mischievously there at the end,” she said, holding her purring familiar close. “It’s been a very long week," she whispered, surprised to feel her eyes red with sudden tears.

Twilight nodded solemnly. “I know, my mistress. I know. And as much as I would dearly love it if you were a bit better at staying out of trouble, two of our Circle friends owe you their lives. You did good, my mistress. You followed your heart.”

Jess grinned. “Thank you, Twilight.”

He shrugged. “Of course, you also played the fool, and are quite fortunate indeed that Lady Luck favored this roll of the dice.”

Jess shuddered and nodded. “I couldn’t watch them die, Twilight. And poor Abella, her screams haunt me still.”

Twilight butted his head against her cheek, securely perched upon his favorite spot once more. “I know, my mistress. I know. I do have some good news for you.”

Jess raised her brows. “Lighten my heart. Speak of this good news.”

“Sable, Liam, little Julia. It was a harrowing journey, but they are safe at last.”

Jess gave a relieved sigh. “That is good to hear. Very good to hear. Thank you, Twilight. Thank you for caring enough to help their story be a happy one.”

Twilight arched his neck at odd angles, locking gazes with her despite his perch. “Sable has enemies, mistress. More determined than one might have thought, almost fanatic in their devotion to put Sable’s little one upon the altar of their madness.”

Jess felt her lip curl into a snarl. “I’ll see those bastards dead first.”

Twilight chuckled softly. “And a merry chase it was, those fools stumbling in the wilds of lands for which they have no name. Only a matter of time before they are all croc food.” He gave a feline shrug. “A fitting end for such filth, I suppose. The important thing, of course, is that Sable’s little family is now safe and snug in a beautiful village surrounded by arboreal splendor. And for all that she and her mate are struggling with a language quite different from any you have heard in a very long time, the villagers are exceedingly friendly, awed by Sable's beauty, and Liam's carefully revealed gold has gone exceedingly far to pave over any difficulties, just as it does in most parts of the world.”

Twilight shrugged. “Of course the villagers will probably hammer the metal into trinkets and ornaments, having no use for coin, but Sable and Liam both seem genuinely happy together, little Julia content in their arms. And that’s all that really matters, I suppose.”

Jess held her familiar close. “Thank you, Twilight. With all of my heart, thank you.”

Twilight nodded. “Fear not. I had no sense of disease or plague, there is a competent medicine woman among that tribe, and as far as a Squire’s lessons are concerned, the village has not seen war in centuries.”

Jess smiled. “I won’t ask where, but it sounds like a land as far off and exotic as any faerie tale."

Twilight bobbed his head. “It is. Sable sends her thanks, by the way.” He flashed a playful grin. “Of course, when she says that, she does so praying before an altar in your honor, somehow convinced you are but an avatar of the sacred goddess the village itself worships.”

Jess burst into laughter. “Does she really think that?”

Twilight shrugged. “You did bless her, and with my help they did find themselves hopping about the world at a rather strange pace. No need to worry over the particulars. I couldn’t do it with you in any case. Your soul is far too heavy for that.”

Jess smirked. “Are you saying I eat too much?”

Twilight grinned. “If you like.”

Jess shrugged, taking a sip of mild ale from her flask, rich with the taste of pears and apples, free of oddities and impurities of any sort. However surly his temperament or poor his choice in friends, Glist was a competent brewer, Jess had to give him that.

Her lips froze upon the lip of her flask.

It was all she could do not to spit out the brew.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

Jess turned to her familiar, brilliant sapphire eyes locked upon her own.

Slowly, he nodded. “Plausible, my mistress.”

Jess grimaced, trembling with suppressed fury. “That bastard. That gods-damned bastard. All of them!”

“I quite agree. Assuming your assumption is correct, we have found our enemy. Now it is for us stay in the shadows while our foe gloats, thinking himself invisible to our eyes, and strike when and where we can do the most damage.”

Jess nodded. “And rescue those children.”

Twilight grinned. “Of course. First things first, however. Let’s see if our Hound has found any clues to add to our own suspicions.”

Jess frowned. “Why do you call him Hound?”

Twilight grinned. “A long, boring story unworthy of your time. Come, Jess, back to the keep. With any luck, excitement and heroics await. And if we are really lucky, some poached fish await us as well.”

38

Malek, you look awful!”

A bruised and battered Malek grimaced back, wincing as he stretched his broken lip.

“Let’s just say our master wasn’t quite as understanding with the umbrage I had taken over that bloody arrogant head proctor as I had hoped.”

Jess winced. “Just how badly did he beat you?”

Malek chuckled. “Badly enough that bloody Hatsk quit hollering for my immediate expulsion. Of course with dozens of students shouting him down as a violent madman, a score of our cafeteria brethren swearing that Hatsk had pummeled me in a blind rage, there was thankfully enough muddying of the waters that Hatsk's demands bore little weight, his station aside.

"Eloquin also stated, quite solemnly, that I was technically protected by the Revel Edicts, the same as any crusader returned from campaign, since it hasn’t quite been seven days since, well...”

“Since we charged those Velheim bastards set on sacrificing our friends in some hideous ritual, and I was demoted and cast out of the Squires for not backing off and letting them die?”

Malek grinned. “Yes. Since that engagement. Anyway, the entire cafeteria was declaring Hatsk guilty of assault, and whether or not I am their favorite fish, everyone hates that bastard of a former inquisitor. I get the feeling he’s also guilty of a few discrete beatings with few witnesses so everyone, even the staff, swore up and down that I am but the most virtuous of souls.”

He chuckled softly. “Master Eloquin knows me all too well, of course. So he took my story at face value and said that I was obviously sorely in need of polishing my grappling skills, so made quite an example of me in front of a few score of cheering youths and Hatsk himself, who Eloquin made sit up and watch the lesson, for all that the man has a cracked rib, and was glaring at Eloquin like he’d hang our general himself, if he could. And no matter that the Healers Wing mended broken bones as well as any group of healers used to treating men of war, enough rumors are floating around that I know it had been in a cast, not that long ago. And good on Eloquin for taking down that bastard a couple of pegs, daring to raise a hand against my shieldsister!"

Jess blushed and looked at her feet. Malek clapped her back.

“Anyway, Eloquin did his best to hone my skills in the most excruciating way possible, declaring the lesson done only when I was an exhausted, groaning heap.”

Jess winced. “Anyone mock you for your loss?”

Her friend chuckled. “Are you kidding? All I got was applause that I lasted so long, that I kept getting up after each throw. I must be improving, I actually got a few licks in myself, but far and away everyone was gazing at Eloquin in awe and no small amount of fear. I swear, Jess, the way he moves, I’m not even sure he’s entirely human.”

Jess grinned. “I’ve sometimes wondered if perhaps he is a Delver. He is so damned fast, and never tires, even as he goads Hyve from time to time, and Eloquin is no spring chicken.”

Malek nodded. “But he doesn’t look old at all, either. Not even middle-aged. He’s sort of...”

“Timeless?”

Malek dipped his head. “Exactly.”

Jess shook her head. “I know I’m nothing like I was when we first became Squires of War, neither my brother nor father are anything close to a match, but Eloquin? He really is in a league all his own.”

Malek drunk deep of the flask she had passed him, giving a relieved sigh. “Thank you for the moment’s respite, shieldsister. Now on to what really matters. Did you find any trace of the children in the woods?”

Jess gave a grim shake of her head. “No. But it was definitely foul play, not just children running off to do mischief. And I think, perhaps, I might have a clue as to who the guilty party is. But we must act with all haste. Evening is fast approaching, and if any other children were to go missing, night is when our enemies would strike. I need your help for our next step. I fear I would be shouted out of the baths entirely if I approached as a supplicant, as heated baths are considered more of a privilege than a right, particularly the nobles’ baths.

Malek’s eyes widened. “Thank the gods you found a lead, Jess. None of the keep staff or students I approached know anything, for all that a few teased my bumps and bruises. I talked with Raphael, Josie, even Alex, and they have nothing. Poor Alex, he looked downright flustered, saying that there’s no good elemental magics for tracking down a missing person.”

Malek chuckled. “If heading to the baths will help us track down the culprit, by all means. I could certainly use a good soak.”

At as rapid a pace as their legs could take them, utterly oblivious to the hostile stares that normally cut her to the quick, Jess made her way to the sounds of conversation and laughter and no small amount of splashing so characteristic of the common baths at this time of day. She felt a smile soften her features despite her worries and care. For all that she made do with bucket and rag, she was dying for a good soak.

“Get out of here, supplicant, and crawl back to your quarters, lest you’d have me beat you for insolence,” said the glaring proctor seeming to stand guard before the baths themselves.

Jess frowned, recognizing the grim-faced man, having accompanied the head proctor himself from the capital after poor Walter had died. Thinning strands of oily hair did nothing to beautify his hard, craggy face. He had the build of a former soldier, his hostile stare declaring everyone his foe.

Malek frowned. “Why is a proctor standing watch over the baths?”

The man furrowed his brow. “As if it was any concern of yours, student. If you’re not here to bathe? Piss off, lest you’d have me report you.”

Malek’s gaze hardened.

“What we mean to say is that not so long ago it was the keep staff that manned these baths. We never troubled our proctors over it," Jess explained.

The proctor glared at Jess, cracking his nuckles. “Times change, supplicant. The bitch who manned these baths before fell asleep when lords required her services.” He sneered. “She got the whipping she deserved and was sent packing, never mind her pleas.”

Jess clenched her fists at that. “You mean to tell me that she was whipped the way I was and exiled? Left in agony to fend for herself?”

Cold eyes met her own, lips worming into a cruel smile. His hot-eyed contempt burned into her. Gleeful hate that seared to the bone. In that moment, Jess knew all the awful things he would do to her, given half a chance. The terrible things he had done to more than one sobbing chambermaid, afraid even to gaze at a man without flinching, too terrified to say a word.

The things he had done to the poor girl after she had been whipped, howling and pleading. In one horrific epiphany Jess saw it all, through the malice of his gaze.

“That’s right, supplicant.” He spat at her feet. “She cried a fair bit, even begged. Hatsk likes it when they beg. Didn’t make a difference, of course. Just made my master whip her all the harder.” His laughter was cruel. “Nothing more than a supplicant’s robe for her as well, and no reason to trouble the healers, gutter trash like that getting its just desserts. If she’s lucky, she’s landed herself a job at the doxy house in town, though I’ll bet it’s nothing but agony, pleasing men after what we did to her.”

His twisted smile widened. “Come to think of it, you’re forbidden from even approaching the baths. And you know it, don’t you, girl? You came here knowing there would be discipline for you.” He tutted mockingly, glaring at Malek “Leave, student! The supplicant must be appropriately punished. You will be whipped too, if you don’t leave immediately.”

He grabbed Jess’s arm, panting, a strange hunger in his eyes. “Come, supplicant! It is time for your whipping, so richly deserved.” A hot whisper as he tightened his grip upon her left arm. “You crave it, don’t you, girl? The hot sting of the whip, other torments as well. Don’t deny it, I can see it in your eyes. You won’t be the first girl I’ve disciplined in this school. You hunger to tremble before your betters. And tremble you will, supplicant, when I’m done with you.”

Corridor empty. Laughter and shouts but feet beyond.

“Jess, control...” Her familiar’s voice, tinny and faint.

Her shieldbrother gazing at her so strangely. Moving so slowly.

Only then did Jess note the proctor’s gloating had turned to awful gurgles. Features purpling, grasping his shattered throat.

The sting of sharp pain to her middle knuckles, having twisted free of his grip, darting low, spearing his larynx as fast as he could blink. A blow hard trained, her foe’s chin so high and haughty, sneering down at her.

Her strike delivered with a killer’s practiced ease.

Just as Eloquin had taught.

The proctor coughed and wheezed, slipping to the ground.

Malek’s gaze one of wide-eyed horror.

And all Jess felt was a terrible, hideous fury. Her mind still on fire with the poor girl’s desperate screams, whip scoring flesh and muscle, shrieks to no avail, no master to stop those furious blows.

Then this beast had raped her.

The man gurgled, feet kicking the tile stones, hands clawing desperately at his throat, bloody foam dribbling from his lips.

“Jess!” Malek’s panicked cry.

Heart racing, bolt of terror coursing through her. She had just -don’t think it, never think it, focus on the moment, only this moment- Linen closet just inside, no good. Constantly used.

“Jess, over here!” Malek, bless his fiercely protective soul. He knew her gifts, all too well. “This room here. Storage, abandoned since they now just stack those towels inside the baths. Let’s hurry!”

Jess gazed at the dying man, gazing at her, terror in his eyes, bloody pinpricks growing, gurgling desperately for breath that would not come.

“Hurry, Jess, now! Students are coming around the corner!” Twilight’s voice, compelling her to action.

She exchanged a panicked glance with her brother-in-arms. As one they heaved and lifted up the struggling man, his pleading wheeze choking forth, eyes widening in dying hope, before being roughly thrown into the abandoned room, the pair darting in after and shutting the door so quietly as students hooting and hollering could be heard making their way to the baths.

Jess touched the door, weathered oak, centered by its soothing presence, desperately trying not to think about the man gurgling his last, only inches away.

Jess collapsed to her knees. Trembling still. “Oh gods, Malek, what did I just do?”

Powerful arms held her tight. “Shh, shieldsister. Don’t think about it. Not even for a moment. He was a right piece of filth, and got what he deserved.”

Jess sobbed once, a terrible, horrid weight on her chest, somehow knowing the instant the man expired.

“Jess? I think the coast is clear. Come on, Jess, we have to leave.”

The sharp sting of her familiar’s claws. “Oww!”

“Hurry, Jess,” Twilight hissed. “You have moved your piece. So be it! Only a fool would let regret doom her before the gambit has played out. Investigate as you can, then back to your quarters. We can finish up later, as time permits.”

Jess gulped for the words, Malek allowing her no more time, his powerful hand grabbing her arm, yanking her back on her feet, his careful eye checking for telltale signs, brushing the knees of her robe before pulling it off and tucking it under his shirt, skillful enough to spread it so it looked like nothing more than a paunch, his shoulders naturally wide enough to carry it off without looking absurd.

“For what comes next, we need to look the part of respectable students. At least you had the sense to put on tunic and hose underneath. You don’t look perfect, but you’re still better dressed than any commoner.” Nodding once, Malek opened the door, and they were out in the main hallway once more, trembling for breath.

Malek shook his head. “You play for keeps, Jess, I give you that.” He gazed at the door. “Time to do what you do best.”

Jess bit back hot tears, pleading to the door to keep her terrible secret. And such a hot relief it was, to sense the peaceful love it filled her with, as if but an echo of all the grand forests of Erovering. It judged her not at all, life and death both having their place in the great forest, nurturing the roots which in turn fed the trees blossoming with such sweet fruit for all the creatures of earth and air.

The tiniest of requests, instantly granted, and Jess near crumpled, flooded with relief and shame in equal measure.

Twilight bowed his head. “Well done, mistress, though how anyone will explain the oak tree blossoming through the window slits is beyond me.”

Jess trembled a nod. “But by that time, a certain unfortunate proctor will be...”

“Mulch, loam, a few bone fragments belonging to any creature at all.”

Jess nodded, gazing at her worried friend.

“All right, shieldbrother, let’s find some damn clues before another child goes missing.”

Malek nodded. “Sounds good. What exactly are we looking for?”

“A drinking flask,” Jess said as they entered the steamy baths, catching sight of a well-dressed servant, frightened eyes now glancing her way. So, there were attendants besides the former surly bastard after all, Jess thought. She did her best to smile, as if nothing were amiss.

“May I help you, my lady?” The young brunette quickly asked.

Jess smiled and nodded. “There had been a bath lady here, just a few days ago? Always so kind, assisting me in the nobles’ baths, never forgetting my favorite snacks or drink, or to rub my shoulders with the proper oils. I heard a rumor that the royal baths had snatched her up, and I wanted to make sure my favorite was still on staff.”

The brunette trembled, brown eyes going wide. “Do you mean Sella? Is that where she went? Oh, we’ve been so worried about her! One of the nasty proctors said that she was a disgrace and left the keep in shame, but that didn’t sound like Sella to me. She’s about as sober a girl as any you could meet. I know lords drink wine with every meal, but Sella only drinks table ale like any proper merchant or craftsman. It fills the belly and sates the thirst, and you never get sick from it, but hardly any giddies at all, if you catch my meaning.”

Jess smiled. “Suitable for the soberest merchant or student. I’ve had many a small beer myself with my fare, though I prefer a good Calenbry Red in the evening.”

The brunette, relieved, nodded. “Rumors of her being a drunk are right cruel. Blessed Highrock is different, but any laborer from the city knows water is not really safe to drink. Small beer is safer, and that awful proctor implying she’s a drunkard was being right cruel.”

“I quite agree. Sella has always been exemplary in her care of me. I don’t suppose you know where her things are kept? Perhaps I can find traces of an invitation, and we can make sure there is no truth to the proctor’s cruel rumors.”

The brunette frowned, pausing only to hand several fresh towels to chatting students happily paying Jess and Malek no mind, before waving Jess to follow her to a niche in the rear of the grand domed chamber, with a number of hardwood alcoves.

“That is her hutch, my lady,” she said, pointing to the farthest one on the bottom left.

Without hesitation Jess crouched and began sifting through the contents, hands trembling as she found what she sought.

Jess stood to her feet once more, showing the girl the flask. “This is Sella’s, I presume?”

The girl shrugged, “It looks like any other to me. It was with her stuff, as you can tell. No note, I take it?”

Jess gave a sad sigh. “No, I’m afraid not,” she said, too quick hands pulling out several coppers before the startled girl could blink, placing them in the girl’s hot palm before she could say a word in protest. “You’ve been a dear, and it looks like I might just need to find a new bathing attendant who serves me as well as Sella did.”

The girl blushed and smiled, puzzlement fading to a hunger to please. “I will certainly do my best, my lady. My name is Francine. Besides knowing the best cheeses and wine for the baths, I’m also a fair hand at massages, easing away cramped muscles for any soldier after a hard day’s training, and I would be happy to take care of your needs, the next time you stop for a soak.”

Jess grinned. “Excellent, Francine. Duty calls, but when next I have leisure for a hot bath, perhaps I will take you up on that offer.”

The girl bowed as they parted, Malek flashing Jess a grin. “Well played, shieldsister. Suspicion averted with the hopes of earning coppers from an eccentric, generous patron. And she a pretty enough girl. Don’t think I failed to notice how you eyed her. Did we find what we sought?”

Jess shrugged. “Let’s get back to my quarters. I don’t want to be seen meditating over a flask in public, particularly in my current state of disgrace. Speaking of which…”

Malek smiled, looking both ways and making sure the hallway was empty, slipping Jess’s robe over her head once more with a flourish.

Jess chuckled softly, and before she knew it she was back in her quarters once more, bowing over the flask even as Malek looked on.

She closed her eyes and took a deep sniff. Tasting traces of barley, yeast, a mixture of delectable spices common in the finer ales before shuddering abruptly, dropping the flask with trembling hands.

“Jess?” Malek, gazing at her with such concern even as she hissed, fists clenched and shaking. It was good she had waited to be back in her quarters. More than ever, she needed control. When she let her rage get the best of her, the results could be horrific.

Even if well deserved.

“She was drugged. Poor Sella was deliberately drugged. Extract of nodgrass. Potentially toxic, in small quantities herbalists and healers use it to cure the most severe forms of insomnia. I smell it on the flask, Malek.”

She turned to gaze at her solemn faced friend. “It’s time I told you everything.”

A short time later Malek gazed about in fury, fists clenched as tightly as Jess’s has been. “Those bastards threatened Sable and her child?”

Jess nodded. “Their comments had been rife with innuendo, but Twilight made it clear that Sable and Liam had very much been in peril, and their hunters very much planning to kill Julia, should they catch her. Fortunately, they won’t be a problem any more. I have it on excellent authority that Liam and Sable are quite safe, now.”

“Thank the gods,” Malek said.

“Indeed. And it was Sella who had been Sable’s bath attendant at the time, completely lost in her cups, or so it had seemed. But if this truly is her flask, and nodgrass was added to the brew used to drug her, and Glist, Ubel’s henchmen, just happens to be a skilled brewer… I think the conclusion is obvious.”

Malek scowled. “And poor Sella. When she should have been delivered to the healers, she was instead accused of drunkenness and whipped within an inch of her life, cast out, and for all we know, dead in a ditch of exposure and infection.” He locked gazes with Jess, smiling bleakly. “The more I learn, the less I regret punching that bastard Hatsk as hard as I could.”

Jess smiled grimly. “I heard the rib crack, as did a few Aspirants, applauding the fool’s collapse. He cared nothing about the truth, was just glad to have a pretext to torment and destroy that poor woman, caught up in the machinations of another.”

Malek caught her gaze. “And that proctor… he really did those things?”

Jess shuddered. “You heard what he was whispering. So hungry to dominate, he was about to accost me before your very eyes. A predator with no control over his own twisted passions. How many girls has he hurt here at Highrock already? Girls who will never come forward?”

Jess grimaced, gazing at her feet, unable to bear her shieldbrother’s pitying gaze. “When he looked at me, I sensed his malice, how much he despised me. How he reveled in the thought of my pain. It’s like I caught a glimpse of his foul, festering soul. It sounds like madness, I know. Who could guess the thoughts of another? And I play the fool so often, so well. But in his eyes… so filled with malevolent hostility, somehow, I heard the echo of all the girls who had screamed in his arms before. Even as his eyes burned with the need to torment my flesh, to make me writhe and buck with pain, as he had so many before, in his horrid career as a henchman for this inquisitor turned head proctor.”

Her eyes met his own. “After Hatsk left her in an agonized, broken heap, Gruntig used her, delighting in her screams, forcing her to suffer inside and out.”

Malek frowned. “I don’t doubt you, Jess. It’s just, I never heard of such a gift.”

Jess’s bitter chuckle turned to a sob. “Most of the time, I’m just like you. I don’t know what people are thinking, how would I? I can just sense, well, if someone is lying to me. Not to help me or butter up the truth, but to hurt me, to swindle me, to set me up for horror. Any trace of malice, and their words just fester in the air, and I know that whatever they said was to cause me grief.

“But Malek, it doesn’t normally go any further than that. I just know if someone is being a right bastard and bears me ill will, after whispering such fork tongued words. But other than that? You know how often I get things wrong, especially in class, especially if my friends play a trick. If you or Raphael tell me the wrong answer to a question, and you don’t know it’s wrong, or you say it with love, or you speak of any issue that does not involve me personally… how would I have any idea if you spoke the truth or not?”

Jess shuddered. “If that monster hadn’t been struck with the mad urge to whip and rape me if he could, thinking his rank and my chastisement gave him such awful power over me, pinning my gaze as he whispered such dark things, I wouldn’t have been forced to see the hideous blackness of his soul.”

Malek frowned. “What if you came across a savage killer who didn’t see you as a target? Who could care less about you?”

Jess shook her head. “As long as he wasn’t lying to my face with malice in his heart, I wouldn’t suspect a thing. I wouldn’t have the faintest clue as to the darkness in his soul. No more than any of us Squires are trained to sense a person’s motives, I mean.”

She gazed at her still shaking hands. “And I felt such a fury...”

“Like with Billy,” Malek softly said.

“Yes. Like with Billy.”

“Of course, Billy’s still alive.”

Jess closed her eyes. “Billy’s was a twisted hunger. But he was still a boy. And he wasn’t intending to rape me. Just betray you, me, everyone in our circle. And I caught a glimpse of the hunger he had for Josie, tied to the malice he had for me. For all of us. Bitter, envious, hungry. And it was close, Malek. Gods, was it close.” She shuddered with regret. “Had I all Eloquin’s skills then? He would surely have perished in a heartbeat…” She gazed mournfully at a solemn-eyed Twilight. “Before my cat could talk some sense into me.”

Malek held her close, kissing her forehead, saying nothing as she sobbed on his shoulder. “Gruntig was the name of that bastard?”

Jess trembled and nodded.

“How do you know his name?”

Jess blinked back a tear. “I just know.”

Malek shook his head. “What’s done is done. And if he had forced himself upon not just one, but multiple women, it was the king’s justice, bringing him down.” He chuckled ruefully. “Had he actually managed to hurt you himself, Jess, I would have cleaved his head from his shoulders without a lick of regret, and off for the hills for us both, and done with this school.”

Jess nodded. “I still feel like a savage killer.”

Malek flashed the bleakest of smiles. “That we are, Jess. Eloquin’s blackened daggers, let us never forget.”

Jess sighed. “You know how fiercely I love him. I will fight against all odds when it is time for us to ride once more. But just the same, wouldn’t you love to escape this bittersweet savage life, to lose yourself in realms of dream and wonder?”

Malek chuckled softly. “It is a sweet dream, and even if it turns out to be naught more than fantasy, a distraction from life’s bitter lessons, I have every intention of being there when Rens and his coterie ward us from this mysterious rift when it appears, the same as you.”

Jess hugged him tight. “Good. The thought of you being by my side brings me comfort. I could barely hang on as a Squire who was given free leave to act the playful fool whenever we were not called to duty. Escaping in constant distraction, doing all I could to push awful memory away. Now though, showered with contempt, expected to bear the weight of every class, every ire-filled professor’s gaze, focus on every boring shred of drivel even as my ears begin to play back the clash of steel, the screams of dying men such that I feel that I am drowning in it, desperate to dart out of those classes and retreat to the rooftop garden that is my sanctuary...”

Jess shuddered. “I know I am an utter disappointment to my professors. And I no longer care. I am at my limit, and I pray something changes soon, or I shall pack my bags, mount my mare, and just let Mercy take me wherever she will.”

“That is always an option, my Jess,” Twilight soothed, rubbing against her, butting away her tears. “Should these wild games Eloquin plays cease to entertain you, should the foolish idiocy so infecting the professors of this school ever become too much to bear, a world of adventure and delight awaits us, and we need never look back, not even once.”

“Thank you, Twilight,” Jess whispered, stroking her purring cat, even as Malek gazed sadly on.

Jess forced a smile. “Come on, shieldbrother, enough moping from me. What’s done is done, as you said, and we are just lucky that Gruntig didn’t recognize your face, for all that your name must have gotten around, after what you did to the head proctor today.”

Malek grinned. “Lucky indeed. If that fool had bothered to watch Eloquin disciplining me, who knows what would have happened?”

Jess shrugged. “At least that serpent is dead, with many more still slithering about our home. We still have missing children to save and a bastard of a brewer to stop, no matter the stains upon our souls.”

Malek nodded. “So, what’s the plan?”

Jess gazed at Twilight.

“Of course, mistress. I will let you know the moment he moves to strike.”

Jess flashed a grateful smile. “Thank you, beloved one.”

Malek frowned. “What was that, Jess?”

“My cat has just agreed to keep a hawk’s eye on Glist. The moment our brewer does anything out of the ordinary, Twilight will race to inform us.”

Malek nodded. “Good. Then assuming our luck holds and no professor or proctor thinks to strike, we will wait for his signal. I’m heading back to quarters for my gambeson and mail. No one thinks much of gloves, being a fashion statement as much as practicality, but some mail lined gloves will give us hand protection and anonymity both.”

Jess grinned, raising her calf-skin gloves lined with links of steel. “Great minds think alike, brother. And padding is well and good, but not if it gives the game away. A thin gambeson only, and a dark tunic over the mail.”

Her shieldbrother winked, heading out the door. “Of course. And glad I am that those fools didn’t completely defang you. You have weapons enough for both of us.”

Jess smiled at that, settling down to stretch and meditate, preparing herself for what was to come, if indeed, anything was to come of it at all.

And quite unexpectedly, she fell asleep.

“Jess, wake up, we have trouble!”

39

Jess groaned, torn out of softest dream, breath hitching as she caught sight of her familiar’s sapphire eyes. “Glist has made his move, we have no time!”

Jess jolted fully awake, heart racing with a furious sort of vindication even as her stomach churned with dread.

So, this was it, then. It was really happening.

“Hurry, Jess! No time!”

Jess shivered, calming her racing thoughts, forcing herself to focus methodically, just as if she were preparing to ride under Eloquin's banner once more, and not acting independently under threat of expulsion.

Eyes upon the quilted gambeson she had laid out, slipping it on in a heartbeat, her hauberk of mail donned but seconds later, then buckling on her swordbelt, saber in its special sheath, slipping on her mailed gloves and white robe last of all, glad that her full-length robe of shame covered all trace of her armaments, the hole she had slit into it allowing for easy draw of her saber, folds carefully prepped so her hand could effortlessly yank the blade free. Gloves hooked to mail shirt and any slash could be parried, even at the cost of bruises and perhaps cracked bone.

“You look fine, Jess, let’s go!”

A final moment to slip a wooden baton up the arm of one of her robes, and she was at the door, frowning at that last moment. “But Twilight, what about Malek?”

His gaze narrowed. “I thought he was coming back to meet with you, after donning his gear. You are now saying you made no change of plan, that he was expected.”

Jess swallowed, her stomach twisting in an anxious knot. “Yes, Twilight, that is exactly what I’m saying.”

Twilight shook his head. “I find this troubling. But unless you’d have another child fall to this monster’s wiles, we need to intercept Glist now! To Malek we will race immediately after, assure the fool isn’t abed, for all I sense is stupor from him.”

Jess frowned, knowing there was no time for distraction, instead racing out the door, feeling the slightest tug to her ankle, adroitly rolling into a tumble and leaping back to her feet in an instant, as if dodging unseen ambush, even as the clatter of glassware and crockery echoed behind her. She darted back only a moment to see that a plate piled high with foodstuffs and drinks left by her door had been scattered in such a mess as to assure a long night for whoever came to clean it.

Twilight frowned. “Odd. Keep alert, Jess. The corridors should be near empty at this hour.”

Jess nodded, racing for the turn before lurching back, ducking her head with desperate urgency as a wide-bladed dueling knife slashed for her throat.

“Bloody whore! Let’s see how skilled you are now, when live steel is in play!” Hissed none other than Duggin, stinking of sweat and ale, thin sandy hair plastered to his head, eyes blazing with fanatic, drugged hate. “It’s your fault all this happened to me. Your fault I am trapped in this body, in this life, mocked by everyone, when I could have been something better! Something beyond the harping fools filling this college! Forever young, savoring the High Hunt by the side of a living god! But you wrecked it, you goddamned whore! You wrecked it, and I will claim your life!”

A bolt of terror, disbelief at the madness of the claim turning instantly to coldest calculation, time instantly slowing as she embraced battle madness once more.

Noting his shift in stance, eyeing Duggin’s foot and a half long sharpened blade; four inches wide at the hilt tapering to an abrupt point with multiple fullers running its length. It was as much a short sword as dueling dagger, and deadly at close range.

Duggin’s grin was pure madness. He roared as he thrust and slashed.

He was a fellow student, and he was trying to kill her.

So be it.

Step slide and pivot as Duggin slashed high, wrist grabbing at forearm, pulled free with a snarl.

Jess dove in.

Mail lined glove catching furious thrust, palm strike to elbow. Duggin howled, pulling back, slipping free.

Jess stepped inside his guard as injured arm was pulled back, pivoting left, palm slamming into face, nose a pulverized mass of cartilage and gore.

Duggin stumbled back with a cry, blood shooting out of his shattered nose, eyes squeezed shut with shock and pain.

Snap kick to wrist, Duggin’s deadly blade sent flying as he hissed and lurched back.

Jess roared and lashed out, boot slamming into knee.

Crack of bone, horrified shriek, Duggin crashing down.

Lurch up and finish!

Jess, glaring into her foe’s dazed eyes, boot heel above solar plexus, ready to deliver furious death.

“Please, please, don’t kill me!”

Sobbing, desperate eyes. A ruined face. His pleading stare so like Gruntig’s.

This boy a fool, drugged gaze only now clearing, no rapist.

Bitter and desperate.

Pleading with her soul.

Jess shuddered and stepped away, head spinning, time crashing back to normal in an instant.

Twilight’s gaze locked upon her own. “Well done, mistress. You could have finished him off, well within your rights, yet you chose not to. Showing mercy only when he is utterly vanquished, a threat this night no more.”

Her familiar’s gaze hardened. “But remember General Eloquin’s words. Never, ever leave an enemy at your back. At a later time, you know what you must do.”

Jess nodded, shaking at the thought. “I must question him. If he is sincere in his regret, his fear of me, well and good. If not...”

Twilight nodded. “He is done, and there is no further time. Let’s be off!”

Jess spared one last glance at his killing weapon, Duggin having no sheath for it, a dark suspicion creeping up her spine even as she gazed at the blade, shimmering in the moonlight.

And Malek was still unaccounted for.

Jess hissed. “Damn, let’s move, Twilight. Something doesn’t feel right here!”

Twilight nodded, the pair loping down the corridor as one, Jess eager to make the stairs as Twilight led the way.

“Halt, Penitent! Your crime has been witnessed! Assault, attempted murder with a bladed weapon. Halt, or we will be authorized to use lethal force!”

Jess gazed back at a wild-eyed Hatsk, noting the hooded gazes of several other proctors as well. The latter came forward with a grim sense of purpose, men who had been a part of this school’s ebb and flow for as long as Jess could remember.

Yet Hatsk’s cruel eyes gleamed with excitement, his lips curling into an ugly smile.

“That’s right, Calenbry, I caught you red-handed! Assaulting, nay, attempting to murder a student. You will be lucky to escape imprisonment, wench. I look forward to dishing out just punishments for all your crimes, taking my pound of flesh before letting you hobble out of this school, a pariah forever after!”

Twilight’s gaze locked with her own. “Jess, we have to move, now!”

Jess grimaced, catching the gaze of the hard-eyed men just behind Hatsk. “You mean like poor Sella? Who you had whipped to within an inch of her life without informing dean or seneschal, without committee decision or trial? Expelled her penniless and broken, ripped open and bleeding, easy prey for any predator on the road, with no home to go to? She was drugged, you fool! And instead of bringing her to the healers, you tortured her and left her to die! You don’t believe in justice, you’re a sadist! No doubt sent here to spy for your masters and destroy this school!” Jess roared her accusation for all to hear, Hatsk stumbling back, lips curled in a hostile snarl, the men behind him frowning at those words.

“That is the monster you are working for. Poor Walter did not fall from the battlements in a drunken stupor. He was drugged and murdered by Hatsk’s mole here in Highrock, so his master could force the dean to take Hatsk in his place! Our enemies are many, and even now they align to strike, destroying anyone who dares stand up to them!”

So many blind shots she had taken, a spray of arrow fire at facts still concealed by uncertainty, but the way her foe flinched back made it all too clear Jess had scored more than one blow against him.

And the other proctors were no fools. They saw it too.

“Join me if you dare!” Jess shouted. “I’m going after the man responsible for the poisoning, who is kidnapping another child as we speak!”

And Jess turned on her boot heels, dashing off, a fierce satisfaction at sowing dissension in her enemies’ ranks, chilled by how close she feared she was to the truth of it all.

Jess caught Twilight’s gaze. He nodded. “Yes, Jess. You have it in one. Regarding Glist. Playing the friend, slipping one of the laborer’s a flask of potent brandy. Glist followed them, lounging about, just in sight of their quarters with the darkest of smiles. I checked inside. The entire family was lost in a stupor.”

Jess nodded. Hot rum toddys a treat many families shared together in the evening. No more than once in a while and no harm done, but in this case, the entire family drugged into a deadly stupor.

Jess felt her heart race in anxious panic, redoubling her speed as her familiar loped just ahead, desperate to get there in time.

Shouts off in the distance.

Screams and panicked roars.

Jess felt a sickening lurch in her stomach.

“That was Malek!”

Twilight nodded. “Faster, mistress. Your fool of a Hound is in trouble once more.”

Jess grimaced, turning the corridor, then another and another, winding down passageways she had explored infrequently at best, then not at all, desperately keeping Twilight in sight, seeing at last figures struggling at the very end of this final hall. As deep within the bowels of Highrock as she had ever been.

The panicked features of a tow-headed boy locked upon her own, hands and feet bound by Glist himself, and for all that the movements were drugged, still he pummeled the sobbing boy, who cried out, crumpling into a ball.

“Behave, worm, lest you’d have me smash open all your pretty teeth!” Glist cursed before pivoting around, locking gazes with Jess.

His eyes widened, backing towards the massive door at the very rear of the abandoned corridor. Jess swallowed, a shiver running down her soul. She did not recall ever having explored this far before, did not think there were any corridors this deep, plunging straight into Highrock mountain.

She lurched, falling forward, choking on the stench of molasses and brimstone.

“Twilight!”

“Jess, get a hold of yourself!” Her familiar hissed, nipping her ear.

She hissed. “Twilight!” blinking in surprise, not knowing why she had been momentarily dizzy, frowning at Glist even as his eyes widened. She was not expecting him to be armored. Though free of steel, he wore a thick, padded gambeson and leather gloves, his free hand upon the sword at his belt, even as his other effortlessly carried the now drooping boy to the door at the very end of the corridor.

“Open up! I have the child, and the bitch followed me! She actually made it through.”

With an eerie creek, the door began to open.

Furious, beedy eyes locked upon Jess, his dark smile turning to a nervous grimace as Jess dashed towards him, no matter that she felt as if she were charging upstream, so thick the air had become. His fist clenched his sword hilt even as he frantically pounded the door with his feet, and so slowly did it lurch open that Jess felt a fierce sense of exhilaration, knowing she had a chance!

Her foe swallowed, ready to drop the child and draw his blade.

And then the door lurched open, Glist and his limp captive abruptly yanked within by a massive hand.

Jess hissed and lurched back, heart pounding with dread.

The door slammed shut, far quicker than it had opened.

Jess swallowed. She turned to her familiar, gazing at her so intently, only now realizing how the walls bucked and wavered in the gloom, doing her best not to look at the shadowy indentations slowly forming.

Sapphire eyes met her own. The distant cries of Hatsk and the others could be heard, far off and faint, as if shouting from across an impossibly vast chasm.

Jess swallowed. “We have to go through there, don’t we?”

Twilight nodded. “But first, mistress, you must ready yourself. Take off your silly robe and the mail hauberk you wear underneath.”

“But Twilight, that’s absurd! It would leave me all but defenseless!”

Her familiar slowly shook his head. “In all the days we have explored this keep at all odd hours, savoring the freedom of living as we chose, blackened dagger that you are, in all that time, have you ever stumbled along this corridor before?”

Jess frowned and shook her head, even as she shucked off her robe and shirt of interlocking iron rings.

She blinked, gazing at the walls anew as she dropped her shirt of mail, somehow certain that the shadowy reliefs of men writhing and twisting in torment hadn’t been there even seconds before, nor had they been moving. But perhaps it was just a trick of the odd light.

Jess looked up. Not a torch or magelight to be seen.

A scream, far off.

Jess gazed at the door. A massive affair of ancient hardwood in a frame of iron, it stood silent sentinel to the horrors Jess feared lay just beyond.

Jess shook her stunned stupor away, realizing she was wasting precious seconds, her hand slowly reaching towards the door.

“That is because we are no longer in Highrock proper, Jess. Though this is but the shallowest of puddles, we begin to dip into the sea of the strange.”

“This shouldn’t be here,” Jess whispered, even as her hands caressed the door.

She lurched back with a cry, gazing at Twilight with horror.

“Jess, what’s wrong?”

“It’s… the door. Somehow, oh gods, somehow it screams with the weight of all the poor souls lost, all the denizens of our home sacrificed to whatever horror lays beyond!”

Twilight frowned. “This is bad, Jess. Very bad.”

“I know!” Clenching fists now trembling with horror, Jess forced herself to face the door once more, dreading its hoary touch, knowing the pain trapped within.

“You have to do it, Jess. Elsewise those children, perhaps Malek as well, will remain trapped in that chamber of horrors.”

“I know that!” Jess sobbed, pressing both her hands to the door with a sudden cry.

Reeling as dozens of screams tore through her soul.

The haunted gazes of dozens of keep servants locked with her own, pleading desperately before shadowy figures as they were brutally cut down. Frantically raised arms bound together doing nothing to stop impending death, cruel laughter washing over them with their dying screams.

“By all the gods.” Jess shuddered. “So many. And some of them I recognize! People Malek and I, all of us Squires, rescued from slavery. Only to be… only to be...”

“Butchered by the vilest of serpents, in the heart of our home, the very memory of their loss torn from our minds as they were consumed by Shadow with their dying screams.”

"Heaven's mercy, Twilight, this is unthinkable!”

“Focus and get us through!” Twilight roared, fierce sapphire gaze burning through Jess’s awful stupor at last. “This is not your first time dipping your toes into waters of madness. You must be strong. You must break through!”

Jess jerked a nod, only then noticing her once well-cared for shirt of mail had somehow turned to a corroded heap of rust. In the span of seconds. “Twilight!”

“Don’t think, just do. Now, Jess!”

With a lurch, she pressed her hands upon the door once more, overwhelmed with the final agonizing moments of dozens of souls consigned to unthinkable horror once more. Desperately Jess dove past that, feeling the odd grains of that ancient door, sensing its torment, how desperately it yearned to be free.

“I release you, remnant of ancient forest. Remember the caress of warm sunlight upon your leaves, the gentle breeze rustling your branches, the cool patter of rain trickling down to your roots. Remember that ancient woodland one more. It is time to let go of horrors inflicted by man, and rejoin your brethren in the great garden once more.”

Jess bitterly forced her grip to hold, enduring horrors unimaginable even as she sensed the wood slowly surrendering the hideous cries that had so long tormented its fragile arboreal soul, embracing the dream of endless woodlands at last, so very far away. Jess all but felt the gentle whisper of the forest flowing through her, terrified grimace turning to a smile almost beatific as she felt the ancient hardwood floor, so drenched with magics dark and vile, sigh in gentle surrender, collapsing to dust before her relieved eyes.

Only to behold a scene of utter horror.

40

Before her was a massive chamber. The floor tiles were covered in pentagrams and sigils that glowed a baleful crimson light, and in each of them was a child, sobbing helplessly, writhing upon ancient wooden frames, hands spiked cruelly upon crosses, crying for mercy even as Glist and his cohort strapped in the very child he had been carrying but moments before, brutally jamming iron spikes into his flesh, pinning his body to the cross as he shrieked in torment.

All this Jess took in a single horrified instant, yet what truly shook her to the quick was seeing Ubel Niedrig himself, standing over a bloodstained altar upon which a shrieking child had been strapped. "Please!" The boy begged, turning desperate eyes towards Jess.

Ubel laughed. The massive Aspirant was covered in vile sigils that pulsated cruelly upon his naked flesh, wearing only a cape of what Jess was horrifically certain was human skin. At that moment, he was raising an ancient bronze kopesh blade up high, whispering dark curses Jess felt slither down her spine, their meaning instantly clear.

Ubel’s eyes snapped open. Pools of blood.

He favored Jess with the most twisted of smiles.

“Ah. Mord’s Doxy. Figured it out, have you?” Awful laughter bubbled from his lips as his kopesh blade swung down with chilling speed, desperate pleas cut off abruptly as Ubel cleaved open his victim’s chest, pulling out the boy's heart with a fierce yank, laughing with mad triumph as it burst into flame in his hand.

“By the Rites of Ancient Lilith, I claim the power of this mortal shell, for now, forever! To her I gift this glorious prize, may she feast ever more upon his soul, and gift me with the strength to crush all those I despise!”

“Jess!” Twilight roared. “If you would save these children, you must act, and now!”

Frozen in disbelief, Jess shuddered at those words, inconceivable horror slithering through her veins as every struggling child stared upon Jess with desperate hope, shrieking their terror, begging for aid.

“Jess! By all that is holy, stop that bastard!”

Jess felt her heart lurch, only now catching her friend’s desperate gaze, his clothing torn free, utterly naked, covered in bronze chains upon the largest of wooden crosses.

Malek was smeared in crimson. For an instant Jess thought the blood was his own, yet she saw how the blood hissed and bubbled, dripping off his flesh, revealing skin free of all blemish.

Malek howled, bucking against the coils of his chain, to no avail.

Ubel’s dark laughter seemed to fill the entire chamber of horrors. “Now you see the fate that was to be Sable’s get. Somehow, she escaped her doom, and Mord nowhere to be found. He has broken covenant, and will be forced to pay the ultimate price! But for now, your beating heart will do. Glist. Tarron. Seize her!”

The pair ceased trying to hammer spikes into the shrieking child pinned by one palm to the cross, withdrawing their blades with practiced ease, smiling so coldly at Jess as they approached, armor of hardened rawhide covering them both and protecting them, for all that their heads, like Jess’s, were free of all armor.

“Jess!” Twilight shouted, and Jess forced herself to finally break free of the horror that threatened to drown her soul.

She knew what she had to do. Glist and Tarron lurched back as she snarled, and Jess dodged aside, darting madly for the farthest corner of the massive chamber she found herself within, doing everything she could not to look at the hideous fresco of blood and vilest sacrifice painted upon the massive domed ceiling, focused only on reaching her friend. Fighting not just terror, but the black whispers of hideous power ebbing and flowing through this chamber of horrors. Honey-sweet energies she hungered for so fiercely, for all that she feared they would infect her with madness, corrupt her very soul.

Malek’s eyes widened with alarm, even as he bucked and howled. “Don’t, Jess! They will cut you down. Fight, you must!”

Yet Jess did not stop until she had ran right into the massive slab of wood her shieldbrother was chained to, one trembling hand clamping upon the bloodstained wood, biting her lip as she prepared to endure horrors, shrieking as the endless cries of innocent women and children tortured upon that slab flooded through her, terror turning to unspeakable fury as Glist and Tarron approached.

Hand on hilt, fury in check. Smiling as Glist and Tarron closed.

Glist snarled. “We’ve had enough of your interference, wench. It is time to end this!”

Jess nodded. It was time.

With a cry, she let go of wood already crumbling in her fingertips, springing forth even as she weaved to Glist’s left, catching sight of his furious gaze, his blade almost lazily thrusting forward, an attack effortlessly dodged even as she whipped saber out of sheath, snapping her hips with a soft grunt as her blade sliced through the air faster than Glist could blink.

Yet blink frantically he did, eyes wide with horrified wonder as they spun through the air along with his cleaved head, washing Jess and Tarron both in a spray of blood.

Tarron lurched back, dead black eyes glaring at Jess with darkest hate. “I’ll make you pay for that, b...” his voice suddenly cut off, forced to his toes and dropping his sword, a madly roaring Malek, wrists still manacled, wrapping a massive chain of bronze around the man’s neck, corded muscles showcasing terrible strength as he roared, slamming his hips into the back of Tarron’s spine as he arched and twisted, yanking Tarron to the tips of frantically struggling toes.

Ubel's powerfully build lacky bucked and writhed against Malek’s back, his strength nothing compared to Malek's murderous rage, desperate wheezes turning to crackling gurgles, face purpling hideously as Malek grimly throttled the man.

Malek met Jess’s eyes, his feral gaze breaking into the darkest of smiles as Tarron’s heels spasmed and kicked before he grew still at last. “Well played, sister of the blade. Now let’s kill that gods-damned bastard!”

Malek roared, contemptuously flipping a limp Tarron to the ground as he turned his gaze to a laughing Ubel, Malek's naked heel slamming upon the throttled man’s chest with an audible crack as he walked by Jess’s side, shattering the sternum, assuring his foe would not rise again.

Yet Jess had made those precious seconds count, frantic hands having found bronze keys upon the tattered pouch Glist had worn, trembling fingers forcing open the manacles of bronze, freeing her shieldbrother as he picked up Glist’s dropped blade, shaking his head.

“Jess! Stop him now!” Twilight cried, darting towards Ubel.

Ubel’s laughter turned dark. “Fool. You should have come for me when you had the chance!” He spat, gazing at Jess with sneering contempt. “For the ceremony is complete, their souls are mine!”

And Jess looked on with horror, shrieking along with the panicked children, all writhing and struggling desperately against their chains as inky blackness poured from Ubel’s chest, the crimson sigils interwoven upon the floor and crosses also transforming as darkness raced along the bloody lines like the vilest of infections.

Jess roared and cried out, charging forward, desperate to stop the hideous rite she sensed taking place.

“Help me!” She turned despite herself. Saw the child she had originally come to save bound only by poorly tied rope and a single cruel spike lodged in his hand, gibbering and sobbing as he tried desperately to break free, the stream of blackness slowly creeping up the crimson lines traced upon the slab and himself as well.

She turned and grabbed the boy’s panicked hand.

There was no time, no time at all.

The boy shrieked and fainted as Jess tore his hand free, hemp rope parting effortlessly, passing him to Malek without turning back. “Get him out of here! Else, he will die!” She glared at the mocking smile Ubel flashed her way. Now a creature of darkness, teeth gleaming bone, his bronze kopesh raised high, turning to a weapon of Shadow before her eyes.

“No, Jess, we don’t dare separate!”

“Run!” Jess screamed, only now sensing the danger, Ubel slashing down with his shadowy blade, a wave of devastation tearing apart the tiles between them, rushing for them like a massive wave. “Run!”

Fiercely, Jess clenched to her sense of self, imagining a bubble of the cool green forest infusing her as the terrible magics washed over her, fighting with every iota of her strength to bend the hideous black magics away from her, yet still she was sent flying. She, Malek, and the wounded boy, all sent rolling across the hard stone tiles, so many now burst to sharp fragments, a score of shallow lacerations upon the boy and Malek both, Jess’s gambeson protecting her from those injuries, for all that she felt disoriented and nauseous, Ubel’s laughter washing over her still.

“Impressive, bitch. Most people do not survive a shout of corruption. But you have only tasted the barest whisper of my power!”

Jess shuddered, lurching to her feet, only noticing the cuts to her hands as she found her miraculously intact sword but inches from her fingertips, feeling the fool for not putting mailed gloves back on once wood had been dissolved, yet there had been no time.

“Now taste the bitter tears of all the endless torment that shall soon be yours!” The dark shadow that had once been Ubel roared, and Jess, focusing intently, saw the hideous web of foul magics twine together in a pulsating web of power aimed straight at her.

“Run, Malek!” She screamed, raising up her blooded left palm, furiously pushing out with her odd gifts against the matrix of magic crashing against her before she was picked up and slammed against the wall.

As if she had attempted to grapple with a charging bull, avoiding the horns, but still knocked back by its terrible force.

Jess groaned, seeing stars as she crumpled to the broken floor.

Ubel roared with laughter, the children who had been desperately screaming for help but moments ago were now silent, for all that they struggled and writhed even more frantically than before. Drowning in that hideous skein of darkest Shadow as it devoured them, body and soul.

Jess choked out a sob. “You monster!” She shrieked, trembling with fury despite the waves of dizziness coursing through her. “I will end you, Ubel!”

Ubel shook his head, breathing deep of air smelling of blood and brimstone. “I think not, little Plaga wore. Rather, you shall make a most exquisite sacrifice as I tear you apart, spell by spell, til you are a broken, pleading wretch, begging for the knife, like all the fools to die by my blade.”

His laughter turned dark, ugly. And Jess hissed even as she forced herself to her feet once more, blinking as she sensed the odd wave of eldritch energies forming behind Ubel.

For all that Ubel’s magics tasted dark and foul, corrupted with sacrifice and suffering, the whispers of magic forming behind him were truly eldritch and strange. Ubel’s soul had been corrupted by darkness. The awful streamers forming behind him was darkness in its purest form, laced with the screams of the fallen. Utterly inhuman.

“And now it is time for you to suffer a bit more, Calenbry,” Ubel mocked, lashing out with his kopesh of shadow, sending a massive disk of crackling energies weaving for her head.

Jess desperately dodged back, shoving with her mind even as she stumbled away, barely avoiding the black disk of death exploding into the far wall.

Ubel’s laughter turned dark. “It will be sweetest bliss, when I tie you upon your pillar of pain and delight you in all the ways Mord never could.”

Jess hissed and weaved aside, whips of ebony dodged as she dashed forward, and still Ubel seemed unaware of the strange matrix forming behind him, tendrils of darkness somehow far worse than the shadow Ubel was choking his victims with.

“Jess, retreat! Now is not the time!” Twilight roared.

Jess hissed and lurched back as Ubel stepped forward, glaring at Jess with crimson sockets lost in shadow, where once his face had been. “Oh, don’t get cold feet now, Jess. I still remember the taste of your vile thorns against my flesh. Now I will let you taste shadow in its stead!” With that he raised his kopesh high, roaring challenge, a shield of shadow forming in his off hand.

Jess trembled and swallowed, raising her blade in tierce, sound becoming tinny and faint as movement began to stretch, battle madness mixing with terror as she forced her roiling belly to still, accepting the most horrific of bouts, death come for her at last.

Only to hiss and lurch back as the pulsating ball of inky midnight that had been forming coalesced into a writhing mass of twisting shadows hovering over Usel.

Scythe raised high.

Jess blinked, advancing no further, slowly stepping back.

Cruel, mocking laughter washed over Jess. “Coward, Jess? I knew you to be trembling and weak! Now you shall pay the price for daring to cross me, for failing to come to my quarters on your hands and knees when you had the chance!"

The scythe came down.

Ubel shrieked, a blade of midnight piercing his chest.

The massive apparition of midnight grew ever vaster, filing up the chamber entire, a kicking, screaming Ubel dragged along with him, hooked to the massive scythe still.

“Ah, little worm. You have served me well with richest sacrifice.”

Ubel shrieked with those words.

“But now it is time for you to come home, little worm, and savor the fruits of your efforts.”

“Master!” A choked whisper. “There is so much to be done. So many souls to harvest. Please… let me serve longer.” A desperate plea.

Cold laughter filled the chamber, tiles crashing down from the ceiling below. “Ah, my dear, sweet fruit. It is you that I have come to harvest. At the peak of ripeness. Another day, and you might rot on the vine.”

Mocking whispers turned black and cold. Jess gasped, almost drowning in the bitter ice of his words. “For these sacrifices were not made in my honor, but Lilith’s alone! You serve me, worm, and I shall take exquisite delight, reminding you of your place.”

The shadow that had been Ubel shrieked and begged, writhing upon the massive scythe.

“No, my little pet, no need to beg. You have served me long and well, this endless, cursed autumn. The rewards promised shall be yours. Darkest knowledge, sweetest power. Now it is time for you to savor the hideous joys of torment and submission. The dark rapture of obeisance, as I suck every iota of free will from your bones.”

Hideous laughter washed over Ubel’s shrieks. “You shall derive no greater joy than suffering for my pleasure, even as I drown you in knowledge to melt your brains, boiling the soup of your soul into a weapon worthy of standing by my side.” The eldritch thing nodded. “You shall be my favored slave. The hideous potency that shall burn through your rotted flesh every moment you serve me shall make all my other slaves tremble with avarice and horror.”

Crimson coals suddenly locked upon a trembling Jess. Liquid blackness shown with a line of burning flame that curved into a smile. “More sacrifices? What a pity we have run out of time.”

“Jess,” Twilight cried, voice tinny and strange, and Jess blinked, gazing towards a shrieking Ubel and the abomination of Shadow that had hooked him with his monstrous scythe as easily as Jess might hook a fish. And how Ubel kicked and writhed as crimson lightning began crackling into him. Yet Jess had to squint, so distant they had become, the back of the room twisting in hideous directions she could barely fathom.

“Jess, run!” Twilight cried, compelling Jess to look behind her. Malek and Twilight were at the doorway along with the one child they had managed to save, only feet away but fading from Jess, even as the chamber was rocked and jolted by strange tremors, tiles now crumbling from the ceiling, and Jess instantly realized her peril. This cathedral of horrors was about to collapse, in the heart of Highrock mountain.

Jess raced forward with a desperate cry, desperate to keep from stumbling as the tremors worsened, just making it through the doorway as the roar of crashing stone filled the chamber behind her.

Jess gasped, wheezing, stumbling to trembling feet before collapsing once more, her saber falling out of a suddenly weak grip. “By all the gods, what’s happening?” Jess whispered.

Malek’s gaze shook Jess to her core. “Dark things, Jess. Awful, vile things.” He resheathed her sword for her, helping her to her feet with one powerful hand, the other holding the sobbing child close.

Jess trembled, gazing at the walls, now deathly certain that the odd nobs of stone dappled with shadow were, in fact, the effigy of countless souls, writhing and shrieking in torment. And the corridor ahead grew misty and strange.

Malek hissed. “Come on, Jess. I don’t think we're through yet!”

“Your Hound is right!” Twilight snapped, darting forward. “To the end of the hall, as fast as you can!”

Jess gave a panicked nod, racing as fast as her feet could take her, the corridor stretching without end.

“Faster, Jess!” Malek’s frantic shout, already so far away.

A curious howl as the corridor began to buck and twist.

“Faster!”

A jolt of panic. Whispers of shadowy laughter growing ever closer.

With a desperate howl Jess lurched forward, blinded by brilliant light at the end of an impossibly long tunnel, crashing into oddest resistance, as if the nightmare she was trapped within would suck her back, and with a desperate sob she was free.

Stumbling to the ground, trembling with relief, knowing, somehow, that the nightmare was over.

A brutal foot stomped down on her back, another slamming into her fingers.

Jess screamed in pain.

Her ear was twisted, neck arched back. “Did you truly think you could flee me, you disgusting wretch? I will see you expelled and shamed for your monstrous acts!”

Jess felt her guts roil, trembling with exhaustion, utterly overwhelmed.

Having crashed right into the clutches of the waiting proctors, Hatsk all too eager to make her pay.

41

You don’t understand,” Jess cried, before Hatsk slammed her skull into the stone tiles.

“Silence, wretch! You are less than nothing! Guilty of insubordination, deception, attempted murder. You are a smear upon your family name, and I shall see your forehead burned with the mark of a criminal. See if I don’t!”

Roughly she was dragged to her feet, Malek as well, even the child, screaming in pain.

Hatsk glared at Jess. “What dark, twisted games are you playing at, witch? Harming a child? Oh, I shall dearly love to make you pay for that!”

“But you don’t understand...”

His fist pounded into her gut, harming her not at all as she braced herself, wearing her gambeson still. Then he boxed her ears with all his fury, her hands bound, in no position to fight back.

“Sir, you must stop, she’s noble-born...”

“She is a penitent! She has no rank! She is the lowest of the low! You there, get her robe!”

And before Jess could blink, the men had thrown the robe over her, binding it tight with cord, her arms double pinned, Hatsk taking vicious pleasure in cracking his baton into her flesh with every step.

“Malek!” Twilight’s voice, filled with urgency even as Jess stumbled from the blows.

“Get up, penitent! I gave you no leave to rest!”

For the barest moment, Jess caught Hatsk’s gaze, lips flecked with foam, skeletal face stretched with the darkest of grins. He was reveling in his fury, savoring any pretext to beat her. The malice she sensed from him sickened her.

And the corridor seemed to shudder with a terrible roar.

Men cried out, bodies slammed against the walls.

Jess caught a flash of Malek, one arm alone manacled once more, this time with iron, grabbing a suddenly hollering Hatsk and dashing him to the cobblestones.

Jess heard a sickening crack as the Head Proctor cried out in pain

Malek roared, picking him up once more, the desperate man shrieking, his companions groaning upon the ground.

Jess caught her shieldbrother’s gaze. Saw the murder within them.

“Sousel! At attention! Put the man down now, and face me!”

Eloquin’s voice. Jess and Malek both freezing where they stood, gazing with terror and relief at the man they admired above all others. Features otherworldly, yet so fierce, so hard. Few would dare to call him handsome, for all that Jess ever ached for his approving gaze. Decked out in odd scale armor of cobalt blue, hilt of shimmering glass strapped to his waist, and Jess could only wonder what type of sword would be so designed.

He looked nothing like the tactician covered in steel and death Jess knew so very well.

Malek trembled still, Hatsk raised effortlessly, kicking and thrashing.

Their mentor’s eyes hardened. “Do not disappoint me, Sousel.”

So much said with those words.

Trembling, Malek gently lowered Hatsk to the ground.

“Bring your sister-in-arms to my side, Malek, and the child as well.”

“They are my prisoners!” Hatsk roared. “You will not undermine my authority again, sirrah!”

Eloquin’s stare did not waver. Hatsk paled, stumbling back.

“The dean will hear of this. See if he does not, and he will see you all expelled!” Hatsk hissed, stumbling away, the two proctors by his side as they beat a hasty retreat.

Eloquin took in their battered forms; Malek’s stark nakedness, lacerations still dripping blood. He stared at the boy, trembling and sobbing, his injured hand held close. “Please, take me home. Take me to my mother. Please.”

Wordlessly Malek freed Jess of the penitent’s robe, donning it as attire, working to remove the manacles from Jess with a key picked off the ground.

“What happened, Calenbry?” Eloquin’s icy gaze bore into her own.

Jess trembled, licking dry lips even as her body throbbed with injuries suffered, Hatsk’s vicious beating having left her dazed.

“Calenbry!” A voice that brooked no delay.

“I… we…” Jess gazed helplessly at the boy crumpled up and sobbing, a robed Malek now holding him close. “We went in to rescue the boy,” Jess whispered finally. “And we encountered… horrors.”

Eloquin’s frown deepened. “Horrors? Explain.”

Jess shivered, exchanging haunted stares with Malek.

“A hideous thing of darkest shadow. It wielded a scythe, sir. Its lips and eyes roared with all the flames of Hell.”

Eloquin trembled. Jess shivered to see her mentor look so furious.

“Where?”

Jess blinked. “Excuse me, sir?”

“Where did this happen?”

Jess blinked. “Right there, sir.”

Pointing at a passageway long abandoned. A rough corridor free of rooms or alcoves that came to an abrupt dead end, as if the original designers had thought it futile to tunnel any further through solid stone.

Jess shivered. “That can’t be right.”

“I need an explanation, and I need it now.”

Jess swallowed, shamed to hear her voice so nervous, like a raw recruit being chewed out. “Yes, sir. I came, I believe I came down this way looking for this boy. Hatsk and his men were right behind me. They gave chase after...”

“After?”

Jess grimaced. “After Duggin came at me with a knife.”

Eloquin’s features were hard as granite.

“To be honest, I had all but forgotten him, but he obviously hadn’t forgotten me. I had taken his challenge last year, when a new batch of students hungered for the right to serve under you. I had bested him in the training rings. He is not a bad fighter, but that was only the beginning. You know the tests we perform to measure potential recruits to our ranks better than all of us, sir. Regardless of his skill, his ability to think on his feet was no better than that of the common soldier, and we all got the sense that in the din and cry of battle, he was as likely to turn tail and flee as not.”

Jess shrugged, wincing with pain. “He failed to make the cut, and he never forgave me. He thought it was my beating him, not his failures as a tactician, as a man, that prevented his recruitment. So, he took my robe as an excuse to heckle and assault me, tonight intercepting me in the hallways, with a cinquedea in hand.”

Eloquin’s gaze narrowed. “He just happened to be where you were, in the middle of the night, as you were chasing down that which has yet to be made clear?”

Jess nodded. “Though come to think of it, I was in such a hurry to leave my quarters that I managed to stumble over an end table covered with dining ware. Which is strange, because up to now, any attempts to leave food outside my door has resulted in it being an inedible mess by the time I find it."

Eloquin flashed a bleak smile. “You have many flaws, but a lack of agility is not one of them.

Jess sighed. “Only after my fight with Duggin did I suspect a trap. Perhaps a line was tied off with silk. In any event, the moment I had disabled him and had him on the ground, that damn proctor charged me, accusing me of assaulting Duggin, ignoring the cinquedea entirely. He then chased me down the corridors, and well, that’s when I went down the hallway that used to be right here.” Jess shivered. “It was very strange. Things happened.”

Jess exchanged a haunted stare with Malek. “But, well, I feel like some of it is missing. Like, well, maybe it was a dream.” She frowned. “I know we rescued this boy, I know there was an awful being of shadow with a dreadful scythe. And that’s basically all I remember.”

A confused Jess caught her familiar’s strangely sympathetic gaze, though he said not a word.

“Calenbry, I need to know everything that has occurred to you from the moment you first donned the robes of a supplicant and all the burdens that entails.”

He shook his head. “I did not expect perfection, but a week spent quietly licking your wounds, forced to accept bitter lessons, forged all the stronger for your trial. Never did I think you would break, surrendering your dreams, your service to me. Yet I had expected at the very least, reflection.” He shook his head. “Quiet you have been anything but, the head proctor himself daring to strike you in ways that would see him hanged, were you other than student and supplicant both, and never have I seen a man so eager to see you expelled.”

Trembling, Jess confessed everything to Eloquin that she dared, spotty and broken as her memory had become, for reasons she could not fathom. And she recalled that visceral rush of a puzzle solved, a stratagem uncovered, a riddle at last understood. Yes, for all that she once knew, now she felt frustrated, lost in the dark, so many pieces of the puzzle somehow torn free.

“I… there is so much I don’t remember, sir! There were other players besides that damned proctor and Duggin, I am sure of it! I was on the hunt for someone… children.” She rubbed her suddenly throbbing head. “But we found this child, yes? We save one child, at least.”

Desperate eyes met her shieldbrother’s. “Malek, what was our plan?”

Malek grimaced, shaking his head. “I remember being bound in a room of horrors, catching sight of some hideous thing, straight out of nightmare. And I ache, my body trembles, and somehow we are here, safe once more. By the gods, Jess, do you think we were drugged?”

Jess adamantly shook her head. “No, the poisoner was killed.”

“What poisoner?” Eloquin demanded.

Jess trembled. “By all the saints, I don’t even know why I said that. I don’t remember!”

Eloquin frowned. “So, you suspect children went missing, you saved this one clearly spiked through his hand, and assert there were others?”

Jess grimaced. “I think so? At least… oh by the gods, I don’t know! Didn’t the cook… didn’t she have a son?” Warm brown eyes flashing with mirth, a soup bowl handed to her. “someday I want to be a Squire like you, Jess.” And how her friends had chuckled at the thought. Jess had grinned, turning to face the boy, and there was nothing. Nothing at all.

“This isn’t right, sir. Something’s wrong!” Jess was panicked to hear her own hysteria.

“Impossible,” Eloquin said flatly. “The cook is barren. Everyone knows that, and no one is so foolish as to mock the pain we all see in her gaze, or why she has takes in so many homeless youths as cook’s help, treating them as her own. As for the boy you’ve found...” At last, an approving nod. “Assuming the lad corroborates any of your story, so long as he does not accuse you of causing him harm,” Jess spluttered at the very idea. “Then that will go a long ways to mitigating the consequences you will otherwise face.”

Jess gulped and swallowed. “But sir, Duggin set me up. Hatsk was beating me half to death.”

“Enough!” Eloquin shouted. Jess trembled to see him seethe. “Enough, Jessica. Enough harm has been done here. The fact that Hatsk struck you so violently, bruises to show for it, might mitigate your sentence somewhat, the sentence you and Malek will both be forced to share, he nearly killing the man.”

“But sir...”

“Silence, Malek!” Eloquin snapped. “Do you fools still not understand? More is at stake than toeing the line, which you have done exceptionally poorly, the both of you! All three of those proctors will serve as each other’s witnesses, and Hatsk has made it absolutely clear he wants you both gone. If he is working in concert with Duggin, they took care to dispose of the dagger. There is no more evidence than your word that mutual assault was in play, yet you with your penitent’s robe will be the one judged to be at fault.”

He flashed the bleakest of smiles. “He thinks to move against me. Though he might rue his folly one day, on this day he has the advantage, and he will use it to the utmost. Now let’s get all three of you to the healers. If nothing else, they can treat your bruises and attest that you are not drunk or raving, though with the story you are choosing to tell, even your allies will wonder.”

Jess stumbled, at a sudden loss for words, unable to refute him, because, in truth, it all sounded like madness to her ears as well. Knowing pieces were missing from the board that would make all the difference, yet having no idea who or what they were.

“And the corridor you found. You yourself saw that it extends only for a few yards, with no door at all to speak of.”

“But sir. Duggin, the boy we found. The blows we’ve taken. It has to mean something, doesn't it?”

Eloquin gazed at Malek and the boy’s forms, crimson sigils painted to their flesh, one all but naked, the boy seriously injured, all of them the worse for ware.

“I am afraid not, Calenbry. We have a head proctor eager for your fall, and an injured boy who, for all we know, was injured when you two went careening down the hall under the most illicit of hallucinogens

“That’s crazy.” Jess shook her head.

Eloquin frowned. “That’s the story your foes will swear to. That’s the reality of the battlefield. You know better than to criticize it, Jess. I will do my part, but your story, unfortunately, sounds like raving delusion.” He flashed a wintry smile. “No one would believe a rift into Shadow could form here in this school, entrenched as it is with wards reinforced over decades, which is what your madness implies. Any professor, even the dean, will be all too eager to dismiss whatever it is you have to say.”

Jess squeezed shut her eyes. “Then what can I do?”

Eloquin sighed. “After you visit the healer? You will head to your bedrooms, and sleep just as long as you need to, preparing yourself for the days ahead.”

And after being tended to by a tutting healer who declared Jess and Malek remarkably lucky and not at all under the influence of intoxicants, though quite thoroughly battered, they retired to their quarters, Eloquin himself promising to return the boy to his parents.

Jess shared a final bittersweet smile with her battered brother-in-arms, fondly tousling his hair as she stood outside her door. “This could be it, you know.”

Malek smiled, warm brown eyes twinkling merrily as he held her close. “Then to hell with them. To hell with them all. A boy we saved from awfullest torment, somehow, I remember that, and all we got for our troubles were insane proctors trying to beat us both to death. If this is how we are treated after fighting so long for king and Crown, then good riddance to them all. We will pack our bags, saddle up our mounts, and head off to lands filled with wonder and adventure, without a single lick of regret, savoring each and every day. See if we don’t.”

Twilight nodded. “Our Hound makes good sense. There is a whole world out there to discover, my mistress, wondrous and grand. Eloquin has served us well enough, teaching a plethora of useful skills, and we have served him in turn. So, feel no regrets if it is time for us to leave at last. Even the most halcyon of summers must end sometime, and we do so with many seasons of life left for us to savor whatever adventures we might find."

Jess gently kissed Malek’s cheek. “There is nothing I would love more than exploring the world by your side. But what about Jacob?”

Malek sighed. “There is the rub. We shall have to make pots of gold as glorious adventurers, then, so I may set my sweetheart up in the most luxurious of apartments, and he may shower me with adoration whenever I come to visit him in the capital.”

Jess smirked. “You’re terrible.”

Malek winked. “And you love me for it.”

“True.”

He held her close. “Sleep well, shieldsister. We will get through this, you will see.”

A final kiss on his cheek and she slipped into her rooms, quenching her thirst then washing off sweat and grime as best as she could with a single pitcher of water before slipping under cool cotton covers, sinking into soft, downy bedding, and letting merciful sleep claim her at last.

Dreams flooded through her then, twisted and strange.

She was racing down endless corridors that stretched before her, the end lost in shadows, malicious and cruel. She felt the need to run ever faster, knowing if she slowed down for even a second, they would consume her, body and soul.

Eloquin speaking before half a dozen soberly dressed professors, Proctor Hatsk shouting in turn, shaking both fists in fury, injuries healed, though his ugly scowl remained. Dean Echobart, with his rich mane of white hair and bearlike frame watching over it all. Jess had only seen him with a cheerful look of bonhomie whenever he had deigned to speak to her before, skilled at putting everyone at their ease. Here alone he looked grim and stern.

Jess quailed before the sight, then was sucked into the spinning vortex of yet more endless dreams.

Hideous laughter in shadows, the gurgling cry of a dying man, the shrieks of innocents suffering at the hands of monsters. The stench of blood and ruptured entrails, the cries of bandits and slavers dying to her blows. All of it washed over her, and desperately she tried to flee. But the harder she ran, the more it consumed her.

Forcing her to accept a truth that shamed her to the core.

She had been afraid.

In that awful room of darkness and shadow, feeling the hideous kiss of vile energies washing over her, through her, knowing she was but a heartbeat away from sinking into true Shadow, pulled from gentlest reverie to the darkest of dreams, she had fought with every iota of her will not to imbibe that madness.

She trembled at the thought of what it would do to her.

Of the horror she would become.

Remembering in that odd moment other corridors twisting strangely through reality she had stumbled upon, Malek and Mord both by her side.

And how Mord had smiled with darkest satisfaction when glistening silvery tendrils of alien appetite sprouting from possessed flesh had quested for fresh prey, before darting back, shriveling before her eyes.

For darkest Shadow preyed upon everything that dared its depths, save those mad souls that could feast upon that darkness, parasites in the vilest sense of the word.

When Jess had touched that haunted wood, she had been afraid.

Surrounding by the shrieks and screams permeating the grain, trembling as she dissolved the door, she had never been more uncertain, never been more overwhelmed.

Surrounded by horror as her foe took on the mantle of spectre, sucking down such foul powers, enraptured by it even as it twisted him into something utterly free of humanity. Power he had gained, yet Ubel would never walk the halls of Highrock again.

And the poor fool hadn’t even understood, until the hideous monster behind him claimed his due.

Even in her dreams, Jess hunched into a ball, loathing that sweet madness, the power that would have consumed her as well.

“Are you so sure, mistress?”

Jess flinched at the words.

“Are you so sure that power would have made you its puppet, like that foolish Aspirant who lost everything he ever was or could have hoped to be, as he surrendered to the darkness?”

“Yes, Twilight. That’s why I hesitated so. That’s what I feared.”

Jess forced herself to accept that ugly, horrible truth.

She could have fought faster, she could have fought harder.

She had not simply been waiting for the perfect moment to strike, waiting for Glist to commit himself to his taunting lunge, not realizing how off-balance that left him, with no shield to parry as he recovered, having no sense of just how well Jess had mastered the art of drawing and striking in one fluid motion, at far greater range than most fools realized.

Glist's lunge easily dodged, instinct forcing her to seize the moment at last.

But the ugly truth of it was, she could have seized the Vor and claimed the initiative at any time. She had waited for Glist to over-commit not out of calculation, but out of fear.

Fear to face the horror of Ubel. Fear to face his darkness.

To embrace hideous Shadow; hissing, burbling, laughing all around.

Horrified at the thought of opening wide her maw of shiny teeth, consuming the sweet treasures all around her, embracing that darkness and all its power.

Becoming that darkness, body and soul.

“So, you resisted. You sensed the mad chaos of the powers all about, and fear kept you uncertain, off kilter, afraid to embrace the terror. To feed upon it. Afraid of what it would do to you.”

Sapphire eyes blazed like twin suns in the depths of blackest space, fierce, crackling energies sucking her in, drowning her in solar storms more terrible than anything she could imagine, drowning in a sea of plasma and eldritch flame.

“Afraid of what you would become.”

“Yes!” Jess cried out, blinking in the darkness, trapped in hideous storms of fiery violet no longer, merely peering into the sapphire gaze of her familiar once more. “I feared that awful madness. I feared what it would do to me!” She sobbed. “I’ve read Alex’s accounts, I understand the tomes. Shadow, we skirted it, almost dipped into it. It was all I could do to skirt above it! Had I drunk from that awful power, had I dared Shadow in truth… it might have driven me mad. It might have destroyed me!”

Her familiar, fur shimmering with starry fire, nodded solemnly. “Or you could have embraced it, the dark stuff of living dream. Embraced it and claimed it, even as it changed you in turn.”

Jess shuddered, squeezing back tears as she nodded. “Even if I could survive boldly sinking into Shadow. Even if I could… oh gods, feed upon it, it would change me. I know it would!”

Twilight nodded. “Such is the price of power, my mistress. All things have a cost. For to sip of dream and wonder is to lose yourself to a heady sort of madness, forever drunk on reverie, living a life of dream and fable, forever appearing fey and strange to mundanes who understood your trials not at all.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, Twilight,” Jess sobbed.

“But the prize, Jess, is power over reality itself. At least in the realm of dreams. Shaping it even as it would shape you. Feasting upon those who would oppose your story, making your legend, the tales you forge all the stronger. And Jess? That strength would carry over into mundus as well.”

Jess shivered, desperately shaking her head. “I have trained so hard to embrace a tactician’s mind, Twilight. Forever alert, forever aware, balancing all sides to any tactical equation.” She chuckled softly. “For all that I flip numbers and letters around when I try to write them, for all that my head spins with the esoteric formulae our teachers dissect that make no sense to me, when I see depictions of the battlefield, it all becomes crystal clear. When I sense the undercurrents of intrigue, even in the palace proper, I can feel its ebb and flow. I know where I must stand to stop the killing thrust.”

Twilight nodded. “And the Crown owes you a debt, for all that you had to play a role that still fills you with shame.”

Jess cringed, even in her dream.

“Don’t be silly, mistress. However, they would mock, half the nobility would kill for a chance to savor the fruits you did.”

“Please, Twilight, let it go.”

Twilight nodded. “And you, Eloquin’s darkest dagger, always struck true. Yet no matter how bloody your grip, when you washed the dye from your hair, when the revels died down and all was as if it had never been, you put aside that bitter, ruthless mask, and became sweet Jess once more. Still able to laugh at your friend’s jokes, still able to wrap half the boys around your finger, thinking you a naive tomboy in need of their care, for all that you could become Eloquin’s deadliest assassin at the snap of his fingers.”

“Why are you telling me this, Twilight?” Jess sobbed. “Don’t you think I know the monster I really am?”

“No monster at all!” Twilight snapped, shocking Jess to stillness. “You kill when you have to, and don’t think that bastard Gruntig would have settled for anything less than ravishing you like he had his other victims, perhaps even trying to slice your throat when it finally dawned upon him, hungers slaked, that he had violated the daughter of a named lord.” Twilight sighed. “I know his death haunts you. I know that is one reason why you so feared losing control. But Gruntig was a monster, and none save his father will mourn his passing.”

Jess shuddered, even in her dream. “Twilight, please don’t tell me...”

Twilight frowned. “I will say nothing on that, then. And you are missing the point. You are a Squire of War, Jess, and no one can take that away, no matter what those browbeaten professors declare during your trial.”

Jess shuddered. “Oh gods, the trial.”

“Which you are sleeping through even now. But focus on the thrust, not the distraction. What is the cardinal rule of any Squire?”

“Seize any opportunity that presents itself, no matter how grim, how dire. Brotherhood and victory at all costs, the motto of a Squire of War.”

Twilight nodded. “And what is that storm of madness permeating Shadow that you so fear embracing, but a means to an end? Power to crush your enemies if you dare to consume it, and a hideous death only if your soul is too weak to endure its weight.”

Jess trembled. “Even if I’m strong enough not to be consumed by Shadow, or warped into some hideous living nightmare… still, madness is the price I pay.”

Twilight nodded. “The lucid madness of a poet lost in reverie or a perpetual drunkard, gazing at the world as if it were but living dream he could shape to his will. Yet whereas the drunkard or madman is but a delusion-wracked fool, you will be so much more."

“By Justice, you don’t actually mean for me to embrace that, do you, Twilight?”

Brilliant sapphire eyes fastened tightly upon her, no matter how she blinked or looked away. “Ultimately it is your choice, my queen. I, at least for the moment, see some of the cards in play. It is all about the sacrifice you are willing to make. How many loved ones you would let fall, for fear of embracing the terror of Shadow.”

Sapphire eyes grown to stars, vast and terrible once more.

Jess shrieked silently as she was helplessly drawn down, down, down, into that fiery madness.

“It is your heritage. Your birthright. Claim it, feast upon it, let loose the monster within. In the end, my queen, it is what you were always destined to be.”

Jess screamed, horrified by her familiar’s terrible words, struggling against them, fighting to block out the awful laughter she heard creeping along the corridors, coming for her.

Jess ran, lost in a fog of shadow and dream. But she could not escape the hideous cackling creeping closer, all around her, roaring into her.

The laughter, her own.

42

It is time to awaken, my mistress. Come, let us greet the dawn.”

With a jolt Jess awakened, heart racing, mind blank of all but sheer panic. Her hand grasped for a sword that was not there as she drew a shuddering breath, seeing nothing out of the ordinary amongst woolen rugs and tapestries of castles, unicorns, and pristine forests she had decorated her quarters with what now seemed a lifetime ago. Her hardwood table lay covered with its comforting array of tomes and wax tablets, a fortune in fine vellum and paper, the familiar pattern disturbed only by Alex's borrowed tomes, still flipped open to the last page read. Folded Highrock uniforms and other attire all but spilled out of her dressers.

Her eyes wandered at last to her trunk of armaments, girding herself for what she knew was to come. Squeezing back bitter tears, she turned to her familiar, gazing at her so solemnly from her tousled covers, ever comfortable lounging about her luxurious bed.

A solemn nod. “It is best we assume the worst, my mistress. We both know grimmest events preceded your surrender to nod.”

Jess took a deep, shuddering breath, nodding as a soldier would before gravest orders, never mind that she was queasy with dread.

Endless days of fighting fiercely by the side of all her brother and sister Squires, accruing glory and honor to accompany bitter tears and memories she would rather flee. Only to be brought down by one conniving proctor would had despised her on sight, and had never forgiven Eloquin for his response to the most fanatic of beatings Jess had received, so crushed with shame that she had thought it her due, not having locked eyes with the serpent who had so reveled in lashing her back bloody and raw. A savagery Hatsk had relished raining down upon Highrock's most vulnerable under any pretext, Jess only understanding far too late in the game. He was a monster who should never have been allowed in this school in the first place.

And he had won the board.

Jess gazed at her own trembling fists.

Knowing she would be expelled the minute she opened her door.

If she saw Hatsk’s mocking smile, she would strike him dead faster than he could blink, consequences be damned.

“Easy, my mistress,” Twilight soothed. “We will take care of our foe, one day. For now? Let us best prepare ourselves for what is to come.”

Jess nodded, quickly and methodically kitting up in gambeson and cuir bouilli, the rigid plates of rawhide mimicking ancient suits of steel armor near perfectly in design and function. For all that her chosen armaments were so thick as to actually be heavier than thinner steel plates, she had trained endlessly under their weight, forgoing the exquisite masterwork of steel that was her breastplate and helm for those rawhide equivalents, knowing the former items would be considered too precious to leave with an expelled student.

She looked in the mirror when she had finished, taking longer than it should doing it all herself, yet it all fit perfectly as it should, her movements free of hindrance, her steps flowing effortlessly when she donned saber and longsword, flowing from one movement to the next in dances ancient and deadly both.

Twilight gave a slow, approving nod. “Though it would be better still to face your cuir bouilli with breastplate and helm of bronze, your armaments will ward the bite of most weapons made of steel. Polearms and charging lances, the bane of any warrior not covered entirely by plate, will cause you no harm; wooden shafts forbidding steel tips from pricking your flesh, no matter how savagely your foes charge or swing."

Jess grinned. “Thank you, Twilight. But you and I both know that a greatsword that caught me flatfooted could cleave right through cuir bouilli. And Eloquin’s exotic sabers, or even the longswords we train with, in the hands of competent enough fighter, could still make a fatal cut. Besides, warriors in full plate haven't been seen since the cataclysm."

Twilight nodded. “And the few who come close? Their armor is invariably brittle, if not made by a master smith. And exceptions aside, we both know that few soldiers not trained as Squires will be able to pierce your armaments. Just don't embrace the folly of fighting midday, under a hot summer sun. When it is time for you to make your name within the world at large, you will find your skills worth their weight in gold.”

Jess forced a smile, wiping away a tear. “So this is it, then.”

Twilight nodded. “I suspect. But we are not leaving Highrock quite yet, are we, my mistress? For I note you forgo to wear your shirt of steel, having packed it away instead.”

Jess nodded. “More iron than steel, but yes. My mail hauberk is safely stored, though not so long ago, I thought I had a spare. In any case, I’m as well kitted as any soul can be...”

“Who would dare the Realm of Dreams.”

Jess trembled at those words. Gazing into her mirror, catching sight of a woman beautiful and fierce, haunted blue eyes gazing back at her as she nodded. “I have to do this. Don’t I?”

Twilight grinned. “But say the word, mistress, and we take our Hound and head off for glorious adventure, never looking back. Not even once.”

Jess chuckled softly at that. "I've heard worse plans. Alright, Twilight, I'm as ready as I can be. Do you think Rens remembers?”

“Inviting you to stand watch over his ceremony to ward this school when a certain rift manifests, perhaps to steel a peep inside while doing so? I do indeed. He made it quite clear, the gratitude he felt for the Squire that had sacrificed rank and prestige, ultimately expelled by her enemies, for the sake of his own students. I do recall seeing him argue quite vocally from the other side of our shared dream. Along with Eloquin, even as Hatsk and every professor who ever begrudged your failings as a student clamored for your expulsion, of which there were many, having no idea of the burdens you must endure.”

Jess shrugged. “For all that most Squires of War can handle it just fine.”

Twilight shrugged. “You are not most Squires. You are you. And if you had not warded them so well from spear and arrow, at least half of those who dared to ride under Eloquin's banner would most likely be dead by now.”

Jess smiled through unexpected tears. “And what a horrid student I was. All the letters switch around when I try to write them, and numbers in columns never stay the same. I couldn't even decipher what the professors were writing on the board, once my peers demanded I shut up and let them concentrate."

Twilight smiled. “Yet you can visualize maps perfectly, and you can read just fine, so long as you say the words aloud, for your ears understand every language ever uttered. You can calculate necessary provisions for thousands of troops in your head, sensing it like grains on a scale. And your ability to visualize a battlefield, to play out alternating strategies in your mind at such speed that only your father and Eloquin himself are your match, would make you a worthy general in any army.”

Twilight grinned. “I believe you have learned all you can here, under pedantic professors and brilliant general both. There is no shame in leaving, my queen. No shame at all.”

Jess nodded. “So be it. One last task in service to the school I love. Keeping Highrock safe from realms of nightmare, but a mad whisper away. And when Rens successfully pushes back this vision of the past, I’m off to explore the world.”

“And if a rift truly does manifest...”

Jess shivered. “Then we embrace the story. For once a rift to living dream opens, only an adventurer who dares to embrace the tale can close it. And this close to the school, sacred as it is...”

Twilight nodded. “We can dare no mad nightmares infecting this sacred bastion of dream.”

Jess frowned at that.

Twilight’s gaze turned deadly serious. “I know the madness of Shadow terrified you, the last time you felt its chill embrace.”

Jess grimaced, hands clenched tight, heart racing for more than fear of imminent expulsion. “I know. Even though I remember nothing, save being beaten by Hatsk as I emerged from something awful. I know terror had filled my soul.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “So many tales of Delving evoke images of magic and wonder, rejoicing within never-ending dream. But I don't think they tell the whole story, not a bit."

Twilight raised a thoughtful brow. “Are you truly ready, Jess? To enter Shadow once more and embrace the living madness that is both the source of its power and your fear?”

Jess swallowed at those words. “You know why I fear it. You know what happens when I lose control.”

Twilight nodded. “I do.”

Jess closed her eyes. “I will do whatever I must, to see this through.”

Twilight turned to the suddenly knocking door. Jess shivered, frozen, her resolve of moments before melting into dread, knowing what was to come.

“Come, my queen. It is time.”

Girding herself, Jess touched the magnificent oak carved into the heart of her door, easing her door open wide to reveal the grim countenance of none other than General Eloquin himself.

Icy blue eyes took her measure, and for all that Jess quailed in her heart, he gave at last the tiniest of nods.

“You understand without a word being said. You lose yourself not to despair, but gird yourself as is your right, as you must, ready even now for the test to come.”

Jess blinked at this.

Granite features eased into an almost fatherly smile. “Do you think me so foolish as to not understand what it means when the only steel you wear are your blades?”

“So. It’s really happening,” Jess whispered.

Eloquin nodded, walking beside her down the corridor, holding the gaze of any of the scores of students looking their way, not a one daring other than to abruptly turn and depart.

Jess felt her heart lurch with each pitying gaze.

Everyone knew, then.

Yet Eloquin’s hand held firm upon her shoulder, and not a single heckle or jeer could be heard, her mentor standing strong by her side to the bitter end.

Jess smiled through her tears.

“Yes, Jess. You have been expelled. You and Malek both.”

Her steps lurched.

Eloquin sighed. “He really is a fool, you know. When he heard your sentence, he made it clear he would accept nothing less. The boy you rescued declared you both his hero, which not even Hatsk could deny the healers dutifully recording, for all that no one seems to remember the events that led to you three appearing in the hallway, covered in bruises and blood as the proctors began to strike you both mercilessly, sparing only the child. And Malek is noble born, and my Squire.

“Had he remained silent, he would have been remanded to my sentence, and a Squire remain. But because you had been wearing a penitent’s robes… the mandate was clear.”

Jess squeezed her eyes momentarily shut. “Bloody hells.”

Eloquin chuckled softly. “And you pair among my favorite daggers. Fear not, Jessica. The game is not quite over, for all that our foe works to clear the board in his favor.” His eyes hardened. “You are a fool, though. You and Malek both.”

Jess swallowed. “I know, sir.”

“Still, ten aspiring wizards and one confused boy saved from vile sacrifice, and don’t think I fail to understand what it means.”

Jess was chilled with his soft words, cutting her to the quick, for all that she alone could hear him.

“Sir?”

“We are under attack.”

Jess tightly clenched the hilt of her still sheathed saber.

A subtle shake of his head.

“No, Jess. Neal and I shall handle things here. You have another mission, equally important.”

Jess swallowed, gazing up into eyes so fierce, so bold.

Her heart breaking, as it always did, gazing at the man she would die for.

“Anything.”

They stopped, the corridor clear.

Jess trembled as his hand softly stroked strands of hair slipped free from her helm.

“If I could take back all that you had to endure, fighting for our cause... I would.”

Jess felt her heart skip a beat. “I am your Squire, sir. My body is nothing. Our foes are dead.”

He slowly shook his head. “Don’t sell yourself short, Jess. And don’t think me such a fool that I cannot guess a woman’s burden. The man who would judge you is unworthy of you.”

Jess swallowed. “If any prospect knew...”

“Tell them nothing.” Eloquin flashed a bleak smile. “You are forbidden to speak of your missions in any case, Calenbry, so you keep faith with me by keeping faith with yourself.”

Jess jerked a nod.

“You helped save the Crown. Take that truth to your grave, and trouble yourself not a second longer. Now it is time for you to focus on the mission at hand.”

Jess blinked at that, as they approached the end of the corridor, a staircase leading down to a discrete exit just ahead.

“Sir?”

Eloquin’s gaze left Jess trembling. “Are you truly ready, Jess?”

“For what, sir?”

He frowned. “You know how determined Rens is to open this portal into the Shadowrealms, so certain it will lead to ancient treasures and forgotten lore, trapped in some damned mystical keep lost to time. If that fool actually manages to open a rift, I need Squires standing ready who know what it means to embrace the strange.”

Jess abruptly halted, jerking against Eloquin, gazing back with curious eyes.

“Sir.” So much she wanted to say, ears filled with the roaring of her heart.

Stilled as she fell into Eloquin’s terrible gaze.

“Do you really think I don’t know what you, Malek, and your lover were up to at Hyve’s manor? A dozen confused souls saved who remember nothing? Sable Plaga, eyes knowing far more than they should, vanishing days later with daughter and my newest recruit, love-struck idealist that Liam is?” He slowly shook his head. “Don’t think me a fool, Calenbry. Never that.”

Jess stepped back, suddenly dizzy, Twilight chuckling softly from his favorite perch. “So, he knew all along, then. I do so enjoy this man. Never the fool, though he holds his cards close.”

A tight grin Eloquin couldn’t quite hide. “Are they safe?”

Jess nodded. “And no one will ever know to where they fled.”

“Good.” Eloquin sighed. “You have the gift, Calenbry, though it remains to be seen whether it is but the tiniest flicker, allowing you to push tendrils of Shadow away long enough to survive that which would devour the souls of most men, or if you are capable of more.”

“Sir...” Her mouth was bone dry.

Eloquin slowly shook his head. “If this rift opens, Jessica, it will be to no realm of reverie. You will not be skittering by wisps of insanity, feet firmly planted upon solid mundus still. Should you dare this mission, you will plunge directly into madness. Living nightmare.”

Jess jerked a nod. “I will not fail you. What would you have me do?”

“I need you to guard Rens and his students while they open the rift. I need you to be ready, in case things do not go as planned. Not a single Delver has answered our call, for all that we have twice sent invitations to the local Guildhall.”

Jess swallowed, forcing herself to speak. “Sir, something is wrong.”

Eloquin chuckled softly. “Many things are wrong, Calenbry. What exactly are you speaking of?”

“Master Enchanter Rens, sir. When last I spoke with him, yes, he wanted a peek at what secrets this rift held. But he was adamant, sir. Adamant that it must remain sealed off. Adamant that it was a threat.”

Eloquin frowned. “That sounds more like the Rens I know, yet I cannot remember a time when he was not hungry to explore its depths.”

Jess nodded, heart in her throat, daring to look Eloquin's way, to make one final request.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Calenbry?"

Jess swallowed. "Before I go, if I may, I'd like to say goodbye."

She froze as icy blue eyes locked upon her own. An endless heartbeat of time. He gave an infinitesimal nod.

"You are one of the very few who even could. Very well, Jess. I will grant you this boon. But you must be quick."

Trembling, Jess nodded, their pace not changing at all, though when they reached the stairwell their steps climbed upwards, and after endless moments of ever more curious stares, Jess found herself before the door that would lead to the rooftop garden, and suddenly no one was paying them any mind at all.

Jess swallowed, gazing at Eloquin. "I will stay here. Be quick, but by all means, say your farewells."

Jess bowed her head, determined never to shame her master again.

43

Jess took a deep breath as she opened the exquisitely worked oak door depicted in such pristine detail that every leaf upon the tree carved into its surface was a work of art. Within moments she had made her way up to the stairs to the final barrier, that door opening with the gentlest touch of her fingertips, as if welcoming her home.

Jess sighed in happy satisfaction as she gazed upon the endless profusion of flowers blooming in all their glory; roses, marigolds, and tulips just a few of the varieties swaying in the breeze. Of most interest to the college, of course, were the plants Jess had carefully tended between those beautiful blossoms, plants that many a healer swore were among the most potent medicinal herbs and culinary spices to be found anywhere in all of Erovering. Yet no matter how exotic or finicky the vegetation, all were thriving in rich fecundity, every green leaf seeming almost to quiver with Jess’s gentle touch.

Absently, Jess allowed her fingertips to caress any number of exquisitely blossoming flowerbeds as she approached Louise and her mother, both gazing at her so intently, almost as if they had been expecting her. The air was alive with the rich scents of peppermint, basil, blue lobelia, and a dozen other scents evocative of the grandest of gardens.

“Jess, you came!” Louise cried cheerfully, rushing to Jess's side, tiny arms hugging armored legs with fierce affection.

Jess laughed and gently picked her up, feeling her heart lighten with Louise's exuberant grin. Quick as a hummingbird, the young girl pecked a gentle kiss on a surprised Jess's cheek.

“What was that for, silly little thing?”

Louise hid her head against Jess’s chest, as if suddenly shy. “That’s for not forgetting about my birthday, even though that awful proctor was so mean to you.”

Jess’s bemused laughter earned her a heartfelt smile from Lady Vaila, approaching them both at a more sedate pace. “Silly little Louise,” Jess gently chided. “Of course I would not forget your birthday. It is a special day for you and our sacred tree both.”

Louise gazed up from Jess's arms, mischievous grin back in place, and Jess was reminded once more of what a beauty she would be when she grew up. Jess blinked, surprised at how protective she felt for the precious child in her arms.

“So, is Twilight going to wish me a happy birthday?” Louise grinned, and Jess felt her heart skip a beat as the young girl looked right where Twilight was perched, presently peering at them all with the bemused aloofness common to all cats.

Jess smiled, gazing affectionately at her familiar. “Well, Twilight?”

Her familiar lifted one eyebrow, tilting his head to gaze at Jess. “Really, Jess. All this trouble to make our way to the rooftop garden while friends and enemies alike await word of our final exit below.” He grinned. “Of course I’m going to wish the child a happy birthday.”

Gently, he placed one paw upon Louise's brow, her soft brown eyes blinking wildly as she gasped. "Be good, child. Don't cause your mother too much trouble." He turned to Jess once more. "There. You see? Birthday blessings are all in good order. Now let's pay our solemn respects to the source of all fishies, and not let its bounty go to waste."

Jess, however, gazed at little Louise in awe. "Louise, did you feel his touch?" She suddenly felt a bit dizzy, her ears roaring with the sound of her own heartbeat as she gently put the child down, speechless, as she realized at last how her little helper was gazing right at Twilight, had in fact always known just where to look whenever Jess would tease her about her invisible familiar. "Louise, can you see Twilight?"

"Nonsense, Jess. No mortal has been able to see me in centuries," Twilight scoffed, even as Lady Vaila opened her arms to her suddenly shy daughter, gently stroking Louise's hair even as she peered up at Jess.

Louise shook her head in furious negation, hiding in her mother's embrace. Lady Vaila's gaze was one of gentle concern, lips pressed together in a line of worry before turning to her daughter.

“Love, can you see Jess’s pretty kitty? Mother would dearly love to know if you could.”

Louise seemed all the more distressed by her mother's gentle query, shaking her head furiously. "I don't want Twilight to be mad at me. Once Jess goes away, she won't be able to visit us anymore. I want Twilight to like me before it's too late."

Jess squatted to be close to eye level with Louise, smiling warmly as she gently stroked the child’s beautiful mane of ebony hair. “It’s all right, Louise. Twilight wouldn’t mind either way. Isn't that right, Twilight?”

“Impossible,” he grumbled, kneading Jess’s shoulder in his discontent. “I don’t see how such could be.”

Jess felt a cold shiver down her spine as she noted how Louise seemed to flinch at her familiar's words. "It doesn't matter either way. The important thing is that Louise is our friend, and we are here to celebrate her birthday and pay our respects to the guardian of our little garden. Is this not so?"

Gently catching Lady Vaila’s gaze and getting the slightest nod, Jess slid her powerful palm into Louise’s waif thin hand, gently leading her through the lush garden, walking at a sedate, comfortable pace sufficient for Louise’s small legs to keep up.

“Where are we going, Jess?” Louise curiously asked.

Jess gave her hand a soft pat. "I'm going to show you your birthday gift."

Immediately Louise's gloom perked up into inquisitive happiness. "Oh, wonderful! What did you get me, Jess?"

Jess merely grinned and shook her head, humming with contentment, glad to make Louise smile again.

Louise grimaced. “Please don’t try to sing, Jess. It’s not good for my ears.”

Twilight snickered, and Jess stuck her tongue out at him. “My humming is just fine, Twilight. Louise just has sensitive ears. From listening to jaded cats too often. Right, Louise?”

Louise laughed. "Actually, I like Twilight's voice. It's very melodious and professorial."

Twilight looked smug. Then blinked. “Bloody hells.”

Jess laughed. “He does like to lecture a lot.”

Twilight pouted. “This is all highly irregular.”

And then Jess smiled proudly, showing Louise the prize within her own corner of the garden.

Louise gazed in awe at the tiny apple tree happily growing in its carefully constructed crevice, filled with lush soil and a steady trickle of water that kept the loam at the perfect degree of dampness. Gently, Jess plucked one of the apples off the tiny tree, solemnly presenting it to Louise, who gripped the Calenbry Gold in trembling hands, gazing upon it in awe. "Jess, it's one of your family’s apple trees! But it’s so small.”

Jess smiled and nodded. "It's a cutting from my favorite tree back home, and the small crevice I carved out of the rock for it assures it will always be a dainty little thing." Jess gently stroked the rich earth at the base of the tiny tree's roots. "But the soil is lush, and with proper care, it will always bud forth the sweetest apples you ever did taste."

Louise bit into the perfectly ripe apple, her eyes gazing wide as she savored what Jess knew was a wonderful complexity of sweet and tart notes trickling down her throat, happily devouring her mouthful before passing the juicy apple for Jess to share. Jess took a crisp bite herself, and gave a contented nod. The apple was perfect, as she knew it would be. She then passed the apple to a stunned looking Lady Vaila.

“Saints above, this is delicious, Jessica.” She continued to gaze upon the little tree with an odd mixture of wonder and disbelief.

Louise nodded happily at her mother. “Isn’t it wonderful? Jess gave me an apple tree!”

Jess hugged Louise close. “I did indeed, dear one. It is yours, now. Care for it well.”

“But Jess, it is in full bloom, with perfectly ripened apples, completely out of season. How is this even possible? How can it even generate this number of apples? And why have I never noticed this little wonder before?” Lady Vaila shook her head, as if unable to accept the evidence before her eyes.

Jess grinned. “It was a surprise for Louise.” As if that was all that needed to be said.

Louise nodded happily. “Isn’t it the best present, Mother? Now I can have apples whenever I want!”

Lady Vaila gave a helpless little laugh before impulsively hugging her favorite student. “It is a wonderful gift, dearest Jessica. My daughter and I both thank you, from the bottom of our hearts.”

Her gentle regard left Jess speechless, the concerned gaze of a mother as she brushed Jess's cheeks. "I cannot tell you how furious I am at the injustice being carried out, how much I detest the vile proctor involved." She sighed. "And still, for all that, I could do nothing to sway the minds of bitter professors whose pride matters far more to them than the well-being of dozens of souls who would otherwise succumb to illness, without your tinctures. All it took was one corrupt man to give impetus and direction to their bitterly nurtured grievances."

Lady Vaila bent down, gently kissing her daughter on the forehead. “Not for all the gold in Erovering will I let any of those spiteful instructors harm your precious gift, nor any of the myriad plants blossoming so fruitfully, thanks to our dear Jessica's love and care."

Jess nodded. "Besides, we all know that only very special people tend to find their way into our garden. Anyone with malice in their heart, even a trace? Will just find it too much of a bother to climb up here."

Louise grinned. "Only really nice people can come up here. And Father. He's not really nice, but the tree doesn't seem to mind. Are we going to pay our respects now?"

Lady Vaila’s smile was filled with maternal pride. “Indeed we are, dear one. And I know that you know the ceremony by heart, yes?”

Louise hummed happily even as she held both her mother and Jess’s fingers in her tiny little fists, leading them to the very back of the garden, where it became one with the rocky face of the mountain their college had been carved from. For there grew an exquisite shoot of a tree both wondrous and primal, and Jess could never recall exactly what breed of tree she gazed upon, remembering only that the exquisite tree seemed vibrant and real, even as the rest of the world twisted into dream and shadow.

Twilight was always ready to poke her out of her reverie, should she lose herself in contemplating its leaves and branches for too long, and she would always laugh off the odd melancholy she felt upon gazing at its pristine form. It was a bittersweet melancholy she felt so keenly even at that very moment, tears freely flowing from her eyes despite her smile, gazing at little Louise solemnly performing their ancient ceremony.

It was a ceremony Jess had witnessed seemingly by chance that first year, Lady Vaila staring at Jess with naked surprise when she had first caught sight of the solemn rite being performed. It had been a curious yearning in her heart that had woken her up out of a sound sleep that night, leading her to the garden with tears streaming down her eyes, her heart pierced with a tender poignancy that had shaken her profoundly, even as she witnessed Lady Vaila in the middle of her ritual, little Louise sleeping gently in her crib nearby.

Jess had understood at once that the rite was symbolic of something profoundly precious, that went far deeper than simple herbalistic tradition here at the school.

“Bless us, shoot of the Great Tree. May the fruit of our efforts always ripen to perfect sweetness under your tender care.”

Lady Vaila hugged her daughter affectionately as Louise bowed a final time and stepped back from the tree, the ceremony complete at last.

Almost tentatively, Louise's warm palm squirreled into Jess’s own. “What did you think, Jess? Did I do okay? Does the tree like me?”

Jess's approving nod eased all worry away. "Of course, dear Louise. How could the tree not love you?" Gently, she kissed Louis's cheek. "I have to go now, Louise, but please know that spending time with you and your mother in our wonderful little garden were some of my happiest memories of Highrock."

Louise locked her arms about Jess in a final, fierce hug. "I'm going to miss you, Jessie. I hope you can come back some day."

Jess squeezed back tears. "I hope so too, little one."

Lady Vaila solemnly kissed Jess's cheeks. "Be safe and fruitful in all your endeavors, Jess of the Garden."

Jess grinned through her tears. "You too, professor and friend. It was so good to know you both."

And before another word could be said, Jess dashed for the stairs, by Eloquin's side before Louise would be forced to hear her sobs.

Eloquin's grip upon her shoulder was like steel. Yet it imparted a fierce sense of strength. Comradeship, and purpose. Jess stiffened her spine, gazing at all the world through the glittering eyes of a queen, refusing to lower her head for anyone.

"You did well to remember." Eloquin's quiet words.

Jess swallowed, knowing exactly what he meant. "Even if Malek and I had planned just to head for the hills, wild and free as birds, still I would have said goodbye."

His eyes narrowed. “More than ever, I need you and Malek to stand ready.”

Jess shivered, forcing herself to nod. “We will not let you down again, sir.”

Eloquin nodded as he opened the discrete exit, Jess blinking in sudden sunlight, amazed to behold no less than sixty of her fellows, Squires of War in full regalia, breastplates shimmering in the sun.

“Squires, salute our sister. Her time has come!’

As one, sixty swords were unsheathed, a tunnel of steel before her. Trembling as she caught so many gazes, warm smiles where she had feared censure and rejection. Jess felt her heart lighten, awful regret turning bittersweet, thanks to the salutes and nods of those she had fought beside for so very long.

“We will miss you, Jess,” Erica, gazing so warmly at her battlesister. Jess smiled in turn, heart swelling with poignant love for the most petite member of their band who held her blade without a single quiver.

“They are fools to let you go, even if you can’t study worth a damn,” Lucas teased with a smile, nodding as Jess passed him.

“We fought as one, Jess. None of us lost, near a dozen souls saved. Don’t forget that.” Neal's soft words. Gentle eyes locking with her own. A Squire capable of utter ruthlessness, yet ever filled with solemn understanding for those he loved.

“It was an honor fighting under you, Neal,” Jess said, passing under the final sword held aloft, slipping free of the tunnel to see none other than a smiling Dean Echobart, cherubic features lit into a grin.

Larger than life, his bulk was as much muscle as padding, one of the few able to do justice to the robes of office that he wore. Jess had long thought there was far more to him than affable head of their school with a knack for making prospective students and wealthy patrons feel welcome.

And here he was, gazing at her just like she first remembered, a warm nod as she trembled, forcing herself to boldly approach, fearing a look of such sorrow, such reprimand, but only the gentlest of smiles did he give, a pin of silver in his hand.

Jess swallowed, speechless, as the dean solemnly pinned it to her tabard, even as the audience of Squires let loose a cheer.

The dean winked. "It has been something of an adventure, your time at Highrock, has it not?"

Jess blushed and smiled. "It has indeed, sir. It has indeed."

He nodded. "You have served our school, and our nation, long and well. Don't think we have forgotten, or that we don't give credit where it is due." He then solemnly handed her a scroll of velum.

Jess blinked back tears. "I hardly read a single textbook, sir."

Echobart chuckled softly. "And yet still you have earned a scholar's rank in tactics, battlelore, and herb craft. Well done, Calenbry."

His grip gently held her own. "For all that it is time for you to part, you do so with honor. A graduate of Highrock, with letters honoring your strengths."

Jess smiled through her tears. "Thank you, Dean Echobart. This really means a lot to me."

His chuckle was sympathetic, gaze filled with warmth. "You will do well, Calenbry, fear not. Diplomatic kerfuffles aside, you have saved lives, and made allies aplenty. I have no doubt that given time, you will accomplish great things."

He gazed off at the distant fields reserved for Squires alone. "Though graduates in your position find Highrock a... singular experience, you are more than welcome to accommodate yourself in the Squire's field for as long as you like."

Jess swallowed, nodding. "Thank you, sir."

He clapped her shoulder. "Excellent. I shall have food and drink sent your way by a student I trust. Be well, Calenbry. Do keep in touch by letter or messenger, I do like to know how all my students are doing. And of course, Master Enchanter Rens wanted to make sure you stayed around at least long enough to witness his upcoming ritual. The man actually thinks he can catch a glimpse of living dream. Imagine that."

With a farewell smile, he left a speechless Jess and made his way back into the keep, sixty Squires, blades resheathed, bowing before him, all of them then turning as one and bowing to Jess a final time before immediately disbursing, heading to the training grounds, flowing away as if they hadn't just said goodbye to one of their own.

In that moment Jess felt keenest envy to be among their number once more, with no more cares than surviving another day at the school she loved.

Jess turned to Eloquin, feeling the weight of her entire future pressing upon her, just knowing that her mother would be there to pick her up and take her home within days of getting word of her leaving school.

"Come, Jess," he said, clasping her shoulder. "Let's get you situated, then I have my students to see to, and you and Malek had best prepare."

44

Jess sobbed as she held Malek close, Eloquin saying not a word as he walked away from the shelter that would serve as their home, for however long they chose to say.

"Bloody fool," Jess scolded, "I didn't want your life ruined too."

Malek just smiled, squeezing her tighter. "There was no way in hell I was letting them get away with doing that to you, after all you have done for Eloquin, for this school." He sighed. "If Eloquin hadn't lost his temper, assigning you that penitent robe; if Alex and his friends hadn't been so stupid as to follow mad whim, collapsing exposed and vulnerable, easy prey for enemies who so easily discovered what was to be their clandestine mission; if Hatsk wasn't a spiteful sadistic monster, so vicious he would whip and expel a drugged victim just for the savage pleasure of it... If any of those twists of fate had not occurred, we would not be in this pickle."

Malek sighed and shook his head. "But they had. Too many cards stacked against us, led by that bastard who felt nothing but spite and hunger to see you fall. And how convenient that no trace of that woman he had flogged can be found, here on the road or at town, just hours away. Hours that would have been a torturous eternity, death so easy in such a state, and that monster should burn for what he did. But with no proof, not a shred of evidence..."

Jess glowered. "I should have known, when I found her in the baths."

Malek frowned. "What exactly happened in the baths? That part I know you told me, but I can't quite remember.

Jess opened her mouth, then was deathly still, an icy shiver running down her spine.

"I don't know," she whispered at last. "I had thought, but, I know I had met Sable and Mord down there. Sable was out of sorts. I think Mord and I helped her somehow, a rare truce between the two of us, since we both care for his sister. Then we escorted Sable back to the healers to be by Liam's side."

Jess shrugged. "There must have been a reason for us to leave the poor drugged woman, but for the life of me, I can't remember what it was. At the time we thought her drunk ourselves. Only later did we understand that poison was in play, the same as with Alex and his friends."

Malek nodded. "That is serious. It implies the same vipers that drugged the poor woman have ties to Velheim. But who were they?"

Jess grimaced and shrugged. "I wish I knew, Malek, but if I ever knew, I recall it no better than any of a thousand dreams I've had."

Malek nodded. "If only we could find some evidence of his foul play."

Jess nodded. "The blade Duggin tried to kill me with. Of course Hatsk conveniently left that out of his declarations of wrongdoing on my part."

Malek grinned. "Then we only need to find this blade, no doubt like a score of others, and what a fool's errand that would be. No doubt Hatsk or Duggin have hidden it well already."

Jess chuckled bitterly. "No doubt." She fondly stroked her brother's cheeks, admiring his forethought, equipped near exactly the same as she was.

"Malek, I will never be able to thank you enough, just for caring enough to watch over me, when it would have been so easy too..."

Malek scowled. "What, forsake my battlesister who had fought so furiously to save my sorry hide on more than one occasion? A girl whose back I've guarded all these endless months? Don't insult me, Jessica de Calenbry. You mean far too much for me to trade you off like some piece on a board. Now let's make use of the training blades Eloquin was thoughtful enough to leave for us as well as our camping gear. The weather's perfect, not a cloud in the sky. I think Eloquin means for us to be ready. Let's not disappoint him, whatever the future may hold.

Jess nodded, saluting her brother-in-arms with her waster, refusing to let his sacrifice be for nothing. Malek wanted to stay every bit as much as she did, in case a porthole really did open to realms of dream and wonder. Whereas Jess felt mounting dread, her shieldbrother brimmed with excitement, and the hours passed with the clang of steel, the grunt of trained warriors grappling and rolling, the animated chatter of old friends conversing upon a thousand different topics even as they said not a word about the obstacles before them.

Jess felt it every time the picked up their wasters as the days slowly passed, bitter regrets washing away as she accepted that there was only this task, this moment, and how she reveled crossing blades with her dearest friend, the furious frenzy of steel against steel, each striving to seize the Vor, each surprising the other with feints and strikes from oddest angles, striving to be worthy of the weapons they wielded.

Both turned, blinking and heaving, a hard-fought bout just ended, Jess successfully hip-tossed before being lifted up by his powerful arms, gazing at a grinning Neal, laying a sack down by their feet.

"I swear, never have I seen your blades move so fast. And I know you both swung with power to match." Neal smiled. "It's a pleasure to watch you two spar."

Malek grinned. "What's in the bag, Neal?"

Neal shrugged. "How should I know? It was here when I arrived." They all grinned at that. "How are you two getting along?"

"Well enough." Jess swallowed. "Dear Abe stops by every night, sometimes in the morning as well, dropping off food much welcome after a hard day's sparring, for what else do we have to do, save gaze at the field all day, as pretty as it is?" She sighed. "I could focus on nurturing the grass til it was as thick and bountiful as fields blowing in lands endless miles south of here, but I doubt our master would appreciate my efforts."

Jess blinked and swallowed, holding back sudden tears. "Your master, I mean."

Neal smiled, pretending he hadn't heard her gaff.

"I hope these armaments that I know absolutely nothing about fit you both. Be well, Jess and Malek. Here, or in the world at large, we will meet again and share many a drink and tall tale, I'm sure."

With a final wave he was off, the field quiet once more.

Malek clapped Jess's shoulder. "Come, sister, let's see what gifts Neal most definitely did not bring us, should anyone ask."

And much to their surprise and wonder, they pulled out matching pairs of bronze breastplates, greaves, and barbute helms with full cheek and nose guards. Jess was pleased to see that the ancient looking helms were well padded, with freshly drilled holes to allow for excellent hearing.

Malek gave an approving nod. "We might give it a few dents, but let's strap these on and see how well we fight with them.

Fully kitted up within moments, they voided, parried, and struck at full fighting speed, despite limbs already trembling with fatigue, finding they could lunge forward and twist away with little extra effort, trained as they were. For all that bronze atop rawhide was hot and heavy, as Squires they had trained to endure such burdens and more. Fortunately their hearing was unimpaired and their peripheral vision almost perfect with the tiny modifications that had been made to those ancient helms.

"'Tis a good thing we train at dawn and dusk, or I'd fear cooking like a kettle on a stove," Malek joked, Jess nodding her agreement before turning to the familiar sight of Abe weaving through the field as if he were a heartbeat away from falling, yet managing to stay upright, sacks full of ale and meat pies ever on hand.

His cherubic grin widened as he caught sight of Jess, bright red hair blowing in the evening breeze, lifting one hand in greeting as he approached, then promptly toppling over.

Jess and Malek winced. "There goes our dinner." He sighed.

Jess nodded. "Mashed meat pies tonight."

"Same as every night."

The pair chuckled, helping to right a flustered Abe, gazing so sadly at his sacks. "Oh bother. I fear I squished them something awful." His freckled features looked so crestfallen as he stared up at Jess that she couldn't help but forgive him with a hug.

"It's all right, Abe. These things happen. And thank you, as always, for bringing our fare."

"Oh, I'm so happy to!" He declared, crestfallen gaze turning instantly to a smile once more. "They are especially delicious! Cook always has a look in her eyes when I mention you, and, well, she always saves the very best of everything for you two. And I don't blame her a bit! After all, everyone knows that Head Proctor Hatsk is a right royal jackass." He flushed at those words. "You're the smartest, most beautiful and friendly student in the whole school, Jess. All those rumors about Hatsk being a savage butcher who killed his own assistant and buried his body along with poor Sella have to be true."

Jess exchanged a grin with Malek. It seemed her fellow Squires were engaging in good old fashioned character assassination. Before Jess flinched, suddenly recalling that Gruntig's death was no one's fault but her own.

"He doesn't sound well-loved," Malek said.

Abe nodded enthusiastically. "Everyone hates him. Or at least, some people do. To be honest I just run when I see him, so he's never bothered me."

"An understandable strategy," Jess deadpanned. "But you don't want to give him reason to chase you, so best just to avoid his eye and walk past with other students beside you. Then he has no cause to look your way."

Abe grinned. "That's a wonderful idea. So, what are you two doing? Anything I can help with? Oh, I see you are both wearing bronze, and it looks so beautiful on you, catching the sun like fire! Even if our professors say it is no match for steel."

"It isn't," Malek acknowledged. "But then again, nothing is, and few can afford anything better than a cuir bouilli breastplate and a simple iron helmet, not proper steel at all, and that bronze is superior to. In fact, properly forged and hardened bronze is actually a hell of a lot tougher than people give it credit for. Only against steel armor does it fail. Yet almost no one wears steel plates, few can even afford mail hauberks. A sharpened bronze blade can be just as sharp as steel, able to cut through flesh just as readily, though it will need resharpening frequently. The advantage of steel weaponry is that we can forge longer blades with better edges, and the blades are much less likely to warp or bend in combat. They can bite into bronze armor, but it is far more likely just to leave ugly dents than actually pierce a properly hardened bronze breastplate."

Malek patted Abe's shoulder, relieving him of ale flasks and pie. "Best to read the treatises or speak to martial instructors. The real reason why you see bronze so rarely even after the cataclysm, when all but masterwork steel armaments turned brittle, is cost, Abe. Bronze armor is expensive. Cuir bouilli and quilted linen gambesons are almost as tough, and comparatively cheap."

Abe nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you for explaining it to me, Malek. All I recall about metallurgy is that only steel blades with edges are easy to make, the natural ether tempering the blades with sufficient magic that the metal matrix doesn't turn brittle."

Jess smiled. "Steel swords are not easy to make, Abe. The stabilizing edges just means it's not much harder to forge than it was before the cataclysm. Armor is entirely different. The fine helms and steel breastplates that Squires wear cost a fortune because they have no edges for arcane energies to percolate and help temper the steel, so they do take a master smith to forge without turning brittle, and the armor still fails the final tests as often as not. I suspect bronze breastplates and helms would be seen all over the battlefield, as it is actually stronger than iron given no more temper than being baked in ash, if it wasn't so difficult to get a hold of the tin needed to make bronze."

Abe grinned. "I knew you were a scholar, Jess. They were so wrong to throw you out, no matter what that jackanapes of a proctor said."

As soon as he said the words he flushed. "I'm sorry, Jess, I didn't mean to say that. It's just, you distract me." Embarrassed cheeks grew bright red as he bowed his head.

Jess chuckled softly. "It's all right, Abe. Don't tell anyone, most especially not that serpent of a proctor, but we actually graduated with full honors." She swallowed. "It's just that, well, we're not allowed in the school any more. But as far as the world at large is concerned, we left under amicable circumstances."

Malek nodded, gaze cynical. "As they'd be fools to insult nobility and expect largess in turn, if lords have to worry about their sons actually being at risk of shame and censure, should they do nothing but carouse all their days, as so many city lords do. Even if Jess and I have to leave, even if we are denied written letters of recommendation to vaunted posts and other sought-after positions, the true goal of so many students, no one of noble birth is forced to leave Highrock in shame unless he committed a high crime, no matter what that bastard of a proctor wants."

Jess grinned. "And Rens made it clear that we wouldn't be denied those letters either, if he had anything to say about it."

Abe nodded, brightening once more. "Oh, guess what? The ceremony is happening tomorrow! I'm glad you decided to stay, Jess. You can watch me be a part of it, if you want. The ceremony, I mean."

He sighed, gently squeezing a surprised Jess's hand. "If they needed a Druid, I'd tell Master Rens we had to include you, because you would be fantastic! Everyone knows how good you are at growing things. The healers already miss your absence, but Hatsk just smirks at them and calls them pathetic excuses for healers when they grumble about you being forced to leave. But guess what? One of the healers is actually going to be helping with the ceremony! Rens thinks healing magic must be the missing link that would allow us to better access the Dreamrealms, and the tome we've uncovered gave us clues on how to use a healer to unlock the seal between worlds."

Jess frowned. "What are you talking about, Abe?"

Abe blinked. "The tome that is showing us how to breach the barrier between our worlds, so all the lost secrets can be ours!"

Jess swallowed. "But Abe, I thought... wasn't Rens worried about the barrier being breached? I thought he just wanted to peer inside living dream. If anything, he wanted to close off the Shadowrealms to protect Highrock."

Abe blinked. "But how can we gain its secrets if we push it away? If we bring it forth, if we had adventurers who could safely plumb its depths, one can only wonder at the treasure to be found!" Abe sighed. "Oh well, at least our ceremony will let us examine everything in detail, like a hawk flying from above. It's fascinating to wonder what's inside!"

Abe darted forward so fast Jess had to fight the urge to knock him back, Abe squeezing an armored Jess as tight as he could.

"I'm so, so sorry, Jess. Highrock isn't the same without you."

Jess smiled. "Thank you, Abe. That means a lot."

Abe whispered something, still hugging her close.

"I'm sorry, Abe?"

He stepped back, head lowered. "When you go back home..."

Her heart lurched at those words.

"Can I, um, visit you?"

Jess blinked. "Visit me?"

Abe's grin beamed like the sun. "Yes! I would so love to, you know. You are my best friend here at Highrock and you like to talk to me and no one else does and, well, I'll miss you when you go, so take care and think about it, okay? Bye bye!"

Abe turned tail and fled back to the keep as fast as his legs could take him, bright red curls billowing in the wind.

Malek chuckled softly. "It looks like you've found at least one admirer who cares nothing for your standing at this school."

Jess flushed. "He's like an adorable stuffed toy bear. Or perhaps a puppy." She couldn't help grinning. "Still, I get the feeling that I could tell him anything about my past, and he wouldn't bat an eye."

Malek chuckled. "If it meant a chance of courting you? You could tell him you were a queen of Hell, and he'd only be worried that some handsome diabolist might steal you away."

Jess winced. "I'm not that bad."

Malek held her close, removing her helmet, kissing her forehead. "You're not bad at all. Come, sister. A dinner of meat pies prepared by our favorite cook awaits."

Grinning, Jess dug in, sharing jests and fond memories, letting all care and worry fade with final sips of ale, making her bedding and shutting the door of their makeshift cottage before sinking into deepest slumber, curled against her closest friend.

45

Jess, are you asleep? Jera and I wanted to talk to you."

But Jess was already awake, basking in the silvery rays from the brilliant moon overhead washing over her, the air alive with the sound of crickets and the hoot of owls. A soft breeze laden with pine, jasmine, and an endless plethora of wildflowers left her feeling invigorated and alive.

Jess smiled as her friends approached.

Jera, jacket wrapped tightly about her gazed wide-eyed at Jess, leaning against her beau. "My word, Jess, it's like you knew we were coming."

Jess winked. "Perhaps I did."

Jera smirked, green eyes twinkling. "Let me guess. The grass told you we were approaching?"

Jess chuckled softly. "Hardly the grass, Jera." She pointed up at the rustling oak that made up one of the few trees about the Squire's mock fortifications that had seen more raids, desperate defenses, and all out assaults than any real keep ever had.

A few trees Eloquin had deemed realistic, as some keeps left themselves foolishly vulnerable, allowing such near their main fortifications, the Squires assaulting the other side when Eloquin wanted to truly test them. "It was the leaves above your head."

Jera paled and swallowed, suddenly deadly serious. She and Alex exchanged a solemn glance, bowing as one. "Our thanks to the tree, Jess. We will never mock the power of the forest nor the debt we owe it, and you."

Jess winced. "Don't be so serious, Jera, I was having you on."

Jera smiled. "So, you just happened to be up?"

Jess shook her head. "Nope, the tree really did clue me in, but it's not like he expects you to worship him or anything, and the thought of you blaming yourself for what that sorry excuse of a proctor did is just another burden upon my heart."

Malek nodded. "We chose to charge those Velheim bastards. We put our fellow Squires' lives at risk. If anything had happened to them, it would have been our burden to bear. The fact that all of us made it and we were able to rescue everyone, save for poor Abella, is a miracle for which I'm more than willing to accept our early discharge in trade."

Jess nodded in heartfelt agreement to Malek's words before frowning, fearing that another had been lost. A flash of a panicked girl's cry, sucked into something black and terrible.

Jess shivered, momentarily sickened, the sound of crickets drowning out ghostly cries, and as fast as it took her to wonder why she was sitting so still, her friends gazing at her so oddly, it was gone.

"It's not right." Alex shook his tousled hair, Jera squeezing his hand tight. "None of this is right. That bastard of a proctor shouldn't even be here. He clearly cares nothing for students or staff, scurrying like a rat, looking for any excuse to lash out with his rod."

Jess clenched her fists. "He wouldn't dare."

Alex's gaze hardened. "He has. And the look I saw in the girls he struck made it quite clear they were too terrified to say a word."

Jess swallowed. "But I know Dean Echobart. Everything else aside, he is a good man."

Jera nodded. "He can only do something if people formally report the man, the more the better. But Hatsk has implied that anyone who dares to complain will meet the same fate you did. And really, his smirk says it all. So no one says a word."

"Bloody bastard," Malek snarled. "I should have broken his back while I had the chance!"

Alex flashed a bleak smile. "Rumors and innuendo abound. Why don't you share with us what happened, as best as you remember. I have some ideas, but I need to get my facts straight first."

Jess nodded and told her tale as best she could, what she remembered anyway, changing only a few truths she feared sharing, even with her friends.

Alex frowned. "All right, Jess. I get that you were checking Sella's things in the baths for traces of intoxicant, and if Hatsk really did beat her within an inch of her life and cast her out to die in a gutter somewhere, that's grounds enough for his dismissal if not a trial and a stint in the stockades."

Jera nodded. "But what made you think her flask might have been tainted? Or ours, for that matter?"

Jess opened her mouth, swallowing, realizing she had not a clue.

Malek turned to her, nodding his head in silent agreement. "It's like there's a gap in our memories. I recall knowing and acting on that knowledge, but not what exactly what it was that we knew."

Jess nodded. "And when Twilight warned me that the boy was in danger, and I raced to the rescue, that's when I sprung Hatsk's trap. Duggin ambushing me with a cinquedea, and no slouch with the weapon either. I couldn't risk pulling my blows, and only because I felt guilty about... well, never mind. Anyways, I left Duggin alive. And a good thing too. Hatsk was waiting with the other proctors in tow, accusing me of attempted murder, his beady little eyes and vicious smile oozing pure malice."

Alex frowned. "No mention was made of any knife, particularly one so suitable to killing at close range. No student should be wearing a cinquedea, particularly not a male, without the benefit of being a Squire or Aspirant."

Jess nodded. "And conveniently, no trace of servitor or weapon has been found, though I know Eloquin tried."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "Hatsk is a rotten apple, and has to go. Give me time, Jess. I think, perhaps, I might be able to design a spell that would allow us to track down that dagger."

Jess grinned. "That would be fantastic, Alex. If we had proof, we could intimidate Duggin into giving a confession that would seal Proctor Hatsk's fate for sure."

Alex nodded. "Rens has hit some complications, for all that he's working feverishly hard on perfecting the ritual that will allow us to open a doorway into living dream, so the ceremony is still a few days off. That gives me some extra time." His gazed at the night sky, sighing whistfully. "Imagine it, Jess. Soon we'll be able to explore lands of adventure and wonder, just like in the tomes you and Malek love so much."

Jess exchanged a worried glance with Malek. "Alex, tell me true. Don't you recall being worried about this rift, not so long ago? All but calling Malek and I fools for daring utter oblivion, pursuing a Delver's dream?"

Alex grinned. "I do, Jess, and I realize now how narrow-minded that was. It's your dream. Who am I to scold you out of pursuing it? And with the madness that Highrock is becoming, I see less and less wrong with thoughts of escaping into lands of endless dream and wonder."

"And nightmare, Alex," Malek softly reminded. "Lands dark and foul, where the most hideous and twisted imaginings might be found, very much alive and aware, and hungry for your soul. That was the moral of at least half the tomes you lent me. Did you forget your own lessons?"

Jera shook her head. "Not at all. But we learned from them. Rens will have us warded by the most potent magics before we open the rift wide to better explore all its secrets."

Alex chuckled softly. "Don't worry, Malek. I'm just saying that I appreciate your hunger far more than I did before, and if anything, I owe you an apology." He took a deep breath. "Not to mention my life. The least I can do is try to devise some means to track down that dagger, even though I ache with every fiber of my being to help Rens. When I explained to him that I had a debt to repay to you two, he understood immediately, for all that his hunger to explore living dream is even stronger than mine."

Alex smiled. "Remember, Jess, even while you were wearing that bloody foul robe, no one mocked you in the Wizards Wing. A mage always honors his obligations, and you're a useful ally to have."

He gently clasped Jess's hand. "And you're my friend. And you saved our entire coterie. I can never really repay you for that, but if there's even a chance that I can put an end to Hatsk smearing your reputation with anyone foolish enough to listen to him, I will."

Jess blinked back unexpected tears, Jera kissing her cheek and squeezing her hand in sympathy as they said their farewells before heading back to the keep once more.

Jess gazed at her friend, shaking her head. "I know I should love Alex and Jera finally feeling the same tingle of excitement that we do at the thought of exploring worlds of dream and wonder. But their sudden fascination just fills me with an odd sort of dread."

Malek chuckled softly. "You too, then? Yeah, something feels off."

Twilight grinned. "It is a good thing that you two will be serving as protective sentinels on alert, should anything odd occur. Neither Echobart nor Eloquin are fools. Perhaps they find the odd ebullience strange as well, and ever practical, are not going to let a little expulsion keep them from making use of two exceedingly talented students who have shown themselves quite adept at charging into the strange, and emerging unscathed."

Malek nodded.

Jess blinked, smiling as Malek's handsome features filled with confusion. "did you just say something, Jess? I could swear you did."

Jess chuckled softly. "Let's get some rest, shieldbrother. It looks like we have a few more days to train our hearts out, preparing for what is to come."

And they did just that.

The fields outside the mock keep rang with the sound of steel, Jess and Malek lashing out with the furious intensity of soldiers fighting in earnest, her adept sense of her brother's every move all that prevented the present match from ending quickly, masterful Zwerchhau strikes lashing out from snapping wrists more than capable of decapitating most foes, had their blades been sharpened steel. The match only ended when Jess's armored head fell below her shieldbrother's windmilling blade even as she stopped Malek cold with a powerful drop-lunge that rocked him back with her fencer's trick.

He chuckled softly as he regained his balance. "Well played, Jess. I thought I had you. Few fencers appreciate how deadly a longsword is when used fully on the offense, and that double zwerch should have been your end. But my blows were high, so instead you ducked and thrust, quicker even than most of those rapiersmen that you so love to hate, and you fully armored at that."

Jess grinned. "Just because I despise rapiers in principle doesn't mean I'm too foolish to master their tactics as best I can. And that thrust left me open. Had you fought off shock long enough to cut into me as you fell, we might both be falling to Valhalla, side by side."

Malek winked. "An eternal mead hall and battlefield. A fitting end for a pair of Squires, though for some strange reason I always had the feeling that the most beautiful of gardens was what awaited us, once our time was up. As long as we are together, sister of my heart. And I do believe that is Abe I see, grinning at us so cheerfully, and how he is managing to wave with his hands full, barely able to keep his feet under him, is a trick I will never fathom."

Jess grinned, removing her helmet and waving back at Abe, looking forward to parching her thirst with something stronger than stream water, refreshing and cold as that was.

Something in her smile, perhaps. His eyes seemed almost to shimmer with a puppy's enthusiasm, picking up his pace, racing past one of the few trees about, rustling so intently with warning that Jess only now caught, as poor Abe was abruptly tripped by an unexpectedly placed foot, his flasks of ale and sack of meat pies adeptly caught by none other than Mord de Plaga.

Piercing Jess with that arrogant gaze that seemed to burn right through her, as if her every hardship and humiliation was but a move on a board of his own devising.

Jess clenched her fists with snarl as Abe was sent sprawling in a stunned heap.

Proud as any prince, with chiseled features to match, Mord gazed at Jess with with the arrogance of a king.

46

You dare a lot, coming here." Malek glared at the smirking Aspirant, fists clenched tight. Jess could smell his rage.

Mord tilted his head. "Malek. Choosing disgrace over abandoning my prize. You serve your masters well, dog of war."

"What the hell do you want, Mord?"

He just shook his head, knowing smile firmly in place, one calfskin boot neatly pivoting as he stood up from his lounging pose and carefully circled Jess, as if examining prize stock from head to toe. She had to fight to keep her cool, turning to face him by long ingrained habit, so he was never at her back.

“Well now," he said after an endless pause. "I admit to being curious, Jessica, as to why you stubbornly remained on school grounds when you should already be heading back to your family estates in a proper dress, head low and chaste as the shamed penitent you are, grateful only that I still deem you worthy of being my wife. Yet here you are, dressed quite prettily in your bronze and lamellar armaments, and I see no trace of steel upon your person, save of course for your blade." He gave a slow nod. "So it's true then. You really are planning to Delve."

Jess flashed a thin-lipped frown, unable to deny it. As much as she and Malek had tried to be discrete, they had made a number of inquiries before landing in Rens's good graces. It was not surprising that Mord, with his contacts, would have found out about it. "Yes, I am. What of it, Mord?"

He flashed a toothy smile, and Jess was reminded once again of how much his cold eyes made him look like a snake ready to strike, whenever he thought he had the upper hand. “Nothing, dear Jess. Nothing at all. I have no doubt you will spend a lovely evening making a mockery of yourself as you stumble in the moonlight, searching for pathways you cannot possibly hope to find." Mord gave a satisfied nod. "You and your sodomite of a shieldbrother will both look like fools the next morning, even more than you already do, and you will have only yourselves to blame."

Jess lashed out before she was even aware she had done it, grabbing a fistful of Mord’s silken doublet, yanking him close, and growling into his face in the time it took for him to blink but once in surprise, even as her heart raced with a berserker’s fury. “Take back your insult to my shieldbrother, or face me in combat, Mord de Plaga! If you dare deny me, I shall throw my gauntlet upon the flagstones of your clan’s very House!”

Mord's surprise instantly turned to amusement, his laughter soft and dark as he dipped his head further, a breath away from kissing her, mocking her with his smile. "My ‘insult' as you call it, is nothing less than the truth, whether or not you like my choice of words. But by all means, throw your gauntlet upon the flagstones of our home, Jessica de Calenbry! My father is anxious to meet his future daughter-in-law, and to make sure you know your place. It would be quite the grounds for a blood feud for you to challenge me in that context, don't you think?" His gaze turned fierce. "And soon you will be mine, body and soul. Just you wait, Calenbry. It is only a matter of time."

Jess hissed and shoved him back. “The hell I will, you arrogant bastard! I will never drink the tainted cups you would give me, just as I will never accept your suit! I would rather leave my home forever, living by my wits and blade alone, than be your broken little toy, Mord!"

Mord chuckled softly, his eyes glittering strangely in the light. “You see? I knew there was something I liked about you. Something fierce. Something wild! You will be no wallflower easily swayed and mastered. Your blood runs hot, and your children will be all the stronger for it. And now I know the real reason why you seek to Delve."

“And why is that, Mord de Plaga?” Jess felt her cheeks flush, knowing she shouldn't be speaking to the man at all, grateful that Malek was keeping his cool, for all that she knew he wanted to pound Mord to oblivion.

Mord quirked an amused eyebrow. “Why, power, of course, dear Jessica de Calenbry. What does anyone want, who has escaped the chains of false obligations, who is not too weak to do other than slavishly obey those who would rule over them? Why does anyone resist the sweet rapture of vice, when all too many are willing to surrender utterly? Power. That is why you resist all my temptations, the dark bliss that could be ours for endless seasons. You hunger for the most potent of all vices. Raw power itself. The darkness and glory that are the true motivations of any fool who dares to Delve.”

Jess frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on Delving as well?”

"I am no fool, Jessica de Calenbry. Why would I risk losing myself to that madness?" Mord shook his head, mocking her with his smile. "No, my prize. I will leave it for you to enjoy that game. For every fool that actually survives the journey, two others are warped into hideous abominations, and a score of others earn nothing but bruises and rue, trying to find portals to places they cannot possibly comprehend."

Mord barked cruel laughter. "You might enjoy stumbling around in the dark woods even as discord streaks through the entire mage's circle, those fools playing games they cannot even guess at, but I have far more worthy pursuits to occupy my time. And when you are finally ready for true power, when the folly of a Delver's fantasy is something you can at last see, that is when you will abase yourself before me, Jessica de Calenbry."

She hissed in loathing as Mord grinned, eyes fierce and fiery, his mad gaze pinning her own. “The truth, Jess, is that I'm glad you had the fortitude to resist my enticements." He smirked at the silver flask he now held, throwing it casually behind him. "You might actually be worthy of me, after all. For revels and wine are nothing compared to what I can give you. When the hunger to be something more than the lowly creature you are is more than you can bear, that is when you will come to me. And if I find you worthy? Perhaps I will show you what true power is."

Mord chuckled softly, turning on his heels and sauntering away as if he were the headmaster himself, leaving Jess fuming in confusion and ire.

"Bloody hells, I hate that man!"

Malek squeezed her shoulder in sympathy.

Jess flashed her friend a concerned look. "Mord was in rare form today, Malek. Thank you, for not losing control."

Malek glowered. "To think of the things he said. Marriage to him would be a living nightmare."

Jess nodded grimly. "It would. That's why I will do anything, absolutely anything to be free of him, free of my mother's machinations, free of anyone who would seek to control my fate."

Malek held her close. "On that we feel the same, shieldsister. Will you be all right while I hunt down Alex?"

Jess grinned. "Go, Malek. I know how fond our instructors were of you. Fond enough, I think, to look the other way, so long as you run into no proctors."

Malek smirked. "I'm sure half those professors responsible for your downfall feel at least a little bit guilty."

"Only because you're actually a good student! Now be off, brother mine."

And with a parting nod Malek made his way for the Wizards Wing, the one area of the college where proctors were nowhere to be found, and no one was likely to report Malek with anything more than a sympathetic wink.

47

Jess?"

Hours had passed, Jess having lost herself to the soft susurrations of branches rustling overhead, savoring the evening breeze, pushing regrets out of mind as best she could.

"Are you okay?"

Jess squeezed arms wrapped protectively around her, her shieldbrother's presence soothing away bittersweet reverie.

Jess nodded. "Just thinking of what could have been..."

"If Hatsk weren't such a serpent? If chance and folly hadn't knocked us off a course we have plotted together for years?"

Jess shrugged. "Not that any of that matters now."

Malek nodded. "You're right. It doesn't. You can't change fate, don't even try."

He gave her a hug. "Besides, why worry about what could have been, when the possibility of endless adventure awaits us? If we can cross the barrier into living story, we are Delvers by definition. Neither past mistakes nor clan obligations can be used to bind us, leaving us with an entire world to explore, and countless realms just a dream away. Imagine it, Jess. A library's worth of stories, shelves filled to the bursting with tomes ancient and wondrous, and we gifted with the ability not just to read those tales, but to live them, to make them our own!"

Jess nodded. "You're right, of course. Though Mord made it quite clear that he understands this game just as well as we do, that madness and horror as well as wonder are the rewards for those who dare such a wild adventure as we would embrace."

Jess gazed into gentle brown eyes that were such a contrast to Mord's fierce black, save when alight with a berserker's rage that had frozen more than one foe in his tracks. "Just from speaking to Twilight, I know we've stepped upon the shallows of dream before, for all that we do not recall it. But to dare a rift into the Shadowrealms directly? To approach this ancient tower, should it actually manifest? It is as if, after soaking in the warm baths below the college, we would plunge headfirst into the raging sea."

Malek paled, forcing himself to smile. "What is adventure without risk, am I right, shieldsister?"

Jess grinned back, suppressing a shudder of her own. "What we are contemplating truly is madness, I know this. Odds are, any mystical tower we spy will like as not fade to ruin or mirage as we approach. But still, if it does not fade, I will dare it, and I hope you will be by my side."

Malek nodded, clasping her shoulder with his palm. "Always."

Jess kissed her friend's cheek. "So, what did you find out while I was meditating under our tree?"

Malek sighed, making himself comfortable upon the lush grass at their feet. "I'm sorry, Jess. Alex has done his best in the time he's had, but not even he can forge an arcane connection between steel and the last person who held it. If there were such a spell, it would be a mighty useful tool for any inquisitor, agent, or guard."

Jess grimaced, rubbing her skull. "Then we're out of luck, it seems."

"At least we tried."

Jess nodded, only then catching Twilight's enigmatic gaze, and Jess shook, amazed at how stupid she was being. "Saints above, I'm a fool!"

Malek frowned. "Don't say that, Jess."

Jess took a deep breath. "We know that Alex can't cast such a spell. But does anyone else?"

Malek blinked, a slow smile curving his lips. "No, Jess, they do not."

"So, if Alex were to grandly declare that he'd had an epiphany, and had indeed found the means to track down the wielder of any weapon, no one would know it was a lie, correct?"

Her friend chuckled. "They would not."

Jess nodded. "And should word get back to a certain guilty party that people were tracking down this cinquedea, wouldn't they want to check in on it first thing, perhaps find a more secure hiding place for it?"

Malek winked. "I doubt they'd be able to help themselves."

She flashed a grin at Twilight, gazing back at her with a smug sort of approval. "Well done, my mistress."

"The problem," Malek said, serious once more, "is that we are not in a position to follow them, and anyone who does could very well disappear just as thoroughly as the poor servant Hatsk had whipped half to death, if they lack a Squire's training."

Jess turned to her familiar, who bobbed his head. "I would delight in the adventure of it, Jess. You may rest assured that should they uncover any weapons, I will be the first to know."

Jess grinned, turning to Malek. "Don't worry about someone following our enemies. I just need you to speak to Alex, and then, of course, Lucas as well."

Malek nodded. "To serve as a deterrent, should anyone think to cross Alex, talented as he is in his own right."

"Yes," Jess said. "Though I think Alex can handle himself, should he have time for even a single spell. But he knows nothing about rough and tumble fighting.

Malek rubbed his brow. "If the head proctor feels Alex is a threat, it might be all too tempting for our enemies to strike, if they think he is vulnerable. Then they would either kidnap or kill him, or Alex would surprise them, blowing our foes to piles of super-heated ash, and perhaps bystanders as well. Lucas serving as a deterrent would be much better for everyone, I think."

Jess nodded. "You and I both know the various ways to get into the college, and I wouldn't dream of shaming General Eloquin any more than I already have. So I leave assuring that Lucas is guarding Alex's back to you."

Twilight dipped his head. "A good plan, mistress. Fear not, I shall tell you the moment we deduce the location of this cinquedea."

Malek nodded. "I like it. What happens after they take the bait?"

Grinning, Jess told him, delighting in his smile. "It will take a little bit of preparation, but assuming we ever get formal permission to enter Highrock again, we just might be able to pull this off."

Malek nodded in wholehearted agreement. "Of course if our plan backfires, the results could be catastrophic."

Jess chuckled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

48

Jess, wake up. It’s time!”

Yawning, Jess wiped her bleary eyes to see an enthusiastic looking Malek gazing intently down at her, already kitted up for what was to come. Her first thought was that he looked rather handsome in bronze and cuir bouilli, like a hero frozen in time.

His dark hair curled invitingly over his brows, and she could see the attraction of his piercing gaze and full lips. A shame he so favored boys over girls, she thought with a sigh, pointedly ignoring the blush-inducing memories of those first few weeks they had known each other, before Malek had rescued Jacob and everything changed.

Jess yawned deep, stretching the cracks out of her spine, luxuriating in the strength and power she felt within her well-honed physique, not feeling the least bit tired, for all that her sleep had been abruptly broken the night before, her purring familiar filling her in with the most delightful news. And Malek hadn't batted an eye when Jess had nudged him awake with an urgent message to convey to Alex, time being of the essence, and with an emphatic nod Malek had done just that, both of them dropping off again hours later, their plan in place.

Yet now Malek's eyes twinkled with excitement that had nothing to do with sweetest vengeance. Jess swallowed, throat bone dry, swearing it was exhilaration and not dread that caused her hands to tremble.

The convergence was finally happening. Tonight was the night. The time when the pocket realm of Shadow that the wizards were watching so closely would be pushing against the envelope of mundus, as close to bridging the unimaginable gulf between dreams and reality as it would ever be.

Tonight would be a night of daring and adventure, under the light of a full moon. And Jess just knew that a thick billowing mist would be seeping from the wood, all becoming fuzzy, indistinct. She was coldly certain that even the least imaginative of students would be able to catch the silhouette of an ancient wizard’s tower coalescing out of shadows by the old mound at the forest’s edge, where once it had stood, centuries ago.

Though whether the tower’s silhouette would solidify out of the mist into an impressive edifice full of magic and mystery, or fade back once more into fog and shadow as one approached, all depended on whether one had the discipline and knack to sense the paths between reality and wonder, and enter that realm of living dream.

Yet despite the excitement she swore they both felt, her shieldbrother couldn't hide the fear behind his gaze any more than she could.

She forced herself to say it. “Having second thoughts?”

Her shieldbrother just smiled and shook his head. “Not at all. By all the gods, Jess, if this mad plan actually works? The world is our oyster, and no chains of duty can bind us. We are well and truly free, with endless realms of reality and dream to explore. Alex and Rens, you should have seen the look on their faces, Lucas as well! Even Josie will be part of the ceremony. It's just, well, weren't we worried about this convergence at one point? That it was a sign of trouble coming?"

Jess swallowed and nodded. "It is odd. At one point, I thought Alex and Rens were terrified of what would happen if living dream breached Highrock. But now, it is as if they have grown used to the idea, and are filled only with sweetest exhilaration. And I won't lie, as much as I hunger for the chance to prove myself, Mord's words haunt me still. We aren't just exploring wisps of shadowy fog, but a place where stories come to life. And the way Mord said it, death is a very real possibility."

Jess shrugged. "But it almost doesn't matter. If I ever had cold feet before, I am over it now. Highrock is forbidden to me, and I have nothing to look forward to save years of misery if I dare to go home again." Jess shivered. "With the letter Mother sent me... Honestly, Malek, I know this is an arrow in the dark, and odds are we'll both be stumbling about like fools, but if there is even a chance I can escape the life that awaits me in the Plaga household, I'm willing to take that risk."

Malek held up his hands in mock surrender. “I understand, Jess, believe me. Even if we don't have the knack for it, and the dean finally sends off that graciously deferred letter, don't worry. We'll leave before your mother makes her appearance like a conquering queen before the walls of our keep, and make our way in the world together, without bowing our heads to anyone save the king."

Jess gave a relieved nod. "Good. You're my best friend, and I want us to do this together, just you and me. But I can tell you're still troubled."

Malek sighed. "I was too tired to go into it late last night, but after sharing Twilight's information and finalizing our plans, Alex informed me that the tomes Rens was using as reference for the ritual tonight involve magics alien to our tradition, and in fact show signs of having been used before.” Malek shrugged. “Odds are, it's just a remnant of ceremonies used centuries ago.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “But isn’t it a college tome? And surely the elementalist tradition hasn’t changed that much in just a few centuries? And even if it has, how strong was the spell cast, if it is still resonating this many years later?”

“I don’t have a ready answer to all that, Jess. All I can say is that it looks fine to Rens and Alex, and from what our circle brother implied, those tomes were all sort of liberated from Velheim some years back.”

“Ah, so we are using raid booty we stole from Velheim.” Jess chuckled. “That’s one way to learn their arts, I suppose.”

Malek grinned. “As good a way as any. Now come on, Jess. Time to splash some water on your face and don your gear. Because in a few short hours we'll be slipping free of mundus and stepping into living dream."

Jess smiled and nodded, beginning to feel the exhilarating tingle of excitement already infecting her friend. “Today will be the day, Malek. The first page of the next chapter in our lives. Let’s make it a story worthy of the bards.”

49

Greetings, Master Rens.” Jess honored the master enchanter with a deferential bow.

Rens's brooding features lit into a brilliant smile. "Jessica! So good to see you and Malek both looking fit and well. Abe has been assuring you both recieved plenty of rations, I trust? Excellent." He clapped them both on the shoulder. "Though you have ended your tenure at our college more abruptly then we had expected, you may both count me an ally. Should you ever seek referrals as to your martial talents and integrity, you need but send word, and I will make clear the esteem we of the Wizards Wing have for the both of you, magical affinity or no."

Jess bowed her head, honored for the warmth of his words when she felt so forsaken by so much of her past life. Even if it was only in the form of an occasional letter affirming her worth and integrity, Rens made a fine patron indeed.

"Thank you, Master Rens," Malek said. "We will stand sentinel, at your service. But tell us how we may assist."

Rens chuckled. "I wouldn't worry about a thing, children. Just take your ease, and enjoy the show."

With a final friendly smile, he turned his attention once more upon the multitude of aspiring mages gathering various supplies and artifacts as they prepared the sight of their ceremony upon windswept fields not so distant from the spot Jess and Malek had made their impromptu camp, in direct line of sight as to where Rens had determined the barrier between the realms of mundus and Shadow to be thinnest, and thus where the Regio leading to the Realm of Dreams and the lost tower was expected to manifest.

Jess inhaled the fragrant night air, the sharp clean scent of birch and pine clearing her head as she tightened the straps of her helm, her bronze armaments as comfortable to her warrior's body as a second skin, fitted securely over her gambeson, tight and snug to her frame.

“Looking great, my shieldsister," Malek declared as he came over to rap her helm playfully with his gauntleted hand.

“Likewise, shieldbrother,” Jess grinned, checking the straps of his armor as he did hers, one final time.

Curious about the magic ritual for its own sake, Jess watched the younger students carefully placing incense and powdered chalk to visually depict the ever-blossoming lines of arcane energies Jess could feel flowing out from Rens and the dozen or so adepts forming a circle with him. Together the adepts had joined hands, gazing up at the full moon, chanting fervently as their combined coiling streams of azure power wrapped about the precisely placed sigils in the chalk lined octagram perfectly.

Jess couldn’t help but spend some moments admiring the steady pulse and undulation of the overlapping coils. Utterly in balance with each other, their resonances left them in states of constant flux and equilibrium.

Such a fragile construct, yet balanced perfectly to allow a durability that was fascinating to behold. Jess smiled in appreciation of it, almost able to taste the complex underpinnings of the great masterwork Rens and his journeymen were performing at that very moment.

Malek sighed, gazing forlornly at the ceremony in progress.

“What’s wrong?” Jess asked, herself feeling a sweet hot frisson of excitement, barely able to contain herself. “This is perhaps the most incredible night of our lives! What is troubling you, brother?”

Malek shook his head, his smile bittersweet. “For the most part, I feel just the same as you do, Jess. Who knows what sights we’ll see if Rens actually manages to open a portal to a world overlapping our own? One can only imagine.”

Malek gazed back at the college, right where his quarters would be if he could see through stone, and Jess instantly understood what was troubling him. “Add to that the possibility that you and I might, fates willing, have the knack not just to glimpse Rens's vision of that ancient keep, but be able to actually travel along the paths of dream and wonder and enter that ancient tower lost in Shadow by our own will. That, shieldsister, would be a feat nothing short of amazing. But despite all the beauty and wonder we are witnessing this night, all Jacob cared to say when I snuck in to see him was that our bold venture into the Dreamrealms is frightfully perilous, and you and I are a pair of great big fools.”

Jess tore her eyes away from the fascinating display of power being harnessed and channeled by Rens and spared her companion a sympathetic smile, hugging him gently. “It’s okay, Malek. He’s just worried about you. He’s not trying to kill your joy out of resentment. He’s just afraid.” She sighed. “He doesn’t understand how badly you and I need to break free. Of all expectations, all demands, all the knots of obligation and fidelity, never allowed to fulfill the wild dreams of our own hearts.”

She squeezed his shoulder gently, and could tell by the haunted look in his eyes that he felt the same as she did. “You especially need to break free. Free to live and love as you will. Beholden to the expectations of no one. Jacob doesn’t understand the pressure you are under. You, my friend, feel even more trapped by your title than I do my own. You've revealed your heart to me, Malek, and I will always keep your trust. Your father was a monster, and I would wish for you to always have the means to free yourself from him.”

Malek nodded mutely at her soft words, none overhearing the heartfelt intensity with which they spoke.

Jess gently touched his cheek, forcing his brooding eyes to meet her own, and spoke on. “You and I both need this, Malek. Even if nothing happens at all, even if all we do is chase shadows by moonlight, at least we can say we strove forward and tried to bridge the gap between mundus and story. Whatever happens, whatever life’s demands, at least we have shown ourselves having the courage to struggle, to strive, to break free.”

Her face breaking out in a sudden grin, Jess gazed upon the great stone fortress of a school that she loved so dearly, her heart bursting with emotions she could scarce describe. "Whatever happens, shieldbrother, we have our friendship, and we will get through this night together."

“Hear, hear, shieldsister.” Malek and Jess clasped hands, feeling a fierce sense of resolution and camaraderie, just as Rens' voice cracked and the Octagram flared to life.

Jess and Malek turned as one to gaze at the brilliant silvery ball of energy that had formed between Rens and the journeymen under him. Their arms were raised wide as they chanted in a low, solemn uniform chorus, doing all they could to focus their combined power in stabilizing their summoning into a mystic lens that would, in theory at least, allow them to peer into the heart of Shadow itself.

Jess quickly noted all the apprentices that had helped to prepare the Octagram, bleeding their own power into their masters' channeled spell, most of them panting with exhaustion. She was not surprised at all to see her dear friend Alex among that select handful standing by Rens' side, his status as a greater Journeymen now obvious, fiercely focused on helping Rens shape and control the energies they had spun forth into a great web of crackling power. That Jera also stood among that inner circle, hand firmly clasped to Alex's as she added her energies to his, told Jess that Jera was no small power in her own right, even if she was less overt about her talents, content to stay snug in her lover's shadow.

But what was most remarkable was the presence of Josie herself, graceful features set in a mask of grim determination, silken blond hair seeming to billow upon ethereal winds she alone could feel, channeling energies alien to elementalists arts into the heart of Rens's spell. This like nothing else gave Jess pause, for the working Rens thought to harness was unlike any other Jess had ever witnessed before.

Jess smiled happily for her friends, already such adept students, all of them favored protégés of their respective masters. It was nice to know that their futures, at least, were assured.

It was then Jess noted a certain young man waving happily at her, totally at odds with the decorum of the others. Jess couldn’t help but cringe as Abe, lacking all solemnity, gazed at Jess like a happy puppy, nearly jiggling with excitement. He was about to call out to her, but a fellow student quickly grabbed his arm and shook him to silence, just in time. Putting a finger to mouth, the angry upperclassman fiercely gestured to their master and the dozen or so students literally risking their lives channeling such a complex and potent weave of arcane power.

That senior student then glared at Jess, as if Abe's puppy-like enthusiasm was somehow her fault, and sharply gestured for Abe to leave. Abe sighed, suddenly crestfallen, but complied. For the apprentices were, in truth, done with their share of the work, having set up the circle and given forth their reserves of power. At this point they were there only as a matter of propriety and courtesy, bearing witness to the masterwork ritual manifesting before them. Evidently Abe’s overenthusiasm was deemed highly out of place.

It was then that the cloud cover finally broke, and Jess could feel the light of the brilliant moon caress her skin. Simultaneously she felt a certain comforting presence gently settle himself upon her shoulder, gazing contemplatively at the scene before them.

"And so it begins," Twilight said.

Jess turned her head, peering curiously at her enigmatic cat calmly grooming himself upon her shoulder, when her attention was captured by a sudden flash of silvery light.

“I think it's happening, brother," Jess whispered softly, even as the great spinning orb that Master Rens and her friends were focusing on so intently began to emit a silvery glow of its own, the entirety of the shimmering magical sphere becoming translucent, and Jess thought she could almost make out the blurred wavering image of a chamber deep within, as if gazing down into the depths of her favorite lake for fishing.

Jess noted not a few gasps of wonder, as various students attempted to get a closer look without breaking the links.

“Jess, do you see that?” Malek’s urgent voice quivered with excitement, shaking Jess free of her reverie even as a crestfallen Abe approached them.

“What is it, Malek?" Jess followed his shaking fingers and gasped in awe. For at the crest of the forest covered hill, right beside the cliff face of Highrock, where there had once stood a pile of broken rubble amidst the trees that Jess had more than once fantasized could have stood a great tower many centuries ago, was a sight that caused Jess to shake her head with wonder.

The ancient pile of moss covered rubble was gone.

In its stead was an ancient tower radiating a terrible presence and majesty to any who could see it. Yet what struck Jess the most was that it looked exactly as she and Malek had imagined it to be, in every exquisite detail, in those flights of fancy they had shared while exploring the woods together, seasons ago. Vast and mighty it stood, rising far above the surrounding trees, walls shimmering constructs of marble laden with mother-of-pearl and brilliant flecks of gold, glistening in the brilliant moonlight.

Curiously, whatever else they had argued about while forging their stories during their rambling walks through the woods, they had never once disagreed about the appearance of their imagined tower, and now that very structure rose mightily before them, accurate in every detail to their shared memory, like a dream given flesh and form.

“By all the gods, Jess," Malek hissed in awe. "It looks exactly the way we had imagined it to be. Exactly!" Jess's gauntleted hand found Malek's own and she squeezed tight, letting go only when she saw him wince, such was her strength at times.

"I thought I'd be afraid," Jess confessed, "I had nightmares about this moment. About losing myself to the horrors of living dream." She gave a breathless laugh. "But all I feel now, that the moment is actually before us, is wonder. Wonder and awe."

Malek grinned. "It is just like girding ourselves for Eloquin's missions. When first we trained, it was with fear of death as a constant companion, but once we found ourselves charging at live enemies with Neal and Eloquin roaring in our ears, all we felt was a mad rush of excitement, glorying as we looked death in the face, feeling more alive during those moments than we had ever felt before."

The pair bumped fists and grinned like a pair savoring the first crush of love, and with a single nod they began striding toward the gently wavering tower at the crest of the hill before them. The eerily shifting structure seemed simultaneously but single stride away, and a thousand leagues distant, all at once.

Instinctively, Jess kept her hand gently but firmly clasped to Malek’s own. She fancied she could almost feel the gentle currents of reality and dream forming riptides at the borderlands between the realms of Shadow and Dawn. Dizzy with excitement, she felt almost as if she was preparing to plunge into the deepest waters imaginable as she took a deep breath, smiling as she saw Malek do the same, and together they strode boldly forth into the ephemeral waves of reality and dream flowing between the realms.

“Jess, Jess! I see the tower! Do you see the tower? Wait up, I want to go with you guys!” This from Abe, and Jess felt a sudden prickle of dread, though she knew not why. She could see Jera gazing quizzically at Abe, then back at the magical images formed in Master Rens’s great orb of divination, though even this close to the realm of mundus, Jera and the other mages were shimmering slightly, as if seen through a shallow lake. None of the mages save Abe seemed to have noted the tower, though Jera seemed alarmed as she glanced at Abe.

Jess’s eyes widened as Abe raced to catch up to her and Malek. He had only been a few feet away, yet by some trick of perception, it suddenly looked as though he were a thousand yards behind them.

“Jess, wait up!” Abe’s excited cry twisted into a gurgled scream.

His eyes bulged in sudden surprise. To Jess’s horror, she saw his outflung arm desperately reaching out to her, twisting oddly through space, and she instinctively caught his grip with her own. Malek, sensing something amiss, began to turn around, but time had slowed to a horrific crawl.

For all that Abe’s hand was clenched firmly in Jess’s strong grip, his body had been horrifically twisted and rent, as if he were but a few paces distant, yet stretched, hideously, as far as the eye could see.

Even as her mind was frozen in utter horror, Jess somehow sensed what was wrong.

For all that Abe's feverish eyes beheld the shimmering tower with sufficient passion that he had been compelled to dive headfirst into the stormy seas that lay between reality and dream, he did not possess the dark resiliency needed to survive the journey. Unthinking, he had leaped forward into a realm he couldn't possibly understand. Far worse, his soul couldn't fully lift itself from the fierce grip of mundus. The realm of the living held him tight.

So great was the terrible pressure now upon him, physical and arcane, that Abe's body had begun to twist and buck against the very laws of nature, torn and distorted by the inconceivable pressures of the ethereal sea of dreams and possibility that Jess somehow sensed lay all around them at this, the bleeding edge of reality and dream. And just as endless heaps of fish entrails thrown by a careless fisherman back out to the sea would rope, twist, and spool outwards before eventually being pulled under the sea's grasp, such was also the fate of Abe. His body began roping out hundreds of yards in a twisted agony of a living flesh; entrails unwinding, body unspooling and shaking, the very cords of his soul lashing out wildly.

Abe’s shrieks were equal parts horror and pain. Terrible cries that tore through Jess no less for being silent, she feared her eardrums would rupture as the very ether began to writhe and buck with the pain of Abe's tormented screams.

Every organ of his body unspooled in a hideous mockery of living flesh as he was stretched impossibly in directions Jess could barely fathom before imploding upon himself, rupturing with a silent roar that rocked through Jess's soul. She sobbed, tormented with the awful knowledge that Abe had been aware of every unspeakable moment of agony before his body and soul were lost forever.

Jess shook as she felt the terrible weight of Abe's screams rip through her yet again, before realizing that they were her own.

“Move, Jess!” Twilight’s sharp reprimand cut through her state of horrific disbelief. “This is not a place to dally, on the border between dream and reality. You dare not risk slipping through the cracks of your world, lest the realm entire fall to your folly!”

Jess gasped, blinking, gazing at her cat. Tail lashing, his fierce sapphire eyes met her own stunned gaze. “Move!” he curtly demanded, and Jess could feel the misty ground start to steam away from the terrible weight of her awareness.

Jess, however, was still frozen by the unspeakable horror of what had occurred, realizing at last just how dangerous was this game she played. She felt an insistent tug on her arm, looking upwards into the concerned gaze of her brother-in-arms. "Um, Jess, is that the invisible familiar you keep telling us about that none of us can hear or see? Shimmering coat of fur like the midnight sky, eyes sparkling like sapphires?"

“Yes.” Jess shuddered. “That’s him.”

“Yeah, um… I can see him.”

“I gathered.”

“He thinks we should get moving, doesn’t he?”

“Abe just died, Malek! He just… oh by the gods…” Jess sobbed, gripping Malek’s hand tightly, trying desperately to hold it together. Knees weak, she wanted little more than to collapse in a ball and grieve.

Malek’s gaze was heavy with grief and terror both. “Yes, I know. He was a silly fool, and he didn't deserve for that horror to befall him. But we have to focus, Jess! If what your cat said is right, that same fate will befall us if we don't get a move on. There will be time enough for us to grieve, but only if we survive to remember him."

Jess clenched fiercely upon her grief, forcing herself to move, to go forward. No matter how heavy her heart was, no matter how much she wanted to scream her fury at the uncaring Void, she knew she had to be strong. She had to force her will, sharp as an arrow, upon the shimmering tower before them, and push through the misty fluctuating fog with all her might, one step at a time, no matter how heavy her heart.

Gripping her friend's hand firmly, terrified that he too might somehow slide away, Jess strode forth through the awful mist even as the shadowy ground sucked at her feet like some terrible bog of liquid blackness and nightmare, one grimly placed step at a time. For now, the exhilaration of having actually found the midnight sea of dreams had metamorphosed into terror at the ruthless storms that could sink any unwary traveler who dared to physically enter realms of living myth and legend.

“Don't worry, Jess." Twilight's voice was almost melancholy. "Soon you will forget why your heart fills you with such sorrow, as do all those who dare to embrace living story. Mystery and wonder await those brave souls, yet there is a terrible price to be paid. For those who enter the realms of Dream and Shadow will themselves become a part of that legend which they seek to explore. Should they die here, they will be forgotten, as if they never were; their very life but a distant memory, a forgotten dream."

Jess shook her head, still throbbing with an unnamed sorrow, her head aching and filled with a fuzzy blur. "I thought this would be such an incredible journey. But now Abe is gone, his very soul torn free of this world. Damn it, Twilight, this was supposed to be our grand adventure. No one was supposed to die!"

“Jess!” Malek’s grip vibrated with excitement. “Don’t give up. I see it, up ahead. I think we’re going to make it, I think we’re almost through!”

"By the angels above, I think you're right, Malek," Jess whispered with reverence and a bone-weary sense of relief, even as the shimmering tower that had appeared stubbornly distant, never growing closer despite their efforts to traverse the endless bog they had found themselves within, had at last coalesced crisp and clear before them. The pair of them lurched gratefully into the grassy clearing before the magnificent tower they faced, the grand structure standing bright and visceral against the midnight sky, as solid and corporeal as anything Jess had ever seen.

Jess whooped with delight and laughter, feeling such exhilaration and excitement as she had never felt before.

50

They had done it. They had traveled through the mist-laden paths of Shadow, and now found themselves within living dream. All the melancholy and sorrow that had dogged Jess during that brief but terrible journey popped like a bubble.

She breathed deeply, refreshed by the wonder before her as the last echoes of dread left her as if they had never been. And she could tell with a single glance that Malek felt the same. He looked a bit drawn, but his face mirrored the very ebullience coursing through her.

Jess shook her head with a happy grin. “Angels above, Malek! I had so hoped, so prayed that we could do this. I had so feared that we were fooling ourselves. I was afraid that we would never even be able to see the pathway, let alone have it within us to make the journey without it fading to mist. But here we are. We’ve done it!”

Malek laughed in triumph "Indeed we have, dearest Jess. Free from our families and their thinly veiled contempt for our differences. Standing high above our skeptical friends who probably thought we'd be stumbling in the dark like a couple of children chasing mad fancies! We can live life on our own terms now, shieldsister. Adventure and mystery await us; power, glory, and freedom."

Jess and Malek laughed so hard their eyes streamed tears of exhilaration and joy, so great was the sweetness of their relief. The darkest nightmare of their journey Jess could already feel fading to farthest memory, like a dream itself. There was only this moment of glory and triumph. The past irrelevant, the future uncertain. All that mattered was savoring every second of the present, living life as vitally and vibrantly as they could.

Jess savored that sweet wine of triumph, having hoped so hard they could succeed as Delvers, to inspire legends of their own in the tales of bards one day; the awe and wonder of finding their dreams made manifest, the tower just as she and Malek had imagined it to be, bold and real as life itself.

But they would succeed only if they had the courage to face what challenges lay before them. She gazed carefully at the imposing tower, its vast walls inlaid with massive sheets of mother-of-pearl veined with gold, sparkling like a priceless jewel in the brilliant moonlight dappling the gently waving grasses a silvery hue.

Beautiful it was, utterly like her dream of it. Yet Jess held still, gazing carefully at the grand structure before her. She could feel energies shimmering all about it. Old enchantments entwined their essences about this place, filled with the magic and memories of ancient feats of spellcraft lost to the mists of time.

The ebullience that had filled her with such euphoric relief faded quickly, Jess instantly sober to the potential for danger that lay ahead. She could sense something about this place. Something brooding. Something deadly. An alien presence that flickered in and out of the corner of her mind’s eye. She could not place it, but it troubled her.

A now calm and focused Jess gently let go of her companion’s warm grip to assure a smooth draw with her blade hilt, her sword loose and ready in its sheath, should it be needed. Sabers left behind, they had dared to bring only one blade of steel apiece into this strange land of dreams.

“Jess, what’s wrong?” Malek asked, his own cheer instantly replaced with wary caution as he sensed Jess's suddenly sober mood, checking his blade as well. “Well, we are off school grounds, that’s for damn sure."

Jess took a steadying breath. “Old magics. Flickering. Paths to power thought long forgotten. Still living on in the echoes and nightmares of eons past. Somehow given unnatural life. And I taste the bitterness, the coldness of winter.” She flashed a bleak smile at Malek's troubled gaze, realizing how oddly monotone her voice must have sounded, gazing at the ancient fortress almost as if she had been in a trance. “Sounds like I’m rambling, right? I don’t know, Malek, something just feels very troubling.”

Malek nodded solemnly. “You don’t have to be a master wizard to sense that this place reeks of power. I know I’ll never match Alex’s mastery of the arts, but even I can feel that something is very off about this place as well.”

Jess nodded her agreement. “All right then, best we be as careful as we can. Let's treat this expedition as if we were entering enemy territory. If you have any wards you wish to cast upon yourself, now would be the ideal time.”

Malek grinned. “Already done, shieldsister. If any elemental magic comes at us, I’ll hopefully be able to ground at least the first couple of castings.” Malek chuckled ruefully. "Since I seriously doubt that Rens will be taking on expelled students as apprentice enchanters, protective wards and leading coteries of battlemages in warfare is pretty much all I'm good for. Gods above know how hard we trained for just that role under Master Eloquin's tutelage.”

Jess nodded. “You taking the lead and I always by your side during those sessions, protecting our charges from arrow and spear while you whipped those tongue-tied apprentice mages into some sort of fighting force that could ride a pony, take an order, and if we were really lucky, manage to focus enough to fling light globes at whatever straw dummies were being used as enemy targets that day." Jess smirked in remembrance. "I think Eloquin got a certain amount of satisfaction, foisting their training entirely upon our laps, and our comrades didn't help either, joking that they could use the time we were stuck babysitting to polish their skills enough to finally take us on."

Malek nodded. “Not that we would ever ask them to blacken their daggers and join us on the High Hunt."

Jess took a careful look at the great slab of oak that served as the door before them. She approached slowly, her eyes never leaving the brooding gaze of the twisted dwarf etched with such loving detail into the center of the door. So exquisitely and painstakingly carved was the bas-relief that it looked utterly lifelike. Jess could almost imagine terrible magics being used to sever a man’s living face from his body, only to bind it through darkest arts to the brooding oaken door before her.

Her hand clenched the hilt of her longsword as she made out the brilliant carving’s very pores. She found herself tingling, almost expecting the carving's eyes to gaze at her with brilliant animation, springing to unholy life. Yet the intricate relief stayed just that. The eyes, of course, never moved, lifelike as they appeared. The great silver knocker crudely thrust in its otherwise exquisitely carved nose stayed utterly still.

Jess turned her head to gaze at her oldest companion. “What do you think, Twilight?”

Twilight flicked his tail, glancing at the door but a moment before fixing Jess in place with his enigmatic gaze. “This is your story, Jess. Your adventure. I think you know as well as I do the nature of that door. It is for you to decide what next you must do.”

Jess nodded. “You’re right, Twilight. This is on me now.” She turned back to face the door, allowing her eyes to unfocus, carefully looking beyond the gently shimmering haze of power, that incredibly fine matrix of fluxing waves of arcane energy that permeated every inch of the great tower before her. Satisfied by what she had sensed, she turned to a stunned looking Malek. “It’s all right. There are no active wards on this door. Nothing to prevent us from going through. It’s just locked.”

Jess blinked, taking in her companion's shocked expression. “Malek, what’s wrong?”

“Your cat! Angels above, Jess, it talked!” Malek’s voice was strained, and he was gazing back and forth between Jess and Twilight with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension.

Jess tilted her head, peering at Malek quizzically. “Of course he did. It’s just Twilight. You know, the cat I talk to all the time, the one that lets us know routinely if we’re being spied upon or not with our Circle meetings? The cat that scouts for us near every time we blacken our daggers, save when Knight Commander Hyve decided to rush the last den of slavers we took out like a complete jackanapes?” Jess gave an exasperated shake of her head. “And my memory of that night fades, soon after. Anyway, you’ve known about Twilight for years, Malek. Why are you getting upset now?”

“Because, Jess, this is the first time I’ve actually seen him, or heard him speaking to you!”

Twilight gazed at Malek, appeared unimpressed, and yawned. "Actually, it's not, Malek. You heard me speak most recently only minutes before, upon the journey through the borderland mists of dream and nightmare that serve as the barrier between this realm and your own. Of course, you've already forgotten that, have you not? Just as you have everything associated with the poor young fool who had screamed his last, moments before slipping out of sight and mind forever."

Malek frowned in sudden consternation. “What is he talking about, Jess?”

Jess sighed. “No need to get snippy, Twilight. It’s not his fault, really.” She smiled encouragingly at her friend. “Relax, Malek. Of all the things we’re experiencing on this night, the fact that you can finally see my cat shouldn’t be that surprising. Twilight thinks it’s probably because we’re now resonating with this realm of Regio. This Dreamrealm, if you will. It seems that certain rules can be bent here, so now you can sense and see what is normally hidden from you. Whether you’ll be able to do so when we find our way back home? That I don’t know.”

Malek closed his eyes, giving himself a firm shake. “You’re right, Jess. How odd should it be that you, with all your other talents, would have a familiar? What mage, after all, would be more likely to have a talking cat for a companion than a Druid?” Malek shrugged. “I guess, on some level, we thought you were, I don’t know…”

Jess cracked a wry grin. “Making it up, you mean?”

Malek sighed. “Not so much making it up, as it being just an eccentricity. A metaphor for talents you don’t like to acknowledge directly. Just a figure of speech for you. Really, Jess, we just saw it as part of who you are, and haven’t given it any thought for the longest time. Only now I see that Twilight’s, well, real.”

“Real as blood and battle, Malek.” Jess smiled. “Come! Enough dallying. Let’s enter this bewitched tower and see what awaits us. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Right, my brother?”

Malek nodded in agreement, then held up his hand. “I thought you said the door was locked? And how can you be sure it's not trapped?”

Jess chuckled. “When has a door not opened for me?”

Malek shook his head, bemused. “That’s right. Whether it's growing things, dodging spears, or coaxing a stubborn door to open, you’ve always had a way with wood. But are you sure your gifts will work in the Dreamrealms?"

Jess blinked and frowned. "There's only one way to find out." Not daring to hesitate for even a moment, lest uncertainty spell her downfall, she placed her hand upon the door. A steely look of determination, a firm push, and all could hear a sharp twang as the great oaken door slowly opened to reveal a dark hallway, the brooding gloom broken by flickering balls of arcane light emanating from orbs of ancient etched glass interspersed along the corridor as far as they could see. Sword at the ready, Jess used her off hand to gently open the great door fully, the sound of the ruptured iron lock sliding across ancient stone slabs echoing through the grand hall.

Checking his hilt, Malek entered just behind Jess, followed by Twilight, who quickly loped to the lead, eyes glancing back to catch Jess’s before he stepped further into the gloom.

“Jess, what do you think?”

Jess grinned at her shieldbrother. “Considering that we are well and truly on our own with no school to retreat to and no desire to become our families' playthings, I think we should explore this wonder from attic to cellar and claim whatever treasures we can find. Our first step towards a life of true independence and freedom, where we need accept no patron's largess, making our own bold way in the world.” She laughed softly. “Assuming we can find such things here, of course.”

Malek nodded his emphatic agreement to that. “It's a good thing we brought sacks. And let’s keep an eye out for traps, magical or otherwise, as well as any less pleasant things we might encounter.”

Of like mind, they proceeded, step by careful step, past the great stone foyer to the hallway beyond.

Soft leather padded footsteps and gracefully placed paws made hardly a sound as the three traveled down the corridor. For all the brooding danger Jess could sense, she had never felt more exhilarated, never felt more alive. Flashing her companion a quick glance, Malek's answering smile let her know he felt exactly the same.

Every sight she took in filled her with awe. To actually be here, in the heart of Regio, immersed in a dream of the past, or a figment of madness, perhaps; made every bit as real as the world she had left behind. Alight with sweetest anticipation, Jess reveled in the thought of discovering lost wonders and untold treasures. Artifacts and knowledge lost to the living realm for ages, for all they knew, waited here in these dark eerie corridors, needing only one with the courage and resolve to claim them.

Just up ahead the corridor opened up into a large chamber, ancient glass globes flickering with an azure magelight radiating a silvery blue luminescence from the corners of what appeared to be an ancient hall.

Jess felt a chill race down her spine as eerie notes of ancient music began to wind their ghostly way through the hallway, and she caught odd glimpses of dancers twirling about the great floor out of the corner of her eye.

Dresses of elegant silk and lace, faces maggot eaten masks of rotting flesh. As one they suddenly turned and bowed, flashing Jess their rictus grins.

She gasped and lurched into Malek.

“Jess, what’s wrong?” Her friend's face was filled with concern.

Jess blinked, and noted the great chamber was empty of all inhabitants, though several tables appeared freshly laid out with silver and linen. There was not a speck of dirt or fold out of place, Jess noted, and to her wonder, the candelabra even had what appeared to be freshly lit beeswax candles, for all that there was no trace of a living soul.

“Nothing." She shivered. "I just thought I saw or heard... something." But the room was utterly silent. "It's odd, though. Isn't it? These tables laid out fresh as if for a grand dinner, but I don't see a soul."

Malek nodded. “Odd as hell. Silver serving platters and all. I wonder what they were expecting for dinner?” With that he strode forward and lifted one of the sterling serving lids, steam wafting from the lifted tray as if the food was still hot, freshly prepared but moments ago.

Jess felt a chill as she watched Malek gazing upon the platter with growing horror, gasping and dropping the silver lid to clang upon the fine tiled floor. “By all the gods!” Malek cursed.

“What is it?” Jess felt her heart start to race from her friend’s sudden panic. His eyes stopped her in her tracks.

“It’s someone’s face!”

Almost as if she were in a dream Jess approached, gently lifting the lid Malek had slammed back down. But hadn't it fallen to the floor? All she saw when she lifted it was steam so thick her eyes instantly watered, and she put the lid back down. But she had thought, for a moment, that she could hear the flicker of faint screams tickling the back of her ear.

She shuddered and backed away.

“I don’t think this tower is a good place.” She found her free hand gently gripping Malek’s own, and he squeezed in agreement tight enough she could feel it through her armor. Jess took a deep breath, resolute. “It’s strange, though. I see no chords echoing through the chambers. If this were enchantment, I would hope to be able to sense it.”

Malek gazed at her in renewed wonder. “That’s right. You can see the bindings of magic, can’t you? For you, weaving a spell isn’t just a metaphor, it’s something you can see firsthand. It’s how you knew the door wasn’t magically warded.”

Jess nodded and smirked. “Let me guess. You thought that gift was as real as Twilight.”

Malek had the grace to look embarrassed. “Well, yes. I mean, I know you had a nose for magic, at least. You could sense that a mage was manipulating forces, which would be a mighty fine gift in any battlefield commander, but to actually see the ethereal energies being gathered into chords and woven into webs of power? There I had my doubts. I would challenge any man who dared to mock your claim, but I didn't really think such a thing was possible. No one did, Jess. No one has even heard of a power like that before. Only Alex was completely open to the possibility. But when you were drawn to Master Rens’s artifacts like a magnet, even sensing their purpose, I knew you had a pretty fine gift indeed. To be honest, I’m almost jealous. A gift like that, and you would think the college would bend over backwards to keep you, not throw you away like rubbish, thanks to one proctor's bloody lies."

Jess felt a gentle pressure on her foot. "To answer your question, Jess, it is because there is no spell being deliberately cast here," Twilight explained. "Remember, this keep lost in a sea of dreams given flesh and will. You are seeing echoes, reflections, moments in time all tangled up together. It is rare, I think, for multiple scenes to overlap and flow through each other. One can only wonder at the horrors that must have occurred here."

Malek shook his head in disbelief. "But that silver lid I had picked up, it felt as real as life!" Even as they gazed at the tables before them, spread with such horrific fare, they both caught sight of sudden waves of steam billowing up between the tray covers. Malek pulled Jess back with him as he stepped cautiously away, the tables suddenly overflowing with smoke and the stench of rot. Sparing a single glance for Jess's worried gaze, he quickly looked back and hissed a soft curse.

Jess felt a chill shiver down her spine. She didn't even need to turn around to know that she would find the tables completely gone, as if they had never been. A surreptitious glance back confirmed her dread suspicion, as not a trace of the richly laid banquet remained, save clouds of steam and smoke that faded away to nothing.

“Indeed," Twilight confirmed. "And had you clenched that silver tray with your will, Hound, had you gone so far as to drag it out of this chamber, to leave the tower entire and travel back to the mortal realm we call our own, it would have manifested as real and solid as any silver artifact in the college's collection. Yet now it is but a fragment of a dream, and an unstable one at that. Now if it's all the same to you, I believe it is best if we leave this chamber. Its instability is… less than soothing."

Jess looked down at her familiar, noting that his sleek coat was puffed and wild looking, for all that his demeanor was as calm and collected as always. “I agree, Twilight. Let’s leave these chambers for now. We will be returning soon enough upon our exit.”

"Why did you call me a hound?" Malek gazed curiously at Twilight a moment before shrugging and following Jess, the three proceeding as one toward the great archway at the back end of the grand room, pointedly ignoring the mist once again manifesting behind them, Jess's ears ever alert for the sound of trouble to come.

Yet they remained unmolested as they traveled down the dark passage seemingly carved straight out of the bedrock, as if the keep had somehow metamorphosed into tunnels long forgotten in the heart of Highrock mountain. The fey magelights had been replaced by sticks of pale wood, the tips of which burned with a fierce, crimson light.

Jess gasped when she realized those pale white sticks were actually thigh bones, jammed savagely into the bedrock, the very stone having cracked from the force that had hammered them in.

Jess could sense a dark power caressing the edge of her senses, the cold chill of dread causing her heart to race with apprehension, sickened by the icy frost of mounting horror numbing her limbs. She forced herself to swallow, throat suddenly parched. Clenching her fists tight, knowing how deadly a weapon fear could be.

In the heat of combat, nothing killed quicker than mind-numbing terror. But one reason why when tensions mounted, she so eagerly surrendered to a berserker's rage. Yet for all the times she had laughed in the face of death before, fear once more lifted scaly claws of dread, seeking to sap her strength like any raw recruit before her first battle.

“This is a terrible place, Jess. Can you feel it? By the gods, those are bones!" This from Malek, who gasped as he discovered for himself what had sent Jess's skin crawling. She nodded in curt agreement, taking it as a silent cue to unsheathe her blade. Their training immediately coming to the fore, Malek backed several feet behind and to her right, and she heard the gentle hiss of metal on silk that let her know he had just unsheathed his own well cared for blade. Black sheep he might have been, but his father had not stinted on his son's battle gear.

Twilight stopped and hissed. "Can you feel it, Jess? Something vile approaches around the bend."

Jess gasped and realized she could indeed feel something; a wave of twisted wrongness, emanating ever so faintly from the hallway ahead as it made its warped way through the bedrock. It was like sensing the heat of a burning ember inches away from her cheek, the heat replaced by waves of malice headed directly towards them.

Jess was suddenly utterly certain that whatever approached would be unlike anything either of them had faced before. Determined not to flinch from terror when it emerged, she found her heart racing in fear, and anticipation.

“Jess, what’s going on?” Malek’s whisper was urgent, confused.

“Something’s coming. Something awful that shouldn’t be. Can’t you feel it?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

Jess didn't spare him even a glance, so focused she was on the dark presence she felt just then making its way around the bend. She could sense Malek's alarm, however. "Just keep yourself ready, shieldbrother. I fear we are going to fight in earnest, this day."

Jess heard it just before it emerged from the shadows. A hideous sliding scrape, the sound of a dying man dragging his rotting body across endless stone tiles. The sound of a plague victim giving up his last breath in a hideous sigh.

And then it appeared.

51

Before them stood a twisted caricature of a man covered entirely in scaly gray skin. Its face was a skull-like mask of seared flesh crackling with steaming pus, its entire tumorous body dribbling caustic ooze. It gazed upon Jess with eyes like twin embers, lips stretching impossibly wide, jaws unhinging like a snake's, revealing multiple rows of jagged teeth.

Even from twenty feet Jess could smell the sickly-sweet stench of rot emanating from the horrific being before them. The twisted creature began to whisper then. Hissing terrible echoing words that hinted at madness, chaos, and agony never-ending.

Malek snarled, clenching shut his eyes, having only the discipline to grip his sword tightly. Twilight hissed his displeasure, and Jess found to her utter shock that she understood the creature’s hideous utterings.

“Dinner, it has arrived!” cackled the ghastly apparition. “I felt the sweet reality of soulflesh puncturing the dream, raping its pristine purity with the stench of blood, and life!” The creature emitted a gurgling hiss Jess realized was laughter. “Sweet blood and life! Sweet, sweet suffering to embrace. The rapture of flesh. More souls to torment, for me and Master!”

Jess felt mind-numbing terror turn to hot rage, a fierce boiling fury that such an abomination would dare to set foot upon her world, would dare even to exist within her dream. Obeying the cries of her heart in a gesture of defiance as old as Erovering itself, she raised her blade up high and cried out her challenge. "What twisted mockery of flesh and bone addresses me? You who seek to feast on flesh and pain will instead sup upon steel, when I ram my sword down your throat!”

Her words seemed to break the creature’s pull. It blinked, suddenly focusing its blazing orbs upon the one who dared to offer challenge. Its smile widened, though whether in hunger or pleasure, Jess could not say.

“Ah. One who knows the true tongue. Very good. Your soul has potency. I can feel this, yes, I can! I shall feast well indeed upon the exquisite agony I shall render for you. Just for you. My sweetest gift!” The vile mockery of life cackled hideously, ebony black claws erupting from shattered fingers as the twisted being slowly stalked toward them, as if to savor the dread it hoped to inspire, dragging its claws to cut great furrows into the bedrock as it approached.

And Jess could sense the creature’s terrible strength, waves of awful, inhuman power radiating from the apparition before her. A dark matrix of energies she could feel it embracing; tightly wound chords of bilious essence winding through flesh and bone. Somehow, she could sense the great pulsing ruby where the creature’s heart should be, throbbing in tune with the dread magic that kept it upright, eyes hot with the burning fires of hate.

The creature suddenly hissed, eyes sparking, and Jess could sense the sudden hot chord of dark red power, utterly alien to the azure blue strands of Elemental magics, lash out and cut deeply into Malek’s arm. He screamed, dropping his blade, clenching tightly as blood oozed from his wrist. The monster laughed, even as Malek slowly backed away in horror.

“Don’t worry, boy. That was but a taste. Go on, pick up your toy. I WANT to see you dare to LUNGE at me with your sorry excuse for a true weapon! I WANT to feel your blade SHATTER against my immortal flesh before I plunge its metal fragments into your EYES and SCOOP out your brain as I savor your SCREAMS and feast upon the dribbles of your soul. Pick up your blade, boy. I command it!”

Malek clenched his ears tight, eyes streaming with tears, and Jess could taste the flickers of madness the horrific beast's abyssal words inspired.

“Malek!” Jess’s curt words snapped through her friend’s dazed look of horror, bringing him back into focus. “Ignore its hissing. Pick up your blade, damn it!” This she said even as she snapped her hand forward with an abrupt jerk, somehow disrupting the crimson casting, and the creature hissed in surprise and fury.

“It’s just an illusion!” Jess cried. “The stuff of dreams! Its spells are just suggestion. Coaxing your own mind to make it reality. Look at your wrist. The wound is but a paper cut. It’s nothing! Pick up your blade and guard thyself!” And Malek looked down in surprise. What he had obviously thought a great spurting wound upon his wrist was just the thinnest line of red, barely oozing a drop.

The creature’s eyes blazed. “You dare to thwart my power? To challenge me with your paltry mortal magics? I will make you SCREAM for that, bastard child of man! Oh yes. You will scream, little bitch, and I will keep you alive to feel the agony I wring from your flesh like the sweetest of melodies! Oh yes, I will let you linger, as I suck the knowledge from your brain, savor the marrow from your bones so you can FEEL the torments I favor you with. I will let you linger, vile mortal child. Let you linger, so that I can feast upon the screams of your broken soul for an eternity of hell in my sweet, sweet, loving embrace!”

Malek was whimpering, tears streaming down his face. With one hand he banged his helmet as if to free his brain of the abyssal words echoing through his skull. Yet for all that, his other hand held grimly onto his blade.

Her cat seemed to have slipped into the shadows all around them, but his comforting voice washed through her as if he were but a hair's breadth away. “Guard your mind, Hound. For it is the tongue of demons that caresses your ears. And such foul whispers remind you of horrors and inspire such wrath as you have been spared for a long time indeed.”

“Good counsel, Twilight,” Jess whispered, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her friend cracked, and she knew what had to be done. She gauged her moment, noted the twisted flow of words as the creature gloated and mocked them. Even as it turned, laughing at Jess’s blade with contempt, she struck.

In that instant, time seemed to slow to a trickle. Jess felt the fierce heat of wrath and exhilaration course through her she sprung forward with the speed of a striking adder, blasting through her foe’s hastily raised arm with a fiercely powerful Stechen thrust; charging forward, feeling her blade jar against flesh hard as bedrock. The jolt of steel against stone coursed through her arms even as she morphed her blow into a vicious Zwerchhau double strike, her longsword slashing into both sides of the creature's pustule-laden throat as she pivoted past him, her movements flowing naturally, effortlessly; the benefit of inborn talent and a thousand hours of diligent practice.

Yet even as Jess sprang away, pivoted blade raised in Ochs to counter any final blow, expecting to see her foe’s lifeblood spurting from its neck, Jess felt her chest squeeze tight with sudden dismay to see hardly a scratch upon the hideous throat she had hacked with such controlled fury, even as the creature quickly recovered its balance and hissed. Not even her deadly thrust to the chest, her full weight and fury behind the blow, had resulted in more than a bloodless dent.

Jess’s eyes widened with shock, even as the hellish thing cackled with contempt.

“What’s wrong, child of man? Surprised your mortal blows could not cut through the gifts of darkness that ward my flesh? Ha, mortal fool! You who would dare to raise your blade against me shall soon know the price of your folly!”

The hideous creature then lashed forward, ebony talons slicing the air with near inhuman speed, and it was all Jess could do to parry and weave away.

Only the benefit of diligent, near fanatical training kept her from losing her balance as she focused every ounce of her concentration to master the moves of this deadly dance of blade versus claws that could tear through stone.

So often she had fought blade against blade, self-sword and shield, messer and buckler, any combination of weapons she imagined she might face on the battlefield. She would accept any challenge with any weapon against her longsword. Even against pairs of foes, she would gamely face them and quite frequently triumphed. Even when Mord's fellow Knight Aspirants, many of whom were not her friends, got the best of her and mocked her defeat with contempt, she would never let it shake her confidence, she would never let it break her.

Her response when bested was to diligently train with other students, instructors, even Master Eloquin himself, striving to understand and master the nuances of whatever fighting style had defeated her. She would train until she learned to complement, confound, and counter all her opponent's moves; until she arrived at the point where, on her best days, sparring with any weapon set was as natural as breathing. Days she truly felt like she was a child of war, freer than she had ever been, striving for victory in the heart of battle, a fearless hellion who could spit in the face of death itself, and emerge victorious.

The creature grimaced, sensing the sweet taste of victory as he felt Jess lean back, seemingly off balance. Claws lashing out, teeth snapping, the beast lunged. Jess, having shifted her hips and grounded herself, sidestepped her foe's savage frenzy with a near catlike grace, her pivot ending with a powerful slam of her sword hilt into the creature’s open maw, and to her intense satisfaction she heard at least one of its blackened teeth crunch.

It screamed. Gazing at her with demonic hate. Hissing, it backed away to gauge his opponent carefully, even as Malek, with a fierce cry, struck at its rear. The creature roared at the momentary distraction, yet Malek's blade did little more than skitter over its rock hard back. The hellish apparition grinned, almost contemptuously batting Malek away, sending him smashing into the bedrock wall.

He slumped to the ground, a collapsed heap, even as blood leaked from the creature's razor-sharp claws.

Jess then felt a burning prickle herself, noting that the beast's razor-sharp claws had cut through thick lamellar plates and quilted gambeson underneath like a red-hot knife burning through parchment.

Her demonic foe noted her surprise and cracked a hideous smile, its eyes glowing with satisfaction. “Do you feel it, foolish mortal? Do you feel my abyssal essence burning through your mortal flesh? Just wait, arrogant one. Give it time. It will slowly corrode your innards, festering them with sores, till your body ruptures. A blackened sack full of festering puss! But you will still be alive, my precious treasure. Still be alive to feel every fiber of your body rot and rupture, sick essences and poisons burning and tormenting your shriveling brain, but never allowing you the grace of final death!" It cackled hideously and did not notice Jess's wild grin.

For she understood then, even as the creature’s sting bled to nothing. It was illusion. All of it. Naught but a dream.

As her familiar had wisely noted, the phantom constructs here only had a solidity, a permanency, if an adventurer kept them on their person until they entered the waking world once more. And, who was to say she couldn’t do more than just solidify an imaginary figment?

So much more! She felt an almost dizzying euphoria as she recalled how easily she had snapped this creature’s magic spell whip with but a single yank. Because her living flesh was far more real than a dream fragment. Because she believed she could. And the power of belief, she realized with a frisson of insight, the ability to impress her vision of what this waking dream could be, should be, till it inevitably bent to the power of her will, might just be the key to mastering the Dreamrealms. Or so she hoped.

Like many girls, Jess had more than once found herself able to shape her dreams, once she was cognizant of them. She wondered if she could do the same here. What were the Shadowlands, after all, but endless waking dreams that under the right conditions the strongest souls could enter at will?

She laughed aloud, smiling brightly, whipping away the few drops of blood that had oozed from the shallow nick she had suffered from those claws. For all she knew, in the heat of the moment, she might have cut herself. A nothing injury. No consequence at all.

The creature gazed at her, frozen in sudden confusion, and Jess seized the Vor. Roaring her contempt, her blade lashed out in a blur of steel and fury. She imagined herself controlling the dream. The creature but the slightest shadow of a worthy opponent; weak, clumsy, and slow. Its inhuman granite hard skin which had fooled her only momentarily was actually as weak and fragile as an old man's brittle flesh. With a terrible roar, her Oberhau strike smashed into the beast's skull.

For but a moment, the horror she faced did seem off-balance, or at least surprised, yet her blade rung and sparked as if it had struck a granite wall. Her Mittelhau slashes, aimed to tear through the flesh just under its flailing arms, likewise failed to penetrate. And powerful blows they all had been.

She snapped back into a defensive position, blade held at right shoulder, point squarely aimed toward the hissing creature's eye and she grimaced. Wondering why, figment of dream she knew this creature to be, she still couldn’t penetrate the hideous thing’s defenses.

Why couldn't she break through its magic wards?

It laughed. Caustic mad laughter causing the very ceiling to rumble, as if the groaning earth above would crush the suppurating infection that was this creature, a blight to realms real and dream alike.

Malek, still dazed, gazed upward and whimpered.

“Don’t worry, Malek,” Jess soothed her friend. “It’s just a dream. All a dream. This beast has no power over you, if you see it for what it is. Just a figment! An illusion! Only you can give it power over yourself!”

The creature hissed. “Is that what you think, mortal child? One glancing blow from my claw you have the resiliency to survive, because I wish it, and you think to know me? Lies! The power of my dark spirit is the greatest threat you will ever face, mortal. And it will be your utter doom!”

With that, the beast hissed a dark word of crimson power and Jess could feel the heat from the fiery javelin roaring toward her.

“Jess, Focus!” Twilight's desperation touching her very soul

Yet once again Jess felt as if she was outside herself, her spirit taking in the grander picture, and she took time to note the arcane matrix of dark fiery red chords anchoring that summoned javelin into this Shadowrealm, even as it streaked through the air toward her heart.

With a single fierce yank, Jess felt herself force multiple chords of crimson power out of alignment, and the fiery magma spear suddenly veered off, at right angles from all cardinal points, yanked out of their dimension entirely, the sundered spell abruptly rebounding upon the hideous creature now hissing in pain, rubbing its suddenly bleeding claws.

Jess smiled as her opponent stumbled back, burning eyes wide with disbelief.

“It makes sense, really," Jess calmly informed the beast as she oh so gently drew her razor-sharp sword against her cheek. The finest of cuts. Her heart shaped face, with its strong cheekbones, was the perfect place to draw blood, with the only minor drawback that it might leave a scar.

Jess smiled as the hideous thing that had viewed her with such gloating contempt now hissed and backed away. Her grin grew savage and wide as she approached the increasingly panicked demon, feeling a dark, almost sensual satisfaction as her blade tasted her own flesh. And in that moment, she felt curiously joined to this twisted realm.

For she was the reality within the dream.

The magic chords she touched she could yank free and even break. Her blade, like her armor, was, in a sense, no more real than the dream she walked through. Should she leave her sword here and forget it, like the silver tureens in the other room, it would no doubt fade to nothing when she left. Yet silver tureen or steel blade would both emerge as real as anything, should she travel back to the waking world with them in hand. So in one sense, everything in this realm, even the armaments she had brought, were no more real than the creature she faced.

Yet her blood was of her essence, as real as real could be.

And by coating her blade with her lifeblood, she forced it into vibrant existence, a deadly scalpel as real as she, the dreamer within the dream, with which to cut open the webs of illusion before her, and enforce her own reality upon whatever twisted nightmares she faced.

She chuckled darkly, imagining her blade slicing through the flesh of the hideous apparition she faced, cutting through the complex web of crimson chords that anchored it to this realm, like a marionette sliced free of its strings, its heart the ruby at its core.

What would happen, she thought with savage delight, when she sliced free all the anchors binding this monster to her dream?

Jess heard hissing and noted, to her amusement, that her own blood was gently etching her blade.

She gazed down the length of her sword upon the vile apparition she faced even as it hissed at her, eyes wild and furious, seeming to have regained its anger as it realized it could scrabble back no further, its panicked claws madly tearing into the stone wall its back was pressed against.

In a desperate act of defiance, the demon shrieked and cursed in tongues of madness and leaped for her, claws lashing out with wild fury.

Meeting the beast’s hate with her own icy wrath, Jess sprung forth, lashing out with the speed of a tightly wound spring, her blade slamming deep into the charging beast, and much to Jess’s grim satisfaction she felt it tearing through the creature's rotting flesh after the initial jolt of impact.

She ducked the creature’s madly slashing claws and rolled out from under it, even as she jerked her blade free with a terrible twist, hearing the monstrosity shriek as rotting intestines spooled out from the savage gut wound it had suffered.

Her foe stumbled back with a terrible hiss, Jess having disemboweled it entire.

“Well done,” Twilight commented quietly, even as the stink caused Malek to wretch and vomit uncontrollably.

“Impossible!” the creature hissed, grimly picking itself up on shaking legs, gripping its entrails with one hand, even as the other pointed accusingly at Jess. “You. You are not of the mortal realm! By what right, by what covenant, do you walk here? I abjure you, whatever you are! Leave the master’s lair, for you are not welcome here!”

Jess's laughter stung the creature with her contempt. Eyes filled with mounting terror, it almost seemed to whimper as Jess grimly strode forth, her blade almost casually resting upon her shoulder. "It's not about the flesh, is it, fell beast? We enter the realm of dreams not by our flesh, but by our souls. And yours is a twisted soul indeed." Jess's grin turned gleefully savage. "I think that it's time for me set your soul free, pustulent worm!"

In an odd epiphany, gazing deep into the burning pits of its eyes, Jess felt as if she glimpsed the innermost horrors of her enemy's mind. Hypnotized by the rising cadence of Jess’s words, so long it had been since it had heard another speak in the lilting tongue of madness, it huddled in a daze, even as Jess approached it, only noting in the last second that Jess was in striking distance, leaving the demon with no possible chance of fleeing before the face of its doom.

It raised its arms in desperate supplication, ruptured spools of innards dropped, backpedaling, even as it tripped over its own entrails in a desperate bid to get out from under Jess’s terrible bloodstained blade. Yet such was not to be.

With a sudden cry, Jess lashed out. Her longsword, held so casually but moments before, now tore through the air with impossible speed, instantly ripping through the beast in a terrible Zornhau strike, blood-soaked steel slicing through pustule-laden flesh that suddenly held no more substance than mist.

The shrieking beast’s cries were abruptly cut off; head and right arm effortlessly cleaved through with the angled strike, flesh and infernal protective magics sundered with equal ease, the force and fury of her blow having not slowed in the least even as her blade cleaved through the creature's heart, shattering the very pulsating ruby that had served as the demon's anchor to this realm before Jess’s smoking blade made its exit, having torn completely through the horror.

It ruptured into a screaming ball of crimson fire even as head and shoulder parted from torso, the brilliant crimson flames causing Malek to flinch and cry out, his cheeks and hands raised upright to protect eyes throbbing with pain. He groaned even as Jess shivered, feeling a connection to her shieldbrother in this realm of twisted dream unlike anything she had felt before. Yet when Malek's teary eyes stopped blinking, Jess could tell he was soothed to behold the concerned gaze of his shieldsister, even he grimaced at her still smoking armor, for all that her flesh and strangely crimson blade appeared unmarked, and none the worse for wear.

“Jess,” He whispered at last, when words came to him once more. “You did it. By the gods… you killed it!”

Jess smiled with relief, knowing Malek was going to be okay. “Yes, Malek. We defeated it. The bards will sing of our great battle this day.” She laughed lightly. “Assuming we can even remember it by the time we leave. Right kitty?”

Twilight yawned. "I, for one, had no doubt that you would triumph over such a pathetic excuse for a demon. Hardly more than an animated corpse, really. Now, should you ask nicely, and not stint on supplying your familiar with the choicest of morsels, perhaps I shall condescend to remember this Delve for you, should sleep otherwise carry away all recollection of this evening's adventures like the most ephemeral of dreams."

Jess laughed in delight. "We did it, Twilight!" She breathed deep, feeling a visceral sense of triumph. Of exhilaration. Filled with a wild vigor, she clenched the hilt of her sword in a grip tight and sure. She had never felt stronger than she did at that moment; never felt more alert, more aware her surroundings. She could sense every detail, from the fine grain of the bedrock they traversed, to the flickering remnants of crimson ash that were all that remained of the creature they had slain, to the scent of blood, ash, and entrails permeating the air. Laughing with delight, Jess didn't see how she could possibly forget the rush of elation she presently felt.

For all that she was lost in a dream, she had never felt more alive.

Jess gazed down at her friend, almost with sorrow. "Can you not feel it, Malek? In all our martial contests, in all of Highrock's grand melees, in all those savage raids Eloquin had us embrace in the dead of night, never has the sweet taste of victory, of just surviving, hit me this way.” She gave a trembling laugh. “Have you ever felt so alive, so connected before?"

Malek gazed at her in disbelief, still shaken after having come so close to his own end. Yet he found with a curious look of awe that he did feel good. Great, in fact. His chuckle was hesitant, but Jess could tell he also felt better.

Jess blinked, suddenly dizzy. It was almost as if she could feel what he felt, sense what he sensed, as if they were becoming two halves of a greater whole, odd as that sounded even to her ears.

"By the gods, Jess. Against all logic, I do feel good. Minus the throb from my wounds, I feel great, in fact. Energized. Like I just warmed up for sparring and had myself a good pot of tea in the bargain! If only my gut wasn't throbbing quite so much." He gasped then, and moaned. "Oh gods, Jess, I think I'm in trouble."

Those words instantly jarred Jess out of her euphoria of relief at a close battle well fought and triumphantly won. She peered carefully for the first time at her friend’s torso, throat dry with anxiety when she saw how bad the wound was. Malek had indeed taken serious injury when the creature had seemingly so casually smacked him away.

Jess hissed. For the briefest of moments, she felt his horrible pain, steadily worsening, as if the feelings were her own.

Jess fought against mounting panic. “Twilight, what do we do?”

His gaze was enigmatic. “Look within yourself, Jess. You already figured out the answer. But it is not for me to say. Not here. Not now. It is for you to understand for yourself.”

“Damn it, Twilight, you didn’t even fight!” Jess’s words burst forth before she could stop herself. She then gazed at her solemn looking familiar and sighed apologetically. “I’m sorry, Twilight, that wasn’t fair. It’s just that I need your help, not riddles!”

Her cat lay on his side, gazing at her intently while grooming himself. “No offense taken, Jess. And fear not. I will always be by your side, should you need me. But as we both saw, you were able to handle that demon all by yourself. And indeed, you needed to.”

Twilight’s gaze caught Jess’s and she found herself strangely quiescent. “You needed to figure out for yourself how best to defeat him. To see if you still had the strength and resilience to stand on your own two feet, face down your foes in mortal combat, and have both the resolve to do battle and the cleverness to understand how. And I see by your blade that you did indeed figure it out.” Her familiar gave an approving nod. “Well, you found at least one path among many; bloodier than most, but definitely a valid method for countering your foe’s strengths.”

Jess shook her head, blinking, breaking free of Twilight’s hypnotic gaze.

However gentle his intentions, she wanted her head clear and focused. “Don’t do that, Twilight. This isn’t about me, it’s about saving Malek! How do I help him? There is a way, isn’t there?”

Twilight just gazed at Malek and remained silent.

“Think, Jess, think!” she demanded of herself, even as Malek sighed, not so much in pain as tired and ready to sink into sleep. Alarmed, Jess knew intuitively that falling asleep in this place would be a very bad idea. “Wake up, Malek,” she demanded, smacking his cheek.

“What the hell?” His eyes flashed hot, before fading into a sheepish smile. “Oh, hi Jess. Damn. I was feeling so good a minute ago, but now I feel so tired.”

Jess thought furiously for what seemed an endless moment, ruthlessly pushing aside mounting worry for her shieldbrother, when it finally hit her. "We're just souls here, Malek." Her eyes glowed with sudden understanding. "Just spirit shells holding our bodies tight. I bet we can patch any injury we suffer, with just our wills alone, if we focus hard enough on it!"

Malek gazed at her cynically. “Really?”

Jess nodded emphatically. "Let me try." She gazed intently at the cut on her arm. Noting it had already crusted over, she found only pink skin underneath. Slightly tender, but whole. "Hmm… maybe I already did it unconsciously. Maybe, somehow, I can help you the same way."

And Jess gazed carefully at her friend, eyes unfocused, trying to see him as more than just her friend clad in matching armor, presently grimacing with barely suppressed pain as he held his gauntleted hands to a suppurating gut wound. Grimly, she forced herself to see beyond the pain and panic felt by her dying friend, to see who he was underneath the image.

She and Malek were not truly tied to their corporeal bodies in this, the strangest of all realms; the pair of them were just dreaming souls walking this land of Shadow and mystery.

And Jess blinked, her eyes catching the faintest glimmer. She focused again, and after some long moments she gasped as she beheld the secret of his very being. Like a beautiful cloth distilled with the essence of rainbows, she could sense the whole of his soul. It was indeed woven through him, every fiber, his physical body but a projection of his will. And she sensed that here, in Shadow, she had the capacity to resonate with his spirit to a degree impossible in the real world; each of their souls bare before the other, naked of all pretense, here in the realm of dreams.

Jess felt a tingle of exhilaration but didn’t let it distract her. For now, the real task was to begin.

She let her eyes slowly travel downward and gasped, seeing in that beautiful pristine shimmering cloth that comprised his soul a rotting blackness emanating from the gaping tear at his side. It was as if his wound had been poisoned; malignant corruption slowly eating his essence. – The fragile mask hiding the fiery cauldron of inconceivable death and destruction carefully hidden underneath – Jess shivered, grimly forcing away thoughts she dared not look at too closely, firmly focusing on the task at hand. The enemy at hand, that twisted darkness eating into his soul – It's gentle covering, the Malek she knew and loved.

Just gazing at it, she could sense how its dark resonance mirrored the fallen horror's perfectly. She could only imagine how potent the rotting poison would be if the creature were still alive. Even now, it was still sickening Malek's soul, forcing it to try to tear free of its fleshly moorings, to escape the pain of its torment through the oblivion of death. – Burning so brightly it could rupture the very stars, screaming through the midnight sky.

Jess grimaced and gazed carefully at the black corruption, her eyes sinking deep into it, until at last she could see the vile threads that twined together into the malignant whole. With grim focus, she touched the foulness with her finger, imagining herself spooling up all the winding filaments of that foul darkness, as if she were carefully gathering the strands of a rotten spider's web.

At first the threads of the black infection seemed to vibrate, as if seeking her sweet flesh to infect, before abruptly pulling away. As if it feared her.

Jess realized to her horror that it was on some level sentient. The remnants of a fallen soul twisted into rotting, seething hate. She hissed. Grimly, she forced the stuff of dream to obey her will, imagining herself snapping its weak resistance with her hot fury, visualizing spooling it all together, every last trace, every dark fiber that tried to bury itself deep into Malek's body, and with a grim tug that left Malek gasping and groaning, she pulled it free.

Malek gazed at Jess in shock. His expression was that of an exhausted man put through agony, forced to run miles at a sprint, and suddenly able to rest at last, feeling unutterable relief. He flinched and covered his ears as Jess began whispering alien words too hideous for his mind to bear, for the strangely familiar language taunted him with the glimmer of terrible memories slammed tightly shut, many years ago. Then the jarring, sibilant utterances stopped; the dark something in his shieldsister’s grip bursting into brilliant flame. And Malek was certain he heard it screaming.

Jess blinked and shivered, realizing for a moment she had glimpsed Malek's mind as he gazed at her and thought of her. How odd it was to see and hear herself utter words of malignant madness, while at the same time it all made perfect sense, the utterances no more alien to her than speaking an odd dialect she had somehow learned in childhood, yet hadn't had cause to speak in years.

Jess gently stroked her shieldbrother's trembling features as the last of the traces of the sentient foulness burned away to nothing. “It’s okay, Malek,” she smiled. “We cleaned out that infection, whatever it was. Now we just need to patch you up.” - Nothing could touch that. Nothing. And they had tried. Oh, so desperately, so long ago, they had tried...

Malek gazed at her apprehensively as she approached, and Jess felt her heart ache at his expression; like a once happy puppy suddenly flinching, afraid of being kicked. "It's okay," she soothed again, her eyes once more unfocused, and she saw the snapped and torn strands of his soul - must patch it up, now! - where the injury had occurred.

Almost effortlessly; far easier, actually, than gathering the sentient malignant slime had been, she gently sewed together the ripped fabric of his being. And Malek gasped as his body, being but a projection of his soul in this realm, immediately followed suit, appearing to spontaneously regenerate before their very eyes.

“Angels’ mercy!” Malek exclaimed in wonder. “You are like the greatest of healers, Jess. How did you do it?”

Jess just shook her head, grinning. “I just visualized sewing you up, is pretty much all I did. Remember, Malek, we are within the Dreamrealms. We can control what happens to us, if our wills are strong enough, just like we can in a lucid dream. So, if we visualize healing ourselves, then our wounds will close. Just an act of will and faith, pretty much, if we can master the trick of it.”

Malek sprung up, filled with the same energy and exhilaration that had infected Jess but moments ago, cracking his spine and laughing with relief. “By the gods, Jess. You did it! I owe you big time.”

Jess grinned, affectionately tapping his helmet. “Happy to sew you up, shieldbrother.” She took a deep breath, glowing with a sense of triumph. “We did it together, Malek. We’ve survived our first encounter with the foul denizens that reside here. Shall we go on with our journey into the bowels of this dark tower? See what treasures we can wrest from the fates in the telling of this, our own tale of adventure and glory?”

Malek chuckled. “Why not? You should definitely tell Josie about your trick, however, should she ever have to heal someone in the realm of dreams.”

Jess laughed, already making her way further down the dark passage. “Come on, I think I see something ahead!”

“Wait, Jess!” Twilight called, but his words went unheeded. With a curse, he leaped to Jess’s shoulder as she tore off down the hallway, at least along for the madcap ride.

“What is it?” Malek asked, catching up to his now racing friend. Jess smiled, caught in the grips of an excitement she could not name, feeling both exhilarated and compelled, her ears having caught the sonorous notes of a blue song of power that teased and taunted her; a song of sweetest temptation, caressing her soul with a visceral intensity she could hardly stand.

Her infectious grin soon caught hold of Malek, and together they raced, no longer pacing, but rather leaping forward, blades upraised, dashing down endless tunnels deep in the heart of a vast complex that made no sense, save in the logic of dreams.

Slowly, that wondrous song of sweetest power coalesced into a shimmering blue light she sensed just ahead. Jess blinked in awe as the light transformed with a blink into a shimmering portal, iridescent with an azure purity that took her breath away. It was like peering through the brilliant facet of a massive sapphire.

The mad compulsion that had enveloped her left as suddenly as it had come, though now it was replaced with a bold curiosity to discover whatever lay beyond. Impulsively, Jess peered within the face of that massive azure facet, though even then she was exquisitely careful about not touching the oddly shimmering panel directly.

“Jess, what has gotten into you? You are surrendering entirely to mad impulse. At least know the nature of what you are racing to confront!” Twilight scolded.

Utterly oblivious to her familiar’s admonishment, Jess peered through the great azure pane, gazing upon what appeared to be a great library below. Tomes lined multiple bookcases facing the vast walls of the massive chamber, even as the center was filled with numerous slabs of veined marble, showcasing what looked to be various wizardly artifacts resonating with ancient powers she couldn't even guess at until she had a closer look. To Jess, the room entire seemed to radiate an enticing corona of forbidden power.

Jess took a slow breath, stepping back, examining carefully the azure barrier before them. She realized it was not an actual gem facet at all, but rather appeared to be made of shimmering light. Malek was about to touch it when Jess abruptly blocked his questing hand with her own. “Be careful, brother. All is not as it seems.”

Malek frowned, but nodded. “Trap of some sort? Barrier?”

Jess was silent, her eyes appeared to be captivated by the glittering display of lights, every color of the rainbow flickering from within the depths of the blue prism. Malek sighed, as if lost himself under the hypnotic pull of the strangely seductive magic.

After some moments of careful concentration, Jess emitted a short, sharp battle cry even as her blade lashed out, shattering the blue prism before them like a fragile pane of finely carved glass.

Malek grunted in momentary surprise, then gave a satisfied nod. “So, all we needed to do was to give it a good sharp blow then. Good to know.”

Jess smirked. “More or less.” She chose not to bore him with the details of the many minutes she had spent staring deeply into its depths, resisting its harmonic pull as she strove to uncover the deep strands of power, carefully hidden, that ran through it. When she finally summoned her will, it was as if she had to fight against a terrible crushing weight, almost paralyzed by strangely seductive apathy, finding it a struggle even to move for that first awful moment. She wouldn’t say Twilight’s claws had been necessary, as her throbbing earlobe might attest, but it certainly hadn’t hurt.

Her blade, when she had lashed out with it to shatter the azure panel, had seemed to stretch impossibly far, in directions alien and bizarre, to slice the subtle silvery threads so carefully hidden within that dreadful enchantment blocking their entrance to the great library below.

Her first blow had, in fact, missed completely. She had blushed fiercely, afraid of her companion’s mocking laughter, only to see him utterly under the spell of the glimmering prism before them. That alone had alarmed and refocused her resolve. It had, in fact, alarmed her enough that despite knowing the sharp sting would ache, she had deliberately recut her cheek, coating her blade with fresh hot blood, almost swearing she could hear it hiss against the metal before she cleaved forth once more, this time to slice through the arcane chords effortlessly, the construct entire shattering as if it had been but a single great pane of glass.

And just beyond the shattered pane was a short drop to the floor of the massive chamber. It was an easy enough descent for battle-trained Squires of War, their rawhide boots kissing the ground, their bodies absorbing the impact of the drop in a fluid roll, twin blades unsheathed once more as Jess and Malek proceeded to explore the great book-laden chamber, sticking close, side by side, instinctively covering each other from unknown threats.

“Wow,” Malek said, his awe matching Jess’s sentiments completely. She gasped upon catching sight of numerous volumes upon the shelves radiating powers foul and exotic, as well as spying potent artifacts lying upon darkly shimmering tables, somehow sensing the nature of their arcane contents in this odd realm of darkest dreams. She no longer had to work to see chords of power, Jess realized. The resonances of their forgotten lore and the dark powers contained therein seemed to shimmer from the very tomes and artifacts themselves.

Teasing Jess with ancient secrets, lost knowledge, and forbidden lore.

Malek whistled in bemused wonder. “Look at these tomes, Jess. Vaster than Rens’s own library.”

Jess nodded absently. “Agreed. Let’s scout out the room first, then explore. Twilight?”

Her cat leaped to his accustomed perch, a comforting weight upon her shoulder. “I sense no one in this chamber directly, but remember Jess, this chamber and the treasures within, however strongly they resonate with you, are still but the stuff of dreams. Things could change unexpectedly. It is best if we remain close.”

Jess nodded her agreement. A cursory check revealed no obvious enemy, merely two closed doorways. The smaller one constructed of ancient oak, the other a massive affair seemingly constructed of a single vast piece of iron, bolted from the inside. The sheer weight of the great block of metal took her breath away. It was a magnificent feat of engineering, the great iron door and its reinforced frame, crafted expertly in place such that it appeared to blend as one with the great basalt blocks that made up the vast study chambers.

Jess whistled her appreciation. “Unbelievable! Truly they were master craftsmen back in the days this tower was constructed. Either that, or it was an incredible feat of magic.”

Malek nodded. “Iron is one of the toughest substances to work one’s will upon. Far easier to blast an armored foe with lightning and let the metal work for you than trying to manipulate iron and steel directly. That doorway itself would be a masterwork, whether it be enchanter or blacksmith that forged it, constructed so as to fuse seamlessly with the great walls making up the archway. To say nothing of any enchantments it may possess.”

“And it does contain a few," Jess admitted. "Well, we know our ancestors were beings of power, that's for sure."

Malek shook his head. “Unless of course, like your familiar suggests, this is all little more than imagined figments of a reality that could have been, lost in the Dreamrealms. For all we know, it’s just some apprentice smith's fever-dream.”

“That's not quite what I meant, young Malek," Twilight interjected. "Rather, this realm of shadows carries within it the memories of all the magics, enchantments, wonders, and horrors that had resonated so strongly through the bones of this great tower, back when it had stood in mundus for all those centuries. Now those very memories resonate directly within the living dream we currently inhabit. It will all shift and warp, but by its very nature it will always morph back into that which was, and which might come again."

Malek nodded. “In that case, yes. Somehow, they managed a miracle in forging this feat of ironwork smack in the middle of this massive tower, or are we now in the heart of the mountain itself, do you think?”

Jess shook her head, for the first time feeling uncertain. “Didn’t we start this adventure at the top of a hill? How did we end up in the heart of a mountain?”

Malek shrugged. “Why are we worrying about petty geography? Jess, we are here! In the heart of the great tower itself, with lost tomes and ancient magics displayed all around us!” He laughed in delight. “We are safe for the moment, no? Less speculation, more exploration. Come, sister. Let us see what treasures await our perusal.”

Jess chuckled. “Assuming we can even read the ancient script our ancestors used, by all means. Let us peruse these tomes.”

With a sense of delicious anticipation, Jess and Malek both made a beeline for the various shelves, both finding themselves striding toward a pair of particularly intriguing books their hands yearned to grasp. They didn’t question the compulsion, simply reached out to clasp the carefully worked leather tomes that seemed to call out so invitingly for their touch.

Jess found her eyes sliding to the slim tome bound in red leather Malek had chosen, opening it up gently, reverently, only to frown upon glancing at the pages of finest vellum, Jess noting the angular script the color of rust.

Her shieldbrother's eyes blazed with frustration. He began to slam the tome down in frustration when his fingers brushed gently against the words. His gasp was clearly audible as he stumbled back, his expression the odd surprise of a man overwhelmed, his expression turning beatific as he gently collapsed and began seizing.

“Malek!” Jess cried in alarm, her own unopened tome falling to the ground, exquisite writing flickering through the air before landing unceremoniously on its side, and for the moment it was forgotten as Jess rushed to her friend’s aid. “Malek, what happened? Breathe easy, I have you.”

She gently removed his helmet and held him close as a fit of palsy overwhelmed him. His features were locked in a terrible grimace, agony and ecstasy coursing through him in waves as his body shuddered and palsied. When his eyes opened they were red rimmed and mad.

“I understand, Jess. I see it. I finally see!” Malek began to gurgle and Jess quickly swiped his mouth, clearing his tongue so he could breathe easy. His muscles tensed up and with a final spasm he collapsed in her arms, breathing at last the deep slow breath of utter exhaustion.

“By the gods, Twilight!” Jess exclaimed. “What did that tome do to him?”

Twilight slowly made his way to Malek, casually sniffed him once, then the tome. “Ah. Bloodmagic.” He sighed. “It is an old magic, from before the divide of celestial and infernal powers. Not evil, yet it is not the silver purity of moonbeams caressing a midnight garden either. For power and fury, not ethics, is the paradigm within which it resonates. Among the most primal of arts, there is a cost to its use. That tome has been here for ages, I suspect. Look at Malek’s hand. His fingers are nicked, and all it took was a drop of blood upon the page, and language was suddenly no longer a barrier.”

Jess nodded. She and Malek had both taken off their gauntlets of boiled rawhide in order to better access the tomes and valuables before them, and their cuts and scrapes would be a perfect entry point for blood magics, even that possessed by an ancient tome lost for thousands of years. She glared at the book.

“Ease your wrath, my queen. It is just a tome of knowledge, like any other, and by its very nature it can communicate its lore by more than one path. And Malek, like no one else, was open and ready, hungry for any scrap of power he could find to elevate himself from the grim mediocrity that torments him.”

Jess shook her head. “But Malek is fine, just as he is. At least he has some arcane power. What possible reason can he have for feeling so insecure?”

“It is not for you to judge, Jess," Twilight gently scolded. "You yourself, gifted in swordcraft and the lore of growing things; fit, hale, and beautiful, cherished by your family, with the potential for a sweet and secure life ahead of you, are blissfully free of the pain and struggle that is the lot of so many. Yet here you are, risking, for all you know, your very soul, deep in the bowels of an ancient tower lost for centuries in the Shadowrealms."

“You’re right, Twilight.” Jess said, chastened by her familiar’s reprimand, stroking his silky fur. His chastisement stung all the deeper for being so blisteringly accurate, bludgeoning through any rebuttal she might retort with the weight of its undeniable truth.

Jess gave a wry shake of her head. "It doesn't matter what another thinks of your lot in life. Even if they see your cup as overflowing, when you hunger for more than to dance to the tune of another, nothing else rings like the clarion call of your deepest desires made manifest, embodying true power, true freedom, all other considerations paling before that."

Twilight nodded. "At least you understand. Even if this time we go to our doom, at least you are aware of the passions that drive you, the choice you have made. Besides, our dear Malek has simply found the key to unlocking that which was sealed away from him long, long ago."

Jess frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Never you mind, Jess. That is part of his tale, ancient and terrible, much like your own.” Twilight flashed Jess a cool smile even as she blinked, nonplussed. “Just promise me you’ll at least be honest with yourself, whatever path you take.”

“Of course," Jess said, giving her familiar an affectionate pat, sensing that no matter what path through life she took, she would always be able to share her true self with her cat, for her Twilight would never judge. "Will Malek be okay?"

“Soon enough, he will recover. How well his mind can master the magics he seeks to embrace this time around, we shall soon see. In the meantime, let him rest. I sense that in this great library, as in few other places within Shadow, your souls shall not stray, should either of you drift into meditation. But fear not, you won’t fall completely asleep in this chamber. Quite simply, you can’t.” Twilight yawned, his butting head gently insisting Jess continue to rub his fur with her gentle fingers that knew him so well. And Jess spent some time gently stroking him, the soothing rhythm of her movements soon lulling her into a tranquil state that was almost, but not quite, sleep.

52

Jess, wake up!” Quick as a flash, Jess lurched up, sword flashing out to stop inches from a shocked looking Malek.

“What's wrong with you, Jess? It's just me!"

“Oh gods, I’m sorry, Malek.” Jess flushed in embarrassment. “I wasn’t sleeping anyway,” she mumbled. “Just… meditating. Right, kitty?”

Malek flashed her a bemused grin. "It's all right. You seemed to have dozed off there for a minute, but we'll call it meditating, if you like. Anyway, look at this tome I found!" Jess examined the volume in question, getting a better look at vertical rows of crimson symbols flowing down the pages. She felt the magic brooding deep within, dark and potent.

“Can you understand it?” Jess gazed at her friend.

Malek tilted his head. “It’s strange, Jess. I know for a fact I’ve never seen a book like this before. These symbols should mean nothing to me. Yet I somehow sense that if I just stare at it long enough, it will all start to click into place.”

Jess shrugged and smiled. “Then keep it, my friend. I have no doubt it’s a potent work, and perhaps in some dreamlike way it was meant for you. One thing’s for sure, if you don’t take it, as like as not all its mystery and lore will just fade back into the Shadows from which this keep came.

Malek smiled and nodded. “I like the way you think, Jess. Come, let us look for some other choice treasures.”

With that he strode toward the table closest to the bookcase his tome had come from, and Jess noted with some bemusement the way his eyes lit up as he grasped hold of a small box, gently plucking several silvery globes from within, rolling them in his palms with some wonder.

“He looks happy," Jess sighed, still finding herself caught in a gentle reverie, feeling increasingly in tune with this strange realm of living dream.

It was as if her awareness was slowly connecting her to the ebb and flow of the vast structure’s own matrix of resonating power. She fancied that with time, she would become perfectly synchronized with the great tower, and who knew what consequences that would bring? Horrific or wondrous, there was no way to know.

She grinned at the thought, feeling fey indeed, when the tome she had dropped caught her eye once more. Strangely, it seemed to call out to her. And the subtle sweet promise of powers terrible and potent caressed her with its enticing whispers, drawing her forward. Gently, teasingly, the book’s sweet potential spoke to the darkest corners of her mind, awakening hungers vast and terrible.

Jess felt, in some strange way, like a girl who had fallen for the drink, and hard. A redeemed girl who had somehow forced away the wicked flask of sweetest vice after it had spelled its tale of grief and woe. Yet deep in her heart she was always hungering for, always craving, that heady sip of potent bliss.

To be faced with this enticing, seductive tome was as if she had somehow forgotten those terrible cravings, only to be presented with a tall chilled carafe of ruby wine that called to her with the honey-laden promise of a lover's whisper. Dark, unholy power. Sweet screams of bliss and madness. Crying out to seep through her veins once more.

Jess froze. Momentarily startled by how strong the seductive pull was. She blinked and gazed carefully at the black leather tome, but even her carefully probing eyes sensed no arcane traps, nothing but the dull throb of powerful eldritch lore trapped in symbolic form. Simply an ancient work, waiting for the right student to embrace its secrets once more.

Giving herself an abrupt shake, Jess took a disciplined breath and proceeded to reach for the book, curious, despite her best judgment, desiring to at least touch her awareness upon this work that for a flash had awoken such a dark and terrible hunger within her.

As she reached for the book she lurched back in surprise. Twilight himself was suddenly hovering over the tome, his eyes freezing her where she stood.

“I swore long ago to never interfere with the choices you make, Jezabelle. And for a very long time I have held true to that promise. For there is no greater power than freedom, and nothing strengthens the fabric of this Realm than the constant reaffirmation to continue its existence. Each time you affirm your original choices, each time you make the sacrifice to accept your mortal fate, no matter how seductively dark promises would tempt you, you strengthen the fabric of all you hold dear.” Her familiar slowly lifted himself up off the book and padded away. His eyes still held Jess frozen where she stood.

“But I warn you, Jess, of all the choices you might make, opening this book, exploring its secrets, learning its temptations, would put your soul in peril like never before. Before you open those pages of human skin and unimaginable pain, ask yourself this: Are you truly ready to risk all you ever held dear, for all these years?”

He sighed and shook his head, releasing Jess from the power of his gaze. “It is up to you, Jess. As it always was.”

And still the book called out to her. How terrible, really, could knowledge be? A tool, wasn’t it? A path of power. And so rich and sweet would it be, to understand dark lore beyond the comprehension of all those who stood beneath her. Power, to embrace. Power, to rule. Jess’s grin was cold and she could feel the sweet hunger to savor its secrets. A hunger that tempted her, that stroked her passions and ate at her, even as her mind froze with horror at what she was about to do, her fingers but inches from those terrible pages, registering at last the true significance of her familiar’s solemn warning.

With a furious cry, she chose at last to make contact with the tome, smashing her foot into it with all her pent up frustration, sending it sailing across the room to smack into the far wall. Jess almost thought she could hear a voiceless scream, and smiled in grim satisfaction.

She flashed her familiar a shaky grin. "What the hell were you talking about, Twilight? How will reading a damn book destroy all I love? No, wait, I almost, almost don't want to know. Are there any other dark tomes of Hell here, waiting to tempt me? Is there anything I can safely touch here without it spelling doom for the entire world?"

Her laughter was a shaky thing, meant in jest, covering her own terror at the temptation that had crawled through her like the darkest of desires. The deadliest of poisons. She had been hungrier for the caress of that book than she had ever been for the sweet touch of any boy or girl. And it sickened her to her core.

Twilight's smile was enigmatic, but she sensed he was pleased. “Only one tainted apple on this tree of knowledge, Jess, though I fear much of the lore here would still weigh heavily upon your soul. Come, Jess. Let us to leave this library. Its pull is a seductive, dangerous thing, and best we allow it to be swallowed by this realm of Shadow forevermore.” Twilight sighed. “It is a fortunate thing indeed that the tome you faced is a unique work, only able to plague you once in a lifetime.”

Jess shook her head. "One day I will figure out what the hell you are talking about." frowned, gazing about the vast, shadowy chamber with increasingly suspicious eyes. "I'm not even interested in playing with any more of the toys in here. Gods above know what doom will be unleashed with the next tome I touch. Let's just get the hell out."

She gazed at her companion, presently giving her a curious, puzzled glance, having seen her smash a tome across the great library in a bizarre bout of fury. “Everything okay, Jess?”

“Yes, it's fine. I just have to leave. I don't feel so safe in here anymore."

Malek shrugged and grinned. "No worries, sister. Take a look at this!" He held for her perusal a brilliantly sparkling necklace and matching pair of rings within a felt lined box of hardwood, and Jess could sense a steady stream of energies throbbing within.

She nodded approvingly. “Enchanted, no doubt.”

“I know!” he said happily, “but that’s not the best part, check out this!” He gently lifted from the discrete little box two silvery orbs of modest size, letting them rotate within the palm of his hand. Yet Jess realized that they were not rotating by dint of fine muscular control, but rather by the force of his will alone. She gasped in awe, making out at last the faint lines of crimson power that linked the orbs to Malek, even as the silvery balls slowly lifted from his palm to rotate lazily around his head.

Malek tensed his brow, and Jess could feel him feeding the orbs with a red surge of power that was unlike any of the azure magics that resonated with most of the casters at the college. Faster and faster the pair of orbs spun, faintly whistling through the air. “I think these must be a defensive ward of some kind, and look! It doesn’t interfere with my blade!”

He slowly unsheathed his longsword and the orbs changed their orbit so as not to interfere with the graceful flow of his movements as he executed a deft series of feints and slashes. Jess prudently stepped a few paces back nonetheless, yet the orbs effortlessly avoided his person and, by extension, all that he held, even as they spun ever faster about the crown of his head.

Malek’s grin mirrored her own as she applauded. “Bravo, Malek! Nicely done.”

The orbs slowly stopped rotating, falling to rest in his palm once more. “Fantastic, right? And I only feel the faintest bit of fatigue when I activate them. I think maybe these could be pretty useful when we leave here.” He turned to gaze back at the heart of the library once more. “Are you sure you don’t want to grab anything, Jess? This might be our only chance.”

Jess sighed, and deliberately looked behind her, in the opposite direction as the dark tome she had kicked so hard, delivering herself from temptation. Her eyes suddenly widened and she grinned.

“Maybe I’ll grab something, after all.” Deliberately she strode toward a locked case in the far wall that she was oddly certain hadn’t been there even moments ago. In it she spied a mannequin wearing a hauberk of silvery mail falling well below mid-thigh. Elegant, beautiful, not a speck of tarnish or rust marred its elegant weave. She could hear Malek grunt approvingly behind her, though her familiar looked oddly disconcerted.

Twilight frowned. “That was not here before, useful remnant that it is. What games are being played here?”

“Jess, look out for traps!” Malek cautioned, even as Jess’s hand gently reached out for the clasp to the glass case holding that masterwork shirt of mail. She nodded thoughtfully and gazed carefully at the glass case. The whole thing throbbed with a gentle silvery essence that resonated strangely to Jess. Yet sensing no malice for all its strangeness, she shrugged and simply opened the glass pane, giving a satisfied nod when nothing untoward occurred, even as she gently reached in and pulled free the shimmering shirt of mail.

“By the gods, what is that made of?" Malek's voice was hushed in awe, so captivating he seemed to find the silvery mail.

Jess gently stroked the fine links. They were of no metal she could recognize, but felt incredibly hard, the shirt about the same weight as a similar hauberk of iron. She gave an impressed whistle when she found that neither gentle nicks nor serious thrusts of her dagger to the links would mar the exquisitely forged armor in the least, only dulling the blade itself, which was of highest quality steel.

With a cheerful laugh, Jess impulsively took off her helm and donned the shimmering hauberk, the ancient mail tight against her formfitting armor, but like any good mail shirt it was utterly accommodating, made by design to ward off the bite of steel while padding underneath absorbed the force of the blow.

Malek whistled his appreciation. “It must have been made for a potent figure indeed. I can't believe it fits over your armor so well. Honestly, Jess, you look like an ancient Paladin of Justice stepping out of the story books of legend!” Malek slowly shook his head in wonder. “By the gods, that shirt looks like it could be made of mithril!”

Jess quirked her brow, gazing quizzically at Malek. “Mithril?”

Her companion laughed. “Have you never heard the ancient tales of mithril armor? Magically forged artifacts made of the bones of dragons at the hands of ancient elven smiths, able to turn aside the might of any blade or spell?”

Jess shook her head. “Nope. But then again, my father never was one for tales outside the nursery. I’ll have to hear about it later. Hmm… a shirt made of dragon bone. That would be epic!” She laughed heartily. “Whatever it is, it is about the weight of steel, and my knife cannot nick it, so it’s a worthy edition to my war chest.”

Malek grinned. “And now we’re both rich! Come sister, let’s leave this room. I’m with you, this place is starting to give me the creepies.”

Jess nodded solemnly. It was as if they had come to a crossroads of sorts. As if with their choices the great room’s purpose had been met, and even as they stared, it seemed almost as if the massive dome was now stretching vast and wide in all directions, great shadows hiding the far corners and bookcases in brooding darkness.

Jess shivered, blinking. She no longer felt welcome there. “Come, Malek. Let’s make our way forth.”

He nodded and the three of them approached the great iron door, the massive structure radiating supernatural potency. “Bloody hells, Jess. Even I can tell that thing is crackling with enchantments. What if we can’t get through?”

Jess peered at it carefully, then smiled, odd bits of insight clicking into place. "It's okay, Malek. It's not here to ward against us. Besides, we're going out, not in." With that, she methodically resecured the ties to her helm and gauntlets as they prepared to venture further into the unknown.

With Malek stopping only long enough to summon forth the power of the silvery orbs once more, they stood shoulder to shoulder, pushing open the door in unison. Perfectly balanced by unseen counterweights, the massive doorway opened with the slightest touch.

Jess felt her soft breath steam before her, so bitingly cold the corridor they entered was. She shivered. “By Winter's frigid breath, it feels like we've stepped into an ice house.”

Malek nodded in agreement, and they almost didn’t hear the faint click of the forgotten library vault closing behind them with a metallic clang. Malek gazed once apprehensively, and Jess sighed, catching his eye and shaking her head.

“Now you know without even trying that the door will never open to us again, right?”

Malek chuckled slightly as he shivered. “Yes, it does seem to be that kind of story. We are traversing the realm of dreams and legend, after all.”

Cautiously, they made their way through vast corridors made of perfectly cut marble stone veined with shimmering silver, terminating many yards over their heads as if the massive tunnels had been made for far grander creatures than mere man. The roof was lined with shimmering pale stones that glowed like stars in miniature, dimly lighting their way.

The corridors seemed to go on forever. Jess felt herself slip into an odd sort of trance as they made their way down endless passageways, despite her familiar's earlier warnings.

It was then that Jess heard the faintest of screams.

Her heart started to hammer, despite how far they seemed to be from the voices echoing through the winding maze they now found themselves within. Without knowing how she knew, Jess understood at once that those voices belonged to people familiar and dear to her.

“Malek?” she softly whispered.

He turned to face her, gaze as grim and troubled as Jess’s anxious heart. “I know. It makes no sense, but I know. Those are our friends. Bloody hells!”

Far colder than the frigid air was the terrible certainty that something horrific was stalking those they loved. As one, they went from careful walk to paced jog.

“Jess!” Malek’s voice was sharp, urgent. “What do we do?!”

Jess squeezed his gauntleted hand tight within her own. “We trust our gut. This way!”

It wasn’t knowledge so much as sudden instinct that caused Jess to abruptly pull them from the main cavernous tunnel to a side path near hidden in shadow. The arched roof rose barely above their helmets, the dark corridor only wide enough for them to proceed one at a time. A not unexpected weight leaped upon her, and Jess could feel Twilight wrap himself with perfect balance upon his favorite perch, far too graceful and cognizant ever to interfere with her combat prowess when needed.

“Faster.” Was all Twilight said, but Jess nodded. Her steady jog turned into a ground eating sprint. She did not question the exhilarating sense of vitality that had begun coursing through her since that first terrible encounter, so stoked on combat and fighting for their lives they had been. She only now realized that heady rush had never quite left her. She felt, curiously, as if she could run at this pace forever, and she could tell by his steady breath that Malek must feel the same.

Jess chose not to question her ability to sense the silvers and grays of her surroundings, perfectly visible, though there was no longer any source of light to be found in this crevice so deep underground. She knew only that they would soon come upon a ledge overlooking a massive chasm, some thirty feet wide, unimaginably deep. Deep enough perhaps, to send one spinning down to very pits of Hell.

Jess laughed. She had never felt so exhilarated in all her life.

“Malek! Chasm ahead! Thirty feet! Can you jump it?”

“Hell yeah!” Her shieldbrother laughed, infected by the same heady euphoria.

And suddenly the narrow corridor widened into an incredibly vast cavern opening up before the massive chasm she had sensed, lit by sparkling crystals and moss glowing upon the roof of the chamber far overhead, and Jess felt herself blasting forward from the very edge of the precipice, having launched off perfectly, as if she had performed the same feat a dozen times before, flying in a graceful arc across the howling chasm to land with catlike grace upon the far side, Twilight instinctively leaping off her as she dove into a roll before snapping upright to her feet once more.

“Damn it!” This from Malek, Eyes twin mirrors of exhilaration and terror as he launched himself across, Jess snapping out her hand to grab his own as the lower portion of his body slammed hard against the edge of the precipice, causing him to gasp and look down at the howling winds shrieking in the darkness below. Jess swallowed down her own sudden terror as her eyes joined his, gazing into the abyss that had almost claimed her shieldbrother's life, before pulling him up and out with an abrupt heave.

“By all the gods… that hurt.” He wheezed for several moments, and Jess touched him gently, sensing no internal rupturing of his essence, or snapping of bones. He was momentarily winded, but that was all. He laughed. “Good catch, shieldsister. I would have hated dragging myself from the ledge, assuming I could have hung on after slamming into it. You are one strong girl, you know that?”

She laughed with relief, sinking to his side, squeezing him tight. “I’m as strong as they come, Malek. You know I’ll pit my skills against anyone who dares throw down the gauntlet! I'm just glad you're okay. Had you fallen in, I'd have had to jump in right after you! Gravity itself we would bend to our will, if it helped us survive this dream."

Malek chuckled. "To think you might actually try to come for me and twist the very laws of nature, should I have fallen into that horror. You're completely mad, shieldsister. Just one of the things I love about you." Their momentary relief transformed once again to apprehension as they heard screams once more, this time much closer.

She quickly righted herself before gripping Malek's arm, pulling him to his feet as well. “Are you okay, brother? Can you still fight?”

He coughed once but nodded. “Damn right I can. As you said earlier, I’ve never felt so alive, never felt so energized! That blow to my torso hurt, but it’s not going to slow me down. We must have sprinted for miles, but I feel like I could run forever.”

Jess nodded and picked up the pace one more. On and on they dashed through the winding tunnels, guided by no more than Jess’s strange intuition and the echoing sounds of the panicked shouts they heard, finding themselves at last before a massive door, made of stout birch and covered with dark red sigils that stunk of blood and feces.

“By all the hells. Necromancy!” Malek hissed. And Jess grimly nodded, a flicker at the corner of her eyes causing her to turn around.

Jess gasped. “What games of sorcery are being played, Twilight?”

Malek spared Jess an apprehensive gaze before turning around. “The path behind us, it's gone!”

And Twilight hissed in displeasure. “Open the door before us, Hound. We don’t have time to dally!” For back the way they came was nothing but a wall of blinding fog, yet even the outline beyond spoke of a great room they had never crossed, as questing white tendrils of mist slowly crept towards them.

Jess grimly shook her head, turning once more to the door. She peered intently at the twisted bloody runes, delving deep into their essence, seeking out the faint chords of power that must lay within, so that with but a single cleave she could slash through their enchantments entire, instantly springing any arcane traps. She swallowed, dreading the thought of embracing whatever horrors were locked within that poor, tormented wood that she would have to endure before she could coax the door comprised as much of dream as tree to let them past.

“Jess, I think I understand.” This from a strangely hesitant Malek, who nonetheless slowly drew a sigil of his own blood on top of the largest of the tainted runes imprinted upon the door.

Jess gasped in surprise, ready to pull her friend away.

The overlapping sigils suddenly erupted in white hot flame. The door itself began to smoke, bursting inward at last in an explosion of scorched timber.

“By the hells…” Jess muttered, gazing at her friend in surprise, but then the terrible tableau taking place in the heart of the massive chamber before them instantly commanded all her attention.

The chamber before her was madness.

Within it lay the vast ruins of a wizard’s laboratory. Overturned tables, smashed chairs and tipped over bookcases, tomes strewn about the great floor in a haphazard mess were everywhere. The room stank of the caustic stench of overturned beakers spewing unnameable contents to hiss and sizzle upon the vast concrete slabs of the floor. But what truly caught the eye was the hideous scene taking place in the very center of the room.

Jess gasped in horror. Master Rens and his dozen protégé’s were not only within that awful chamber, but struggling for their very survival.

Jess realized that she now witnessing the great arcane ritual from the other side, having burst at last upon the very room Rens had been so keen on viewing through the mists of Shadow, harnessing those many students in a ritual to fuel and open the gate.

The spell, it appeared, was a great success. And simultaneously, a terrible trap.

For before the grim-featured Rens and a dozen panicked students, their faces masks of utter terror as they desperately struggled to maintain their magic wards, were a half dozen wraith-like figures cackling and howling, doing all they could to disrupt Master Rens's protective magics. The foul apparitions thrust their own rotting hands into the rainbow hued magical wards between them and the students, dark crackling energies tearing into the wards.

Jess caught sight of one wraith's sizzling hands actually bursting through the college wards in a shower of sparks, and with a savage wrench the hideous creature yanked one of the desperately screaming students right off her feet, pulling her through the failing magics and into that chamber of living death and nightmare.

Manic laughter echoed through the chamber as the foul revenant savagely wrenched the girl’s arms behind her, shoving her forward like a prize, savoring her agonized screams as several other revenants closed in, as if all were eager for a taste of the terrified student shrieking for her life.

And then Jess was struck by a bolt of horror that rocked through her, recognizing the soft brown eyes and gentle smile that had touched her heart with sweetest friendship since her first days at Highrock, her screams spearing Jess's very soul.

"Oh, by Heaven's grace, that's Josie!" Malek gasped.

It was then that Jess spotted a figure cloaked in darkest shadow, raising a smoky finger to the protective sphere, eyes like burning embers glaring at the panicked students within.

Its words slithered in the mind like maggots festering in a dying man’s wounds. Like torn fingernails desperately clawing against the pitiless planks of a beggar’s coffin, the last spasms of a man buried alive.

“Your magical wards mean nothing, mortal! Your pupils shall fall, screaming, one by one. It is only a matter of time before I suck the marrow from your living corpse and savor the bitter fruits of your power. Now behold the terror of your inevitable fate as we rip the flesh from the bones of the lamb before us." The hideous apparition's laughter was the choking rattle of a plague victim. "I shall feast upon her blood and terror, even as your own fear brings you ever closer to the doom that awaits you!"

“This is madness!” Rens cried futilely. “Why do you wish to slay these students? You were once a part of this college! You were once one of us, renowned for your knowledge and wizardry!”

The shadowy creature raised one twisted, blackened hand, and his minions grew still, even as they flocked around a panicked, shrieking Josie, all of them grinning like half-starved jackals, ready to feast upon her struggling form. Their savage brutality was all the more disturbing for the shirts of ancient rusted chain and sheathed swords worn by half their number, as if to show the savage demonic depths that former knights could fall to, in heeding their most bestial desires.

The hideous shadow exhaled a dry laugh that echoed strangely through the chamber, transforming somehow to the shrieks of dying children. "Foolish mage, do you still not understand? The rumors, the whispered secrets, the newly discovered tomes that hinted at treasures to be found in the depths of a laboratory lost within the dream of Regio? Ah, my pitiable victim, you who walk in the shallowest footsteps of the great path through destiny which I tread. It was a lure! All of it! Shadowy clues to entice fresh prey through realms of dream and madness, to the true bitter end that their fate requires. In service to my dark destiny, and mine alone!"

The creature's voice became an awful taunt, syllables scuttling like cockroaches crushed underfoot. "Fear not, prey. Yours is not the first group of foolish dreamers to stumble upon my lair. When the horror of this day has passed, and I have chosen my new apprentice from the sweetest of your soon to be butchered students, I shall reforge her into a creature of my making. And she alone will be fit to serve me, even as she revels in the sweet agony that is living death!"

The terrible being turned to face his minions once more. "Begin."

53

Josie!" Time seemed to twist and stretch as the horror of Josie's imminent death roared through Jess. A desperate scream she cried, knowing there was no way she could possibly arrive by Josie's side in time.

And suddenly, somehow, she was crashing into those vile monsters, shrieking her fury even as her blood covered blade seemed to blaze to life. The closest pair of vile revenants that had been just a heartbeat from feasting upon Jess's beloved friend were cut down in the hot blinding instant it had taken Jess to whip her longsword through their rotting flesh, cleaving through their spines before they could blink, unarmored and unprepared for her onslaught as they had been, utterly focused upon their prize.

She roared and howled, fighting with a beserker's fury, sowing instant dissension in her enemy's ranks even as a third fell to her blade. Yet the undead warrior she now faced; armed, armored, and more than ready to test her blade, gave Jess terrible pause.

The beast grinned and Jess beheld its rotting face, yellow-grey eyes, and elongated blackened teeth. In a frisson of horror, Jess realized she recognized that monstrous countenance. At least, who he had been before his utter corruption of flesh and spirit.

Ubel Niedrig. His once massive body now a feast of writhing worms and putrid flesh, crackling with hideous power. Jess could all but sense the terrible strength coiled within those rotted limbs. It stunned Jess to realize that until that very moment, she had forgotten his entire existence. She had forgotten his malevolent taunts, how he had goaded and threatened Mord and Sable both, the awful chamber deep in the bowels of Highrock where he had enacted his awful sacrifices, children shrieking in terror as they were consumed by living Shadow.

Only now did it all come flooding back to her, catching sight of Ubel's eyes, eerily the same in death as they had been in life, glaring so malevolently back at her. It was an epiphany of horror, an awareness come by in a flash so quick that not a moment had passed, but Jess suddenly remembered a whole chapter of her life gone missing.

His mocking smile, that awful, leering, dead-eyed grin was enough to send Jess shaking with a sudden horrific awareness, desperately backpedaling even as her enemy circled her. His strength had been hideous in life, and only now was it clear the price he had paid for such awful potency.

In the moment of her greatest horror, the corpse that had once been Ubel seized the Vor, launching himself at her, blade lashing out for her skull even as Jess desperately spun away, countering with a snapping strike to his left temple he adroitly dodged, his hideous laughter the sound of cockroaches crushed underfoot. He charged forth once more with murder in his eyes, their battle begun in earnest.

Ever the corpse of Ubel sought to force her blade in the blind, ever she slipped free of his traps, struggling against the horror closing in on her, waiting for the opening that would give her a chance of survival.

Ubel snarled with impatience, roaring as he charged forward, whipping his blade around in a vicious arc fit to cleave through even the most well protected throats.

Mastering her terror, Jess dropped as she lunged, feeling vicious death arc overhead, her blade slamming into her foe's chest.

It phased him not at all.

She desperately lurched back, but not before Ubel's steel covered boot slammed into her chest, sending her tumbling back. A blow that would have shattered ribs, had bronze breastplate and considerable padding not cushioned the blow.

A battered Jess desperately rose to shaking feet before she could be overwhelmed, yet it seemed that the surviving revenants were content to enjoy the show, gibbering and howling in delight as her nemesis cornered her.

Ubel's lips stretched in a hideous grin.

Worms poured from his mouth, slithering between blackened teeth.

"So many things I will enjoy doing to you, Calenbry, once you fall to the ground, writhing as my blade caresses your flesh."

Jess felt her guts twist in horrific loathing even as Ubel lashed out with his blade, Jess parring with the forte before darting back, but not before a second savage kick sent Jess stumbling back once more, and never had Jess felt so close to mortal peril as she did at that moment.

Ubel's icy gaze carefully measured Jess’s every movement. “How long I have hungered for this duel, most hated former sister-in-arms. How Mord and I loathed your arrogant ways. You and your other friends acting so high and mighty at the lords table, as if you had any right to dictate your opinions to anyone, let alone your betters!”

The hideous corpse spat out a great gob of his own rotting flesh, crawling with maggots, sneering his hate. “It was obvious they all favored you! The trainers, Eloquin, everyone! Spoiled little strumpet that you are, everyone thought your shite smelled of roses and no one and nothing could touch you. The minute a better man tried to put you in your place, they were brought low, while your own outrages were all but ignored!”

He seethed some moments, gazing at Jess with utter contempt. "Mord found his satisfaction in dreams of mastering you utterly. But I? I will settle for nothing less than your soul, Jessica de Calenbry! And when I am done with you, the ecstasy and agony you feel, writhing to my every whim, will be beyond all compare!"

Awful laughter, the sound of flesh tearing, filled the chamber. "When I realized there were other ways to power, my followers were not afraid to seize hold of opportunity. We were not afraid to risk our very souls in pursuit of greatness! We answer to no god or man, and have become greater than any of those tied to weaker arts, greater than all those weak-willed fools too cowardly to grasp ahold of true power!"

And a sudden cold chill washed over Jess as she recalled her desperate rescue of Malek along with the one child they could save, before the rest were consumed by living shadow. “I remember now. You and your friends, setting up Alex and his coterie with drugged wine, easy prey for Velheim wizards intent upon ritual sacrifice. Using your lackey to drug the families of kitchen staff, so as to steel away their children!"

And those victims had not been the first, Jess realized, hideous memories of dark secrets long forgotten, permeating her psyche only now, in the heart of nightmare.

She gazed at the shimmering wards Rens and his students were holding so desperately, a last stand against the most hideous of traps, a vile lich intent upon stealing all their souls.

"All of this is your doing. Diabolism! Sacrificing those children in the heart of our keep, arranging for Alex and his friends to fall at the linchpin! All of this was to crack Highrock's defenses. To make it easier for your master to strike! Admit it!” Jess’s voice shook with fury.

And even as Jess was flooded with those terrible memories, Ubel gazed at her mockingly with his rotting eyes, dry dead throat cackling with darkest mirth. "Ah. You figured it out in the end, did you? I did indeed, wench! And what a pity you actually dared to charge my dark brothers but seconds before they could finish butchering all your friends."

Laughter then, like a dying man's last gasp. "So the linchpin holds. Summer long past, it is endless Autumn that holds sway, ever hungry to reap greater harvests, and you his willing tool. So clever, yet so stupid, Calenbry, that you don't even understand the dark game you play! The spoils you shower upon him are meaningless, for your master has still lost! Archmage Rens, least insignificant of Highrock's pathetic mages, has succumbed to my master's siren call, opening himself up to the trap before you, his spell now the chink in Highrock's armor we shall use to wreak havoc beyond your ken, destroying your master, once and for all!

"Winter alone shall soon hold sway over Highrock. Hundreds of frozen corpses will soon decorate the keep's windswept halls, even as their souls twist and writhe to our pleasure, screaming for our amusement, here, in blackest Shadow!"

Ubel spat his contempt. "By rights, Mord should savor this victory with me. Yet ever did he balk at true darkness. Plaga Coward! Such power I earned, simply by having the boldness to seize it! Power claimed by showing no fear, no weakness, no hesitation, as I grasp ahold of this path to greatness!"

Jess's limbs trembled with fear no longer. It did not matter the choking terror that had numbed her swings, left her badly on the defensive. It did not matter that it was her body bruised and battered before this monster, he all but inured to her blows. Never had she wanted to embrace the killing frenzy like she did at that moment, limbs trembling not with fear, but with hottest fury.

"Greatness, Ubel? You, who have been forgotten by the outside world entire? You stride no halls in glory, you damn fool! You are now nothing but a rotting corpse, lost in these chambers of twisted dream and nightmare!" Her laughter was cold. Mocking. "Tell me, Ubel, how many of our classmates do you think would swoon to your touch now?"

“You know nothing, foolish wench!” Ubel roared, charging Jess with a fierce overhand blow. “You know nothing of the power I’ve gained!”

Her nemesis uttered a hideous curse then, fearsome energies twisting through the ether, a ball of shadowy flame streaking across the massive chamber, headed right for Jess. Black death given sentience and form.

Jess seized the Vor as Ubel uttered his curse, no longer letting fear choke her initiative, no longer letting the horror all about her prevent her from drinking deep of the vile potency flowing through this tower of hideous rites, tasting as it did of the hot wrath that roared through her every time she charged her foes in battle, butchering bandits and slavers as a child of the High Hunt, accepting at last just how dark and terrible a role she, Malek, and all her fellow Squires had played.

It wasn't just that only two score Squires of War had dared the hunt, had dared to ride under the banner of a man they worshiped as fiercely as any god, dodging mortal peril over and over against fiercest odds, as if Eloquin's own blessing pushed them on, blackening their daggers for an endless summer Jess realized in that moment truly had lasted for countless seasons over countless years that somehow all blended into one, as if they had somehow stepped outside of time itself.

Many noble scions knew of the legends. Knew who summer truly blessed. Many had come before her first step down that eldritch path. And many since. And all those who had failed to comprehend what they truly embraced had slipped free of those eldritch magics, dazed and lost, never to dare Highrock again.

The abyssal spell flashed over Jess's darting form, exploding in a flash of light behind her as she seized the Vor and pummeled the hideous revenant with her sword. Strike and void, slash and parry, their blades wove together in a fearsome, terrible dance.

Jess felt the rage roaring through her as never before. Focus. She forced herself to stay focused. To use her hate as a deadly weapon, not let it use her. It was not time to sink into the sweet madness. Not quite yet.

“And yet you fell!" Jess taunted after they sprang back from one another once more, each coldly circling, measuring the other. "Your master cut you down before my very eyes! You and Glist and Tarron, all forgotten. All of you lost to Shadow!"

“Yes, damn you!” Ubel cursed. “And I was the head of our coven. Those Velheim sorcerers you dared to cut down were sworn to me, foolish bitch! We strove for greatness, we had no fear. And when the opportunity came for us to become one with the blackness, to become one with true power, we alone had the courage to embrace that dark twisting path! Those we left behind lacked the will to follow.” His smile turned cold. “But fear not. Even cowardly Mord knows what he must do.”

Ubel then turned to gaze mockingly upon the wards being desperately maintained by the panicked students and Master Rens, all struggling to keep their magics firmly in place. Jess shuddered to think how easily those students would perish here, in this terrible realm, even as Josie's desperate wails tore into her soul. “Don’t worry, little Jess. As soon as I am finished disemboweling you, I shall take exquisite pleasure in devouring these fools who fell so perfectly into our trap!”

Ubel charged once more, his face a picture of unholy glee as he lashed out with his awful blade.

Jess drunk deep of the hideous madness all around her. A catalyst to unleash the boiling rage welling up within, desiring with every ounce of her being to cleave Ubel's vile head from his body and send his soul plummeting to the very depths of Hell.

His blade shrieked through the air as it crashed down from overhead. Heart racing, Jess waited half a beat before countering with a Zwerchhau strike, dancing to the side as her longsword struck not his body but his blade, knocking his weapon askew as she pivoted and slammed steel into his throat.

Ubel stumbled back, off-kilter, even as Jess's heart lurched, her killing blow only disorienting her foe, yet drawing no blood, not even cracking bone as hard as granite. He was more resilient than any living thing had a right to be. In as much fury and panic, she slammed her blade against his helmet with a furious barrage of killing blows.

Ubel grunted under the force of her onslaught, helmet crumpling under the storm of steel, but she could not bring him down, could not even stop him from rightening himself once more.

His rotted lips curling into a hideous smile. "And now you see, foolish bitch, what you are truly up against. Oh, how I will make you pay, Jess. How dearly I will make you pay when I crush your bones and swallow your screams for eternity!"

"Jess!" Twilight's voice. So much said with that one word.

Jess shuddered, understanding at last how it was that Ubel lived still, no longer drawn in by his awful words, registering instead the dark strands of magic entwining body and soul.

Recalling how she had bested the first abomination they had stumbled upon.

It was not merely embracing the nightmare she found herself within. It was mastering it with the taste of her own will.

Blood to command and bind, but an extension of herself, her essence, her will.

A hot sting as Ubel regained his feet, sword held at the ready once more, precious seconds twisting his face into a smile.

Before he lurched back and snarled, catching sight of Jess's equally savage grin, and her blade freshly coated with blood.

Her own.

Ubel roared a guttural curse that echoed through the air like the wails of a dozen tortured souls, webs of inky blackness pulled from the bowels of Hell now streaking through the air straight towards Jess. Impossible to dodge. A single touch and it would not just be her flesh that was seared and pinned, but her very soul.

Instantly cut in twain, bursting in crimson fire with a single slash of her blade.

"No!" Ubel lurched back and hissed. "You do not have such power!"

Jess laughed, mocking him with her smile. He roared and charged, Jess matching him blow for blow. Matching and besting him, her strikes never stronger as the stormy seas of Shadow roared through her, carrying her aloft, each step effortless, as if she all but floated in dream.

Like the most savage of artists, Jess brushed the canvas before her with stroke after stroke of her bloody tool, ancient steel shredding like fine parchment with each strike that pierced her foe's increasingly panicked defenses, worms and maggots flooding out of savage wounds that would have spurted blood and entrails, were Ubel still among the living.

Hideous yellow-grey eyes widened with fear.

Never before in realms living or dead had Jess ever seen Ubel afraid.

"No. You are not the master's disciple. You are not one of us! This is but a test. You will fall before me!"

Jess laughed before Ubel's desperate words, a hot, terrible exultation roaring through her veins as she tasted his fear, time seeming to slow as she roared forth and charged, a blistering series of Zwerchhau strikes overwhelming her stumbling foe, her smoking blade twisting past increasingly frantic parries before morphing into a vicious lunge, plunging into his skull. Then she yanked her sword savagely free.

Ubel began to shriek in inhuman agony as the blood upon her blade smoked and consumed him from within, searing through the armor that had once protected him so well. Jess grinned in fierce joy even as her foe managed to raise his blade and charge her, their swords crashing together one final time, Jess maneuvering to catch his sword near her crossguard, her blooded blade now controlling the bind, effortlessly pivoting around his defenses to slice through his neck, feeling but the slightest resistance as rusted steel, suppurating flesh, and brittle bone parted like wax before her blade.

Jess caught sight of Ubel's final expression, one of utter shock and inconceivable agony, before his cleaved skull rolled away. Her old foe's screeches of suffering echoed through the ancient necromancer’s lab, even as his body smoked and twisted and boiled away to nothingness. For they were screams not of the flesh, but of her enemy's very soul.

Jess felt no pity for Ubel, captivated as she was by a sudden fierce and terrible exhilaration, a climax of power pouring into her with the fury of a flooded river fed from massive falls, roaring and crashing down into the dark depths of her soul.

Jess’s laugh was one of ecstatic triumph as she sprinted with inhuman speed to Malek’s aid, his opponent’s back to her own. Effortlessly she cleaved through the unprotected neck of her shieldbrother’s foe, who collapsed instantly. A rotting marionette of dead flesh, strings now cut.

And the remaining revenants howled, gazing at Jess and Malek both with hate-filled, rotting eyes, charging the pair as one.

Never had Jess felt such heady euphoria as she did during those moments, fighting by her shieldbrother's side as they wove and dodged past rusted swords that arced through air so slowly, even as Squire blades cleaved through rotted flesh and corroded armor with a butcher's grace, hideous foes collapsing before their onslaught, fallen corpses boiling to ash at their feet.

A furious, mad melee lasting but a handful of seconds, a lifetime of savagery, steel, and death; her re-blooded bladed seeming almost to burn with the fires of her wrath as it tore through the few revenants remaining, until all their foes had crashed to the ground.

A hearbeat's stillness, as Jess and Malek faced each other over their final kill as it crumpled to ash at their feet. Her shieldbrother’s gaze locked with her own, equal parts wonder and terror. "By the gods above, Jess, did we just consume those creatures? Their power? Their very souls?"

Jess felt a cold slithery whisper in the back of her mind. A chill of uncertainty. She instantly clamped down on the sweet rush still tingling through her limbs, understanding at last her peril. Jess clenched her fist in a warrior’s signal for silence and focus.

“Hush, Malek! Our foe, he seeks to hide from us. Can you not feel him?” For Jess recalled that they were not alone. Another foe, far more terrible than his once mortal minions, master of the hideous undead abominations Jess and her brother had just defeated, was the true source of the threat.

“Jess! Malek! You must defeat that Lich, or find the source of its working! He is holding us here, in a pit of darkest nightmare. If we let down our spell for even an instant, we shall all fall in, and for those of us lacking the Delver's gift, it will be a horrific nightmare of a death!”

Jess turned to the sound of Rens's voice, tinny and faint as it was; distorted, no doubt, by the shimmering ward he and his students maintained even now. For those exhausted looking mages were but feet from Jess, yet worlds apart, and desperate to maintain that distance.

“Please, you must hurry! My students and I cannot hold for much longer."

Jess grimaced and nodded as Rens called out to them yet again, realizing as she sensed the panic in his voice that he and his struggling students were truly in peril. Carefully she took in her surroundings, ears ringing with the sharp whine of Malek’s magic balls spinning close to his head. She breathed deep, reigning in her battlefury, dampening her dark euphoria, all her focus simply on sensing the flow and pattern of shadowy energies swirling all about.

Jess gasped. She felt it. Something dark, crimson, and vile. A harsher magic than any of the ephemeral strands of azure power that resonated through the weavings and magical constructs of all the casters she had known at the college, stranger than even the tainted spells Ubel had cast. Magics that throbbed with a potency and power, a tangibility, that was both loathsome and strangely seductive.

Sword raised in Ochs, hilt held to right cheek with the blade pointed at the flickers of power she could just barely discern, Jess did her utmost to feel out the exact nature of those dark pulsating chords, striving to sense what was truly before her. She burned with the need to glimpse that wondrous tapestry of magic, dream, and reality in all its terrible beauty.

Suddenly, as if a veil had been abruptly lifted, the matrix of power was laid bare before her.

Her breath hitched as she sensed the web of crackling energies cloaking the dark, wraith-like figure even at that moment approaching them. Where others would see nothing but gloom and shadow, she saw the sparks of its hellish magics flickering bright as a crimson moon, its ebony scythe raised up high for a killing blow, as if it was some hideous avatar of death itself.

Grimacing, Jess sliced her cheek open with her blade once more, noting all earlier traces of gore had been burnt to ash, and her blade smoked fiercely as her blood gently trailed the edges. She grinned, reveling in the power of her flesh and her resolve to control the fate of her own dream. And by the power of her blood, her blade would serve as an extension of her will.

“There!” Jess shouted, directing Malek with a frantic nudge, pointing with her longsword so he wouldn’t be caught flatfooted as she roared her challenge and charged, blade raised high, instantly ready to meet the startled attack of the surprised Lich who had so expected her to be caught unawares.

As if they were but moves in a well-orchestrated dance, Jess dove under the sweeping strike of the deadly scythe, slipping under its guard. The hideous apparition hissed its surprise as Jess charged full on in sudden close quarters, slamming her pommel into the putrid face, shattering ancient bone with a brittle crack. The lich stumbled back, spitting out broken teeth while desperately attempting to whisper foul words of terrible power as Jess pivoted and struck once more, tearing cleanly through the Lich's left arm as the vile creature twisted away, voluminous robes now smoking from contact with her freshly blooded blade.

The hideous wraith-like creature was now completely visible, Jess's sword having severed the crackling crimson chords of power that had concealed its presence. It shrieked in disbelief and outrage even as its scythe morphed into a rapier-like blade of shadow, and the creature hissed.

“What are you, Delver, to see through my abyssal magics and cause harm to me? No mortal arts can triumph over the realm of the dead, any more than ephemeral air can overcome the mighty force of the wave! Does the tainted blood of power flow through your veins? Then I command you, obey my summons and submit to me!" The lich's every word still resonated with the stench of rot, the gurgling screams of broken men choking to death on their own blood. Yet Jess found herself now curiously unaffected, strangely certain that this creature only played at powers far darker and more potent than even it could possibly comprehend.

Its eyes glowed crimson with a fierce hunger, and it laughed madly as the floor of the ravaged library suddenly lit up a fiery red, multiple hexagons and pentagrams now glowing brightly with the residual power of blood and ancient magics.

Jess sensed, somehow, that the sigils lining the pentagrams served as both anchors and traps for whatever infernal creatures the lich before her had no doubt striven to summon.

“Ah, I give you pause, don’t I, demoness?” It laughed. “It all falls into place, in the end. No mortal could tear through my undead minions so easily, let alone cleave through abyssal enchantments! Your blood burns with the hot fires of Hell. Your very blade smokes from it! All these years, working my wiles to summon this school and its ripest prizes to the heart of my power, and soon the tormented screams of my prey shall reach even the lords below, as I savor the succulent souls before me!”

The gloating lich gave a satisfied nod, grinning through shattered teeth. “It pleases me that the broken fools I have damned for your mistress's pleasure have at last made their way to your courts with my offerings to your queen. At last! Accords shall be reached, and true power shall be mine.”

Gesturing grandly, the hideous creature scribed shimmering sigils into the air with the rapier he used as a wand, dark enchantments that Jess instantly understood were set to bind and compel, his horrific whisper the death rattle of countless souls as the air wreaked of putrid blood and rotting entrails. “I command you, dark hellion, servant of the queen I would serve in turn, reveal to me your name and rank! For you are my first test, and in the mastery of you I shall earn the right to truck with your queen, and together we shall forge such an unholy alliance as to send all of Erovering crashing to its knees!”

The gloating lich hissed a dark curse, and the brooding pentagrams underneath Jess's feet began to pulse and throb, glowing a rich burgundy hue that Jess found oddly soothing. “Tell me your name and rank, servant, and bow before your new master, for then my dominion over you shall be complete!”

Twilight hissed, having adroitly leaped to Jess’s shoulder once the wards had blazed to life. “Answer not its summons! It has no power over you.”

Jess, bemused, just smiled and proceeded toward her foe, blade casually allowed to scrape the stone tiles, sparkling and hissing as it did so. The ancient fallen mage, face a rotted caricature of the wizard it once was, still managed to gaze in horrified awe as Jess proceeded to walk through the numerous bloodstained wards throbbing with such potent and terrible magics before her.

Jess felt the eldritch spells burst and rupture as her sword tip scraped the stone-tiled floor. She almost fancied she could hear the magic wards she had so effortlessly abjured shrieking in discord as they strove to flee her presence, imagining too that those strangely sentient spells were helpless before her, sucked into her shimmering, bloodied blade, feeding her with their power, sparkling upon her tongue like the most succulent of fruits.

Jess began to laugh then, delighting in the frisson of energy and well-being suddenly coursing through her.

“No! There is no way you could break through those wards!” Arrogant gaze melting into fear, the hideous apparition slowly backed away.

“How did I break your asinine wards? How did I see past your magics and slice through them, and you, so easily?” Jess's grin was lit by a dark, taunting hunger, savoring the unnerving of her enemy, its confidence collapsing with the shredding of its eldritch protections. “Is it not obvious, foul wraith? We are in the realm of dreams! A place where will takes precedence over form, where all that echoes with the past is but a memory, a dream of what once was, or could be.”

Jess gazed about her with sneering contempt. “Just as you have so obviously shaped this paltry little realm into your personal domain, I too can shape it, break it, transform it to serve me! Now quail before the one who is about to sunder your dreams, and cast you into endless nightmare!” This Jess declared while forcing open the cut upon her cheek once more, grinning sharply at the burst of pain it gave her, her offhand now wet with her own blood.

With a sudden roar Jess charged the creature, having already calculated the counter to her foe’s blade. Long and thin, deadly in the thrust against an unarmored foe, it was only somewhat effective in the cut. In reality, it was a lord’s fencing toy more than a weapon of war.

For deadly as a rapier might be against an unarmored man, it was far less so if one was prudent enough to wear armor or had, say, a mailed glove to catch the deceptively fast feint and strike that the lich, with a satisfied hiss, launched at Jess, seemingly certain that its infernal blade could cut through mundane armor with effortless ease, cleaving her in twain.

Yet Jess took no injury when her gauntlet successfully snagged the creature’s madly thrusting blade, even when yanking her foe’s rapier completely off alignment as the wraith’s frenzied lunge sent it stumbling past her.

Jess felt a surge of darkest exhilaration as her own bloodstained blade arced downwards to devastating effect. The lich let loose a panicked shriek as her smoking blade cut deep into its arched back, effortlessly severing hellish wards and rotting flesh alike.

Her dread foe crashed to the ground, crippled by her blow. The wraith’s shadowy robes smoked and steamed where Jess’s blood-soaked blade had struck. She could see the shattered remnants of ruptured spells whipping about wildly in the ether.

“Mistress of darkness!” it cried, its dreadful whisper a mockery of a whining plea. “Mercy, mistress. Let me serve you. Let me bask in your dark glory and show you the insights I have gained in the dark arts! Oh, great goddess of the nether realms, let me pledge my soul unto you and feast upon the vision of your dark ruthless glory, bringing new disciples and souls who will adore you, and obey your every whim!”

Twilight, once again on the ground, darted nimbly past ruptured wards and smirked at their fallen foe. “What a pathetic plea you make. As if we didn't already know how empty an offer that was. Legions of adoring sycophants, and no sunlight to warm one’s fur, or fish to fill one’s belly. Pointless drivel!”

With a final disparaging sniff for the ancient lich, Twilight ignored him completely, focusing his gaze upon Jess. “Come, Jess. Embrace your inner paladin, destroy this pathetic blight, and let’s leave this place. I, for one, am starving for something more filling than essence of soul.”

Jess turned her gaze fully upon the still pleading wraith with blade raised high, her eyes as cold and merciless as a midwinter storm. “This is for all the lives you’ve destroyed, all the suffering you’ve caused, all the grief, pain, and death that lie as stains upon your spirit. You wish to serve the dark ones? So be it! Serve them as food. Let them feast upon your soul!”

Jess roared her fury as the creature screamed in supplication, her blazing sword cleaving the fallen wizard in twain, and Jess felt as much as saw the arcane bindings sealing its soul tight to its shadowy form suddenly rupture, its twisted malformed spirit free at last of all the dark enchantments that had polluted it, the strangely solemn soul now blinking at her in confusion, only to be sent hurling away, screaming through endless dark dimensions, doomed to serve as food for the howling demons it had pledged itself to, so long ago.

Jess could sense this, even as she was near overwhelmed by the sickly-sweet rush of all the fallen wizard's carefully hoarded energies roaring into her in a tidal wave of tainted power. She cried out with the intensity of it, unsure for some moments whether it was ecstasy or agony she felt as she stumbled to the ground.

She blinked, gazing about her in a dazed stupor.

Where once there had been undead horrors laughing with sick delight, a chaotic melee full of madness and terror, there was now naught but suits of rusted mail, pitted swords, and piles of fine ash. The great laboratory was quiet and deathly still, save for the sobs of the one girl that had been pulled into this terrible realm.

Of Master Enchanter Rens and all his other terrified students, there was not a trace. Gone, as if they had never been.

54

Jess rushed over to Josie, gently stroking her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. Those creatures that did this to you are gone. You don’t have to worry about them anymore. It’s going to be all right. We’re going to get you out of here, okay? I promise.”

Josie moaned but turned to her and Jess felt a sudden jolt, an ache in her chest, as the girl’s soft brown eyes caught her own. The terrible pain she saw in Josie's beautiful face twisted Jess’s heart, and she ached in sympathy with every wheezing breath she heard from her friend's laboring chest, even as she tried desperately to speak.

“My arms, they burn like fire. But you saved my life, Jess, thank all the gods. I thought those horrors were going to kill me! It's just that this place feels like it's crushing me. Crushing my chest. I can hardly breathe. Oh gods, I feel like I'm going to die here!"

Tears of pain and fear coursed down Josie's cheeks and Jess carefully picked her up, her heart clenching whenever she cried out as her broken arms jostled.

“Malek, help!” Jess cried out urgently.

With a nod Malek approached, methodically tearing off strips of their underclothing with his dagger, using it to carefully sling Josie's arms, wrapping them tightly to her belly so they would not jostle her with unspeakable agony as Jess prepared to move her out of the laboratory.

“Bloody hells, Malek, how do we get out of here?” Jess grimaced, doing her best to reign in mounting dread as she noticed the door they had entered and smashed open was now surrounded by a strange white mist, radiating the same eerie chill as it had down the corridor. “I think that damn mist is growing.”

Malek nodded. “You’re right on that, Jess. It’s definitely time for us to leave.” His eyes darted around and lightened up as Jess followed his gaze to an entranceway in the back of the laboratory, appearing to lead down a long hallway. “That way!”

Together they made their way at a fast yet cautious pace, worry for her injured friend and the mounting anxiety coursing through her muting so much of the curiosity she might otherwise feel for the endless tomes and treasures they saw on display. She could tell by Malek's worried frown that he felt much the same, though when he whistled at a golden chalice resting upon a solid marble pedestal, she didn't blame him. It was clearly worth a fortune, and would be a wonderful prize to take home with them. He was about to lift it up with a triumphant grin before suddenly blanching. Jess grimaced when she saw that it was full of coagulated blood.

Malek shuddered, his hand pulling back in disgust. “Blood rituals.”

“No doubt.” Jess nodded. “However hungry Rens is for knowledge, I have the feeling that the works here are of an extremely tainted nature. I don’t think our school needs to be pursuing arts that might lead anyone down this dark path again.”

Malek gave a thin-lipped nod. "Agreed."

"Do you choose the chalice?" A terrible voice crackled through the air like frozen tree sap bursting pine trees by the score. Jess shivered at the sudden chill, inhaling the bitter scent of frigid cold.

"What was that?" Malek gazed, about, sword held at the ready. If anything, the mist had advanced, and Jess couldn't help but wonder if it was mist they saw, or the memory of a howling winter storm.

Jess’s breath caught as Josie's breathing became more labored.

At that moment, Josie started to moan and gasp. Her face scrunched up in a grimace, sobbing with pain. "Oh Jess, by the gods it hurts!" She shook in Jess's arms and gave a low guttural groan. Jess shared an anxious look with her shieldbrother.

“We’ve got to get her out of this place, now!” Malek shouted, looking desperately around. "Bloody hells, the exits are gone!"

Jess swallowed, heart hammering, realizing it was true. The way they had entered was now lost in a fog of howling whiteness, passageways she was sure had been there moments before while fighting for her life were now nothing but shelves stacked with eldritch tomes by the score, alternating with pedestals weighed down by what Jess was chillingly certain were the vilest of artifacts, the blood-filled chalice but one of them.

Jess spied a sword with a blade that seemed to suck in all light, so dark it was, for all that its hilt was lacquered in gold and jewels fit for a king. Also on display was a shield covered in black glyphs that seemed to pulsate in the air, a wand of perfect ebony held still in the mummified hand of some ancient wizard, both of them resting upon massive pedestals of gold veined marble. Resting on the translucent pedestal closest to Jess was a horn the color of dried blood.

Jess felt a fierce surge of exhilaration, all but tasting the sweet rush of terrible power emanating from that dread artifact before she gasped and shuddered, surprised to see her left hand grasping for the horn even as she shifted an increasingly panicked Josie to her right arm as if she weighed no more than a sack of clothes.

Jess hissed and lurched back, glaring at her left hand, her own once more.

A terrible voice, frigid as an icy gale, washed over them both. "Choose your prize, Champions of Winter, and embrace your destiny."

Malek's panicked gaze met Jess's own. "Let's not touch a thing, Jess, not a damn thing. We've both read enough stories to know that dark specters asking us to take prizes radiating those sorts of magics is never a good thing."

Jess's eyes widened. "You can sense the dark energies wrapped around these artifacts?"

Malek frowned. "No, Jess. I, well, they all smell like death to me, that's all I can tell you."

"Close enough, Hound," Twilight purred from Jess's shoulder. "Close enough."

Laughter like the shrieking howl of the fiercest storm washed over them, Jess holding Josie tight, terrified for her friend gasping in air that tasted as cold as the void.

"Your triumph was inevitable, for only victors live to stand before me, your destiny foretold. You can no more fight it than you can the march of the seasons, long as my brother and nemesis Autumn has tried to hold me off, embracing his rituals, his sacrifices, rich bounties never enough to ward Dawn from winter's deadly chill."

Jess gazed about madly, looking for the source of that booming voice, tasting the dark truths behind those terrible words.

"Who is Autumn? What do you mean by winter's deadly chill? She cried out, desperate for time, chilled to find no exit, no escape at all.

And the mist slowly, inexorably approached, the farmost book cases soon hidden by winter's deadly storm.

The terrible voice boomed once more, and this time, Jess forced herself to focus on more than the dreadful words uttered.

"All seasons come, inexorably washing over all that came before. Reforging it anew. The hunter that embraces Autumn's bounty must bear the burden of Winter's storm. It is only fitting that two Champions of Autumn, having hunted so well, now embrace Winter's cry, learning to hunt different prey."

Jess swallowed, her throat bone dry. "What do you mean, Champions of Autumn?"

Cold laughter rocked the room. "You have both served my brother long and well. It is time for you to serve me. Winter is the time of auguries and divinations, immutable future leaving its tracks in the endless snows of frigid space and time.

"You will both serve to bring about the turning of the seasons. It is inevitable, inescapable. You will claim a prize from these chambers, and depart. In doing so, Autumn will lose his grasp upon eternity, and the frigid snows will fall at last. Too long have the seasons' turnings been delayed, mortal coils extended, and a terrible price will I exact for my brother's treachery!"

And what chilled Jess even more than the howling winds biting into their skin was her familiar's solemn nod. "He is right, you know. Noble as the cause has been, anchored so perfectly as to cause neither burr nor rip in the fabric of reality, for far too long have hundreds of souls slipped free of the season's march. Eternity is good for no spirit that calls this world home, lest madness and the horror of nightmares long fled begin to prick fragile dreams only just keeping so many poor souls from falling once more."

Jess hissed. "Twilight, what in all the hells are you talking about?" Then she blinked, the source of that terrible voice clear at last.

Mocking laughter washed over her once more. "If you do not choose your prize, you and your companion will be lost to eternity, as the icy mists of winter wash over you forever more. Yet the auguries burn too brightly with your presence upon all the lines of fate that I have seen. You will claim your prize, and you will leave, and I shall have the satisfaction of seeing my brother's demesne awash in the burning light of destruction!"

"No!" Malek cried out. "We will not be your puppets! We will not touch cursed artifacts that would bring ruin to our home!"

"It is your home no longer, fool. Your master threw you out. To serve him no longer. Don't you see, pitiable creature? For you, Autumn's bounty is forever beyond your reach. The cold winds of Winter will be your home forever more. Now claim my frigid bounty and embrace the hunt once more! Claim your prize, or be forever lost to Winter's chill."

"Jess, help!" Josie. Eyes filled with panic, gazing about her in choking terror as howling winds seemed to wail from the mist creeping ever closer, the farthest half of the massive laboratory and all its arcane prizes were now covered in that chilly mist, and for all Jess knew, erased from existence as well.

"Jess, what do we do?" Malek cried.

"Jess, make your choice!" Twilight roared. "You are no one's tool!"

Jess frantically gazed about, desperate to make sure. "How long will winter last, if we catalyze the seasons once more?"

And the howling winds stopped, the far corners of the room were still cloaked in whiteness, but still. "So long have I hungered to howl upon all the forests and fields of Erovering. To taste those tracts of land so long denied my grasp. My reign will be long, Champion. Long and full. And for so long as I am ascendant, you shall taste the fruits of my triumph."

Malek frowned. "Be careful, Jess. If Erovering starts having unseasonably cold winters, it will wreak havoc with crops and industry. No one tastes any fruit of triumph if our farmers' fields are frozen."

Jess nodded as the chill voice of winter spoke on.

"With these artifacts, I shall aid you in the forging of a vast kingdom of ice and snow. A kingdom to rule for all your mortal years. Then, only then, will I allow myself to fade into Spring once more."

Jess froze, gazing breathlessly at the dark treasure before her.

Her heart raced as impossible visions of dominion and rule raced through her mind.

A queen with fiery locks and lips of crimson, gazing at the world through shimmering ruby eyes, her burgundy leathers hiding all trace of the savageries she embraced. Basking in dark glory as thousands roared and cheered as she gazed down upon them all from a balcony of shimmering metal. A sea of supplicants before her, celebrating her endless rule.

A woman of shimmering black hair and copper-tinged skin, with piercing blue eyes so like her own, leading endless thousands of charioteers in a campaign of conquest long since lost to the sands of time.

And she could all too easily imagine what it would be to rule for decades, worshiped by desperate thousands, her helpless supplicants all too aware that it was her munificence alone that granted them the shortest of summers to grow their crops in a land of endless ice and snow.

Jess trembled and shook, shaking herself free of darkest reverie.

"Jess?" Malek's voice, so filled with concern and alarm, and a brother's love.

Somehow, Jess knew that whatever path she took, Malek would stand by her side.

Heart pounding with the most terrible of temptations, she turned to meet her familiar's too-knowing gaze.

"The decision is yours, Jess. You alone must decide what path you will take."

"But Twilight... if I did..."

"Thousands of innocent souls would return to the garden of life before their time. For such would be the price of the seasons turning once more, should you choose the path that Winter would lay before you."

She felt as if she were falling into sapphire eyes blazing like alien suns. "As always, my queen, the choice is yours and yours alone. And as always, I will walk by your side, no matter how bitter the sacrifice, no matter how savage the choice you make."

Jess closed her eyes and shivered, allowing herself to savor a moment's exquisite bliss, imagining what it would be like to rule over an entire kingdom, helpless before her frigid wrath.

Blinking back tears, she made her choice, turning abruptly for the most decrepit of bookshelves after placing Josie in Malek's care. Made of ancient stone and covered in dust and spiderwebs, the bookshelf had been ancient even when this tower was forged, containing stone tablets and ancient scrolls as opposed to the exquisite leather tomes found everywhere else in this ancient laboratory.

"Make your choice!" The voice of Winter roared as Jess turned away from the artifacts glimmering so potently, each of them possessing, Jess thought, power to rival the greatest artifacts to be found upon the face of Dawn.

Yet there was something even more potent to be found.

A treasure beyond compare.

Winter itself.

Jess allowed herself a grim smile as she brushed aside several stone tablets toppled upon an ancient horned helm, so popular with ancient shaman kings, endless ages ago.

Jess's hands trembled before the hideous artifact, even as Josie gasped and heaved in Malek's protective arms.

"You dare approach me, before taking your prize and swearing your allegiance? Choose again, fool! Choose your prize of all the treasures in this chamber, for only then will you be allowed to leave. To fulfill the destiny I have foreseen!"

Jess flashed the bleakest of smiles, no longer fearing the horrific cold radiating from the awful helm. Knowing the bitter frost was of the soul, and her soul was hot with fiercest need.

She screamed as she gripped the artifact in hands suddenly frozen to ice, desperate to escape the horrific, all too tempting destiny this ancient god of Winter had doomed upon her.

"You cannot leave until you choose!" The helm roared even as Jess screamed.

"I have made my choice, avatar of Winter, and it is you!" Jess sobbed, lurching forward under the hideous weight.

Twilight chuckled softly, pitiless nod ignoring Jess's awful suffering. "Well done, my mistress, but this is no place to dawdle. If ever there was a time for haste, it is now."

Jess whimpered but complied, even as it felt like her very soul was being sucked into the glowing amber pits that served as eyes in that hideous helm, Jess fighting with every fiber of her being to hang tightly to her body, forcing herself towards the doorway that had of course always been there, just hidden between bookshelf and shadow, only needing a moment's clarity to see.

And not a moment too soon, as awful mist began to close in once more.

"No! You will stop, you will take your prize, as I have seen it, as I have foretold!" The helmet roared with the voice of the chamber entire, the great room beginning to shake apart as if the very earth shuddered, book cases toppling, the ceiling itself collapsing in a terrible rain of rubble, Jess and Malek propelling themselves out of the room an instant before it caved in entirely with the most awful of roars, both of them desperate to outrun the choking cloud of dust that left them hacking and coughing, Josie's gasping turning to a desperate, choking wheeze.

They found themselves racing down endless winding corridors seemingly without end, Jess trusting her gut as best she could, choking despair and the helm's awful whispers both sapping her strength, even as Malek's anxious eyes and her familiar's nip to sensitive ear lobe spurred her ever on.

Finally, the dust-filled passageway opened up into a great formal chamber, and Jess’s eyes widened with surprise and relief, seeing that, somehow, they had arrived near the entrance, though her bump of direction could make no sense of the many twists and turns they had navigated within that twisted realm of dream and nightmare. It was the same great ballroom they had first encountered near the entrance of the great tower, what seemed a lifetime ago.

There were numerous tables laid out in the room's center, laden with fine silver plate sets and cutlery. Oddly, it appeared that several sets were missing, incongruous to the pristinely preserved nature the room had presented before. Jess strode purposely through the great hall and towards the exit, deliberately ignoring the ghostly shapes she could make out forming from the midst out of the corner of her eye.

“Damn!" Malek muttered. "It's disappearing. It's all disappearing. We aren't getting out of here a moment too soon."

Jess swallowed, sneaking a furtive glance behind them, the howl of Winter and blinding mist but a heartbeat behind them, swallowing the entrance to the ball room, creeping toward them as if it were a sentient thing.

They quickly made their way across the ancient room and down the corridor to the great door guarding the entrance, Malek giving forth a great sigh of relief as he swung open the freely hanging oaken door, breathing deep of the fresh air and smiling at the sunlight caressing his skin as he made his way out of the keep, gently carrying Josie in his arms.

Jess allowed herself one glance back, seeing the hideous wall of winter mist creeping ever closer to the exit. She shivered, slamming the oaken door shut with her foot, and walked purposely toward the dark woods surrounding the grove.

She swallowed, knowing that through those woods was the path that would take them away from this strange tower trapped within the realm of dreams, and back to the waking world once more.

It was everything she could do not to drop the helm, though she knew that to do so now would spell disaster. Grimly she forced herself to look at her hands, gauntlets somehow lost in the madness, naked flesh pale but very much living, for all that it felt as if it had frozen to bitter ice, long ago.

Jess blinked, recalling her sword, the conduit that had allowed her to touch dream with steel as if it was her direct will alone that had struck down the ancient foes and enchantments that had so hungered to stop her advance.

Slowly, she lifted one clawed hand from the awful helm even as she collapsed to her knees, carefully clutching the helm to her even though her thighs were pierced by sudden cold, slowly pulling free a single small sack from her belt, gazing at her familiar once more.

Twilight smiled. "I don't see why it wouldn't work, mistress."

Jess nodded, even as she drew her dirk and carefully gouged open her cheek once more, the sharp pain a relief from the awful numbness strangling her will.

"Jess, what are you doing? We need to get out of here now, or Josie will die!" Malek's panicked voice.

"Silence, Hound. Our mistress must not be disturbed, not for this working."

Jess swallowed, keeping focus, forcing her trembling palm to cup the blood dribbling from her torn flesh, allowing her fingers to streak across the burlap sack, feeling the potency of the strange sigils she marked upon the face of it, mirrored by the markings she placed upon the helm, for all that she screamed, her mind blazing with all the horrors of Winter, Malek himself steadying her as Josie whimpered and gasped.

"Jess, what by all the gods are you doing?"

Jess took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm not sure. I think, maybe, this will bind the helm, so it won't slip free of my grip when we stride between worlds once more. And if I'm really lucky..."

Exchanging a quick look with her familiar whose grin told her absolutely nothing, she slipped that terrible artifact into her sack.

The howling madness of Winter abruptly stopped.

Jess shuddered with relief, her mind clear once more.

Malek gazed at her in awe as she gave a satisfied nod, securing the sack to her belt, bulky as it was, before approaching Josie's writhing form, her shieldbrother futilely trying to comfort her.

"Jess, what exactly did you just do?"

"Don't worry about it, Malek. The important thing is that it is contained. I think."

"You think?"

Jess stopped and took a calming breath, gazing down at a now desperately wheezing Josie, her eyes wide with panic as she gasped and struggled for air, suddenly filled with the dread certainty that her dear friend wouldn't survive the journey back. Only in that horrific moment did Jess recall that Josie would not be the first to perish upon that twisted path between worlds.

Jess moaned in sudden grief. “Oh gods, Abe! How could I forget him.?”

Malek gazed at Jess sharply. “What are you talking about?”

“Abe! That silly redheaded boy who was always so, well, enthusiastic. Cheerful. But not very skilled. Don't you remember? The boy who almost managed to decapitate himself with his own sword?" She fought to hold back sudden tears. "He always had such a crush on me. Such a sweet puppy. I was always flattered by it, but never took it seriously."

She turned to face her friend, tears streaming down her cheeks. “By the gods, Malek, he died this night! Right here, when he tried to follow us into Regio. It just tore him up. He couldn’t make it. And we forgot. We forgot he was ever alive in the first place! I still remember his cries, when his very soul was flayed by the Void…” Her chest heaved as she sobbed, tears of regret and grief falling gently upon Josie. “We already lost one, and forgot the boy had even existed. I don’t want to lose her, okay Malek? I don’t want Josie to die, and to forget she even existed!"

Malek hissed in anxious frustration, and somehow Jess sensed how deeply seeing her in distress pained Malek. “Saints above, Jess. I’ve seen you do some pretty remarkable things this night. There has to be something we can do. Didn’t you heal me earlier? Patch me up somehow, tie me tighter into my dream after I had suffered that wound?”

Jess nodded thoughtfully, gently stroking Josie’s back as she continued to struggle for breath, squeezing Jess’s hand desperately, as if the very realm were trying to crush her out of existence. “That’s right, I did!” Jess then gently laid her cheek against Josie’s brow, closed her eyes, and tried to sense the whole of her friend. Not just the injuries suffered to limbs, but the weight that was crushing her very soul.

55

After several anxious moments, Jess at last spied a mysterious silvery blue webbing interwoven through her friend. It was a shimmering network of such incredible complexity that it dazzled Jess, leaving her breathless with a sense of awe and wonder, thinking that perhaps she had caught a glimpse of her companion's very soul. Carefully, Jess noted the areas of Josie's essence that were distorted and mangled, in perfect sympathetic response to the broken arms the girl had suffered from her horrid abduction.

Gently, with painstaking precision, Jess smoothed the jangled strands, only dimly hearing the great gasp that turned to a relaxed sigh of relief from her patient. Jess smiled as she sensed through those strands that Josie had felt a sudden easing of her many pains.

Yet the greater pain, the more terrible danger, was the weight of the Shadowrealm itself, somehow pressing upon Josie’s very soul, as if she were a drowned sailor sinking to the blackest depths of the sea, and the ocean’s weight was somehow crushing her to a pulp.

It was as if the Dreamrealms were rejecting her. She had plunged too soon, too deep into madness. The tiny flicker of potential that might allow Josie to survive gentle shallows of reverie was too fragile to endure the depths of nightmare. Jess fought hard to control her panic, only grateful that Josie was, in her own way, far more resilient than most. Somehow Jess was certain that most souls pulled directly into that dread keep would have died within moments, just like a certain redheaded boy whose name already escaped her, for all that flashes of his adoring smile and the horror of his final screams haunted her still. Yet that flicker of hope for Josie's future meant nothing if she didn't act, and soon. She had only minutes before her friend succumbed at last to the terrible forces crushing her soul.

“Think, Jess!” she demanded of herself, and the gentle prick of Twilight’s paws jolted forward memories of the terrible battles they had survived this night, reminding her of the odd weakness that had allowed her to best even the most terrible foes she had faced.

Malek's hand squeezed her armored shoulder. "If you can contain the spirit of Winter, you should be able to keep Josie's soul safe inside her body, Jess."

Jess nodded. "You're right, Malek. Just... let me get the feel of it, okay?" Her blood. Somehow, her blood was the key. Just as she could shape the dreams by weight of her will, the conduit was her touch, her flesh, her blood. Allowing her to channel the raw power of her desires. Blood upon blade to cleave the most potent of foes. Runes forged of her essence, alive with her will, able to contain the embodiment of winter. At least, for a time.

Just as Twilight had counseled that she and Malek would be able to lock treasures found in this mad, unstable realm into permanency by their touch and will alone, so too Jess hoped to be able to lock in her friend’s existence as well.

“Josie, I’m going to try something. Please don’t be alarmed, okay?”

Striving to hold the entropic powers of Regio at bay by sheer willpower, Jess locked the mental image she had of the first friend she had ever made at Highrock fiercely tight within her heart. Josie's desperate, pleading soul shook her, clinging to Jess as if she were her last hope of salvation.

Jess opened her eyes to see Josie gazing into her own, smiling with relief even as she continued to gasp for air. “Thank you, Jess, whatever you did. My arms no longer feel like shattered kindling. Already you prove yourself a master of healing arts beyond any mortal wizard.” She tried to laugh, but ended up wheezing instead.

Jess was stunned for a moment, her heart suddenly pounding, cheeks flushed. For that moment when Josie's eyes had caught her own, she felt thunderstruck. Awed. She knew not what had befallen her for those moments, but she would swear she had never seen such a beautiful soul.

“Good,” Jess said at last. “I’m going to try to lock you to this realm, bind you to me, so I can help you maintain yourself, even as this realm tries to make you fade away.” Jess hissed sharply, reopening the cut on her cheek that she had sliced open so many times that evening, just knowing it would leave a scar. Yet she needed to see and feel her friend in her entirety. With but a thought, the ragged clothes Josie had been wearing were gone as if they had never been. And perhaps they hadn't ever been more than wisps of projected dream.

Quickly and methodically, Jess began painting a webbing of crimson over the entirety of her friend’s now naked body. It looked like nothing so much as an abstract splattering of crooked lines and dots to Jess, even as she let her intuition alone guide her hands, knowing in her gut that somehow it all resonated perfectly.

“What the heck is that supposed to do, Jess?" Malek finally asked, his frown making it clear that he was unable to make heads or tails of it. "It's even stranger than the markings upon the sack! Your work bears no resemblance to any magic I've ever heard of."

Twilight pinned Malek with his sapphire gaze. “Are you so sure of that, Hound?”

Malek grimaced, blinking, gazing at the work in progress with suddenly haunted eyes. “That's Bloodmagic. All of it! You used it like Rens would his containment wards, and like Josie would her healing arts. By all the gods, Jess, how?"

Jess shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. I’m just hoping it will help.”

Malek gave her a look, then grinned. “Right. What do I know, eh? You've already saved me from one nasty gut wound that should have killed me in short order. I guess things in this realm will pretty much work the way you want them to, if you have the passion sufficient to make your will heard, so to speak.”

Jess smiled back. “Something like that, I’m sure.”

Twilight, however, was gazing at Josie, still panting, with a critical air. “The pattern’s satisfactory, especially for freehand intuition, but you are not quite done yet. This deep in the realm of Shadow, you need to seal your ward off with more than just blood." Gentle sapphire eyes gazed into her own. "It needs to be your soul, Jess. You must anchor her with the love in your heart, the hot resolve locked deep within, such that existence itself recognizes your claim."

Jess took a deep breath. “I know. Horseshite, I know! Bloody hell!” She scrunched her eyes tight, feeling her heart hammering in renewed desperation as Josie’s wheezing, only momentarily eased, began anew. Her mind flashed with Josie’s tremulous smile. So many times they had bonded with wine and laughter, the dearest of friends since their first days at school together, talking late into the night about life, love, their futures, before Jess had become immersed in the life of a Squire. Jess knew Josie had been confused and saddened when she had slowly pulled away, not understanding how difficult it was for her, loving her healer friend so much, even as Jess herself was being trained as the most savage and ruthless of killers, so much blood on her hands during that endless summer.

Jess swallowed. Or perhaps it had been autumn that had captivated them for so very long, leaves only beginning to turn, endless days of reverie interspersed with nights of battle and terror. Jess and her fellow Squires, Eloquin's mad merry band, blackening their daggers and embracing the High Hunt ever more. An eternity locked in a single season, and never before did Jess stop to think that, as much as she had dreamed of adventure, she had been lost in a faerie tale for as long as she could remember.

And now the seasons would turn once more, endless autumn glory embracing winter at last.

“Josie?” Jess’s voice was almost tremulous. She bit her lip so hard it started to bleed.

“Yes, Jess, what's wrong?" Josie asked softly, breathless from the terrible pressure overwhelming her, eyes both filled with fear and, when gazing at Jess, hope. The weight of it made Jess's heart ache.

“I’m going to try something. I don’t know if it will work, but… can I kiss you?”

Josie’s eyes widened with surprise, before gazing upon Jess with a tender warmth. An impish smile teased across her lips. “If a kiss will ignite whatever Druidic magics lie within your heart and save me, then kiss away, my dearest friend. Even Raphael would understand."

Jess grinned at that, recalling all too many times when she had teased them both, having drunk perhaps a bit more wine than had been good for her. Gentle thoughts for saner times, she scolded herself, lost in her friend’s desperate gaze, fingertips gently stroking soft cheeks, as her lips lowered to meet Josie's own.

Their flesh touched, a gentle kiss, and Jess felt her heart hammer with an exhilaration and sweetness that left her suddenly dizzy. Nothing like the terrible rush of battle, but her heart still began to race. Josie’s lips locked upon her own, and Jess murmured her sweet pleasure, every nerve ending tingling, overwhelmed with nameless hunger. She was able to focus her dizzied thoughts only long enough to lick Josie’s tongue with her own bloody one.

Josie gasped in surprise and pulled away, Jess now gently caressing the back of Josie's head, enjoying the silky-smooth feel of Josie’s lush blond tresses, even as she gently whispered words of soothing reassurance into Josie’s ear. “You have to drink it. I have to be one with you, Josie. A part of you. Only then will I have Claimance upon you sufficient to pull you free of this place.”

Josie shuddered only a moment before drinking Jess's kiss, crying softly as their embrace tightened, and Jess kissed her fiercely, passionately, feeling her blood slowly trickle and flow down Josie's throat before she broke off the kiss, Josie left flushed and breathless, gazing into Jess's eyes with awed intensity that left Jess suddenly speechless.

Josie lifted a trembling hand, brushing away locks of hair slipped free of braid and helm. She blinked madly, swallowing, hunting for words she just couldn't find.

Jess forced herself to smile, being the first to say it. "Yes, I love you, Josie. And would fight fiercely to protect you against all foes." She stroked Josie's soft locks, gazing warmly at her friend. "I know you love me in your own way, and how fiercely you regard Raphael, aching for his arms about you even now."

Jess winked. "Raphael is a lucky man. And I am honored to be your knight protector, me and Malek both, leading you back home so you may embrace the love of your life, knowing that your dear sister will always have your back."

Josie grinned, tears flowing freely. "I love you, Jess. You really are my hero. I could never, ever ask for a better friend." She turned to Malek. "That goes for you too, Malek. I can never repay either of you for saving my life. For caring enough to brave nightmare itself, for my sake. From the bottom of my heart... thank you both."

Malek flourished a bow. "We're all members of the Circle of Midnight, the best band of friends one could hope to find anywhere. Naturally if hideous abominations are going to drag you into nightmare, Jess and I will pull you out again." Malek winked. "After all, who else would bother making sandwiches for the likes of us, if we didn't keep you safe?"

Josie's laughter was rich and strong. It took every ounce of will to resist kissing Josie once more. Flushed, Jess looked away, chilled by what she saw.

The cat then turned his gaze to the source of Jess's shock. “Ooh, look at that. The tower is fading to mist.” Twilight yawned. “We will have to leave here shortly, I fear. The turning of the seasons can be delayed no longer. Come, my queen. Best we return and finish Winter's tale."

Jess swallowed at that, feeling the dire weight of her familiar's words, knowing she was taking a terrible gamble, praying that her flash of intuition was accurate. "Do you think it will work?"

Twilight grinned. "Only one way to find out. Come, Jess. You have made your choice. It is time for us to see how it all plays out."

Malek’s eyes widened as he glanced back to see that the massive tower that had so dominated the sanctuary of the grove was now no more than a mist-cloaked structure wavering oddly through the fog. The tower's once solid and foreboding presence was now ephemeral, dissolving before his very eyes. And the mist appeared to be expanding.

Come on, shieldsister. Let’s go!” Quickly donning their gear, Malek and Jess did a speedy check of their armaments, making sure all straps were tight and secure, before slipping both their tabards upon Josie's naked form.

"Sorry, Josie, I would give you my gambeson, but..."

Josie's gaze was one of growing panic. "But that hideous fog is closing in on us. I know, Jess, let's just go!"

Holding hands, moving as one, the three young students of Highrock solemnly entered the dark forest serving as the border between the realms of dreams and reality, the grove behind them fading once more into the mists of what could have been.

56

Jess felt a cold chill trickle up and down her spine as they made their way through the strange woods. Thick pine having morphed somehow to gigantic lichens of vast size, the cry of strange beasts could be heard in the rooftop canopy arching far overhead. Jess, still carrying the rune-covered sack, gazed worriedly at a heavily panting Malek looking back at her with haunted eyes, even as he did his best to help support Josie, understanding that Jess's own burden was far greater than it might seem.

Jess groaned, feeling as if the weight of Winter itself was crashing down upon her.

“Not an easy transition, is this?” Malek cracked a grin.

Jess mutely shook her head, forcing herself onward, feeling the power echoing and surging through her dream form boil within her. In some indescribable way, she compelled herself to hold tight, imagining that she was like a sheep’s bladder stuffed with the power of dreams boiling away in a cauldron of darkest shadow. She felt set to burst, grimacing painfully as she imagined placing massive hands around herself, holding her skin and all the terrible energies trapped within her frame tightly together with every fiber of her will, even as it all tried to burst free.

Josie, so happy and effervescent but moments ago, fell to the ground with a shudder.

“Josie!” Jess cried, Malek catching her fall with an instinctive grace that made him so deadly on the battlefield, now carrying their fallen companion in his arms, for all that he looked ready to collapse himself.

"Keep it together, my friends," Jess urged. "We will make it, I know we will!"

Josie tried to smile but started to cough and groan. Malek holding her tight, eyes filled with panic. "Jess, what do we do?"

"We push on!" Twilight snapped. "We are caught between a past that never was and a future we are in danger of losing altogether. This is not a good place to linger!”

“Bloody know-it-all cat,” Malek wheezed, for all that he picked up his struggling pace as best he could.

Over an endless moment that seemed to stretch for eternity, the forest once again morphed back to the familiar beech, pine, and oak that covered the hills around Highrock. Jess eased a sigh of relief as the fierce currents that had sought to pull them under, to hurdle them all into the vast and terrible Abyss that was in some unspeakable way beneath all creation, at last receded.

“One final push, my friends,” Jess said as they came at last upon that final barrier between the realm of the living and the Shadowrealms in which they had dared to tread.

With a deep breath, Jess held the sack covered helm tight and pushed through, feeling the weird icy cold membrane resist her at first as if she was being pummeled by all the weight and fury of Winter itself. Crying out with a final heave, Jess at last popped through, collapsing to the snow-covered ground, instantly chilled, caught in a storm of shrieking winds, blinded by endless snow.

“Malek?” she instinctively called, relieved to feel the weight of Twilight as he leaped off her shoulder, knowing that her cat, at least, was safe.

She felt a tug on her arm. Her friend’s fierce grip. She clenched her companion’s wrist firmly and gave a mighty tug. Josie suddenly appeared, heaving and gasping, eyes filled with unspeakable terror as a heaving Malek suddenly burst into existence, carrying her still.

“Thanks, Jess,” Malek gasped, laughing weekly. “That barrier just didn’t want me to pop back through! Took all my effort, for I refused to let go of Josie, no matter how the much the damned shadows howled and begged for her soul."

Malek gave a satisfied nod even as Josie paled at his words. "By the gods, we did it!”

“Yes, we did!" Jess cried out in fierce triumph, holding her shieldbrother close. "Thank you, Malek. Together, we did it. We made it, with treasure to show for it. We are adventurers in truth, and finally free!" Her laughter was filled with a sense of exhilaration, and Malek's eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth before he too chuckled.

“It’s good to see you in high spirits, Jess. Damn, but that was an adventure.”

Josie gazed admiringly at them both. “Adventurers and heroes beyond compare. And never have I been so grateful to have such friends as you two.” She gave Malek a hug and a kiss on the cheek "Thank you for pulling me through, Malek. I know you could have let me go at any time, but you didn't. No matter how those foul voices taunted, you refused to let me go."

Jess swallowed, suddenly struck by how close they had come to losing Josie during that perilous escape.

Malek held Josie close, smiling even as the shrieking wind tangled his curls, pausing only long enough for Jess to free him of his priceless bronze breastplate as chilly snow swirled about them.

Josie frowned, even as she shivered in Malek's arms. "That's solid bronze, Jess, and worth a fortune! It will get lost. And why in the blazes is it snowing? It was summer when we left!"

Jess curtly shook her head. "It matters not what season it was when we first entered dream, right now we are in the middle of a blizzard! You, Josie, are shivering half to death with only two tabards protecting you. Malek has to hold you close, and metal between you two does not serve you now. We can always replace the breastplate. We can't replace you."

Josie shivered, now feeling the wind bite through her, shaking even as she forced a nod. "You're right. Thank you. I know Raphael will make it up to you just, please, let's find shelter, okay?"

Jess gave a curt nod, sensing their peril, looking towards the woods she could sense flowing endlessly behind her, as much brilliant evergreens as spindly snow-covered trunks shorn of all leaves, knowing that if there was ever a time for her to embrace her gifts at finding shelter warm and dry, it was now.

"No need, my mistress," Twilight soothed. "If you but turn to your left and head just a few hundred yards, you will be out of the trees and just a field's distance from the school. And do not worry about frostbite claiming fingers or toes. If you didn't already note, you are far stronger than what you once were."

Jess swallowed and nodded, realizing that as much as the howling storm left her chilled and miserable, she did not shiver uncontrollably, and no part of her was going numb. Not yet.

"Step just behind me, Malek. Twilight knows the way to the school."

57

Malek nodded, chilled and awed by all he had scene and experienced, still feeling the odd connection he had with his shieldsister, so akin they had felt in body and mind in the depths of darkest dream. He grinned despite the bitter cold, finding Josie's body almost weightless, filled as he was with the heady rush of having escaped the horrors of living nightmare, while reveling in the sweet taste of victory and power he had savored that night, having faced unspeakable adversity and triumphed.

“So, Twilight,” he said almost offhandedly, his eyes focused upon Jess's brilliant hair, golden locks now interspersed with strands like crimson fire, somehow bright enough for him to see even through the howling storm as he strove to keep up. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that little conversation you had with the lich before Jess finished it off. Twilight?” He looked around, wondering if Twilight had turned invisible once more before registering the inky blackness that seemed to smother the very heavens above.

Eyes blazing with the fires of dying suns locked upon his own.

Malek stumbled, desperately holding onto Josie, struck by visions of madness and horror, the screams of countless lost souls. His mind blazed with endless images of fierce struggles, flashes of horrific blood-soaked battlefields, entire cities exploding in terrible maelstroms of light, heat, and flame. He collapsed before crimson skies billowing toxic fumes, a hideous howl echoing through the burning heavens, lightning crackling from horizon to horizon.

Death of Stars. Endless Night.

You and I have destroyed worlds, my brother.

Malek blinked and gasped, finding himself splayed upon the forest's edge, Jess gazing down at him with alarm, shaken to his core. For he recognized all too well the pitch and timbre of the voice that had roared through his skull, grateful only that he had already forgotten the words that had been said.

“Don’t do that again, okay Twilight? Whatever that was? If that was you and not a figment of my imagination? Damn. What a night,” he muttered, even as he heard voices up ahead.

"Malek, what are you talking about?" Jess's voice, harsh and urgent. "Thank the gods you didn't drop Josie. Are you all right? Come on, we've made it to the forest's edge. We've got to keep moving and get you both to shelter fast!"

“Hail travelers! Any lost souls out this night?” Cried a guardsman holding a lantern up high with one hand, other on sword hilt, both of them wearing thick cloaks and clearly shivering in this, the first winter storm Jess could remember seeing at Highrock for ages... for all that it could only have been a year since the last time the fields had been painted a glorious white.

Malek blinked those confusing thoughts away, focusing upon the pair of guards below, both doing a cursory patrol on the very outskirts of the line of trees, separated from the college proper by a vast tract of grasslands kept bare of woods both for defensive purposes and to serve as training grounds for the students.

Of course they wouldn’t be so foolish as to enter the woods proper, a bemused Malek noted. Though what good they thought they could do just skirting the edge, save serve as prey for enemy scouts, their bright torches raised up high, yet giving little visibility in this awful storm. Malek could only wonder if the torches had somehow been enchanted, not to have been immediately extinguished by the storm.

Malek gave a sad shake of his head, well able to imagine what Eloquin would have to say if he were in charge of patrols, having trained his elite students in how best to strike and kill their enemies in just such a situation. For that matter, Malek wondered, why were they not just safely in the college that was built into the side of a vast mountain and as well fortified as many a castle? It was then that Malek heard the exasperated voices of his friends and it all became clear.

“That is hardly necessary, sir,” insisted a much-missed Alex, he and Jera both standing by the guardsman’s side, both wrapped tight in cloaks, shivering in the winter gale. The sight of them filled Malek with immeasurable relief, as if to signify that they had truly made it. They were finally home. And, just as importantly, their friends that had been snared in the lich’s binding magics had indeed made it safely back. Malek noted the odd pulsing globe of light now hovering over Alex’s right hand, and Jera by his side was holding a crackling ball of energy that hissed with arcane potency.

“Alex, Jera! Over here!" Malek cried excitedly, waving at them from the tree line. "Don't fire your spell globes, it's us!"

The guards looked a bit spooked, before blinking, smiling ruefully, and sheathing their swords, even as Malek rushed over to grip his friends in a fierce bear hug. "By the gods above, it's good to see you guys! What an adventure. What a bloody adventure we had! Are you two all right? Did everyone else make it back okay?"

Jera, her firm, composed demeanor broken with a tearful grin, hugged Malek back fiercely. "Oh by the gods, it's good to see you again, Malek! We had feared you and Jess eternally lost in that tower. And you found Josie!"

Jera raced to a once more upright Josie's side, the pair of them both sobbing with relief, even as Alex gently enfolded Jera in his arms, kissing the top of her head.

“It's okay, Jera. We all survived. That's all that matters," Alex whispered soothingly into her hair.

Jera shuddered once more and nodded her head. “You are right, my love. That really is all that matters.”

Malek cracked a grin. “Finally saying it aloud, are we? It’s about time.”

Alex just smiled, holding Jera and Josie both as they all took comfort in one another, the warmth around Alex making it clear that his elementalist magics were keeping the worst of the bitter cold at bay.

Jera, Malek thought, had never looked more at ease than when she was in Alex's arms. "I realized something tonight," Alex said at last. "For all our work and desire to forge our own destinies, all my striving for knowledge and power, and yes, prestige; even my unspoken need to make a name for myself in the annals of scholarly history? Doesn't mean diddly in the face of death."

Malek laughed, giving his friend an affectionate clap of approval.

Alex grinned “Life, my friend, is too precious to waste not embracing it to the fullest. And the thought that our pursuit of knowledge almost cost us our lives, the realization that Jera almost…” He shuddered, hugging Jera fiercely. “I know what matters most, now. I will present myself to her family come this spring, and we will decide our destinies, together.”

“Oh, Alex!” Jera’s eyes were shining and their kiss was fierce, filled with their love and longing for each other.

One of the guards cleared his throat in bemused embarrassment.

Jera broke off her kiss, smiling into her lover’s eyes, before turning back to Malek. “But enough on that! Why's Jessie just standing there?"

Malek blinked, catching her sister's gaze, understanding in that moment the terrible burden she bore.

But one heartfelt glance, and he knew exactly what he had to do.

"Alex. Jess can't enter the college. She dare not. Not yet."

Heart hammering, he swallowed and said what he must. "We need to get Eloquin. He needs to stand with us."

Alex blinked. Eyes widening with disbelief. "Surely you can't mean to stand out here in this storm? It is madness! Expelled or not, the dean dare not force you to endure this weather, it will be the death of you!"

"You must come back to the keep," Jera gushed. "Why, from what I understand, you two are proven Delver's now. No matter past indiscretions, you are immune from censure and would be coming as guests as Highrock. More than that, saviors even."

Alex nodded. "Bards have actually entered our keep, Malek. The whole school is alive with celebration, the cook whipping up a grand feast! It's like they can sense things unfolding, the weave of the story we tell. They are here to record it. As if they knew you and Jess would make it!"

And much to Malek's surprise, Jess nodded her agreement. "You are right, Alex. The bards need to be told. It's time for this tale to come to an end."

"But Jess," Malek hissed, "what about what's in the sack?"

Malek grimaced as he met her gaze. As cold and unforgiving as the ice capped peaks that separated Erovering from so much of the continent. Never had he seen his shieldsister look so ruthless, so determined as she did at that moment.

He swallowed, breathless, gazing back to the snow covered keep they had called home for so very long, somehow knowing that there was nothing that would bring them closer to disaster than that helm in the school proper. For a second he entertained the wild fantasy of grabbing the sack and racing for the trees, but the look in Jess's eyes froze him in his tracks.

He loved her too much to doubt her now.

Even if it doomed the entire school.

58

Twilight?

You know this has to happen, Jess. This tale must come to an end.

“By the great Goddess herself, Jess, I think that really is a shirt of mithril mail you’re wearing!” Alex whistled admiringly, though blushing as soon as he caught Jera’s reproving gaze. “And thank you for saving our friend. We were truly terrified she was lost to us, forever. But um, Jess, I can’t help noting that our dear Josie appears to be covered with hmm… sigils or runes of dried blood?”

Jess nodded matter-of-factly as her boots crunched through the snow, her focus primarily upon the grand double oak doors that served as the entrance to the massive keep they had all called home for so very long. “Correct. I needed it to help keep her from being crushed by the eldritch essences that form the fluid ether of the Dreamrealm. And to pull her through the veil.”

Alex raised a speculative eyebrow. “Interesting use of terms, my friend. I didn’t realize you had taken up such a deep study of the metaphysical properties of the Shadowrealms. May I ask your sources? I’d love to follow up with your research, to study the formulae and equations that form the framework for your protective sigils.”

Jess flashed a cheeky grin. “That would be kind of hard, Alex. I just made it up as I went along! Eldritch essences, fluid ether, nice crunchy words with a good ring to them, don't you think?”

Alex chuckled softly. "Of course. I should have known. And I'm guessing the sigils aren't the product of dedicated research into the underlying arcane principals forming the framework of dream constructs, but rather a flash of inspiration you just pulled out of your derriere, without a single equation to guide those of us who are less inspired?"

Jess winked. “Of course!”

Josie smiled for all that she was clearly exhausted, shivering in frigid weather despite Alex's magics and the cloaks the guards had solemnly handed Malek, who quickly wrapped a shivering Josie snugly in them before carrying her effortlessly in his arms. "A scholar's masterwork or a Druid's inspiration, either way, Alex, I'm just grateful beyond words that Jess was there for me. I shudder to think what would have happened, had I been forced to endure those hideous pressures even a moment longer."

Josie's words turned solemn, filled with meaning, and she gazed deeply into Jess’s blushing face as Malek strode by his shieldsister's side. “She saved my life, when I was doubly doomed. Just as Malek refused to let me go at the barrier between reality and dream, no matter how those evil specters of nightmare whispered vile temptations and horrific threats, doing all they could to compel him to drop me and flee. And I will never forget it. Never be able to repay it, save to let them both know that I will always be there, should they ever have need of me.”

Jess grinned, her heart lightening with those words, doing her best to ignore the growing glances of panic and alarm Malek sent her way.

For some reason, he blanched at her glare, stumbling back. Really. Didn't he understand that this was the way it had to be? Jess frowned at her familiar, who flashed a smug smile in turn. "Sometimes your Hound can be remarkably dense. A character flaw, I suppose."

One of the guards awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, all's well that ends well, by Justice! Let's get you students back to the main hall. There's a big celebratory dinner for the adventurers that helped save the enchanters' circle. And, of course, the bards will be wanting to hear your story so they can put it to song, a tale to be remembered through the ages."

Jess chuckled. "Gods above know I could certainly use a bite to eat!" She gave vent to a great, jaw-cracking yawn and blinked in bleary-eyed surprise. "Strange. An hour ago, back at the tower, I felt like I had the energy of a dozen men. Now? I feel like I can barely stand."

Jess winced at her familiar's prick. "And stand you must, Jess. Stand tall and strong through this bitter cold night, and see this through to the end."

Jess swallowed at those words, heart pounding, the faint prick of terror instantly washing drowsy fatigue away.

She could almost swear she had heard the cold mocking laughter of Winter's helm, for all that she tightly held her rune lined sack, relieved to see her familiar's measured nod.

"It should hold, Jess. For now."

Alex nodded solemnly as the group headed back toward the keep. “There is a reason for your fatigue, Jess. And a reason why bards are so revered in our culture, especially by adventurers themselves. The events of Delvings, however fantastic, tend to fade from one’s mind once one succumbs to sleep upon returning. That is why the image of adventurers telling their tales to bards and storytellers over campfires is such a popular one. It is an image based on truth. Otherwise, the Delvers have no way to capture their glory.”

Alex flashed Jess a bemused smile even as he continued his lecture as they made their way back to the central keep, though Jess didn't see how she could possibly forget a single moment of the wild and terrible adventure she had just survived.

“For the memories, however potent and visceral they seem to you right now, will like as not to fade to dream once your eyes close in sleep, as the realm of dreams seeks to ease away memories of those events taken place outside the realm of man. Why else do we slumber, after all, but to refresh our minds and bodies? And freeing ourselves from the lingering filaments of dream to anchor ourselves more firmly into this reality is one of the purposes of sleep, or so proposed any number of early philosophers.”

Jess gazed at Alex. “But what about the items we found? My mithril mail. Anything else we might have discovered.” This with a meaningful glance at her sack. “Will it fade to the land of dreams as well upon the morning’s dawn?”

Alex grinned, shaking his head. "No worries on that account. You pulled it, you keep it. Or else there would be no reason or motivation for adventurers to risk their lives, right? The moment you managed to break through the barrier between the realms of Shadow and mundus with your shirt of mithril intact, at that very instant it became a true thing. One might even argue that you did not find that mithril hauberk at all, so much as create it whole cloth from your own imagination, your entire adventure but a dream, its formation powered by the force of your own spirit and will. This would explain why Delvers report that it is far harder to cross the barrier between worlds with many items, as opposed to only a few."

Jess nodded. “A dream that near killed a dozen of our fellows. Nearly doomed our entire school.” Jess flashed a bitter smile. "A dream that we have yet to wake from, when all is said and done."

“A dark dream indeed,” Alex agreed with a sigh, handing Jess a flask of still hot cider as they strolled back to the college. Jess nodded her gratitude, taking a refreshing sip of the drink before passing it to Malek and Josie.

“But no worries, Jess. Regardless of how it comes to be, once an item manifests here upon the plane of mundus, it is here in truth. And that is but one way the power of Shadow manifests itself here. You already know the tales. Those Delvers that survive their trials often become far stronger and tougher than other men, perhaps even gaining odd talents and powers of their own.” Alex gazed meaningfully at the red sigils covering Josie.

“It will be interesting to see how you two fare on the training fields,” Alex grinned. “I have no doubt that General Eloquin himself will probably want to spar with both of you, whatever your current status as adventurers or students, simply to measure how much your adventure has changed you, if at all.”

Buoyed by Alex's cheerful banter, Jess hardly minded the biting cold, she and her companions soon safely inside the great keep of Highrock once more. Of course, not everyone was happy to see them.

"You failed this school, you failed yourself! How dare you set foot within these hallowed halls, failed supplicant! Had you any decency, you would have taken vows at the nearest monastery, too ashamed to, raise your head before anyone. How pathetic that delusion still claims you. That you think yourself worthy of the least shred of acclaim or virtue!"

Jess shuddered at those words, cutting her deeper than any blow.

After all she had been through, all she had endured, to be so castigated... her hands trembled with fury as she glared at Professor Chevalier, lurching back in sudden alarm, trembling before Jess's gaze.

Dark laughter filled her mind, caressing her soul. The howling winds of Winter caressed her bitter wrath, whispering dark secrets of all the things she could do to the mocking, derisive fools that had made so much of her time at Highrock a bitter, struggling hell.

"Jess! What are you doing?"

Jess shuddered, shoulder stinging with Twilight's reproof, catching her familiar's alarmed gaze, only then realizing how her hand had almost released its tight grip on the sack of crimson runes glowing faintly in the magelight... but a heartbeat from picking free her careful knot.

"Jess!" Malek, haunted gaze, catching her own.

She shuddered and lowered her head, suddenly filled with shame.

"That's right, wretch! Lower your head and get the hell out of this keep!" Professor Chevalier screamed, her voice raw with unmistakable terror, her desperate sob not that of an instructor but of a young woman in terror, even as protective arms held her close.

Jess blinked, seeing Neal's arm protectively around her, gently clasping her maimed hand.

"That's enough, Sue," Neal whispered. "That's enough."

She gave a furious shake of her head. "No, Neal. It can't be. She almost got you killed. All of you killed! One moment of unchecked fury, goaded into her foe's trap, a moment she can never take away."

Neal sighed, holding her close, eyes filled with unspoken apology. "It's not that simple, Sue. She didn't charge in alone. I was by her side, leading half our number. I'm sorry I can say no more than that, but honestly, Sue, had Jess not led the charge? I was a heartbeat from doing so myself, consequences be damned."

The young professor blanched. "Oh, Neal. Please tell me you would not have given in to such folly. Please..."

Alex sighed, shaking his head. "Jess and Neal might have sworn oaths never to reveal a Squire's missions, but this idiocy has gone on long enough."

Professor Chevalier frowned at Alex's tone, for all that she did not part Neal's comforting embrace.

"Professor Chevalier, the reason why Jess was made to wear a supplicant's robes isn't because she shirked her duty. It isn't because she was goaded by the enemy like a fool. It's because she was mad with fright to save her friends."

Jera nodded. "We swore no oaths to Eloquin, so we will say what you should have heard long ago. A dozen of us were tricked and drugged while on an arcane expedition. We awoke to find ourselves being led to an ancient sight of black mass, our captors gloating with Velheim accents about how we would soon be spending all of eternity screaming in hellfire, bitter sacrifices for their unholy master." Jera shuddered and paled with those words, the professor gazing at Jera with something close to shock, turning to Neal, his grim expression denying nothing.

Alex shuddered. "It's true. They, they had just drawn obsidian knives, had leaned the first of us over in preparation for sacrifice, when I swear I could hear the awful awful of something far off, cackling for our souls." He turned to Jess, his gaze so reverent that Jess flinched and looked away, feeling utterly unworthy.

"That's when Jess, Malek, and Neal led their charge, racing to our rescue, a flood of Squires just behind them. And thank all the gods above that they did." Alex bowed. "Jera and I owe Jess, Malek, your beau, and all those Squires who dared to disobey their master a debt of love and honor we can never hope to repay. And every time I see some damned fool slight Jess, it is everything I can do not to set them ablaze with fire hot enough to scorch stone."

Jess forced a laugh. "No need for that, my friend. I'd prefer that at least a few of us manage to graduate without getting expelled."

Sue trembled, haunted gaze locking with Jess's for some moments before she abruptly spun out of Neal's grasp with a soldier's grace, heading back down the hallway at a clip Neal would be hard pressed to match.

Neal's smile tore at Jess's heart. "I am sorry, Jess, that things went the way they had. I've tried to reason with her, but..."

"But she still hasn't forgiven her own folly. Whatever mistake that cost her men their lives and her the full use of her hand haunts her still. And to see folly in another, when she still condemns herself... I understand, Neal, I always did."

Neal frowned, before slowly dipping his head. "Of course you would figure it out. Thanks for never taking it out on her, Jess."

Jess sighed. "I think that in another time and place, she and I could have been friends. It's good to see you, Neal. No doubt you will hear about our adventures soon enough. But I think a certain girl needs you by her side."

"I think you're right." Neal smiled. "I look forward to hearing of your adventures later. And Jess? Welcome back." With that he pivoted on his heel, hurrying after his girl, Jess and Malek exchanging bemused grins.

"Of course he would fall for the professor that hates your guts," Malek teased.

Jess shrugged. "She's young, beautiful, brilliant and damaged. Neal never forgave himself for losing Erica's heart. I'm not surprised, really."

Malek clapped her shoulder. "I think your right, Jess, and I do believe I hear the sound of revelry just ahead."

Alex nodded. "Let's head to it! The guards had the taste to fade away so they wouldn't be obligated to report anything they saw, not that I'm going to judge one of my rescuers with pursuing a professor, mind you, but the less they are out in the open about it, the less accusations of favoritism they will have to endure."

Jera grinned. "And he studies under her, too. Really. If he had chosen to pursue one of the magi, no one would bat an eye, as Neal is as magical as a fish."

"Ah yes, but no professor of magic is a beautiful woman almost Neal's age, looking for a hero to save her." Malek winked. "Though if it's all the same, I think Jess and I would be best served sitting with you and Jera. I'd rather avoid any further hostile glares, if it's all the same."

Alex nodded, sparing Josie a concerned glance. "I won't ask how you have the strength to carry Josie like she weighs next to nothing, Malek, but don't you think we should go to the Healers Wing first?

"Nonsense!" Josie shook her head, flouncing from Malek's bemused grip. "The last thing I want is to be alone in the cold dark. Give me light, warmth, revelry and laughter any day." Holding a borrowed cloak tightly about her, Josie led the way into the dining hall before them, shouts of merriment and good cheer welcoming them all, the hall toasty with the warmth of half the keep's residents crowded within, the smell of ale and roasted meats permeating the air.

59

Jess! You made it back!” Jess felt her heart swell with warm tenderness as she beheld little Louise waving happily at her, her mother favoring Jess with the warmest of smiles as Louise raced toward Jess to catch her in a fierce hug. Jess gently squeezed her back, not even realizing how much she had missed the little girl’s cheerful smile until she saw it once more.

“Ow, Jess. You hug too tight!” Jess laughed softly at this, easing her grip, gazing fondly at a now content Louise, snug in Jess's protective embrace. Louise gazed up at Jess, suddenly shy, for all that she had rushed into her hero’s arms. “I brought you these,” she said softly, bringing her curled fist around so Jess could admire the carefully plucked flowers her dear little helper had gathered, smelling fragrant and wonderful. Jess blinked away a sudden tear as she gently kissed Louise’s forehead before taking a deep whiff of the flowers.

“They are very beautiful,” she assured a now ecstatic Louise. “So colorful, and they smell so wonderful! I’ll bet you picked them out yourself.”

Louise smiled, nodding her head vigorously. “Yes, I did! The roses, tulips, and those pretty wildflowers you like so much I bundled together. But mom helped, a little.”

“And you did a wonderful job," Jess assured a now very pleased Louise, who gave her a tight hug even as Jess gently passed Louise back to Lady Vaila. "It is good to see you both, safe and well," Jess said to the head herbalist as she straightened her daughter's rumpled dress.

Lady Vaila gazed warmly at Jess. “It is I who am grateful to you, dearest Jess. Thank you. For risking your life to save Master Rens and a dozen of our own.”

Jess flushed and grinned, impulsively dragging her shieldbrother close. “Malek deserves at least as much credit as me. Not bad for a couple of students expelled only a week ago.” Malek and Jess smacked palms and hooted, even as Alex, Jera, and several students Jess recognized as fellow apprentices gave a good-natured cheer.

Lady Vaila frowned. "A week? Forgive me for even saying it, but you were expelled months ago. This is the winter solstice, after all."

Jess stumbled with those words.

The grand chamber full of revelry and laughter was suddenly still, warmth replaced with deathly chill, Winter's howling breath shrieking through the air.

"Focus, Jess! No time for folly now. We must see this through." Twilight's words, pulling her back.

Jess shivered, blinking the odd vision away, back in the moment once more, warmth and noise and delightful scents flooding her senses. She ignored Lady Vaila's concerned gaze.

"Come, heroes both. Let me lead you to your table. A feast has been prepared for our triumphant saviors. Feast and be merry, while I put the little one to bed.”

Louise pouted. “But, Mother!”

Lady Vaila tousled her daughter's hair. “I am sorry, my love. Celebrations such as this one tend to go on very late, and our friends are like as not to lose all sense of decorum. The tales they tell on this night will give you nightmares. Let us wait until the morrow. Then she can tell you all about her adventures, all right, my sweet?”

Louis’s delicate features formed into an elegant little pout, but only for a moment, as she carefully considered her mother’s words. Jess smiled at the young girl's thoughtful expression, even as Louise turned back to look at Jess. “I have to go to bed now, Jess. Promise to tell me all about your exciting adventures? Just you and me!”

Jess smiled and waved at her little helper. “I promise, little one. When next we tend to our garden, I shall share all of our adventures in exciting detail.”

“Not too exciting, I hope.” Lady Vaila smiled in farewell as Jess and her companions headed deeper into the great hall. Jess felt her cheeks stretch into a happy grin even as Rens, looking larger than life with his brilliant shaggy hair and burgundy tunic, waved them over with a hearty cheer.

"Malek, Jessica, I see you have recovered our Josie. Thank all the gods. Now grab yourselves a seat as we Celebrate the Solstice and the heroes of the hour!"

Jess laughed for merriment then, raising the linked hands of shieldbrother and friend alike, delighting in so many warm gazes sent her way from the table filled with Rens's favored, no matter that she and Malek had been expelled what now seemed months ago.

Jess gave a rueful shake of her head even as Josie suddenly took off, squealing with delight, racing into the arms of none other than Raphael diOnni, dressed as elegantly as any lord could be as he swung his beau about, and no shame at all as he sobbed with relief at her rescue, turning to gaze at Jess and Malek with a look of such gratitude that Jess felt her cheeks redden.

"Jess. Malek. Truer friends I could never ask for. Thank you. Thank you so much for rescuing my Josie."

Josie sobbed and nodded, holding her beau fiercely tight. "They really are heroes, you know. They saved my life."

Raphael nodded, bowing his head toward a pair of men wearing smiles as warm and charming as any girl could dream of, and attire so bright and jarring Jess really did wince and look away. "I look forward to hearing their story in its entirety, my love, and here before us we have two of the Guild's own bards to record the tale."

The pair of men bowed as one. "Nothing would please us more than hearing of this mysterious adventure embraced by Eroving's newest pair of Delvers. To hear of their feats of adventure and derring-do." The closest one with blond locks so pale they were like cornsilk flowing elegantly down his shoulders winked at Jess, nodding his head to Rens who was even at that moment waving for them to sit down.

"First, our young heroes should refresh themselves! With bellies full and hearts at ease, we would love to hear their tale," Rens insisted.

The feast was an excellent affair, warmth and good cheer accompanying food both scrumptious and exquisite; sturdy dining tables all but groaning under the weight of platters piled high with grilled fish, succulent pork, braised lamb and any number of delicacies, items out of season stored by dint of careful engineering and wizardly artifice.

Jess and Malek took immense delight in regaling the flatteringly attentive bards with tales of their daring, having come to instant accord with a single glance and nod to embrace candor and embellish nothing, so that the cold iron truth of their tale would ring sonorous, all the more worthy of being told.

They did not hesitate to admit to the fear and horror that had washed over them when they had faced the various twisted denizens of nightmare inhabiting that dread tower, any more than they did the wrath and jubilation that they had felt, facing off against hideous foes, rescuing maidens fair and precious, claiming treasures wondrous and grand.

“Fantastic. Brilliant fencing form!” Declared one of the frantically writing scribes. “But how exactly did you defeat that demonic creature blocking the hallway?”

Jess smiled, enjoying the drama as she slowly unsheathed her pitted sword. “It’s all in the blood. Just as we can control the image of a dream if we are but aware of it, so too it stands to reason that our very flesh trumps the flesh of dreams, even sentient dreams inhabiting realms of Shadow and nightmare. And since my blade is far sharper and more durable than my flesh, I cut my cheek and laced my blade with my own blood. It thus became a part of me, an extension of me, directed by my will, allowing me to cut through the crimson chords that bound those foul creatures to living dream, and thus I was able to slay them!”

One of the bards whistled. “I had never heard of anything like that before. Brilliant, my lady. Brilliant!”

Malek nodded, grinning wryly but happily. “She’s bloody brilliant when it comes to any sort of fight. No one I’d rather have by my side.” He then turned to Jacob who had slunk so furtively to their table, gazing at Malek like a lost puppy afraid his former master would kick him. Yet Malek had done no such thing, plopping a slender Jacob into his lap as if he weighed nothing, holding his hand, gazing at him with warm pride. “Well, except for you, dear Jacob,” he whispered, caressing the back of his lover’s neck and bringing him in close for a fierce kiss, no longer caring what anyone thought. Jacob gasped in surprise, before falling into his lover’s embrace.

The colorfully dressed bard cleared his throat. “Indeed. You two Delvers make an astoundingly effective pair. Now we would love to hear more about your final encounter, how you managed to rescue young Josie de Lakare and the stalwart students helping Master Rens with his great working, Lady Jess.”

Jess nodded, her sword now in the hands of Rens who was whistling in amazement as he carefully eyed the pitted blade. “After we found my mithril shirt, we heard panicked cries, and we knew our friends were in trouble. It then became a mad race against time, and it felt as if the mists of winter were closing in."

Swallowing, Jess told of her encounter with Ubel Niedrig, grimly recounting the horrific acts he had been responsible for, the lives of desperate children lost, children forgotten as if they had never been, to fuel his mad thirst for power. A hunger that had spelled his own doom in the end, consigned to the form of a horrific revenant, trapped in rotting flesh, and how furiously he had fought, as deadly a battle as she had ever faced, and one that had almost spelled her doom.

"And yet, you survived," noted the nearest bard. "What was your secret?"

Jess turned to the bard, her gaze solemn. "Just as important as blooding my blade, I needed to embrace the horror all around me. No longer fearing the awful taint that is darkest Shadow, for all that it warps and destroys so many, if the stories are true. No longer exhausting myself, pushing it away. I found the courage to drink deep from that cup of bubbling madness. Only then was I able to bring him down."

"She was incredible," Malek whispered. "Their blades flashed quick and deadly, all the other thralls becoming staggered and disjointed. It's the only reason why I wasn't overwhelmed." He shrugged. "I halfway think they were Ubel's puppets, unable to focus on fighting when their master had channeled all their power, committed to trying to bring Jess down."

Jess nodded. "But he wasn't the true puppetmaster."

Malek flashed a bleak smile. "Not even the lich was, but he was a terrible foe. You could feel death skittering in your innards when he talked, as if you were already dead and buried, he come with mocking laughter to tear free your trapped soul."

Jess nodded. "But fear had touched even the lich's heart the moment he found that he was not immune to my blows. Fearsome and terrible as he was, his vile necromantic arts were no match for a blade burning with blood quickened with the will and fury of the living. Then he started spouting this drivel about my being a creature of Hell, just because he hadn’t managed to best me in two moves.” She shook her head. “Who knows? Maybe he would have been able to summon some terrible power to smite me, but instead he wasted his time bringing his dark runes to life at our feet.”

The bards gasped at this, the scribe stopped his scribbling and the room subtly quieted. "We saw them," Alex confirmed. "Through our wardings, we saw the room light up with crimson sigils, burning as if, yes, from the very fires of Hell. Truly we thought we were done for, but like I said earlier, Jess walked through them unharmed. Even we could hear her blade ring against the stone tiles, and the sigils all ruptured."

Jess nodded. “Exactly. Same blood on my blade that cut through his cloaking magics also sliced through the abyssal wardings the lich had lain on his tiles. But really, how could he hope that would work? I’m human.” She grinned. “I guess you could say he went for a feint I didn’t even know I had laid out for him to fall for."

Twilight grinned. "That's one interpretation of events," he quipped, Jess all too happy to ignore him.

Jess went on to describe the perilous battles in graphic detail per the bards' requests, pausing only to sip from her cup before finishing with the lich's dying scream. "As awful as he was, as much as I wanted to flee, I turned fear to fury, seized the Vor, and here I am, alive and able to tell the tale."

"And I would expect no less from a girl who had the courage to ride under my banner for as long as you had, Jessica de Calenbry."

Jess turned to meet General Eloquin's stare. She had not expected to be giving a graphic blow by blow account of her first battle against foes in the Dreamrealms with bards and scribes hanging on to her every word, all while under the measuring gaze of her mentor. A man whom she admired more than anyone else at the school, and one whom she had unfinished business with, that must be seen through.

Eloquin's piercing gaze made it suddenly clear that her former master already knew what she was going to say.

Malek nodded. "That's when the creature's spell-trap broke, and our friends were pulled back to mundus, safe under the blue skies of Dawn once more."

Rens, like everyone else listening to their accounts, raised his mug, with all the surviving students of that ill-fated venture giving a round of cheer. “Indeed! We returned successfully, the evil spell was broken, and our heroes even brought back one of our own we had thought long lost! A cheer to Jess and Malek. Adventurers and heroes extraordinaire!”

The enchanters' circle beat their table with mugs frothing with good Highrock ale, cheering for their saviors, and the great eating hall itself was filled with celebration and applause.

The attentive bard nodded, and Jess couldn’t help but be flattered by how fixated he was on her every word. “Well done, Lady Jess. You did the forces of justice a good turn this night, stopping that loathsome creature and his evil machinations."

Jess flashed the bleakest of smiles. "The story is not over yet, I'm afraid."

Sparrow, the name of the dark-haired bard who moved in his attire as sensually as any dancer immediately lurched back, eyes widening in alarm as he caught sight of the rune covered sack Jess had slammed upon the table.

And everyone heard, then, the howling of Winter.

60

Bloody hells, did someone leave the front doors open?" One lad muttered. "It's suddenly as chilly as the dickens."

Others murmured similar sentiments, but the haunted gaze Rens and the bard both favored Jess with made it clear they understood that something terrible stood dark sentinel, just beyond their ken.

"We await your tale, my lady," Sparrow whispered, captivated by the bag. "I can't help but notice the sigils of potency scribed upon that burlap sack."

Jess flashed a cold grin. "Do you think they are potent enough to keep Winter himself at bay?"

Eloquin's laughter was dark and grim. "No mortal magics will keep that bastard at bay, once Autumn has ended his harvest."

Jess nodded. "As we have." Meeting Eloquin's fearsome gaze, refusing to look away.

"So, you understand, then." Words that seemed to reverberate through the chamber, the entire hall's roar and murmur fading to a hush.

Jess nodded. "We served more than king and Crown, did we not? The High Hunt is more than whispered words uttered by frightened peasants. It represents something far, far older, I think."

Sparrow grew, if anything, even paler, gazing at Eloquin with something very close to horror, stepping back abruptly. "You speak as if the Huntsman, Brother Autumn, is a real force. A real thing. More than an old god long since relegated to song and story."

Eloquin's smile was bleak and strange. "Are not stories your province? Bards and tale-tellers have been around since the first hunters sought Autumn's bounty, wives and children sharing tales and roots by the fire, frigid Winter just a dying breath away. Ever have the tribes of man paid their respects to Autumn, reaping the harvest of beasts and man, purging threats and stocking larders to survive bitter times ahead, the world locked in ice and snow."

Jess blinked, for a second seeing the fearsome general as a massive figure decked out in furs, obsidian tipped spear in hand, a rack of antlers fit to do any stag proud upon his skull. She shook her head and the odd fancy was gone. It was clear though, from the way both bards were staring at Eloquin, that they were all but spell-bound, as if lost in the stories they had only observed from afar before.

Every Squire who had ever blackened his or her dagger had fallen to one knee, fists to chest, saluting their lord. Even the headmaster was gazing at Eloquin with an odd sort of reverence, bowing his head as dignified as any dean could.

Twilight grinned. "What a fascinating night this is turning into. Come, my queen. Let us finish our tale."

Jess nodded, gazing at the sack she held in trembling hands. "Even now, for all my runes of blood, no matter the fury that keeps me standing when exhaustion would leave me low, he is only a heartbeat from breaking free."

Sparrow swallowed. "Lady Jess. What do you hold in your sack?"

"Oh gods, it's moving. I see it moving!"

A girl's shriek echoed oddly through the chamber.

Jess gazed at her bag, twisting and writhing in her grip, subtle no longer.

Winter's howling cackle could be heard beating upon the stained-glass windows lining the grand chamber.

Rens's gaze was one of horror. "Jessica, what did you bring in here? Do you seek to doom us all?"

Jess locked gazes with Sparrow. "Let us finish our tale."

The bard gave a shaky nod.

Jess turned to Eloquin. It was all she could do not to tremble before his terrible gaze.

"This is the longest night of winter, is it not, general?"

A solemn nod. "It is."

Jess shuddered. "Good. How long before daybreak?"

His lips curled in a hard grin. Jess almost thought she saw not a man's teeth, but the maw of a wolf. "Not long at all, Calenbry."

Jess swallowed. "But a Squire no more."

Eloquin slowly shook his head. "No warrior can serve two masters. And another thinks to use you as his avatar."

Jess shuddered. "I know."

She turned to the trembling bards. To gaze at all the assembled students and professors, gazing so raptly at the scene unfolding. "I go out to brave the storm. I will stand sentinel until first light. Walk with me if you dare."

And for all that it felt as if she were being crushed by unfathomable pressure, Jess tightly gripped her burlap sack, making her way for the entrance, Malek, Eloquin, and the pair of bards by her side, the braver students quickly bundling up and trailing shortly after.

Jess turned to the closest bard. "Let me tell you the story of Winter. At least, what I understand his tale to be."

As they made their way back to the forest line, gazing down at Highrock buried in ice and snow, their breath steaming in the air, Jess closed her eyes and spoke.

"The lich I faced had many tendrils in place, many pawns, most now dead, bent on seeing this school fall. For he knew that with Highrock's destruction, Autumn would have no choice but to flee to the wilds once more, and Winter would have free reign, perhaps for years, to make up for a perpetual harvest that all of us at this school had mistaken for endless summer, so rich was our bounty of bright, sunny days. Lit, perhaps, by the spirits of all the bandits to fall to the pyres of our wrath, reaping the harvests of so many hunts we had made.

"And never before did I question how we seemed to travel across all of Erovering in the space of a single night, as if space and time were but permutations of a dream older than mankind itself."

She turned to Eloquin, who said not a word.

Shuddering from what she saw in his eyes, fey and terrible, she looked away.

"None of us took it seriously, of course. Endless Summer. How could such a thing be? All of us exactly eighteen years old, savoring every day, even if they did all blend together." Jess shuddered. "But no season will be denied forever, and mortal souls are ill equipped to savor eternity for more than a handful of years."

"You were in no danger, Calenbry." Eloquin's voice. Hard and cold. Pitiless like the seasons. "Your former band of brothers reveled in the hunt, the strength and vitality it gave them. Valiant youth who have served me long and well, they would never be forced to endure age's hoary touch. They would be spared endless years rotting in a hovel, despised by kin that has no further use for them, waiting for the mercy of ignoble death. When it was time for them to move on to the next realm, I would have brought them there directly under my banner, as fierce and alive as the very first day they had dared to ride by my side."

Jess slowly shook her head. "It could not be. I know you too wise to risk burrs in time, but Winter could not be forever ignored. The more seasons allowed to pass endlessly, the greater his wrath became. The lich... he was not always so, was he? Just a pawn, a puppet, like Ubel himself, infected with Winter's wrath. His hate. And so, his mortal pawns made pacts with unclean things. Anything to undermine Autumn's reign."

Eloquin flashed the coldest of smiles. "Finish your tale, Calenbry. The dawn is only moments away."

Jess nodded, even as the frigid cold seemed to deepen, the elementalists among those watching softly muttering spells of warmth and protection under their breath. "After the lich fell... laughter. All around. And a chilling white fog flooding the chamber. One that promised doom with its touch, consigned to the coldest days of our past... for eternity."

Sparrow shuddered. "By the gods... you don't mean like the mist approaching us from the forest edge even now, do you?"

Jess turned and shuddered, struck by sudden horror, sensing that the mist of dream, or perhaps Winter's very doom, had slipped out of story, and into the realm of man.

As had been fated, so very long ago.

Jess swallowed. "Exactly the same."

Sparrow paled, his companion bard squeezing his shoulder so hard he winced. "Hold firm, Sparrow. This tale must be told."

Jess nodded, now gazing at Highrock, the first streams of crimson lighting the heavens ablaze.

"And so, the voice of Winter himself, commending my kill. Demanding that I swear myself to his service, and take up ancient artifacts potent enough to send all of Erovering reeling."

Jess turned to Rens, now gazing at Jess and the growing fog with horror.

"It's true, Professor. The frozen magics caressing sword, dagger, wand, and other various artifacts, interwoven with dozens of blessings and curses... those living tools would give any man the power to rule Erovering as a king." Jess swallowed. "As a god."

"Lady Calenbry."

Jess turned to Sparrow, seeing the way the man's throat bobbed with his breathless whisper. "What, by all the gods, do you have in your sack?"

Jess smiled as the sack writhed and bucked, twisting oddly out of focus then snapping back. Jess grinned even as blood ran down her cheeks, having bit her lip so hard to hold back the screams, so horrific was the frigid bite of winter, chilling flesh and bone.

"It was made clear," Jess whispered, her strength draining at last, "that we would not be permitted to leave until we had chosen our prize. Should we not, Malek and I would be lost, Josie would die, and the story would be reset for the next foolish adventurer to fall to horror, madness, perhaps fulfill darkest destiny as the new avatar of Winter, burying Erovering under endless tons of ice and snow."

Jess turned to the bard, frowning only slightly when he stumbled, falling back upon the snow-covered ground with a cry.

"The spirit of Winter made our doom clear. Even I could taste the truth of it. He would see the burning light that floods Highrock, and we who survived that lich would bring about that doom."

"Saints above, no!" Rens whispered, horror in his voice.

Dean Echobart's normal air of bonhomie turned instantly to steel, hand grasping a wand crackling with darkest magics blazing brilliantly to her eyes, for all that the subtle tool of death was hidden in voluminous robes still.

The eyes of a man who only played the bumbling diplomat held her fast. The gaze of a former commander. A killer. His eyes so like her own.

"Jessica. Please tell me you can disperse this fog."

Jess smiled, gazing at the horizon, the clouds aflame with brilliant fire and gold, the first rays of the sun breaching the heavens at last.

With a wrench, she undid the knots upon her burlap sack, and the howling screams of winter could suddenly be heard by all.

"No, you fool! You will doom us all!" Sparrow cried out, students and professors in sudden panic as the treeline fog billowed forth, a waterfall of frigid death, racing for them.

Winter laughed as Jess caressed the frigid helmet inside the sack, whispering dark temptations, teasing her with visions of a frigid empire, glorious palaces of ice and snow.

It was nothing for Jess to diffuse the black ray of death a panicked Dean Echobart shot at her skull with a simple wave of her hand, blood covered fingers rupturing black strands of necrotic energy as easily as waving away a spider's web.

Jess favored the pale-faced dean with a pitying smile.

"No mortal can stop Winter's champion once she makes her choice, Echobart. That is not how this story ends."

Winter's laughter could be heard by all in the howling winds of the growing storm. "At last, my champion. You embrace your destiny."

Jess nodded even as she brought out the horned helm of Winter to the shrieks and wails of dozens of panicked souls.

And the scream shook them all to silence, the forest itself rustling with the cry.

A wail that echoed endlessly, such that stories would be told in the coming days of Winter's horrid cry as the frigid season finally broke, Spring just a heartbeat away.

Scores of stunned souls stared in awe at the helm Jess held, crackling with eldritch green flame, before turning translucent under the brilliant morning light.

A helm of ice, melting in the morning sun.

Dazed students gazed about as if waking from a dream, shrugging off their cloaks in a day rapidly warming, ice and snow melting with the first kiss of spring, fogs both deadly and mundane evaporating under dawn's brilliant light.

"And so, the doom is fulfilled," Jess whispered from trembling lips, gazing at blood covered fingers, frost-bitten and numb. "I seized one artifact from that chamber of horrors, and with it I witnessed Highrock covered in burning light. It was a doom. Not for Highrock, not for her students, but for Winter itself. Since the solstice marks the shortest day of the year, warmth and the renewal of forest and field are now just a handful of weeks away."

The pair of bards gazed at each other before nodding as one, flashing proud smiles and applause. "Well done, Jessica Winterslayer, well done."

A moment of absolute stillness, everyone gazing at Jess in speechless awe.

Malek grinned. "Jessica Winterslayer. It does have a nice ring to it.

One of the students, wiping what was now cold mud from his trousers, traded wonder for an angry glare. "What exactly did she do, save scare us silly and pull out a helmet of ice that melted?"

Sparrow turned to the boy, his gaze almost pitying. "Do you truly not understand?"

The boy's brows furrowed. "Well, no."

Alex gently patted the student on his shoulder. "Jess was locked in Winter's doom. Dooms cannot be avoided, any more than a stream can be stopped up, without the waters of fate eventually flowing over, causing a greater disaster than one could possibly imagine, had one simply left fate alone."

Jera nodded. "But a stream can be redirected. A raging river can become sedate conduits for irrigation, the water flowing still, but directed. Channeled. Jess channeled Winter's own doom against it. Instead of Jess wielding some mystic sword of winter and freezing everyone solid, Jess claimed the helm itself as her artifact, and the doom of destruction foretold became its own. The melting light not fierce fireballs destroying our school during some awful civil war, but gentle sunlight melting Winter's grip, represented by a simple helm of ice."

Jera smiled. "Do you understand?"

The boy swallowed, stepping back. He looked afraid.

"No. That's impossible. This is the living world, not some Guild induced delusion. Fate is nothing but cause and effect. Action and reaction. It's all maths. That's it. No one can change destiny by redefining terms." He shook his head furiously. "It's just not possible!"

Sparrow shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid you will need to expand your mind a bit, lad. For destiny flows around Delvers like streams around the most massive of boulders. To shape a story, to claim it as her own, is what it means to be a Delver."

Malek grinned, poking Jess's armor. "You mean besides returning with tales of wonder and artifacts worth a king's ransom."

Sparrow laughed. "Besides that, and worth a king's ransom her shiny armor is. Fear not, though, no lord would dare seize an artifact that a Delver has claimed, lest he'd have the Guild entire at his throat."

Jess nodded, mind lost in a fog, suddenly too tired to move.

"Jess?" Malek's concerned voice, soothing words, gently leading her back inside. "I think we need to take you to the healers, sister-in-arms. God knows I'm exhausted as well, and I think you paid a heavy price, doing what you did."

Jess shuddered to feel the sudden clap of her mentor's massive palm upon her shoulder. A grip as powerful as nature itself. "At ease, Malek. Calenbry needs rest, more than anything else. To center herself in this realm once more, after having dared such a potent dream."

Jess blinked, surprised to see Malek's expression of awe. Sensing the fear just beneath the adoration they both felt for the man whose banner they had followed for so very long.

"If it's all the same, Master Eloquin, I would walk by your side."

A soft chuckle. "Fair enough, Hound."

Malek frowned as they made their way back to the keep, the loquacious bards regaling all with their version of the miracle they had just witnessed, several Guild scribes furiously scribbling with their enchanted quills upon rolls of parchment behind them, followed by awed students and professors alike, who hardly said a word.

"Why does everyone keep calling me a hound?" Malek grumbled to no one in particular.

Jess grinned, ignoring her familiar's amused chuckle, giving her closest friend a sleepy hug, suddenly so dizzy she could barely keep one foot in front of another. "Perhaps it is because you are more loyal, steadfast, and true and any mortal soldier could hope to be. Perhaps it is because hounds were once the companions of ancient gods and goddesses, their loyalty the touch of divinity that places them above base man and his all too easily corrupted soul."

Jess winked at her friend's bemused grin. "Or perhaps we just like saying it because it annoys you so wonderfully. Either way, you are the best hound, and friend, any girl could ask for."

Malek chuckled, hugging Jess back, and Jess was only momentarily startled when Malek hoisted her up in his powerful arms like she weighed nothing. "You're about to collapse upon your feet, shieldsister."

Jess frowned. "I do feel a bit tired, but where are we supposed to sleep?"

"In your quarters, of course," Eloquin said.

Bard Sparrow nodded. "Your master is right. Particularly after a young adventurer's first Delve, it is absolutely vital that she sleep in familiar surroundings if at all possible, or at least a Guildhall with friendly company and musicians to gently summon a dreamer's soul back from the land of nod. An adventurer's soul is at risk of wandering right back into the garden of life and rebirth from which we all sprung that first, perilous night after adventuring, all moors grounding it to mundus having been so recently broken."

Malek shivered. "Bloody hells. So not only are we putting ourselves in peril by daring to step into living dream, but the first sleep after adventure is also dangerous? The deck is completely stacked against us!"

Sparrow grinned. "Ah, but young Malek, think of the reward! The chance of supernatural strength, vitality, martial prowess which few mortals could hope to match, and for some lucky few, knacks that transcend all boundaries of magic, tapping into the potency of Dream itself." He winked. "And as you yourself said, tales sure to turn any girl's head, and treasures worth a king's ransom!"

Malek smirked. "Well, there is that, I suppose."

Jess frowned as they entered the keep once more. "Wasn't I expelled?"

"Yes, you were, you pathetic wretch, and if you dare set foot within my school again, your family will be charged with trespass and invasion!"

61

Malek hissed and lurched to a stop, the entranceway blocked by none other than Head Proctor Hatsk and three other assistant proctors. For all that the latter looked grim, it was Hatsk who fumed with outrage, and Jess felt sickened by the malevolent hate she felt radiating off the man, the second she dared meet his gaze.

Her fatigue vanished before the man who had humiliated her, beaten her, and was responsible for Malek's expulsion as well as her own. She trembled not with exhaustion but with fury, on her feet once more.

Hatsk's lips curled into a contemptuous snarl. "I care not what asinine games the Guild plays with its mad bards and drugged wine. But if you dare let this pariah back into my school, Dean Echobart, the Crown will hear about your blatant breach of protocol, your willful disregard for school policy and the safety of my students! You will be making a mockery out of oaths of office you took upon your first days at this college. You serve at the king's sufferance, and best you not forget it!"

"You will move. Now." Eloquin, sounding as hard and chill as Winter himself. The three lesser proctors lurched and stepped back. But Hatsk's lips wormed into a mocking grin.

"Go ahead, general. Show all your students what a butcher you really are. Unable to leave Erovering because you are wanted for the most heinous of war crimes, and how rich a purse any man would get, for turning you in. I hear your head's worth its weight in gold, if any of your sad little pawns have the spine to claim it for themselves. The Velheim embassy has standing orders to pay the bounty, no questions asked. You don't even have to cross the border."

"How dare you!" Echobart roared, shocked at Hatsk's words, a score of students and professors blinking and turning to Eloquin, even as several score Squires glared at Hatsk with icy fury befitting their master.

Jess shook her head. The fool had just signed his death warrant, and didn't even know it.

"How dare I indeed, Echobart. I do naught but keep this school safe. It is you who are failing in your duty! And if you force your way past me with this pariah, I shall see you brought on charges of assault and invasion! See if I don't!"

Eloquin turned to the Squires following behind so faithfully, a hand signal flashed, so much conveyed. Jess swallowed, knowing why they had followed so faithfully, witnessing Jess's final test, confronting Winter itself, and she had no doubt, absolutely no doubt what Eloquin would have commanded them to do, had Jess drawn free not Winter's helm, but a mystic sword of ice, proving Winter's Champion in the end.

Her brothers and sisters in arms would have done everything they could to strike her dead, however fiercely they had loved Jess even days before. Jess smiled back at them even as several swallowed and lowered their heads, realizing that Eloquin's favored tactician of course understood their role. Understood, and approved. If one of her fellows had fallen to darkness, she would have done the same, however bitterly she might regret it later.

And now their purpose had shifted, all of them preparing for what was to come.

Jess turned and caught Eloquin's fierce gaze. "Don't let this fool mar our cause. Don't let him bait you into a trap."

It was then that Alex and Rens stepped forward, Alex clearing his throat. "Perhaps I can be of service."

Hatsk sneered. "You can run off, tail between your legs. I know you are one of her sycophants."

Alex tilted his head, gazing behind the proctor, his three assistants having stepped several paces back under the weight of Eloquin's glare. "Oh, Duggin, there you are. Come to gloat at Jess's humiliation, no doubt. Don't be shy, come forward! I have something for you."

Hatsk glared. "What the hell are you getting at, boy? You had better not be planning mockery, or I will whip your back bloody."

Jess allowed herself a smile as Twilight chuckled. "I'm glad we covered our bases, mistress."

Jess nodded. "I'm glad you were able to help Alex," she whispered, no one else paying her soft words any mind.

Echobart cleared his throat, nodding to Rens. "If your worthy apprentice can help facilitate a smooth resolution, friend Rens, then by all means, let him present his case."

Alex bowed. "Thank you, Dean." He turned to a frowning Duggin, sandy hair blowing in a breeze that smelled of spring with the scents of wildflowers and pine every bit as much as it did the memory of endless ice and snow.

"Your friend assaulted me. No, more than that, she tried to kill me," Duggin sneered. "And none of your magics can change that."

Alex shrugged. "I guess that has yet to be shown one way or another. But I do believe in the value of helping my fellow students out, even if we are at odds. How else, after all, can bridges be mended over rifts of misunderstanding? And so, I thought to myself, how can I most help poor misunderstood Duggin?"

Duggin frowned. "I don't want your help."

Alex chuckled. "Are you sure? I did find a priceless treasure you lost, worth a fair amount of silver, too."

Duggin blinked. "What are you talking about, Alex? No matter what it is, I'm not forgiving that damned bitch after what she did to me."

"Did?" Malek's look was one of outrage. "She did nothing but test your metal, and found you lacking! You're not fit to be a Squire, Duggin, and not just because she beat you so handedly in the sparring rings."

Neal spat. "It's because you are a backstabbing sycophant who wouldn't last a full minute in the crush of battle. You'd turn tail and run, no doubt thinking of whatever tale you could to whisper in your commander's ear, covering your own flaws even as you denigrated the men who risked their lives while you turned coward! That is why we refused to take you, Duggin. And that has nothing to do with losing to Jess!"

"Horse crap!" Duggin shouted, fists clenched and shaking. "You're all a bunch of arrogant elitist monsters! Butchers! Savages! You knew I wasn't black and twisted in my heart like you all are, so of course you dare not let me see how dark and foul your master really is!"

"You'd best run, little boy." Lucas's words. And never had Jess heard her friend sound quite so chill, Duggin blanching at words that promised death. "Run while you can."

Duggin swallowed and stepped back. "Do you see, Proctor Hatsk? Do you see how vile these monsters really are?"

Hatsk nodded, eyes lit with a feverish glee. "I do indeed, boy. So many dark truths to share with the king."

The air grew thick with the weight of impending violence. Jess shook her head as Hatsk and Duggin just stood there, gloating, even as the savvier students and professors glanced at their Squire counterparts, prudently stepping away.

Dean Echobart gazed intently at Alex. "Do what you can, boy. I'd rather not have to mop up my doorstep."

Alex smiled and nodded. "Duggin, do you remember that cinquedea you had lost the other day? Well, fortunately, I was able to find it for you." Without further ado, he whipped out a foot and a half long blade speckled with the faintest traces of rust with one gloved hand, carefully holding it only by the pommel.

Duggin hissed and lurched back. "No. That's impossible." He snuck a glance at Hatsk who blanched and snarled.

"No more of your sorcery tricks, boy! That's a different one."

Jess gasped, even as Twilight pricked her to silence. "Hush, mistress. Eloquin and Echobart both caught the lapse. Best let our prey know nothing, still off guard, sliding ever further into the trap."

Alex chuckled. "Ah, I understand how it can seem so. Now, if you will just let us pass to the dining hall, I will cast a spell that will assure that our missing artifact immediately aligns with its correct owner."

Hatsk looked about to protest.

"Move, fool!" Eloquin roared, stomping forward, Squires behind them, blades drawn, casually at rest upon their shoulders.

All the proctors blanched and lurched back at that.

"It is all right," Dean Echobart assured. "I am temporarily suspending Jessica's dismissal until we have ascertained the solution to this most interesting puzzle."

Hatsk snarled, shaking his head, grabbing Duggin by the shoulder so hard the boy flinched, and even Jess could hear his furious whisper. "Say nothing, fool. It is a bluff!"

Twilight chuckled softly, and within moments it seemed the entire school had gathered around the very dining table Rens and his fellow mages had sat at what seemed either minutes or hours ago, the wooden disc in the center, puzzling at first glance, at last made its purpose known, Alex carefully placing the blade, as much short sword as dagger, upon it.

He held Jess's gaze for endless seconds, before smiling and turning to Duggin.

Jess swallowed, thinking she understood, hoping she didn't make a mess of things. This was perhaps her only chance to ever be welcome at her school once more.

"So you see, Duggin, I have been working on a spell that is finally able to link the principles of similarity and contagion so as to be compatible with elementalist magics, at least to the degree that when someone loses an object of metal, I can find it for them."

Duggin, Jess couldn't help noting, was trembling, for all that he did his best to hide it, Hatsk squeezing his shoulder so hard the boy winced.

"Impossible," Hatsk snarled. "Elementalist magics don't work like that."

"Ah, so you are a scholar as well as a proctor. How blessed we are to have you!" Alex deadpanned, Hatsk glaring at the titters of laughter to be heard in the crowd gathering behind him. "Fortunately, however, we are at a school that does attempt to push the boundaries of magic with our studies. And it appears we have made a few interesting breakthroughs, not the least of which is the spell I am going to utter now."

With that Alex bowed his head, as if entering a deep trance, fingers flowing through the air with a magician's odd grace, and Jess smiled to see the flickers of light crackling from his fingertips, streaming through the air, even as the sword itself began to rattle.

"What are you doing?" Hatsk demanded.

Alex took a deep breath, the sound and color fading as abruptly as it had come, the blade looking no different than before. "No worries, the spell is complete." He chuckled softly. "Of course, there are a few side effects, but what magic is without risk?"

Duggin swallowed. "What risk?"

Alex shrugged. "Oh, the spell is not entirely stable, I'm afraid. It can point to its owner, but, well, the spell is somewhat... messy. I had to rely on some Velheim arts we barely understand. As long as you just carried the cinquedea about your person and never swung it in anger, it will do naught more than hum at your touch. But if you ever swung it in anger, or worse, attempted to kill with it, well, the side effects are a bit more severe."

Duggin stepped back. "What side effects are these?"

Alex smiled. "Well, once it tastes your flesh it will plunge forward, attempting to pierce your heart, to join with the source of all your passions, all your hate. But no worries there, right? You never swung your fighting dagger in hot anger, did you?"

Duggin froze, speechless.

"He's bluffing!" Hatsk hissed, shaking the boy's shoulders. "It is all a bluff."

Alex smiled. "Archoidoitis!" He shouted, gazing at Jess.

And the cinquedea began to move, the circular pedestal smoothly turning as the point slowly moved like the hand of a priceless clock, everyone gazing at the blade in awe and stepping away as it continued its rotation, before stopping dead, point tip aimed directly for Duggin who yelped and lurched back.

Alex bowed. "As I said, Duggin, I think I found your blade."

"Impossible!" Hatsk roared. "You are bluffing! I know Duggin never touched that blade."

Alex raised a curious eyebrow. Short and slender as he was, he possessed a certain presence and potency, as did most scholars of the arcane, Jess thought. "And how would you know that? Did you not even want to ask where I found it?"

Hatsk paled. "This is a trick. There is no way you could know!"

Duggin's gaze turned desperate.

Echobart smiled and stepped forward. "You will find, lad, that I am the forgiving sort. I do not wish to end promising careers for a single tragic mistake, and I am far more inclined to show leniency for a lad led astray than I am for the puppet master so willing to use such a boy, only to later throw him away."

Duggin swallowed, breaths now short and rapid.

"Hold yourself together, fool," Hatsk hissed, squeezing his shoulder so hard the boy whimpered. "It is all a bluff. Do not let these jesters play you for an imbecile!"

Alex shook his head. "Are you sure you don't want to ask where I found it, Hatsk? You are the head proctor. Surely you are interested in the truth?"

"I will have no more of your lip, boy!" Hatsk roared.

Alex smiled, turning to Duggin, even as the boy trembled and slowly slid to the side, the dagger point following him unerringly. The murmurs of the crowd grew, Duggin looking more and more like a trapped animal, and for the first time in ages, Jess actually found herself feeling pity for the boy.

"All you have to do is touch it. But, if you did use it in anger... it's best if you put on a chain-mail shirt. It will protect your heart. Should protect your heart. You might still break a few ribs." Alex turned to the assembled Squires. "Does anyone have a mail hauberk our friend Duggin can borrow? A couple links might be broken when he hands it back or we pull it off his corpse, just like it would if a charger's lance pierced you. But I'm sure the blacksmith can rivet in a few fresh ones, no problem."

Duggin whimpered.

Alex smiled. "Duggin? Do you want me to tell you where I found the cinquedea?"

Eyes clenched tight, he swallowed and nodded.

"It was some distance away, actually. You know the lake south of us some two miles? Someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to toss it in the deepest part of the lake."

Alex turned to a furious looking Hatsk. "The strange thing is, the culprit deliberately wrapped it in your clothes, Duggin, with strands of your hair tied to it. It's almost like they wanted you to get caught."

Duggin gasped, glaring at Hatsk. "We're you going to stab me in the back, when you needed a scapegoat?"

Hatsk lurched and stepped back. "I did no such thing. there was no trace of you left on that blade. It was tied in burlap, he's lying!"

The room was deathly still.

A speechless Hatsk, eyes glittering with fury, only realizing what he had said when it was too late. His mouth opened, no words came. He snarled, hand on his baton.

"That is correct," Alex said into the silence. "And a test. It was indeed tied up in burlap. A fact only the culprit would know. I kept it, in case anyone wants proof." He turned to Duggin. "I can tell the tale, Duggin, but I think it would be better if you did, don't you?" He gave Dean Echobart a meaningful glance.

Dean Echobart nodded. "A boy looking for redemption is one I deem worth saving. Honesty and candor are your watchwords, boy. You have two hundred witnesses. If you want to be remembered as a man who had the courage to face his own humiliation and redeem himself, that starts now." He gave a sad shake of his head. "Or you can deny it, and if proven guilty, walk out that door, forever scorned by the school you had struggled so dearly to enter, so long ago."

"Sir?" Duggin trembled, gazing at the dagger, the point still unerringly following his every move.

"Yes, lad?"

"I made a terrible mistake. I... I would like to make a confession."

"By all means, lad."

"You will do no such thing!" Hatsk roared, eyes glittering with madness. "You will not accept this trickery! All of this, blatant entrapment, a score of wizards using vile magics to confuse and beguile us. You and I will leave at once, straight of the capital, and we will report this madness, and see justice done!"

Eloquin's smile was bleak as death. "You're not going anywhere, worm."

"How dare you talk to me that way!" Hatsk hissed, lurching back as Squires closed, blades sheathed, Jess was relieved to see, with hundreds of innocents crowding in on them.

Hatsk lurched back, hissing with surprise as two of his own under-proctors grabbed his arms. "What are you fools doing? Release me at once!"

"Head Proctor Hatsk? I am officially relieving you of all duty," declared the larger man holding him tight. "Tack, grab his baton and the damned whip he's always carrying."

"At once," nodded the other, a howling Hatsk quickly led away, to the laughter and jeers of what seemed the school entire.

Malek grinned. "It looks like those proctors didn't want to be associated with that bastard, after all."

Neal nodded. "The former head proctor who everyone got along with died under mysterious circumstances, and the man who replaces him is a sadistic, treacherous worm who is all too eager to whip students under any pretext, might be responsible for missing servants, and we now see clear as day was involved in a conspiracy that could only have resulted in Jess's expulsion or death. He's slime, and I wouldn't bat an eye if he accidentally fell down the cellar stairs, repeatedly, 'til his neck broke."

Jacob sighed, giving his friend a sympathetic clap on the back. "They're proctors, Neal, not Squires. I have no doubt he'll find himself locked up tight, with no more than a kidney punch or two for making fools of them. My question is what do you think is going to happen to Duggin?"

Jess turned to see a shaking Duggin approaching her, tears in his eyes. He seemed almost to lean into the dean's gentle hand upon his shoulder, turning to face the crowd as the roaring Hatsk was led off.

"It's all true," he said, bowing his head. "The knife... is mine. Jess is innocent." Jess's eyes widened to see how badly he was trembling. Jess could only imagine what it was like, to confess even that much, in front of two hundred fellows who would forever remember the shame of his folly. Duggin would always see in their gazes his own abject failure, and would forever have to face the bitter monster he had become.

But to have the courage to face one's own failure, being willing to endure that pain, not to hide in one's own delusion of self-righteousness... that took courage. And humility. As awful as Duggin might feel, cringing at his own folly in the months to come, with that one step he began his journey upon a path of redemption. Bitter as the bile in his throat, as all such beginnings were. Yet he had begun a journey of worth.

Jess saw him then being gently led off by Dean Echobart, his gaze that of a stern father disappointed in a promising lad, but willing to let amends be made, Rens and several other professors following behind.

"I think Echobart will be kind enough to let him make his confession in relative privacy," Malek said. "It will vindicate you, and most importantly as far as the dean is concerned, condemn that bastard of a proctor."

Jess, however, had already darted ahead, almost as surprised as Echobart was, to see her hand on Duggin's shoulder.

The boy turned and flinched, his gaze one of terror. "Jess..."

"Thank you," Jess said, loud enough for all assembled to hear. "That took courage. I just wanted to say, thank you for saying it aloud, so no one would later doubt. And if you do end up wearing the penitent's white..." Duggin trembled, his worst fear realized. "I will not mock you. I know what it means to make a mistake, and to make amends. Because we are better than our mistakes. As you have proven just now. So again, Duggin, thank you."

Jess bowed her head and walked away, the hushed murmur of scores of voices following in her wake.

"What an interesting tale this is turning out to be," said Sparrow, favoring Jess with a nod and a wink, as if she were a favorite character in a play.

"Indeed," commended the other bard. "Lady Calenbry, Slayer of Winter, it has been both a pleasure and an honor, and you may rest assured that we will transcribe your story in full to the Guild, where it will be recorded and stand proudly beside all the true tales told by Delvers and dutifully recorded by the Guild, so that their adventures shall never be forgotten."

Sparrow then presented to Jess a copy of her transcript upon a plate lined with gold, and where he had hidden such a precious impractical thing upon his person Jess had no idea, before handing her a fine quill pen radiating all sorts of interesting magical energies with a flourish. "And if you would be so gracious as to sign your account? We would be doubly honored."

Jess solemnly nodded, carefully reading her account aloud, smiling at a couple of embellished entries, carefully crossing and correcting them before the bards' bemused gaze, only then signing the document. "It sounds correct to me."

Sparrow raised his eyebrows. "Sounds, my lady?"

Jess nodded. "Letters are tricky beasts. They tend to twist around and not make much sense, unless you sound them out. That's why I like to read in private. It's more fun to read aloud than whisper, and no one frowns and stares at me in my quarters."

He nodded solemnly. "I see. If it's any consolation, one of our most stalwart members reads in a similar style. Alacabar is his name, and as fierce and proud an adventurer as you ever did see, so powerfully built he is, and larger than life in everything but height, such that you'd think him a character straight from your favorite tales." He grinned. "And unlike the romantic adventures penned by the more literary nobles for their friends, our tales are true, and made available to all, at a very reasonable price."

Malek frowned, giving Jess a comradely hug. "Most freemen read aloud. 'Tis only after years of practice or a noble's upbringing that reading silently becomes the norm, and it's just not a knack everyone has."

Sparrow nodded. "And unlikely to handicap one at all, so long as one doesn't seek the life of a bookkeeper or wizard, though a merchant will need a trusted partner to maintain his records, unless his business is so small or the profits so large that he can balance the most important bits in his head."

"Oh, arcane tomes are fine," Jess said. "At least, magical glyphs. I can taste the magic, so the symbols don't squiggle out of place." She grinned. "I guess you could say the magic pins them down."

Sparrow blinked. "Ah yes, I did note the sigils covering young Josie. An amazing feat of inspiration, was that."

Jess shrugged. "It made sense at the time, and she made it out of dream, so that's all that matters, I guess."

The bard politely nodded. “Indeed. And never have I seen a suit of mail sparkle and shine so brightly as the hauberk you wear. May I touch it, Lady Jess?”

Jess gave a bemused nod, and the bard whistled at its feel. “Steel doesn’t nick it. I tried.” Jess said, raising her own dagger to demonstrate. “But if anyone thinks to steal it from me, well, let’s just say they may get more than they bargained for.” Her grin was brilliant and fierce. Enough to give even the bard pause.

“Right. I have no doubt, my lady. I would fear not, however. For few would be so foolish as to attempt to steal from a Delver. The poor fool would have the whole Guild after his throat. To say nothing of your noble status.”

Jess nodded happily, so relieved to be vindicated at last that she couldn't help but close her eyes, imagining herself floating away on clouds of peace.

"Jess!" Malek. Sounding strangely worried, for all that she could sense his exhaustion as well.

"We are done here." Eloquin's words, curt and cold.

"Of course," Sparrow said. "They have Delved deep and hard, an expedition few Spring Delvers would dare. I will leave them in your care."

And before she knew it, Jess felt herself all but floating down the hallways, Malek and Jacob by her side, Eloquin as well, and then she was before the door to her quarters, the fine hardwood opening to her touch.

"And you have no idea how hard that bastard tried to break in, even before we left." Malek smirked, no doubt speaking of Hatsk.

Jess felt like she would fall asleep on her feet, but she had to know. She raised her eyes to meet Eloquin's icy blue gaze.

"Is it true?"

Eloquin's features gave away nothing. She blinked to feel a sword hilt pressed into her hand. "Get some sleep, Calenbry. Your rest is well earned." Other things were said, but her focus was locked upon the blade Eloquin had handed her, a masterwork longsword from his personal armory. She swallowed and looked up, but Eloquin had already left.

She turned to Malek, himself blushing at whatever Jacob had whispered in his ears. There was so much Jess wanted to say, but exhaustion had claimed her, and she was at an utter loss for words.

Malek laughed, turning to Jacob. "I will see you soon. Let me see Jess to bed first."

Jacob frowned for a moment before wryly shaking his head. "You always did come first, Jess." He flashed a teasing smile. "Still, you two did fight back to back, and I suppose the whole school does owe you both. Sleep well, Jess." And with a parting wave, he too was gone.

"Come on, Jess, let's get you to bed," Malek said, Jess still too dazed to say a word. "Nice shiny mail on your chair, boots and bronze breastplate off, and there we are. Here's a mead flask if you wake up thirsty as the dickens, and I will see you on the other side."

Jess frowned, fingers gently tracing her friend's handsome features, delighting in his smile. Playfully, he kissed her palm, tucking her in with a wink. "Get some sleep, shieldsister. I wouldn't be surprised if we both found ourselves back under Eloquin's tutelage with first light, him gazing at us like idiots if we dare say a word in confusion or protest.

And with that delightful thought, Jess found herself sinking into the soft embrace of her downy bedding, her mind spinning with all the wonders and horrors she had experienced since daring to explore the lands of living dream.

62

What an adventure we’ve had, haven't we, Twilight?” Jess said the moment Malek left with a final farewell wave.

Twilight nodded his head in warmest approval. “You’ve done moderately well, this time around. But come. A good night’s rest is what you need to be refreshed and ready for whatever adventures lay just beyond the horizon.”

Jess smiled. "Thanks, Twilight. I'm... it sounds strange, but I feel more exhausted than I ever have before, even after Eloquin's most grueling missions. I feel so dizzy and drained, I'm almost afraid to fall asleep!"

"Not strange at all," Twilight said. "Your soul has so recently tasted the darkest seas of nightmare, and as potent as you have become in ways you have yet to fathom, the need to sleep long and hard after any sort of Delve is one universal not even you can change, my queen. And fear not, your soul is too strong and stubborn to lose its way back home, no matter how wild your dreams. Now close your eyes, Jess, and put all cares away."

Jess yawned her agreement, drifting off to sleep filled with a profound sense of relief to have overcome such obstacles and find vindication at the end, dreaming sweet dreams alive with magic and wonder, imagining the thrills of endless adventure in the months and years to come.

Sweet dreams of childhood once more, laughing so brightly, playing in a vast garden filled with trees and flowers and a host of friends she had known and loved forever. Not a dream at all. She was awake at last, after a lifetime of dreaming. A lifetime of dreams. Each dream yet another adventure to add to the sagas they told each other in laughter and play, as they danced and sung beneath the trees. As close to Heaven as they would ever come.

Her sanctuary in the midst of endless horrors, the one place she could always find peace.

Jess smiled through her tears, closing her eyes, breathing deep of that miracle of forest and flower.

Eyes snapped open. Gentle light warming fair skin, gone.

Gentle songs and laughter abruptly stilled. A desperate whimper echoing in the cold night air.

A skittering claw raking across her grave.

The sweet smell of rose and jasmine replaced by the stench of rot and decay.

Jess shivered and forced herself to look up. A hideous darkness blotted out the gentle light of the moon above.

Her precious friends' faces were now filled with pleading terror, shrieking their despair.

Jess was shaken off her feet, ears drowning in a sea of noise, gazing up to see a massive wave of oblivion arching high above, strangling all light before smashing down upon her precious forest, her sacred garden, washing her sanctuary away.

Her precious souls lost, screaming and drowning in the endless seas of Hell.

Her screams, the most piercing of all.

Only one boy still remained, hovering above the stormy seas of oblivion. Gently he gazed down upon her. Eyes the color of peace, his smile held all the love and laughter that had ever graced her heart.

Wings of brilliant virtue blinded her. The young boy's hand reached out to clasp her own.

“It is time, Jezabelle.”

And then she knew no more.

When Jess awoke, it was abruptly to the sounds of panicked banging upon her door. Malek's distressed voice was barely audible, and she immediately knew something was wrong.

“Jess! Let me in!”

She shivered as Twilight seemed to step out of shadows unseen, leaping to her bed. His all too knowing sapphire gaze spoke of horrors that instantly set her heart racing, the weight of his presence sending ripples of anxious dread pulsing through her soul.

Jess shivered. “Oh gods, Twilight.”

Her familiar did not break his intent gaze, even as her heart started to race. “Twilight, tell me what’s wrong. Please!”

Yet much to her dismay, Twilight would only shake his head. “If there is to be any chance of salvation, any chance at all, you must be the one to understand, my Jess. You must feel with your heart what terrible discord has rocked through this realm you call home.”

Jess grimaced, suddenly panicked, but the weight of her beloved cat's stare refused to abate. She had to face this. Face the sense of dread trembling through her, the sliver of terror that left her breathless and sick. And in that awful moment, she knew.

She felt as if she was somehow slipping into some strange realm of madness. Malek’s hammering upon her door became even more frantic. “Jess! We’re under attack!”

But there was more. Jess’s eyes widened in sudden horror. “Louise!”

Twilight nodded solemnly. “Our enemies have once again risen up to do battle. You must prepare yourself, my queen.” Jess felt a sickening lurch, captivated by her familiar’s gaze. “For we slide from dream to nightmare once more, and whether we wake or not is in your hands. And yours alone.”

Thank You

Thank you very much for reading Squire of War. I hope you enjoyed the story!

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Jess and Twilight have many more adventures to share. The first three titles in The Risen Queen series are all available right now.

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