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  Then he heard Thuna scream. Sael turned to find the old woman looking at him with pleading eyes already growing dim, a sword jutting out of her midsection. She slid forward off the sword and collapsed to her knees. One of their own guards stood behind her, holding onto the weapon. And the bastard was grinning!

  To his horror, Sael realized that these weren’t bandits attacking. The party had been led into an ambush. One of the guards sent by Sael’s brother had been allied to the emperor. Behind the traitor, Sael could see the body of another of their guardsmen, slaughtered.

  It was the look of smugness on the man’s face that enraged Sael the most. He charged forward, stabbing for the heart, and a look of panic swept the man’s smug expression aside. He raised his sword in time to deflect Sael’s blow, but Sael was furious and not to be stopped. He hacked viciously at the traitor until there was a tremendous crack and the guard’s blade snapped near the hilt, careening off into the darkness. For just a moment, there was terror in the guard’s eyes. Then Sael brought his sword down hard, and the man crumpled to the ground.

  Sael turned to see one of the attackers charging full speed at Geilin. The wizard raised his staff, half to attack and half in defense, as the man leapt through the air. The attacker burst into flame midleap, but the momentum of the jump caused him to crash into the old man. Geilin went down under the impact, and suddenly both men were on fire.

  Sael rushed toward his master. But a man in black leapt over the flames, heading straight for him, quickly followed by another. At the same moment, a sword point whistled through the air to Sael’s left, narrowly missing his temple. He turned and began to run, knowing he’d never be able to fend off three at once. Perhaps if he could outdistance them, he might be able to loop back in time to help Geilin.

  Ahead, barely visible in the darkness, loomed some of the ancient standing stones. He’d been told since he was a young child to avoid these places, but he was too panicked to think clearly. They were the nearest thing to cover he could see.

  Another shadowy figure appeared out of the darkness, running toward him from the direction of the stones, and Sael swerved to evade him. But it was too late. The man caught him around the middle, knocking him over backward. Sael’s sword flew out of his hand.

  But Sael didn’t hit the ground. It was as if he had fallen backward into a pool of molasses. He sank beneath it and it closed over him, dark and suffocating. And silent. He couldn’t breathe as he struggled against the weight holding him down, but his arms moved slowly as if he were swimming in heavy mud.

  How long he remained trapped, he didn’t know. But it seemed much longer than he could normally hold his breath. He kept expecting to black out from the suffocation, but he didn’t.

  At last, like a cork released at the bottom of a pool of water, he bobbed to the surface and gasped. There was still a weight on top of his body—the man who’d pushed him down. But when he looked up into the face above him, he realized the man was very young. He looked to be about Sael’s age and size, but with jet-black hair. His face wasn’t painted like the others, although it was too dark to see him clearly. The young man was panting as if he’d been suffocating too.

  “I think they’re gone,” he said.

  He rolled off to one side, and Sael was able to scramble to his knees. He looked around frantically, but the night was still.

  “They must have thought you ran into the forest on the other side of the stones,” the stranger added.

  Near the road lay the motionless forms of those who had died in the fight, but only a few. The attackers had carried off their own dead.

  “Master Geilin!”

  “Hush!” the stranger said under his breath. “Do you want them to come back, you idiot?”

  Sael ignored him, rushing toward a dark form he now recognized as his fallen mentor. “Master Geilin! Can you hear me?”

  Geilin appeared to be dead. But the stranger came up behind Sael and bent close to the old man’s face to examine it. “He’s still breathing. Barely.”

  It was difficult to determine the extent of Geilin’s injuries in the darkness, but it was clear he was badly burned on his face and hands.

  Sael searched for Thuna as well, though he knew it would be too late. When he found her, the ömem was dead.

  “We should move to the ruins,” the stranger said, looking around warily.

  Now that he appeared to be out of danger—assuming his rescuer didn’t plan on killing him—all the warnings Sael had heard about the ancient standing stones came back to him. People said strange things happened near them. And men who slept in their shelter sometimes disappeared or went insane. The peasants left bread or porridge near the stones to appease the dark spirits they believed dwelled in them. But nobody went near them, otherwise.

  Most of that was probably superstition, of course. Sael had read about the Towe, the ancient, malignant race that had built the stone structures, in the palace libraries. Not much was known about them. The name meant “little ones,” so presumably they were smaller than men. And they had been destroyed in the Great War a thousand years ago. No doubt the folk legends were bastardizations of half-forgotten truths—ancient memories of encounters with the creatures in ancient days, distorted over the centuries. But it mattered little, for the Towe were long dead.

  Still, in the darkness, far from the city, with the stench of burning flesh heavy in the night air, the stones looked sinister and forbidding.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “I have a camp there,” the stranger replied.

  That was hardly reassuring, as the young man himself made Sael nervous. What strange kind of spell had he cast when he saved Sael? None taught at the academy, Sael was certain.

  “We’ll be all right,” the stranger insisted, growing impatient. “It’s safer than out here on the road, if those men come back.”

  Sael was used to being deferred to and he bristled at the young man’s tone, but he couldn’t deny the road was a dangerous place. The stones might be dangerous as well, but at the moment they seemed a better choice. The only other alternative was the forest, and Sael knew he’d never survive alone against the wolves and wild boars that prowled there. Certain his master would dismiss his fears as superstitious nonsense, Sael said curtly, “Fine.”

  Before attempting to move Geilin, he looked around for his pack. It lay on the ground not far away. The attackers had either missed it or had not considered it worth taking. Much of the bread and food he’d packed had fallen out and lay trampled in the dirt. But fortunately the tiny phials of healing formula he’d tucked in the bottom, wrapped in a cloth, were unbroken.

  The stranger was waiting impatiently when Sael brought the pack over to where Geilin lay.

  “We don’t have time to collect everything. It can wait ’til morning.”

  “Not this,” Sael replied. He drew one of the phials out of the torn pack and uncorked it. Then he lifted Geilin’s head slightly and poured the contents of the bottle into the old man’s mouth.

  “Will that heal him?” the stranger asked.

  “A bit. But it’s a mild draught. Only good for slight wounds.”

  “Why don’t you give him two or three, then?”

  Sael glared at him. From the rough accent, he guessed the young man was a peasant. One couldn’t expect him to be very well educated, but that was all the more reason for him to leave magical matters to those who understood them. Sael replied, with exaggerated patience, “It’s not the amount. There’s a spell bound to the liquid. Drinking two doesn’t increase the strength of the spell. It simply wastes the second bottle. You would have to have a draught made with a more powerful spell. In a few hours, I can give him a second dose.”

  The stranger seemed irritated by his explanation. “Why didn’t you bring stronger drinks?”

  “This is what we could gather on short notice.”

  “Fine. Is he safe to move now?”

  Sael shrugged and looked worriedly at the old man.
“I hope so.”

  “Then come on.”

  Chapter 2

  KOREH’S camp was simple—just some blankets for bedding, a small pack, and a fire pit. He moved frequently, so he carried little with him. The campfire was currently out, since he’d been asleep before all this and it was a fairly warm night.

  He helped the young nobleman carry the wizard the short distance there and, with only a small amount of reluctance, gave up his blankets for the old man’s comfort.

  He considered lighting a fire, but that might alert anyone still searching for the nobleman. If the emperor wanted him and his “master” dead, then Koreh had no doubt he would be killed for helping them. The old man should be warm enough with the blanket wrapped around him.

  “I’m Koreh,” he said after an awkward silence. “What are you called?”

  The nobleman hesitated just a fraction of a second before replying, “Sael.”

  “And the old man?”

  “He is my master. Vönan Geilin.” The vönan were the fire mages of the noble houses.

  “You’re his apprentice?”

  Sael nodded.

  “If you’re apprenticed to a mage, then why do you fight with a sword?”

  Sael looked wounded. “I’ve never tried to cast spells while I’m under attack.”

  In the darkness, his features were unclear, but it seemed to Koreh he was surprisingly beautiful. Long-lashed green eyes and a full mouth set in a delicate face framed by soft, pale curls. It was the first time Koreh had ever been conscious of finding another male attractive, and he was a bit unsettled by it. But it wasn’t really important. If the old man survived the night, Koreh would send them both on their way come morning.

  “Why were you traveling this far from the city at night?” he asked, gruffly.

  Sael’s face grew closed, and it was obvious he was hiding something. “We have to travel to the East Kingdom, on urgent business.”

  “What business?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Koreh shrugged. Fine. “I guess not. But you’re still a day’s travel from Denök, if that’s where you’re going.”

  Sael looked grim. “We’d hoped to make it there before daybreak and pick up some horses.”

  “I was wondering about that,” Koreh replied. “The old woman didn’t look up to a long journey on foot.”

  He noticed something dark in Sael’s expression and quickly added, “The Face of Neesha be kind.”

  But this only served to irritate the young man. “Why do you say that?”

  “What do you mean? That’s what you say.”

  “It’s not what I say,” Sael retorted. “Or anyone in the royal court.”

  “I’m not in the royal court.”

  “The correct thing to say—the respectful thing to say—is ‘May she be honored in the Great Hall.’ Haven’t you been taught any proper etiquette at all?”

  What an ass.

  “I’ve heard that,” Koreh explained slowly, as though to a small child. “But that’s not what we say.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. My family. People I grew up with.” He didn’t add that, for the peasants around gü-Khemed, the thought of spending the afterlife in the Great Hall wasn’t very appealing. Most likely they would end up as servants to the nobles there.

  Sael grunted, as if that was far from a satisfactory answer. “I’ve never heard of the ‘Face of Neesha’.”

  “So what? You say what you want and I’ll say what I want. I don’t give a damn about your Great Hall.”

  “It’s not my Great Hall. It’s the Great Hall—the Great Hall of the gods. Who is this Neesha?”

  Truthfully, Koreh didn’t know. It was just what one said, when speaking of the dead. Sometimes he heard it said that someone who died a particularly unpleasant death had seen “the dark Face of Neesha.” He’d asked his mother who Neesha was, when he was a child, but she simply laughed and dismissed the question. I don’t know, little pup. It’s just what people say.

  “With all your guards dead,” he said, changing the subject, “you might want to think about going back to the city.”

  THIS, Sael knew, was impossible. The attackers had been armed with weapons generally used by the royal guard. He had no doubt they’d been sent by the emperor to assassinate him and Geilin. Poor Thuna too, perhaps, though she may have simply been caught in the crossfire. He glanced over at the still form of his master. “We can’t go back.”

  “You won’t find a healer in Denök,” Koreh pointed out. “Not much else there either.”

  “I said we can’t go back,” Sael snapped. “It doesn’t matter what lies ahead.”

  “Well,” Koreh replied, ignoring Sael’s harsh tone as he stretched his lanky legs out on the grass, “you can’t leave the old man here.”

  Sael was beginning to find this young man infuriating. Did he think Sael would abandon his master to the care of a strange peasant? “Don’t worry about it,” he said curtly. “I’m not going to leave him.”

  What he was going to do, he didn’t know. He moved to fuss over Geilin, turning his back on Koreh. The young man unnerved him, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. “Look, I know it’s dangerous. But those men who attacked us… they were from the city.”

  “Royal guard,” Koreh agreed. “What did you do to get them mad at you?”

  It wasn’t lost on Sael that if Koreh had known all along their attackers were royal guard, he must also have known they could never return to the city. “Nothing.”

  “It had to be something.”

  “What I mean,” he said slowly, “is that it’s not your concern.”

  Koreh snorted. “I did save your life.”

  Sael had rarely been confronted with such insolence. Even in the city, most students at the academy deferred to him as the son of the vek. Sael turned back to face Koreh, annoyed once again that he couldn’t see his face clearly. “And I’m grateful for that. Perhaps a suitable reward can be arranged, once we’re at our destination. But I’m still trying to figure out how you saved me.”

  Koreh shrugged. “If you don’t have to tell me everything, I don’t have to tell you everything.”

  “I know it was a spell,” Sael continued, as if Koreh hadn’t even spoken. “But it wasn’t like any spell I’ve ever seen or heard of.”

  “Maybe you don’t know everything.”

  But Sael wouldn’t be put off that easily. “I’ve heard of spells like that,” he continued, “but only in folk tales. Stories about the Towe—mysterious creatures who live in shadows, who can disappear into the earth, turn invisible… talk to the dead. Who don’t seem quite real, when you look at them….”

  Koreh slid forward onto his hands and knees until his face was so close to Sael’s that his breath brushed Sael’s lips. Sael wanted to move away, but Geilin was lying too close behind him.

  “You don’t think I’m real?” Koreh asked. “Touch me, then.”

  Too late, Sael realized his breath had grown ragged, betraying his discomfort. “I don’t… I didn’t mean that. I know you’re real. But that spell… no vönan could have taught you how to sink into the earth.”

  “No vönan did,” Koreh responded, leaning in so close that Sael feared the young man might kiss him. Though why that idea popped into his head, he couldn’t say. “When I lived in the city, I was lucky to avoid being spit on by the likes of you.”

  Sael felt a slight chill at the words, and he began to wonder if he was really safe with this stranger after all.

  “I’m sorry if you’ve been treated badly—”

  “That spell saved your life, little lord,” Koreh said, mocking him. “That’s all you need to know.”

  “Our magic and our protection—it comes from the gods. I don’t know where you learned a spell like that, but it isn’t one of the spells granted us by the Stronni.”

  “You know all of them?”

  “No, of course not,” Sael replied, bothered that his voic
e was shaking. “But I know the general categories of spells. Not even the ömem have spells that can make them disappear into the ground like that. And if it didn’t come from the gods… you shouldn’t use it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it might offend the gods.”

  Koreh suddenly barked out a laugh and pulled away. “So that’s it! You’re afraid.”

  “No—”

  “You’re frightened that your gods will be angry that you were saved by something that might be ‘forbidden’ and you’ll be punished for it.” Koreh’s voice was dripping with contempt. “You’re a coward.”

  “I’m not a coward,” Sael protested, “But the gods protect us—”

  Koreh’s sudden anger startled him. “My entire family rotted to death during the plague, while the emperor’s priests and ömem kept him and his nobles—maybe even you and your precious ‘master’—safe. Your gods protect noblemen and wizards. Not people like me.”

  Sael was stunned. He had never heard anyone speak of the gods so vehemently—not ever. It was inconceivable. Or it had been, until now.

  He looked away, embarrassed for the first time in his life that he was highborn. He and Geilin had not been living in gü-Khemed during the plague, but there seemed little value in pointing that out. “I’m sorry about your family, Koreh. We can’t always understand—”

  But he realized he was talking to himself.

  Koreh had disappeared.

  Chapter 3

  KOREH used the same spell he’d used earlier to save Sael, dropping out of sight into the earth. He’d learned the spell over a year ago in one of his dreams, and was fairly good at it now. It was impossible, as far as he knew, to move from the spot he dropped into, but he could remain hidden for hours if he chose. The feeling of suffocation was disconcerting but not real. After the first few times, he’d learned there was no need to breathe when he was part of the earth.