A shiver runs down my spine, spurring me to action.

  Now is not the time to dally, so I set off, the weight of responsibility a heavy mantle that seems mine alone to bear.

  ***

  The horizon to the east is glowing, and the clouds spreading across the sky like an ocean’s waves are a thousand shades of red. It’s the type of sunrise that usually fills me with tranquillity, but not this morning. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to lie back and enjoy the passage of time again.

  The sound of wooden bolts and latches being undone has me peer over the side of the low roof I’ve been resting on, and below me, the doors to the stable slowly creak open.

  I wait for the stablemaster to turn back into the hay-scattered interior, then after a quick look around, vault off the roof and expend a little magic to soften my landing, and follow the man into the gloom.

  The horses snicker as I pass their stalls, and ahead the stablemaster grabs a pitchfork and spins toward me, the wickedly sharp points raised.

  ‘Creeping up on a man in such a fashion likely means yer up to no good,’ he growls. ‘Best ye go!’

  I hadn’t meant to creep up on him, but after years of training, my every step is unconsciously light and silently placed. Also, with my hood up and face in shadow, I probably look exactly like the assassin I’ve trained to be.

  ‘My apologies, good stablemaster. I mean you no harm.’

  I start in High Delnorian, putting him at ease with the musical tongue. He likely doesn’t understand a word, but no mere cutthroat could speak even a few words so flawlessly.

  ‘My apologies,’ I say again in the common tongue. ‘If my approach was silent, it was only so as not to disturb the animals, not for ill intent.’

  The pitchfork is lowered, and the man scratches his head looking somewhat horrified at having threatened a noble. It’s well within a noble’s rights to take this further if I were who I pretended to be.

  ‘Let me put you at your ease further. I require a fully equipped mount of good stamina for maybe two days.’

  The stablemaster steps closer, trying to see my face, so I dip my head imperceptibly, ensuring it remains little more than a shadow.

  ‘I’m sorry, M’lady. I sold my last available mounts yesterday, and those you see here were all bought at auction the day before that. I won’t get any fresh mounts until the day after the morrow.’

  The man shrugs apologetically, and from the look on his face, he is genuinely sorry. I sigh. Why can’t things just go smoothly? It would be so easy to render him unconscious, steal a mount, and be on my way, but I’ve determined to be a better version of my former self.

  I walk up and down the stalls under the watchful eye of the stablemaster, pondering what to do. Maybe there’s another stable nearby, and he can tell me the way.

  ‘How much did you sell that one for?’ I point to a black gelding who snorts as I look at him.

  ‘That’s a fine beast, eh. You know your horses. That’s the best one here, and already fully trained. He cost a full three gold pieces, would you believe. Between you and I, he’s only worth two, but the lady who bought him seemed quite taken with his look. She’s picking him up next week as a gift for her son.’

  Pulling out Darul’s pouch, I look inside and am pleased to find it is swollen with predominantly gold coins.

  ‘I’ll give you five gold coins just to hire him for just two days, maybe three,’ I say, opening my gloved palm to show the thick pieces to the stablemaster.’

  The man gulps, and I can sense his dilemma as he wrings his hands. I can’t afford him to choose the wrong way, and it's not as though I’ll have much use for the money I’m carrying anyway.

  ‘Oh, and I’ll make it six if you have him ready and provisioned to go in the next twenty minutes,’ I add.

  It’s an extravagant offer, and the stablemaster moves like his life depends on it. I place the stack of coins on a small wooden stool and stand back, watching in admiration as the horse is brought to readiness. He finishes by hanging saddlebags, some grain pouches and water skins from the saddle.

  ‘Add a few horse blankets if you wouldn’t mind,’ I ask as I step forward, putting the food satchel inside a saddlebag. I doubt he’ll refuse, given the small fortune he’s receiving.

  With a nod, he opens a cupboard, pulls out three, and then ties them into a neat roll which he attaches to the back of the saddle.

  ‘If you don’t return him, I can live with that.’

  The man’s smile is bright against his bearded face as he pockets the gold. He could reimburse the buyer pretending the horse died, give her an extra gold piece as recompense keeping his reputation intact, and still be two gold richer.

  ‘As a matter of interest, who bought your last horses?’ I ask conversationally. ‘Did they pay as much as me?’

  The stablemaster laughs, and the black gelding snorts at the sudden noise.

  ‘Hah. It was just one man buying my last two mounts. Big fella. I first thought he was a vagrant when he walked in. Not a man you’d want to cross and certainly not one I’d have tried to get more coin from than the horses were worth.’

  That sounds promising. It could be Lotane had been here.

  I swing up into the saddle with fluid ease, exerting a little pressure with my thighs, and grunt in satisfaction as the horse responds, wheeling first left, then right. I take the reins loosely, nod my thanks, and heel the horse into the street, turning north.

  There are no pedestrians out, just tradesmen who scowl as I clatter along the streets. Only a noblewoman would have the arrogance to ride so noisily this early, but speed is of the essence.

  It isn’t long before I’m approaching the north gate, and momentarily my blood turns to ice. What if the city is still under attack? I’d suggested the others come here without even thinking about it till now.

  Wake up, Malina.

  I can’t afford to overlook such things, not now.

  Thankfully the gate is open, and only a bored guard stands in the roadway, motioning for me to stop.

  It’s light now, and if I stop and he recognises me, I won’t have any choice but to kill him, or news of my return will spread like wildfire. I slow, fumbling under my robes and pull out a coin. It’s silver, way too much … a copper would have been sufficient, but it catches the light nicely as I send it spinning through the air.

  I stifle a laugh as the guard drops his spear to make a desperate but successful grab for the coin.

  ‘That’s for your good work, soldier,’ I call as I canter past without stopping. Then the darkness of the wall tunnel engulfs me briefly before I’m free, the open trade road before me.

  ‘Come on, boy; show me what you’ve got,’ I shout, urging the horse into a gallop. I lean low over his neck, eyes half-closed against the wind as I let him have his head. After so much death and sadness, I welcome the feeling of exhilaration. The clatter of hooves on the paved surface helps to reinforce my sense of urgency.

  Ten weeks till Nogoth arrives. That time will disappear like sand through an hourglass. Every day, hour and minute matters. However, an exhausted horse won’t be of any use to me, so I rein him in, patting his neck gratefully as we slow to a gentle walk.

  Low mounds dot the landscape. They remind me briefly of those back in Nogoth’s valley that housed the human workers. Then I shake my head in recognition. These are burial mounds for those who probably died when the city was encircled. It reminds me that danger is ever-present and that despite the summer’s day and an open road, I can’t afford to be complacent.

  I dismount briefly, and take a few moments to unbelt my hidden sword, then refashion the leather straps to sling it over my back.

  It’s not long before I spy the River Del that sustains the capital, and I nudge my horse off the paved road toward its winding course. I don’t attempt to conceal myself and ensure my sword hilt is plainly visible.

  Birds sing, flying through the air, oblivious to my pain. Insects whir and buzz, likewise going about their business. I envy them for their life of simplicity. Would they even notice or care if humankind was slaughtered and enslaved in the hundreds of thousands? Somehow I doubt it.

  The question is, can anything be done to stop it?

  Thanks to both the ssythlans and the Chosen, the Delnorian Empire is in tatters. The armies of every nation are already locked in battle, unaware their every move has been orchestrated, ensuring Nogoth’s return meets a fractured opposition.

  Even if the kingdoms somehow put aside their differences, would their combined forces be enough to stop the army that will shortly flood through the World Gate?

  No. Not in an open battle. But there are other ways to fight an enemy if forewarned of the attack.

  It’s one thing for me to ensure Delnor becomes aware, assuming they believe me, but the rest of the world must know too.

  I urge the gelding to a trot with my mind set on a new course of action.

  ***

  A flash of light in the early dusk catches my eye. Turning to locate the source, I see the looming shapes of Kralgen and Lotane under a copse of trees further along the river bank.

  The timing couldn’t have been better as I was shortly to make camp and was beginning to worry that somehow I’d missed them. I hadn’t even come across their trail.

  I resist the urge to heel the horse faster, unwilling to risk its well-being if it stumbles on uneven ground. It’s a torturous five minutes.

  My horse snickers as I approach, and in response, two other horses reply, making me smile. It appears Lotane and Kralgen had indeed taken my gelding’s stablemates as their mounts.

  Kralgen limps forward, his demeanour dark, not a glimmer of his innocent happiness showing anywhere.

  ‘I’ll take care of your mount,’ he says, ignoring my attempt to embrace him. ‘The perimeter of our traps starts here,’ he indicates.

  ‘Thank you, Kral,’ I reply, walking past as he takes the reins.

  Lotane is standing there, the setting sun highlighting every feature. A latticework of cuts across his face and hands is complimented by bruised skin. His robe has been poorly repaired, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in such an utter mess.

  Yet he’s a sight for my sore eyes.

  The embrace we share isn’t one of unfettered joy, nor do we lose ourselves in the moment and enjoy a deep kiss. The wounds we bear inside and out and our situation make that entirely inappropriate.

  Nonetheless, I rest my head on Lotane’s chest, enjoying the steady beat of his heart.

  Kralgen has led my gelding past by the time we let go.

  ‘We’ve got good visibility from here,’ Lotane explains, pointing around. ‘We’ve set traps at intervals fifteen paces out, not that we’ve encountered any threats. We’ve fresh water from the river, and there’s good grazing for the horses. We have money, but except for the horses, we couldn’t risk staying around to spend it. We’re effectively weaponless as the trees hereabouts don’t offer good enough wood to even make a staff. Kralgen’s wound is deep but will heal given time. It needs attention, although he won’t sit still long enough for me to tend it. I’m sure the wound he carries inside hurts him a hundredfold more. He’s barely said a word to me; it’s eating him up.’

  I follow Lotane back to the camp. It’s rudimentary, but in a lovely spot overlooking the River Del. As I gaze toward the far bank, the dying light showcases a fertile land full of long grasses dotted with lush woodland.

  Suddenly an image of thousands of bodies imposes itself, all rent and broken, twisted in death, while above winged daemons fly. I shudder.

  ‘The temperature does drop out here as the sun sets,’ Lotane comments, mistaking my reaction for being cold. With a brief frown of concentration followed by a flicker of pain, he uses his magic to set a stack of kindling on fire in a shallow pit.

  Two large logs on opposite sides of the fire have been pulled over, and we sit in companionable silence. The crackle of burning wood and the music of flowing water create a soothing harmony.

  Not long after, Kralgen limps over, dropping the gelding’s saddlebags at my feet along with the horse blankets before standing a few paces distant, staring into the distance.

  ‘Please tell me you bought food,’ Lotane asks hopefully. ‘Kralgen’s growling stomach kept me awake all last night.’

  I know he’s trying to get a reaction from Kralgen with the tease, but it’s mistimed or perhaps unheard, for Kralgen doesn’t respond.

  Opening the saddlebags, I pull out the food satchel and water skins, lay a horse blanket on the ground and divide the food, putting the portions onto separate cloth wraps.

  Lotane reaches out to take a cake, but I smack the back of his hand.

  ‘Not yet!

  ‘Kralgen, come join us. We need to eat, and there’s a lot to discuss.’

  He stands still, a dark statue, looming and brooding.

  ‘KRALGEN, come here, NOW!’ I snap the order and am relieved that he responds to the command in my voice. He sits on the log opposite, his face lit by the flame, and I can see he’s barely holding himself together.

  ‘I, I n-need to ask you s-something, King Slayer,’ he stammers, eyes bright with unshed tears.

  I’ve been dreading this moment, for I knew it would come.

  ‘How did my Alyssa die?’

  There it is. How I answer might even determine whether another of us lives or dies. If Kralgen doesn’t like what I hear and enters a blind rage, he’s close enough to be upon me before I draw my weapon.

  Be ready.

  My magic responds, coiled, waiting to strike. A blast of wind to knock Kralgen backwards, allowing me to draw my sword and dagger. Then likely a hopeless exchange of words while I try to calm him before the bloodletting starts.

  But, if I play this right, it won’t be necessary. He’ll want to hear that Alyssa died like a goddess of war. Charging the ssythlans as they broke through the stairwell wall, hacking and cutting a bloody swathe through their ranks as she died in a blaze of glory.

  Indeed, it’s the only way to avoid bloodshed. A lie to begin the mending of a heart broken by losing a soul mate. But it would be a lie to a friend and a fellow Chosen. Someone who should be able to trust me with their life.

  ‘I killed her.’

  The words tumble from my mouth almost of their own volition, followed by guilty sobs wracking my body.

  ‘I killed her,’ I whisper, almost scared to hear the words out loud.

  Kralgen’s enormous hands ball into fists, yet I don’t call upon my power.

  He stands, limping around the fire, his face lit by the flames, a frightening caricature of its normal self. Lotane rises guardedly to his feet next to me, but against Kralgen in a rage, he’ll be swatted aside.

  Kralgen stops before me, and I rise, meeting his gaze through blurry eyes.

  What must be mere heartbeats seems to stretch for an eternity, and I wonder if I’ve even drawn breath in that time.

  Then those hands that could crush my skull or snap my neck in the blink of an eye are rising toward me, and still, I cannot move.

  ‘Thank you.’

  I don’t know what shocks me most, the words or the warm embrace that Kralgen enfolds me in. He keeps repeating the words over and again, softly, reassuringly, as much perhaps for him as for me. Kralgen’s gigantic form shakes with emotion, an outpouring of grief that has Lotane in tears too, his arms around us both.

  Kralgen’s gratitude and this moment we’re sharing, allowing our defences to drop, has a cathartic effect. When we finally step back, wiping our faces, at least some of the emotional trauma has been removed. I know conditioning has played its part, but on its own, it wouldn’t have been enough.

  ‘I feel lost,’ Kralgen admits as he sits opposite. ‘I’ve never been happier than these last years. I excelled at every task demanded of me and had Alyssa to share those moments with. Every day was golden.’

  His voice breaks a little, but he struggles on.

  ‘I’m a fighter, I always have been, but I’ve never felt more like lying down than right now.’

  ‘Now is not the time for lying down, Kralgen,’ I say, leaning forward earnestly. ‘There’s so much that needs to be done if we’re to have revenge.’ I use the word on purpose and see a twitch as the word hits home.

  ‘Revenge.’ Kralgen says the word as if he’s tasting something for the first time. ‘Tell us first, Malina, now we’ve the time. What happened? Everything moved so fast back at the Mountain. One moment Alyssa was asleep in my arms, and the next …’

  Kralgen chokes a little, blinking back tears again.

  ‘Anyway, start at the beginning when you disappeared. Then I want to know about the army Nogoth’s bringing. How many, and what kind of units. Finally, tell us what happens next. Once I know all that, then maybe I can think about revenge.’

  Kralgen is right.

  ‘Here.’ I hand out the food. ‘There might be sparse days ahead, so consider that as you eat.’

  We’re fortunate, for Ariane had packed away everything from meat to bread, and of course, there are her tea cakes. There’s enough food here for several days.

  Taking a deep breath, I gather my thoughts and realise there’s so much of the story I mustn’t share. One day I’ll tell Lotane about what transpired between Nogoth and I, but hurting him now will serve no purpose. At least, that’s how I justify it to myself.

  ‘I’ve often had doubts,’ I begin, ‘but it all came to a head when I killed the High King. Before I took his life, I could see he was so pure of spirit, and I knew the deed was wrong. Afterwards, as Lotane knows, I was troubled by guilt. At that time, I believed that Nogoth, in his goodness, might choose a different path if only he knew. Inadvertently, when I went on our mission, thoughts of when we’d spoken through the mirror entered my mind. One minute I was at the top of the Mountain of Souls, about to follow you all, and the next, I was waking up in another world.’

  ‘Another world.’ Lotane shakes his head. ‘If someone else said that to me, I’d just laugh in their face and believe them touched by the gods. Yet it’s you, and if we can travel around this one using a Soul Gate, why not to another.’

 

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