Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 5-8

Sarah K. L. Wilson

Published by Sarah K. L. Wilson, 2019.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

DRAGON CHAMELEON: EPISODES 5-8

First edition. May 16, 2019.

Copyright © 2019 Sarah K. L. Wilson.

Written by Sarah K. L. Wilson.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Behind the Scenes:

For all the patient people who (like Saboraak) put up with the “heroes” in their lives … this one is for you.

Chapter One

MY HEART THUDDED IN my chest like the hammers working the nearby forges. This area of Ko’Koren was given over to artificers – to blacksmiths and glassblowers, to framers, wheel wights, and candlemakers. A hundred shops with watery-glass window panes in their doors and brightly colored-signs were lined up along the lower tiers of Ziu.

My legs were heavy – two leaden weights – and my gait was not so much steps as simply a fall that was suddenly arrested by a leg stumbling forward, leading into the next stumble and the next.

My arms lost feeling hours ago. My lungs began to burn so long ago that it felt like they had been aflame for years. Oddly, I smelled smoke in the air to match them. Perhaps they had ignited, or perhaps it was simply the nearby forges.

I glanced often toward the horizon as I walked the boardwalks of the exposed mountain city, but with the snow coming down so heavy it was impossible to see anything beyond the rail. Only the darkness reminded me it was still night. I wasn’t even sure that daylight would brighten the world under such a heavy blanket of snow.

Zin – carried in my arms like a burden and wrapped in burlap to look like one – had stopped crying. Where her tears dampened my shirt, I only felt a chill now. Perhaps she was asleep. Perhaps she was dead – though she was warm still. Perhaps her mind – so close to the edge – had finally fallen from it. I didn’t dare stop to check. If I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to continue.

I couldn’t go back to safety through the tunnel on the Balde peak of the mountain city and I couldn’t stay on the Eski peak – that was too close to Apeq and his kind.

Going to Ziu was wisest. And now, I was looking for something particular. I would know it when I saw it.

I didn’t know if Saboraak was okay. Didn’t know if she and Bataar had survived. She had been silent for long hours. And her silence was not good.

I kept looking. I would know the place when I found it.

I was worried about Saboraak.

My thoughts were looping. I knew it, though I couldn’t stop it.

Looping.

Know it when I found it.

And then there it was. A red door with a sign stating it was an inn – The Frosty Pint – with a mug engraved on the sign and a snowflake. But it wasn’t the sign that I had been looking for – it was the small key shape carved like a decoration at the top of the doorframe. To the average person, it would only look like decoration. But me? I’d grown up on the streets of Vanika. I knew a few things. And this was one of them.

When someone opened the door, I shoved in past him. The inn was quiet and dark, with a fire in the main hearth burning. The man still holding the door open held a broom like he’d been sweeping up in the common area. He was dressed sloppily, his apron askew, his grey hair sticking in every direction, but he fixed me with a stare as sharp as the belt-knife I carried.

“Late to be out, lad,” he said, his tone suggesting he was looking for a specific response.

“I’ve business with the night,” I said casually, smiling. Just two men talking idly. But if he was who I thought he was, he should know the code I’d given.

Thieves were thieves, whether here or Vanika. And thieves needed items fenced or hidden.

“Best watch your step. The night hides many things,” he replied, still testing me but with a veiled threat.

I forced a laugh against the nerves welling up inside. “If only she’d hide a few for me!”

There was a twinkle in the man’s eye and now our smiles were genuine.

He leaned the broom against the wall and walked up to me. “Anything can be hidden ... for a price.”

I was expecting this. I had a gold coin ready. One of Hubric’s, but he left them to be used and I was using them.

“A gold coin now and one later if you hide me and my goods for a day or two – food included. Hot, if you have it,” I said. I knew he’d expect this. I’d heard the same interchange a hundred times when I was growing up.

He grinned. He should be grinning. If things were the same here as they were back in Vanika, two gold coins were more than he’d make in legitimate business in a month.

He took the coin quickly, palming it so fast I couldn’t tell where he’d put it. “I have just the place. Follow me, then. You look like you could use some sleep.”

A yawn ripped through me at his words, but there was no time to rest – not yet. I followed him up a staircase and then he walked to the end of the hall, looking furtively around before pressing on a wooden panel and leading us through a secret door and up a second – dustier – set of stairs that curved and wound past several doors until it reached one at the very top. The innkeeper pulled out a key and unlocked the final door, thrusting it open for me.

“I’m Gaven Ho’Wret, innkeeper here. The room is yours and for that payment, you can have it and the food for a solid week. Just don’t go showing off that hidden door to anyone or take anything stored up here or I’ll throw you off the roof.”

In anyone else, it would be an idle threat, but Gaven Ho’Wret was just stating facts. The casual look in his eye when he said it told me that much.

“Of course,” I agreed.

“I’ll send up breakfast when it’s ready. Until then, get some sleep.” He cracked a grin. “I hope that whatever you stole was worth it. It seems to have taken a lot out of you.”

He left a candle in a holder and closed the door behind him, giving me the chance to look around.

There was a tiny window – no larger than my face – with a curtain over it. A washstand and basin, a low bench, and a wide bed strewn with untidy blankets. Not the finest room in an inn, but a safe one. For tonight, at least. With a sigh, I gently placed Zin on the bed, my arms barely able to bend after being locked in place to carry her for so long. She lay curled up still as I unfastened the bindings that disguised her as a package, gently covered her with blankets.

When I was done, I barred the door.

I needed a better plan than this, but I was too tired for that. Just a little sleep and then I’d come up with something amazing.

Just a little sleep.

I should probably make a pallet on the floor for decency’s sake. I collapsed at Zin’s feet across the foot of the bed. I’d make a pallet in a moment. I just needed to close my eyes for a second.

Just for a second.

Chapter Two

I WOKE TO QUIET SOUNDS like scuffling mice. I sat up, blinking in the dim light of morning. I was ... somewhere ... oh, yes. The events of the night before crashed over me and my yawn cut off abruptly when I remembered how much trouble we were in.

I looked around the room, orienting myself. I’d collapsed on the foot of the bed with everything I still owned attached to me. Huddled at the head of the bed, her dress tucked neatly around her ankles and the book of Ibrenicus Prophecies in her hand, was Zin.

She seemed calm and she’d found time to wash and straighten her chin-length curls. Her huge golden eyes seemed to glow in the faint morning light.

“We need to talk,” I said.

Saboraak? Still, no response from my dragon and that was not good. Not good at all. It made me feel itchy under my skin.

In as few words as possible, I laid out our situation.

“I know you aren’t much of a talker,” I said, running a hand through my hair awkwardly. “And no one asked you if you wanted to come along for this. But here we are. We might be able to get you out of the city and safely away, but I have Saboraak and Zyla and Bataar to worry about too and until I find them, I have no one to send with you.”

“Feel the rush and fly the run, and sound the warning cry,” she whispered, quoting the prophecies.

“Those are some of the prophecies in the book,” I said, nodding. She was crazy. Out of her mind crazy. But she’d saved my life last night.

“Look,” I said, trying again. “I appreciate what you did last night. Whatever that was – bouncing the magic back at them – that was great. You saved my life. What did you do?”

She shuddered and I raised my hands to try to stop whatever train of thought I’d started.

“Sorry, sorry. I know you don’t like to talk.” Whatever it was, I hoped she’d do it again.

“Four there seem but five there be,” she whispered.

“Is that another one of the prophecies?” She didn’t answer, still flipping through the book. I laughed to myself. “Three and four and four and five. It’s like a child’s nursery rhyme.”

“Up he goes but can’t come down, not unless he wears a crown.”

I sighed. Talking to her was worse than useless. I should have known that she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – talk to me. Whatever the Magikas had done to her, after they killed her parents, had taken her mind. Or maybe she’d hidden it deep within and just didn’t trust me enough to show a hint of it.

“I’ll get you out of here somehow – I promise. But I don’t know how yet. Can you sit tight?”

She looked at me owlishly. It was all I could do not to sigh again.

“Can you wait here today? I’ll have food brought, okay? Just stay here, and read your book and stay out of sight and I’ll be back by nightfall, okay?”

She nodded. My hands clenched and unclenched, and I chewed my bottom lip, watching her. Could I trust her to understand? Could I trust her to stay here where it was safe?

There was a knock on the door and I opened it gratefully. The skinny innkeeper was back, this time with a tray of porridge.

“My woman runs things in the day,” he said. “I’m just delivering your porridge and then off to bed.”

He looked worse in daylight than he had last night – there was a faint bruise on his cheek and shifty look in his eyes. I swallowed hard. You worked with what you had and trusted as little as possible – but sometimes you still had to trust. And I was still pretty sure that the money was enough to hold his tongue.

I opened the door a little more so that he could see Zin sitting on the bed behind me. I didn’t like the look he had in his eyes as I fished in my belt-purse and found a silver coin by feel. I offered it to the innkeeper.

“My friend is going to stay here while I’m gone. This is for her safety and for her meals. If you leave her alone and bring the food – or have your wife do it – then I won’t have to take care of you.”

I let a dangerous look creep into my eye. Honey and fire. That was the best way to deal with vermin. Lure them with honey or burn them with fire. I was showing him I had both.

“I have no wife.”

“Your ‘woman’ then,” I replied, my lips twisting over the name. I didn’t like a man who showed his companion so little respect.

“Fine,” he said, rolling the coin between his fingers as I took the tray. He was looking curiously at Zin.

I set the tray down on the bed and took out my belt knife, calmly trimming my nails as I spoke. Best to remind him of who he was dealing with. Remind him that curiosity was unwelcome.

“I have dangerous business to attend to today. I’d hate to have to add more to that list.”

I fixed him with a stare and he swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed. Good. Make him nervous and he’d leave Zin alone.

“No need, master.”

“Good.”

He was gone so quickly that the stairs seemed to play a symphony of squeaks at his retreat.

“They won’t harm you,” I said to Zin. Her nose was buried back in the book. “Your breakfast is hot.”

She still didn’t look up.

She spoke suddenly. “The problem with lying isn’t just the morality of it. It’s that in the end, it’s impossible.”

Was that another prophecy?

“Zin?”

She didn’t answer. If it had been a real comment from her – if her mind had surfaced again for a moment – well, it was gone again now.

I sighed and left, closing the door carefully. I had no idea what to do with her, but I’d have to find something – and all on my own. She wasn’t giving me any help.

Tor?

I almost sagged with relief as Saboraak’s mental voice filled my mind. Finally!

Chapter Three

SABORAAK? ARE YOU OKAY?

For now. They gave us a merry chase.

With what?

I don’t have enough time to explain.

What was so pressing that she couldn’t explain?

The dragons are dying.

Didn’t she say that if I died, she would die soon after? Well, the riders for those dragons were dead.  I mean, anyone would feel bad, but she expected that, right?

Yes, I know about that. I have a decision to make.

And what would that be? I felt tense, nervous. She was going to leave with them, right? It would be okay. I’d been on my own for a long time. I didn’t need a dragon to babysit me. I’d take Zin and we would walk back to the Dominion. We would have to leave Zyla, obviously ...

I’m not going to abandon you, Tor.

Relief washed over me, but I tried not to show it. Okay, then what was the problem?

Bataar must meet Apeq man to man at the Seat of Judgment on Balde tomorrow night – at dusk. All of Ko’Koren will be there.

On Balde? I thought that thing was on Eski.

There is one at every peak. Bataar must meet him at the one on Balde.

That would be problematic. Bataar wasn’t here.

But I must get these dragons to safety. We must continue to avoid capture, but we must also get them to a place where they can be healed and the Lands of Haz’drazen – the country of dragons – are too far for them to fly there in time.

This could be healed?

If we are quick.

She must have somewhere in mind.

Bataar says it can be healed in the lands of the Kav’ai. They have access to things that can heal the dragons, he says.

And did she believe him?

He does not seem to be lying.

She must be talking directly to his mind. I was surprised by the pang of jealousy that I felt at that.

Don’t be a hatchling. He needs help. He is healing from the wounds he received in the battle last night, but he is still injured. I had to speak to his mind to be sure he could recover without help.

And you? I felt tense as I waited for her answer. It was strange to be standing here in this dusty storeroom stock-still while I listened to a dragon in my mind.

I escaped unscathed. For now. These people want dragons. They want these four, especially.

Four? Only four? I thought she had more.

We had a dozen. They chased us to the hideout last night. When I saw we would be discovered there, I fled to where I had hidden the dragons. I thought the place would be impenetrable. I was wrong. They descended on us quickly. Only five of us escaped. Bataar was on my back.

There had been more than that in the dragon cotes when we arrived in Ko’Koren.

Some were already missing when I freed those who remained. They speak of men in dark hoods with whips. Their friends were taken.

I shivered. Could the Midnight Artificers have taken those dragons? And if they did – what sort of an object would you make a dragon into? Something terrible, I bet. I wished I knew how many were missing.

Ten are missing.

She sounded very certain.

I did not wish to leave any behind. I questioned the others closely.

And where were Saboraak and Bataar now?

Far. I had to backtrack to find your mind, but I will need to leave again soon. We are far down the mountain, almost into the deserts of Kav’ai.

I felt shocked that they were already so far.

We fled all night. Soon I will lose connection with you.

I felt torn. I’d had to help Zin last night. But I should be with Saboraak. Both of them were under my care and needed my help. By helping one, I’d put the other in danger.

Bataar must meet Apeq on the Seat of Judgment – the Ko’tor’kaen- tomorrow night. But he must come with me and help me save these dragons. The journey, he says, will take four days – even if we are flying. Two days there. Two days back.

And Bataar could not be in two places at once. Maybe she could go without him. I could find him and get him back to the city in time. But in time for what? What was so vital about getting him back here in time?

Last night, Apeq laid claim to all of Ko’Torenth. He said in his speech that he would lead them to victory over the Dominion and “usher Kav’ai back into the fold.” The people were with him until Bataar challenged Apeq’s claim of all of Ko’Torenth, using the Ko on his arms as his proof of authority. There was a riot, people shouting and fighting from both factions. We barely got out alive.

So, if Bataar was not there for the challenge, then Apeq would rule unchallenged and that would mean the imminent invasion of the Dominion.

Yes.

Then Saboraak must fly Bataar back here immediately.

These dragons are worth saving. I will not abandon them. They served their riders faithfully. Death is not a fair price for that!

Well, we were in quite the pickle. Saboraak was bound by honor to help her own. I was bound to prevent a war. Bataar thought he was bound to prophecy and legend. We were quite the bunch.

I stood motionless in the dusty stairwell, my mind racing as I tried to picture Bataar and Saboraak last night. He had gone in his Kav’ai garb with his face and head covered by a thick veil and his loose clothing flowing around him. He had shown the Ko, made his challenge and left. The people wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a crowd. Not with his face covered.

Exactly.

But in Kav’ai, he was the only one who knew how to help the dragons. Saboraak needed him.

Yes.

The answer was so obvious that I almost laughed at myself.

You’re asking me to take his place, aren’t you Saboraak?

Yes. She sounded sheepish.

You want me to go stand on that awful platform again and face off with Apeq. But this time there would be no Saboraak to catch me when I fell. It would be suicide

Will you do it?

Ummm ... no? Was ‘no’ an option? It sounded like suicide, and despite what it might look like, I was not suicidal.

I need this, Tor. I need to save these dragons. This is the only way. You’ve survived worse. Her mental voice seemed to be pleading.

I only survived before because she was with me! But that was it, wasn’t it? She’d saved my hide many times. What kind of worm would I be if I didn’t give her what she wanted?

I swallowed. This was a terrible idea. An idea that was almost certain to get me killed.

It’s a gamble and you are a gambler.

It made me think of Zin’s words. Lying was impossible. Maybe. But maybe I could pull it off. Maybe I could gamble one more time and live. I was good at showing people what they wanted to see. I’d just do it one last time and then Zin and I would leave here. Maybe even with Zyla in tow.

I knew I was talking myself into it, but I couldn’t stop.

Had Saboraak seen Zyla last night?

Last time I saw her, she was safe.

Well, that was a relief. What was going to happen to Bataar – to me posing to be Bataar –  after he challenged Apeq? Was he expecting to be imprisoned? Followed?

He thinks the rulers of Ko’Torenth will bend the knee to him. That it is his destiny. He says the prophecies are clear. If you can just hold on for a few days and keep your identity hidden, then he will return and take over ruling from you.

A risky plan. They could choose Apeq instead.

He says that they can’t.

They could decide to kill me just for standing up there. Especially if they realized who I was!

Don’t be dramatic.

Fine, Saboraak. I’ll do it - but you owe me.

What do I owe you, trout? If my tally is correct, I’ve saved your life four times now.

I deflated. When she put it that way ...

Her voice interrupted hurriedly.

I’m joking, Tor. I’ll always be there when you fall.

It was Bataar who was getting out of all of this too easy. He’d wanted to be free of responsibility. Wasn’t it convenient that he’d found some other fellow to shuffle it onto just in time?

He didn’t plan this.

Maybe not, but he was about to benefit from it.

I must go.

Yeah, go. Just stay safe. Don’t die on me.

Same to you.

I felt her mental voice leave me.

Fine Dragon Rider I was. I couldn’t even keep my dragon around, much less keep her to myself. It seemed that big heart of hers was always flying off to save someone or another.

I smiled affectionately as I finished making my way down the stairs, snuck out the secret doorway, through the hall, and into the inn’s common room.

I had two days of freedom until I had to face Apeq and I planned to use every minute of those days getting myself some kind of an advantage.

Chapter Four

ADVANTAGES, IT SEEMED, were hard to come by in Ziu. I hadn’t realized how different this peak was from the others in Ko’Koren. Ziu was rife with the criminals. I hadn’t seen any on the boardwalks of Balde and Eski. I’d almost been pickpocketed more times than I could count in the first hours that I wandered through the levels.

Small knots of scarred men and women huddled in any shadow or crevice there was between buildings, speaking in low voices and sending shifty-eyed glares in my direction.

Crime wasn’t the only things rife in Ziu. This was where things got done.

There was barely an Exalted guard or fancy house in sight. Instead, the boardwalks were jam-packed with porters and yudazgoat drivers. Open carts filled with coal moved in a steady stream along the cart rails, the sounds and smells of blacksmiths, tanners, butchers, and chandlers filled the air. I smelled gore as I passed the butcher that changed to a sweet lavender at the chandlers and a smell that made my belly rumble as I passed a bakery. The bakery spanned three levels, churning out golden bread at an unbelievable rate. Men with massive baskets strapped to their backs exited the bakery, darting along the boardwalks and up the stairways on a mission to deliver it all over the city.

Ziu was a place I could love. I could live in these streets.

I’d stopped at the bakery, buying a huge loaf of bread as long as my arm and as thick as my wrist and breaking off pieces of the steaming loaf as I walked, stuffing them in my mouth. Yes, I could get used to Ziu.

I was looking for a few things. First among them, was a set of throwing knives. Once you got the hang of juggling, throwing knives was an easy skill to pick up and I’d had an old set before Vanika fell. But throwing knives were expensive. Getting the weight just right took skill. I hadn’t been able to afford a replacement set after I lost my first ones – an aged pair I’d bought from a fence eager to get rid of them. Until now. Hubric’s gold would go a long way.

I darted through the crowds, scanning shop signs and windows with care. My gaze snagged on a figure in a blue tunic and cloak peering at me through the crowds. I must stand out despite my attempt to blend in. Either that, or someone from the Midnight Artificers was looking for me here. They’d better not be. If they were, this was all going to be a lot more difficult.

When the crowd jostled him and he had to look away, I ducked into the nearest knife shop, browsing over their wares. On a shelf behind the counter, a set of eight steel throwing knives with sheaths for wrists and ankles sang to me like a siren. The other knives in the shop were heavily decorated with House crests or scrollwork. These were unadorned but perfectly crafted.

“Can I see those?” I asked the shopkeeper.

“A good eye, fine sir. Though these are simply my shop models. They are balanced but undecorated. Merely placeholders to show the quality of the blade. We can decorate the handles with a crest or design as you like. Give us twenty days and we will perfect them for you. Or, if you are pressed for time, perhaps I can show you some finished products. Something with silver inlaid, perhaps?”

As if a knife cut any deeper because it had a pretty handle!

“Can I check the balance?”

He handed me one and I tested it, checking to see how it balanced over a single finger. I twisted my hand, letting the knife roll across my knuckles and then back into my grip. Perfect.

“These will do,” I said briskly. “How much?”

“I sell the finished sets,” the shopkeeper said, emphasizing the word ‘finished’ in a firm tone, but his eyes were on my hands as I made the blade dance along my knuckles again and then spin through the air in an arc to my other hand. “A finished set is sold for five gold coins. I can show you a set I finished last night. Their balance is lovely and the scrollwork on the handles exquisite.”

He smiled, twirling a wide mustache, but there was a worried look in his eyes. Clearly, I was breaking custom, but I didn’t care. I was no Exalted to throw pretty toys around. I meant to do business with these knives. Who would want to leave their signature every time they left a knife in someone?

I slipped a second one from its casing, juggling the two knives in a simple crossover pattern. Carefully, I added a third. This was the edge of what I could do with juggling knives, but they performed well, balancing as expected.

“If you are a performer, perhaps something with crystals in the pommel? Something that flashes, yes?”

In answer, I let the knives fall in a line along his wooden counter, trying not to look too smug at his shock when all three landed perfectly, their tips buried in the wood and their handles vibrating.

“Just these, I think, and the rest of their set.” I reached into my purse for five gold coins, lining them up neatly along the counter. I added one more to the line. “And an extra coin for your discretion.”

No need to have him telling every fool who came in about the boy who bought his knives for a fool’s price. The shopkeeper’s eyes popped, but he swept the gold into his hand without a pause and smiled widely as he helped me position the wrist and ankle sheaths and arrange the eight knives.

“A fine purchase, hopefully for a fine gentleman?”

He must think I was off to rob someone with them. Nothing could be further from the truth ... well, unless you considered stealing a kingdom to be theft. Perhaps that was the greatest theft of all. But Apeq was stealing it first.

I left the shop with a feeling of hope. Maybe there would be a way to survive this next step. Eight knives could only help my chances, right? I scanned the streets for the man in blue, but even he had disappeared. Yes, there were reasons to be hopeful.

By the time I started back to the inn, with darkness falling around me, I had found everything we would need. Clothing, weapons, and ways to carry them. Hope made my burdens light and my step easy.

I’d hesitated when I was purchasing things for Zin, but I couldn’t leave her here. I’d just have to trust that she had enough sense left to survive this with me. She was the only ally I had nearby. And the only friend.

Chapter Five

THE SIGN FOR THE FROSTY Pint was in sight when I rounded the last corner. I was hunched against a freezing wind and the flaying ice dust that drove before it. The shadows were long and black, and the snow was blue under the darkening sky. A dangerous time to be out in the boardwalks. I quickened my pace.

The snow had drifted, filling some of the crevices between the buildings, but the one nearest me had an odd look – like it was too black. That didn’t make sense at all. I peered into it, my eyes blinded by the bright lights in the inn windows nearby.

I was still peering into the shadow when an arm reached out of it, grabbed me by the front of my coat and dragged me into the narrow crevice. My packages fell to the ground.

I had a knife in my hand before I could blink, grateful for the purchase. Even more grateful that my hand didn’t shake despite my soaring pulse.

There was a harsh laugh from the shadow and a hand shot out to hold my wrist.

“You’re going to stab me, boy? And here I thought you’d be glad to see me.”

I gasped. Silver swirled in the depths of those eyes and a hulking frame towered over me, but there were no swirling violet robes. Shabren wore the clothing of the Order of the Oaks instead, his simple white robe bare to the snow and wind without even a heavy cloak to protect him. He must like frostbite. Or maybe he was so vain he just didn’t care.

“Having fun in the slums, Shabren?” I tried to keep my voice light and mocking. “And here I thought you were getting your jollies causing riots.”

“I cause nothing, boy. I simply ride the wave of chaos.”

I tried to pull out of his grasp, but he was too strong. The hand gripping my wrist tightened. I could go for the knife in the other sleeve, but I needed to wait. If I revealed that I had more than one, then he could use his overpowering strength to stop me. I needed to wait until I could surprise him. If I could keep him talking ...

“So that wasn’t you I saw controlling those golems?”

“Oh, look what a smart lad you are with fancy names for magical creatures.”

He stomped on my instep to punctuate his sentence and I moaned, barely biting back a yell. Stars and skies! That hurt! Air hissed through my teeth as I slumped against his grip.

“I want those girls back, boy,” he hissed.

“Then talk to your friend Apeq A’kona,” I said through gritted teeth as the pain washed over me. “He has them.”

“He only has one. The other slipped away. And she left quite a mess behind her. I’ve known that girl for a long time – months. You could call us ‘old acquaintances.’” I shivered at his words, but he kept talking. “I’ve never seen her hurt a fly. So, I asked myself, I said, Shabren, who do you know who has a tendency to muck up people’s plans? Who do you know who likes to snatch girls away? Who do you know who likes bread?”

“Bread?” I scoffed. I was slowly working the knife in my other sleeve out of its holster. Inch by inch, I was slipping it into my palm.

“You stole a bag of bread when you brought that lizard down on our camp. But I don’t see a lizard here.”

“That’s ‘dragon’ not lizard,” I muttered, but I was thinking.

Bread. He must have had a spy planted at the bakery. I’d been stuffing my face with bread that morning while some hidden rat brought him word of my location. Could it have been the man in blue? I’d been happily shopping for gear while Shabren was making his way here. Careless fool! Now, I was at his mercy.

“It’s whatever I say it is, boy.”

Pain shot through my arm. Pain so intense that the knife in the hand he held fell from my grip to land silently in the snow. Shabren threw a hand over my mouth, blocking my screams and shoved me back against the stone wall of the building as wave upon wave of pain tore through me.

“Tough,” he muttered. “Tougher than anyone would guess.”

I fought the pain, slipping the dagger the rest of the way out of the sleeve of my free hand and down into my grip so I could strike. My hand arced around, jabbing the knife up at him, but he knocked it easily to the side. I shuddered under the waves of pain, coughing wildly as it choked the life out of me.

I would die here in the snow at the hands of Shabren. Panic swept over me, choking out thought. I was going to die. Each heartbeat thudded through me - a loud surprise – as if they were trying to be noticed before they were gone.

He released me so suddenly that I slumped against the wall, unable to move, unable to breathe. My vision narrowed to darkness. I fought against it feebly. Whatever he had done – whatever magic he had used – had crippled my mind with pain. I cringed from it still, not even wanting to breathe in case one more breath brought that pain back.

“Where is the girl?” Shabren demanded. “She has the book – I know it!”

“Not here,” I choked out. I’d almost forgotten that Shabren was looking for Hubric’s book.

“Then where?” He raised his hand, ready to strike again.

“Hidden.”

He smiled. “That’s not a problem, rat. We’ll do a little exchange. You know how those work, right? You give me something and I give you something.”

“If you want fashion advice,” I said through gritted teeth, fighting the continued echoes of pain that stiffened my muscles and joints. “You can have it for free. Stop it with the robes. They do nothing for your legs.”

He slapped me so hard my head rang. I spat blood out on the snow, my suddenly fat lips making a mess of trying to spit.

“Save your lip for someone who cares. I have your friend and the dragon.”

I shot of fear spiked through me. Saboraak! But I couldn’t hear her voice ...

Shabren’s bared teeth glinted in the light from the nearby inn. “You can have them back if I get the girls back. Tomorrow before midnight. Fail to arrive, and the next time you see them, they’ll be hanging on the walls of the Jadefire House of Marvels.”

Fear tore through me. I didn’t doubt that he could do exactly what he promised. I let myself slump the rest of the way to my knees, disguising my fumble at my boot. My fingers still felt thick from the pain. I needed to concentrate. If I could pull a knife from my boot ...

“You’re going to bring them to the Bright Redemption and then – ”

My hand whipped out of my boot, lightning fast, flinging the dagger at his chest. It stuck in his shoulder and he stumbled backward with a grunt.

No time to wait! I snatched another one out of my boot just in time. He lunged forward again, lightning crackling from his hand. I flung the dagger. It twisted in the air as his hand shot forward, light erupting around it.

The knife stuck in his palm at the same moment that the lightning struck me, searing my chest for a fraction of a second before it faded. I clutched my chest, fighting for consciousness, my hand fumbling for another dagger, but my arm was too heavy, my fingers too thick. Pain disrupted everything, freezing thought in waves, freezing movement in choking agony.

“You have until tomorrow,” someone said. Someone who made pain.

I slumped into the snow.

Cold on my face.

Feels good.

Stars up in the black sky.

So pretty.

The world spun. My body was too heavy to move. My eyes too wide to shut. I breathed in but couldn’t breathe out again.

My vision narrowed, the sky growing smaller, smaller, smaller to the smallest pinprick.

And then there were hands on me, gathering me up out of the snow and pulling me onto the lap of someone warm with life.

I closed my eyes and leaned into the sensation of safety. Maybe it would only last a few fleeting seconds. Maybe that was all I had.

Chapter Six

I WOKE TO WARMTH AND softness. My eyes snapped open and I scrambled to sit up. Uh oh. My knives were gone. Not just my knives, but my clothing, too – all except for my breeches – which were soaking wet from melting snow.

“Shhh,” a voice murmured from behind me and I spun to see Zin watching me with a concerned look on her face.

We were in the room in The Frosty Pint, and I was in the bed. Beside Zin, laid out across the floor, were the packages I’d purchased yesterday and my knives. She’d recovered six of them and lined them up in a row. She’d hung my wet clothes around the brazier that warmed the room.

I’d never felt so ... cared for. Not since I was a child. It made me feel uncomfortable.

I swallowed nervously. “Thank you, Zin.”

Her nod was a quick jerk, like a frightened bird might give, but she met my eyes with her golden gaze. I felt my cheeks heat at the surprise of that.

“It must not have been easy to get me up here.”

My head pounded like a drum. The pain making me want to sink back into the bed. Saboraak? Are you there? Still nothing. Wherever they had her, she wasn’t able to talk to me. And that was not good at all. And how would I fool them into thinking I was Bataar if they had him, too? This whole situation was so far beyond my control that I was never going to be able to claw out of it.

“Did you have help?” I asked gently.

She nodded, a ghost of a smile flickering over her lips.

“The innkeeper?”

Another nod.

“Did ... anyone else ... see you bring me here?”

She shook her head, eyes wide.

Perhaps we were safe here. But Shabren had found me here and once someone pulled those knives out of him and patched him up, he’d be back. At least he didn’t see Zin. At least he didn’t catch her.

“We can’t stay here. It’s not safe. They’ll be looking for me.”

She wrapped her arms protectively around her.

“Look, don’t be scared, okay? I’ll keep you safe.”

A ridiculous promise coming from a man who was weak as a kitten – a man she’d had to drag to his bed. But she smiled – a real smile, though a small one.

“I’ll keep you safe, too.”

I couldn’t stop shock from painting my face and her tiny smile deepened a hair at my reaction. She’d spoken real words. Not prophecies. Not crazy talk. Her real thoughts.

I didn’t want to wreck this. It should be Zyla here. Or even Bataar. Definitely Saboraak. Any of them would have known how to handle this better than I did. I was pretty sure that if I said the wrong thing, she’d retreat back into herself. I was too rough of a character –  too boisterous – for the responsibility of healing the broken.

I tried the gentlest smile I could and said, “I think you already have. Thank you.”

Her faint blush as she bit her lip didn’t seem like a bad reaction. She seemed nervous, but that wasn’t bad, right? I hadn’t broken her again. Or at least, I didn’t think I had.

I pulled myself to my feet. I needed to dress and get back outside. There was light shining through the window. I’d been out all night. If I didn’t get moving, I wouldn’t have time to look for Saboraak and Bataar before I had to take Bataar’s place standing up to Apeq.

“I need to go out and look for something,” I said gently. “In the evening, I need to go to the top level of Balde and stand in Bataar’s place to challenge Apeq for the right to rule here.”

She nodded. “Up he goes but can’t come down, not unless he wears a crown.”

I raked my hand through my hair, wincing. She was back to prophecy. I must have said something wrong.

“It’s about you.”

My eyes shot back up to hers. Oh. Not crazy again. Or at least, not yet.

“They’re all about you,” she said shyly.

I laughed. “I doubt that. Bataar says there are prophecies about him, though. Maybe that is one of them.”

“It’s almost evening now,” she said simply.

I felt like the breath was knocked out of me. No, no, no! It couldn’t be! I rushed to the window, pulling back the thick curtain and looked out the narrow slit to the world beyond. She was right. The streets had the subdued action of late afternoon, of business winding down and people growing less focused. The sun hung low in the sky – not quite sunset yet, but far from noon.

I’d lost a whole day. I was out of time. I needed to decide – and decide right now! – what I was going to do.

Should I keep my promise to Saboraak and go to the Seat of Judgment in Bataar’s place, or should I search for Saboraak and Bataar? They could be in trouble. They could be hanging from a ceiling somewhere, their souls being channeled into items ...

But I wouldn’t know where that was. Could I even find it before midnight? The people who would know would be at that ceremony – Apeq for sure, and maybe even Shabren. I stared at the sun, low in the sky, counting out hours in my head. I barely had time to make it to Balde before dusk, never mind to find Saboraak or Bataar in a massive tri-peaked city.

I didn’t really have a choice. It was go in Bataar’s place and try to see what I could do, or fret and busily search for something I had no hope of finding.

I sighed.

“I’m afraid that I’m going to need your help again, Zin.”

Chapter Seven

WE HITCHED A YUDAZGOAT ride to the peak of Balde. I’d noticed the carts carrying passengers all day when I was out searching for the supplies. It was faster than traveling by foot for two reasons – the yudazgoats could pull cargo up steep inclines at the same pace they could walk across a boardwalk, and the cargo tracks did not need to pass every house and business or weave between squares and statues. They simply went in straight lines from one hub to the next. Passengers sat in special carts constructed with high-backed benches that pivoted to accommodate the steep pitches and angles.

Even with that mindful construction, the journey had been nerve-wracking. I could see why Ko’Torenthians used the passenger carts so rarely. The way the seats tipped and pivoted made me ill and the sheer heights and drops were made even worse when I realized my whole life depended on the surefootedness of a bad-tempered cart animal.

We were carrying everything we owned – which was precious little – in the small packs I’d acquired – under our Kav’ai clothing. Our loose trousers tucked into knee-high soft boots and our heads and faces swathed in veils. The clothing was probably very effective in the desert. On the mountain, it was miserably cold, even with thick cloaks for protection.

Flaming Bataar and his flaming prophecies!

I felt guilty for the thought. Bataar was in trouble somewhere and he needed my help. I shouldn’t be cursing his name. But why did he challenge Apeq at all? Why get into a war over the leadership of a nation he hated?

I knew what I was doing. I was distracting myself from thinking about what came next. After all, even I had to admit that anything that could prevent war was worth trying. I’d seen war. Images flooding my mind at the very thought of the word – people screaming as fire consumed them. Bodies dashed to the side by raging dust demons. I clamped my eyelids tightly and shoved the thoughts away. The effort left me shaky and breathing hard. No, war was not something I could stomach again.

But I hated the thought of standing up on that horrible platform again with Zin beside me. I was worried about her. Worried about me. Worried about failing.

Zin was going to find Zyla in the crowd – I was betting she’d be there – and see if Zyla knew where Bataar and Saboraak were being held. She should be able to move unnoticed with all eyes on me. Or at least, that was the plan. It was the best plan I could think of to keep her safe.

I shivered. It was the part where all eyes were on me that had me nervous as a rat in lantern light. I didn’t even know what I was going to say or do. I was just going to have to wing it.

Unfortunately, the veil ruled out charming smiles, though I’d tucked my daggers into my sleeves and boots with care. It was too bad that I’d lost two right away. I would probably need every one I could get if things went bad. Six left. Six to use with care.

Zin laid a delicate hand on my arm. I tried to smile confidently at her – she must be nervous! – but the veil was in the way, so I settled on patting her hand. I’d warned her that if things went south – if it looked like I wouldn’t get out alive, then she should run to Zyla. I was pretty sure that firecracker of a girl would take on the whole of Ko’Torenth to keep her sister safe.

I swallowed hard as the yudazgoats crested the slope to the final stop.

“You get off the cart here,” the driver said in a drawl. He was an oddly plain man and he’d barely said a word since we’d hired him. No flare for the dramatic at all. “No carts allowed on the top level but there are stairs here.”

I passed him a coin – the agreed upon price – and helped Zin off the cart. Okay, Tor. Look lively. Things are about to get crazy.

I was already scanning in every direction, looking for danger, trying to ignore the edgy feeling licking at the tips of my nerves.

“The day of walking legends comes. A Legend returned for the north to fill the breach, to stop the leak of souls and death of power,” Zin whispered.

We started up the stairs. There was no one else around, though the buzz of voices and noise of people filled the air above us.

“You sure like those prophecies,” I said, still trying to keep my mind off what I was doing.

“Truth laid bare.

Souls spread out.

Clear the air.

Quell all doubt.

He comes to reign and rule.

He rakes us over fire.

Before him bend the fools.

They plummet from the spire,” Zin quoted.

I left her to it. It seemed to calm her. They meant nothing to me. You could pull anything out of that and say it was the fulfillment of prophecy. I bet there’d be people bowing to the Exalted when we cleared the stairs. That could be bending fools. But, so could people bowing for the headsman’s axe. Or to gather up coins spilled from a slashed purse. Or any number of fool things.

I was more concerned with real problems and real predictions.

I swallowed, trying to wet my dry mouth and trying really hard not to remember my own predictions. This couldn’t possibly end well for me. Maybe it would end well for Zin if I gambled right. I tried to run my hand through my hair. The thick fabric wrapped around my head blocked the motion and I frowned. I felt ridiculous in this outfit. I felt like an imposter.

We crested the stairs and the sound of a thousand voices fading to silence howled in my ears.

I was an imposter.

I should never have promised to do this. As I scanned the faces lining the boardwalk and looking down from the windows above the carved friezes, my head spinning with the thin air and the terrible anticipation, I knew I shouldn’t have made that promise to Saboraak. Where was my old dragon? I felt like a man missing a hand with her gone. All I had left of her was my promise to her.

And what was a man without his word? I took pride in lies. I was proud of my ability to spin a story. But I’d never go back on a promise. Or at least, I hadn’t ever thought I would.

The crowd parted on either side of me, silent as every eye turned to us. No one was dressed in the Kav’ai fashion today. That trend must feel dangerous on a day like today.

Instead, they all wore the furs and leathers of Ko’Torenth. Many wore an Exalted house crest – flame, smoke, bird, or oak wreath. And many more than I would have expected wore the clothing of the Order of the Oak. There must be a lot of them in high society since common people were warned away from this level and this gathering.

I peered at every face I could see as we slowly walked forward, looking for silver swirls in the eyes of the onlookers, but there were too many faces to check. Here, a long-chinned man wearing oak leaves glared at me. There, a young woman with flushed cheeks drew back in fear. Any of them could be Midnight Artificers, working with Shabren to steal the soul of my dragon.

If I found out which ones they were, I’d give them a reason to pull back.

It took long minutes to traverse the crowd. Why did anyone build a city on a mountain? Gathering a crowd here was miserable. No one could see what was happening. Everyone relied on word of mouth. Worse, it made everyone there vulnerable to attack. We’d seen that with the two golems Shabren had unleashed. Hadn’t these people learned their lesson?

As I drew closer to the Seat of Judgment - the Ko’tor’kaen - my feet felt heavier with every step. It was only Zin’s calm presence beside me that kept me from turning around and going back in the other direction. If she could be calm, surely, I could be calm.

It wasn’t until I was almost upon the strange structure – a platform sticking out from the top tier of Ko’Koren, held up by three arms – that I saw Apeq.

He was smiling slightly as I approached, as if he already knew my secret – knew the sweating boy in the Kav’ai clothing was nothing more than a fraud.

I felt a stab of ice run through me when I saw who was beside him. On one side, was Zyla, looking far too excited to see me. I’d be flattered if I really thought that look was for me, but I was dressed as Bataar and posing as him. I had no idea that the two of them had grown so close.

On the other side, smiling broadly with a look of triumph on his face, was Shabren the Violet. He stood carefully, like he was injured – I guess even he didn’t heal from a knife to the shoulder overnight – and his hand was wrapped with bandages from my thrown knife. Today he wore Apeq’s house crest – the flame. And his eyes swirled with silver.

Chapter Eight

I ALMOST FAILED TO notice the other men and women on either side of Apeq, but now that we were close one of them stepped forward. He was a swarthy man with the Oak Wreath on his chest which made him an Exalted of House Ye’Kut. His thick-cowled cloak and embroidered coat marked him as wealthy, even if someone failed to notice the silver cloak-pin and silver-inlaid bracers.

These others on either side of Apeq must be the other leaders of Exalted Houses. They were equally well dressed, heads held high as if they were too important to hunch against the cold. They stood in groups or knots – whether from the limited room of the boardwalks or because they were divided by faction, who could say? The women were equal with the men and wore equally fine clothing, their hair elaborately dressed in puffs and waves. Together, they made a stern crowd.

The man who stepped forward – Exalted of House Ye’kut - looked eager, his chin held high and his chest still as if he were almost holding his breath.

Before we were fully in earshot, he began to speak to the still crowd. “We gather in the heart of Ko’Koren.”

“Gather,” the people around me intoned together, placing two fingers sticking out from a fist to one shoulder as if in a salute. I almost jumped out of my skin. The nobility in Ko’Koren were some of the creepiest people I’d ever met. Anyone who liked chanting that much needed to be watched.

“We gather as in times of old,” the Exalted of House Ye’kut continued, his dark hair blowing wildly in the wind as small flurries whipped up and then settled in the gusty breeze. At times, his words were strong and loud, and then one or two would be blown away, lost to the wind.

“Gather,” the people echoed, their tone low and lamenting. At least I could follow what was happening in their echoes.

Skies and stars, they were spooky!

And that look Zyla was giving me – like I was some sort of bright hope on a distant horizon. Augh! Flaming Bataar and his flaming good looks and foreign ways. If I’d known she would look at him like that I’d have never let her ... well, it wasn’t like I’d let her, exactly. She’d made that decision on her own. Not that I objected, of course!

And now I was rambling in my own mind trying to avoid the memory of that kiss and how warm and soft it had been. I was as bad as Zin. Maybe worse. I should be watching. I should be paying attention to this ceremony.

A second Exalted stepped forward – a man too fat for this city. Any commoner stayed lean as a snake with all the constant climbing up and down on the stairs and ladders. The smoke swirl on his chest proclaimed him the Exalted of House Gamni. Seeing that smoke swirl made my arms itch where they were marked with the same swirling smoke. The Exalted of House Gamni looked different without his mask. His face had a hungry look despite his heavy frame.

“We gather for justice,” he intoned.

“Justice,” the people agreed, moving their two fingers to stand up in front of their noses as if they were pretending to have beaks.

Go ahead, people, just think the thoughts fed to you. They were as bad as yudazgoats. As bad as Zyla with her hands clenched in her skirts looking taut as a bowstring as she waited for Bataar to acknowledge her. Faugh! She could keep on waiting.

“We gather to ask the Ko’tor’kaen - the Seat of Judgment – to rule over us. To give justice,” Gamni said.

“Justice.”

Woah. Ummm ... rule? That weird thing was going to somehow make a judgment about me? Oh no, no, no. Tor Winespring did not like this turn of events. Here’s the thing, if a guy is going to be judged, its better if it’s by another human. Objects weren’t just. They were just inhuman. By definition. I’d had quite enough inhumanity for one lifetime.

There you are!

My eyes widened as a voice filled my mind. It wasn’t Saboraak. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in a long time.

Kyrowat?

I’ve been searching everywhere for your mind. It helped that you thought your name so clearly.

Ha! My internal monologue was finally worth something.

Zin and I finally drew up the last few paces away from the intoning Exalted. As I came to a halt, I saw from the corner of my eye that she was following our plan. She slipped into the crowd, quietly weaving toward Zyla.

I clenched my jaw. Zyla was one thing. Being that close to Shabren and Apeq was another. But we had to take the risk. We had to gamble.

Are you close, Kyrowat? I could use your help.

In a tight spot, boy?

Clearly. I was here to confront Apeq and he had a lot more people on his side than I did – seeing as I had two and they were twin girls with no power beyond their clever minds.

A third Exalted – this one a woman in a dress marked with a Tanager stepped forward. Her voice was surprisingly resonant for a woman of her years and she towered over the men.

“The Judgment of the Ko’tor’kaen will be accepted by all as final,” she proclaimed in a reedy voice.

“Final,” the people intoned, raising a second hand with two fingers raised and then crossing both arms over their chests.

“The challengers will submit to the ruling.”

“Submit,” the crowd boomed.

Oh boy, I didn’t like the sound of that. Where were Kyrowat and Hubric in all this? Were they close?

Your mind does not feel far. I could almost hear the growl in his voice.

Then where are you?

Hanging around. There was a tinge of irony to the thought.

“Do the challengers wish to speak?” the Exalted of House Tanager asked.

All eyes turned to me.  I shook my head. If I spoke so much as a word I’d be found out – by Apeq at the very least. Shabren and Zyla also knew my voice. I saw Zin leaning close to Zyla, whispering in her ear while the crowd was distracted by the ceremony. Zyla kept her eyes straight ahead, her face blank, and her arms crossed over her chest like everyone else. The perfect Exalted of Ko’Koren.

Apeq raised an arm over his head in a gesture that looked oddly triumphant, two fingers still extended. The woman stepped back and he stepped forward to address the crowd.

If Hubric and Kyrowat could get here before the challenge started, I could scoop the girls up and we could fly to freedom. Could they get here in time?

Do you know a place called the Bright Redemption?

Far too well.

Send Saboraak to us there and then we will come to you.

Wait. Sudden realization sunk through me like a stone through water. They were captives, weren’t they? Captives who were literally ‘hanging around.’ Kyrowat?

It’s embarrassing, but it seems, we need your help.

And there was no Saboraak to help. And I was stuck here for the duration of the challenge. Alone.

Not alone. I’m here. Sort of.

What did Hubric think I should do?

Who knows. He’s out cold. Still alive, I think.

I swallowed against the heavy lump in my throat. The stakes just got higher. Bataar and Saboraak. Hubric and Kyrowat. Everyone needed my help and needed it now. And I was up here in a vice.

Apeq cleared his throat. “You’ve heard my speech before. I will not bore you with many words, brothers and sisters, simply remind you what I fight for today. Our cities depend on magic. Without it, we will crumble and fade from the earth before the next generation is born.

“But, our magic fades. Our chance at recovering what little magic is left in the world is a small one. A small one made impossible by our neighbors to the south who hoard their resources against us. They taunt us with what they still have and what we have lost.

“Ko’Torenth is not a land to be mocked. We are no laughingstock. We will surge south and take what is rightfully ours. We will take from the Dominion the dragons who once belonged to our ancestors – the dragons they have hoarded for far too long. We will resurge and rise from the dust of magic like a dragon erupting from its egg. Strong. New. Powerful.

“But this cannot be done without unity. Without the Ko of the four families united. And this challenger wears Ko. He dares to hold what our Exalted families require to exercise our power. Only one man or woman may wear a Ko at one time. Unless this man gives his up, one of our Exalted families will remain bereft and our nation weaker for their loss. This cannot be allowed to happen.

“Worse. He challenges my plan and my authority to lead you. If he prevails today, all is lost.

“And so, with regret, I bring him before the Seat of Judgment. And as our ancestors were judged by the Ko’tor’kaen, laid bare, and marked by judgment, so I ask the seat to do so now. We have never needed to guess who was deemed worthy by the Ko’tor’kaen before, and we need not worry now. Judgment will be swift. And then our Exalted may take their rightful place.

“May the heart of the hero remain.”

The people echoed him, but not in a dull chant this time. Their call seemed to roar over the city below. They thrust their hands in the air in double-handed two-fingered salutes, just like Apeq’s as they called out the response.

“The heart of the hero!”

“Only the hero will stand,” Apeq bellowed, arms above his head.

“The Hero!” This time the roar reverberated painfully through my ears. I flinched, closing my eyes as if that could stop up my ears.

The Exalted all stepped forward at once. I hoped they couldn’t see how badly I was sweating under this head-wrap.

Saboraak, if I get out of this, you will owe me so big! I felt a twang in my heart at her name. Please be okay, Saboraak!

Together, the Exalted spoke in unison. “Let it begin.”

Chapter Nine

ON EITHER SIDE OF APEQ, the Exalted stepped forward in pairs. It was strange to see such well-dressed people marching almost like soldiers, their faces as straight as their backs. They lifted Apeq off his feet, carrying him in the basket of their arms while he raised his arms above his head like a hero. They marched at a steady pace toward the Ko’tor’kaen.

I gritted my teeth as another set of the Exalted marched toward me. Those blank faces could make a stone nervous. Hopefully, they wouldn’t feel the daggers sticking out of my boots or the waist of my loose pants. I hadn’t tucked any in my sleeves. I was guessing that they’d want to see those Ko and if I had to expose them, then the arm sheaths would be exposed, too. They were tucked neatly in the small bundle that Zin carried.

The Exalted linked arms and scooped me up without so much as a word or a request for permission. I grunted, feeling strangely like a pig going to the butchers.

I glanced toward Zin, over the heads of the crowd. Had she seen the humiliating way I was being carried?

She and Zyla were huddled together, but every now and then Zyla’s eyes turned to me and the look in them was unreadable. Well, now she knew I wasn’t Bataar. Hopefully, she’d survive the disappointment. I tried not to let my own disappointment affect me. There’s nothing like being kissed by a girl only to find out she prefers someone else.

Girls. They were the worst. Worse even than magic ceremonies and weird, chanting crowds.

Those two girls had better get through this safe or I’d ... I’d ... I’d tell them how disappointed I was, that’s what!

The hands beneath me shifted as the men and women carrying me stepped onto the bridge arm leading to the platform – the Seat of Judgment. They couldn’t have done this anywhere else? Like maybe inside a warm building?

I could feel sweat beading along my hairline despite the cold. But I needed to let them go through with it. Anything else would put those girls at risk and break my promise to Saboraak.

Alright, platform. Do your worst.

I wondered, suddenly, what had happened to my spider when the other Ko’tor’kaen snatched it away. Maybe it belonged to one of the Exalted Houses now – or maybe it was still there, stuck to the apex of the arches as if by magic.

I felt – oddly – as if I had done this before. Was it really so different from when I had run out onto a platform just like this fleeing Shabren only days ago? Really so different from when I leapt from that platform into the air below? Well, this time I didn’t dare do that again. There would be no dragon friend to make my gamble pay off.

Apeq arrived at the center first and I gaped as they pushed him against one of the intersecting arches and manacled his wrists and ankles to the arch so that he was suspended in the air looking over the Ko’tor’kaen platform.

Skies and stars! If they thought – !

But it was too late. The Exalted carrying me were already pushing me up against another arm of the arches, facing Apeq across the gap. I hadn’t signed up for this!

I struggled against them, but too many hands held me in place. My breath burst out in puffs of steam and frustration like a small dragon. Four of them to one of me. Eight strong hands to my one will. I lost so quickly that fighting at all was a waste of time.

They manacled me to the arch, shoving my sleeves down so that the Ko tattooed on them gleamed in the moonlight. And I was left hanging from the arm of the arch like a fool, my forearms freezing in the cold mountain air.

On the walkway off to the side of us, the spectators gasped at my gleaming Ko.

Across from me, Apeq’s arms were also bare, Ko in the pattern of leaping flames shimmering across his skin.

So.

He did have them. Whatever that meant in this time, at this place, we were equally matched.

I swallowed and looked across at him, meeting his gaze, clenching my jaw at his knowing smile. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t possibly realize that I was taking Bataar’s place.

Something whooshed overhead and I strained to look above me. That couldn’t have been a dragon, could it? Maybe one of Saboraak’s doomed friends had stayed to try to save her. Maybe –

My words caught in my throat as I realized that the shadow I saw above me was certainly no dragon.

I squinted, trying to get a better look at its silhouette as it flew across the light of the rising moon.

On the arms of the platform, a person stood on each bridge, arms raised.

“We dedicate these two Ko-bearers to the testing. Test them, Ko’tor’kaen! Sift them and judge which of these two should rule us!” the Exalted of House Tanagers said.

She was standing on the bridge between the Ko’tor’kaen and the boardwalks. All the Exalted had moved off the platform as if to keep it clear for the test.

What a terrible way to choose a ruler – just ask an inanimate object what it thinks. If I were building a culture, this isn’t how I’d do it.

“Tell us,” the Exalted of House Ye’kut intoned. “Which of them has the purest heart!”

Well, that wouldn’t be me. Although I was up against Apeq, so it might be a toss-up.

“Tell us,” the Exalted of House Gamni said. “Which has the courage of a crag cat!”

That might be me. I was definitely more courageous than Apeq who hid behind kidnapped victims and had servants do his bidding.

I looked out across the crowd and froze. Was that Karema in the crowd? I saw her tight movements and stern face angling through the crowd purposefully. She was edging closer to Zin and Zyla. Did she see them? Skies and stars, don’t let her see them!

“Tell us,” the first woman spoke again. “Which man is honorable and will keep his promises.”

Yeah, well no one had ever accused me of being honorable. Maybe Bataar should have been here for this test. As much as he irritated me, he was an honorable sort.

Karema and Shabren locked eyes in the crowd and my belly swirled like it was being mixed with a spoon. What were they planning? How had they crept into the high society of Ko’Koren to plan it?

I needed to get down from this thing and back to Zin before they made a move against her.

The three intoning Exalted spoke in unison as the crowd watched with rapt attention: “Tell us which of these will lead us to glory for Ko’Torenth!”

Well, that sure as Skies and Stars wouldn’t be me. If only they’d just get on with it, so I could fail their test and get the girls out of here. But I was supposed to want to succeed, right? To want to stop a war?

I looked up into the black sky as I wished for their safety, almost praying in my worry for them. If only I were a better man, the kind who could save girls and stop wars. The kind who could stand up here and be certain he’d win because he was just that kind of great guy.

Something in the sky was glowing red, a pinprick of light against a black infinity.

Chapter Ten

“BEGIN!” THE CHANTING people said together, and then in unison, the Exalted on the bridges grabbed the edges of the closest arches with both hands. I felt something pulsing and almost painful surround my wrists and ankles as the manacles tightened. Light filled the platform and shot up along the intersecting arches to halo the structure in crackling blue light.

I felt a moment of panic, my chest tightening and my breath growing quicker as something like a cold tentacle seemed to be writhing through the inside of me, like the arm of something searching and flipping through me looking for answers. I squirmed at the mental image.

Was it the arches? Were they reaching inside me to find answers to those questions the Exalted had asked?

And then I couldn’t hold a thought in place as my mind was suddenly overwhelmed by a thousand sensations.

I was Tor Winespring, living in Vanika, only my mother hadn’t died, and we lived together. I worked for the city guard and fought for Vanika when the Dusk Covenant attacked the city. I died saving a young mother and her child – a pair who lived on the streets just as I would have if my mother hadn’t found that job at the chandler and saved us both. I felt the pain and then the cold as the life leaked out of me and then I was gasping in the grasp of the tentacles again.

What was that? It had felt so real. Not like a story told me, but like I had actually lived a full lifetime in the blink of an eye. I could still feel the pain of dying in the attack, still feel the panic of not being able to save my guardsmen as they died around me. Was I this Tor hanging from a strange device or the other Tor living the life I’d so often wished I’d had?

I blinked against the confusion and pain of being ripped from one life into another and then back again. Across from me, Apeq’s eyes were wide and his mouth open. Maybe the life he was living wasn’t quite so nice.

I didn’t have time to feel sympathy – even if I was inclined to.

The tentacle gripped me harder, squeezing me into another life. I blinked as memories of things I’d never done, people I’d never known flooded through me. I was Tor Winespring, fabled Dragon Rider, but I wasn’t riding Saboraak. I’d never met Hubric, never been recruited by him. I’d gone to Dragon School on my own and survived the perils of training there. I’d chosen a red dragon – a gnarled, proud creature with a powerful set of jaws. We were fighting the Ko’Torenth invasion together on the northern border of the Dominion. I felt the pride of that, and the tempering of years of training. Deep affection soared through me for my dragon and my fellow Dragon Riders. And with it came a loyalty so deep, a commitment so strong to the health of the Dominion that it dwarfed any feelings I’d had in my past life. I’d had another life? Why did I think that?

“Steady, riders!” my captain shouted as we shivered in the bracing wind. “Wait for the signal.”

Before us, thousands of dark figures swarmed across the earth. Golems, I knew. Strange creatures of enchantment devised by the foreigners of Ko’Torenth. We were the last defense between them and our Dominion. I’d watched as they trampled a farmer’s field an hour ago. Watched them mow down fields of crops, a home, livestock, all with neither compassion nor cruelty, just the single-focus of a thing that neither was alive nor dead.

Flying golems swarmed over their creeping army, fish-like in shape, defying all understanding. We’d tried to puzzle out how they could fly at all. “Magic” was the only answer and it was not at all satisfying. Perhaps a Magika would understand better. For now, we need only beat them back.

The signal came, and we charged forward. Ieerkan – my glorious Red dragon – flamed confidently as wave upon wave of black creatures washed forward. We were holding our own, snatching the creeping creatures from the earth and dashing them to the ground – and then suddenly we weren’t. A flying golem soared past, it’s jaws opening to clamp down on Ieerkan’s wing.

He screamed in pain jerking under me so hard that I lost my grip on the saddle and reins, the world whirling beneath me. We were spinning through the air like a kite that hit a tree. My gaze sought for allies – for help of any kind, but there wasn’t a figure alive on the ground or in the air that wasn’t the black of the golems.

Across the landscape, golems rushed over the heaps and mounds of fallen dragons and riders. My breath gusted out as I drew my sword, ready to fight for Ieerkan.

I was still slashing and thrusting, ignoring my fears. I must not fail. The Dominion was counting on me. Dozens of flying creations swarmed us until all I saw was black figures and gaping mouths. And then the ripping began. First my leathers, then my skin, then my very life – ripped to a thousand pieces.

I gasped as the arches came back into view. The feeling of tentacles crawling through me seemed to choke the breath out of me. I could barely catch it anyway. I’d felt that death, felt the terrible disappointment of failure as I died, felt my dragon heave and gasp and die. I was shaken within. I was broken down. I could barely grasp that it hadn’t been real. That was impossible. If that wasn’t real, then what was real at all?

Across from me, Apeq was choking on his own horror, his mouth open and eyes shut as he gasped for air.

I turned to the side, meaning to be sick, when another vision took hold of me. I was married to Zin. I loved her dearly. Our home was a happy one of good smells and clean clothes and warm fires. We were raising children on a small farm, their little faces like tiny versions of hers, their huge eyes as golden as hers. And then the golems came in the night, snatching Zin and my children from me and shredding their fragile bodies.

This time I was sick. The veil that had shrouded me only making the mess worse.

I shook so hard that my wrists and ankles rattled in the loose manacles. I was still that Tor. And the Tor who died fighting golems. And the Tor who died defending his city. And this Tor who was almost certain to die right now. I was all of them and none of them.

The tentacles squeezed, and I watched Saboraak die in agony and then followed her into death, a black cough shaking me apart.

They squeezed again and I watched my mother live and die and live again. I was married to Zyla. I was married to Zin. I had children. I didn’t have children. I fought as a soldier. I died as a spy. I rotted in prison as a thief.

I tried not to remember the next vision, or the next, or the next. Each one a life that felt real as I lived it from beginning to end. Each one sparked by the tentacles.

I hated them. I wanted them out of my mind. I needed them out!

Out! Out! Get out!

And then a familiar voice sounded in my mind, like a bucket of spring water thrown over my head, like the sun dawning after the worst of nights.

Tor?

My eyes shot open and I coughed, gasping in a real breath for the first time in what felt like forever.

Tor? Are you okay?

Saboraak!

She was alive!

Chapter Eleven

I COULD STILL FEEL her thoughts echoing through me – still feel the way that they pushed the tentacles back.

I only have moments. Come to us. We are through the Door of Heavens.

Which one?

Any one. Hurry.

I could feel her slipping away and the tentacles clawing back when, at the same moment, Apeq began to scream. The Ko on his arms crinkled, shriveled and fell to the ground leaving angry red skin where they had been. Blood dripped from them to the floor below.

The manacles released him and with a cry, he fell to the ground.

I felt the manacles release me and my breath whooshed out as I fell to the stone platform, barely managing to get my arms and legs into position to land without injury. I hissed as one of my wrists sent a flare of pain up into my forearm. Maybe my position wasn’t all that good after all.

I glanced toward the crowd, but I’d lost my view of Zyla and Zin. Please be okay, girls! Please don’t do anything dumb. Because making yourself the center of attention during a succession war wasn’t dumb at all, right Tor? I was more a fool than anyone. I felt it even worse now that I knew who I could have been – what I could have been. I could have been a lot of things. And almost all of them were better than who I was.

But Saboraak was okay. I needed to remember that. And Hubric and Kyrowat would be fine if I could just get to them in time. And Zyla and Zin –

Rough hands gripped the front of my coat, wrenching me to my feet. I hung in their grip, dizzy and wobbly like a newly born kitten. I was new-born. Born again in this world. Born with a new understanding of what it meant to live.

The light flaring over the arches was gone.

“He is marked,” a voice called out loudly and I shivered.

Of course, I was marked. I’d never be the same. I was scarred by this for life.

Someone was tending Apeq’s arms, low whispers passing between the two of them as they bound the wounds on his arm.

I thought that, perhaps, I had won. It didn’t feel like a win. Not with the crowd silent. Not with the leaders whispering so furiously with Apeq. There was a tension in every face. Their eyes lingered on me like they couldn’t look away, but there wasn’t a happy face in the crowd. There wasn’t a single cheer or salute.

The man who had pulled me to my feet pulled the veil from my face and head, tossing it aside. Relief filled me as the vomit-soaked scarf left my face, but it was quickly replaced by nervous fear.

They were not supposed to see my face.

There was a sound around us of indrawn breath and a low laugh from where Apeq stood shakily on his side of the platform.

Uh oh.

His grin, as his gaze shifted to me, was malevolent.

“It is with deep sadness,” he said as he turned to the people, his voice as loud as he could project it. “That I proclaim my opponent to be an imposter.”

Murmurs rose in the crowd like bubbles in a swamp.

“He is not Bataar Bayanen, son of Mynaar, son of Lataar, Chief of the Stone Basin Kav’ai as he claimed. Our ancestors may have marked him, but they did not know who they were marking. They did not know he was a false claimant.”

The murmurs grew louder.

“And since he is false, his marks are false.”

The murmurs sounded like agreement. I tensed. They were definitely agreement. All eyes had turned to Apeq.

“I appeal to the Exalted Houses,” Apeq said, hands flung open, droplets of blood scattering across the skim of drifting snow on the stone platform. “Judge for us what the Seat could not because of this deception! Will you follow this imposter, or will you follow me? Will you be fools mocked by his trickery, or choose to punish him for it? I will lead you to victory and glory. He can offer you nothing but empty lies. Choose today who you will follow.”

Was he kidding?

“You can’t be serious,” I said, loudly. “The Ko peeled from your arms like it was shrinking from your lies. Whatever happened here, it doesn’t give you the right to take over this country!”

Apeq laughed. “I am Apeq A’kona of the House of Flames. I need no Ko to lead my house. I certainly do not need your fakery. Tell me, boy, how have you manufactured your marks? We know they are not real.”

What was he talking about? The Ko were still on my arms. They hadn’t changed at all.

I looked down at them.

“Not the marks on your arms. The marks on your face,” Apeq said, a look of disdain on his face.

I gasped. My face? It had marked my face? Well, that was just great. Thank you for that, arches. Just when I thought they couldn’t violate me anymore, they found one more way to do it!

There was a hushing sound as the elders raised their hands from around the Ko’tor’kaen. Above us, something whooshed on the sky. I looked up to see two silhouettes swoop past the moon, crossing each other’s paths. What was up there?

Those were not dragons.

The Exalted Houses spoke as one, their hands still raised.

“The Seat of Judgment has spoken.

I sagged with relief. I would live to fight another day. I saw Zin in the crowd, slipping forward through the still figures, moving toward the arm-like bridges as if she was planning to come to me. Hold on, Zin! I’d be free soon. They were granting me freedom.

The Exalted looked at each other, as if conferring by looks alone and then one of them spoke loudly so that it was all could hear.

“When the time has come, and the shadows grow long, you will know it.

When the tanager cries for change and the flame responds, you will sit.

Together you will decide the fate of your children and grandchildren.

But have a care. Smoke lies in wait for the fates of men.

Do not be blinded. Do not be deceived,” she paused from her chant and then spoke clearly. “These are the words of Ver’ko, the Wise One from the time when we dwelled on flat ground. The boy bears the smoke Ko. I will respect her words. I will not be blinded.”

“House Tanager will not be deceived,” one of the Tanager Exalted called out. “No false crown will blind our eyes.”

Uh oh. The votes were against me. Tanager motioned and a pair of guards with drawn swords crossed the bridge and trotted to my side, holding their sword points under my chin. I raised my hands in surrender. No point giving them an excuse to slit my throat. They looked twitchy and one false move could spell my death. I would have backed up, but there was nowhere to go. Behind me was nothing but a drop off the edge of the platform.

“House Ye’kut has also not been deceived. But he may live and lead us yet.”

That was more promising. The sword points lowered slightly, still threatening, but not as likely to suddenly give me that close shave I’d been dying to try.

The Exalted who had quoted her Wise One smiled. “Yes. With a leap of faith.”

Sure. I could have faith. I could work with that.

The guards smiled. That couldn’t be good. They stepped forward and I took a wobbling step back, my heel hitting the rim of the platform.

“If you wish to live, you must prove you are chosen by the ancestors, imposter! Leap from this platform and if you live, we will spare you.”

Sure. Like I’d do that. I could see how that was a foolproof plan for them. They got rid of me one way or another.

The shape darted across the moon again, this time taking longer to cross the silver light. I looked up at it, swallowing. If only it were a dragon. If only it was there to catch me when I fell – but the only dragon who would do that was Saboraak, and she was stuck somehow behind the doorway.

“But before that, we must have your promise, House A’kona,” the Exalted woman said. “Do you have the strength to defend us? Will you be able to lead this land in power?”

At least no one was forcing me to leap off the platform. Not yet, at least.

“I had planned to wait to reveal to you what I have accomplished,” Apeq’s voice boomed. “But now seems to be the perfect time to call my allies forward.”

He motioned and Shabren and Karema pushed through the guards at the end of the bridges. I gasped as they cleared the crowd and came into view.

Karema pushed Zyla in front of her and judging by the tight look on Zyla’s face, she was being held somehow by the other woman. I tried to look for Zin, but the guards shoved their sword points closer to my exposed neck. This time, I didn’t dare swallow. I almost didn’t dare to breathe.

It wasn’t until Karema stepped off the bridge with Zyla and moved to stand beside Apeq that I realized why Shabren was grinning so widely. He had Zin by the scruff of her neck in one powerful hand and the tiny book of prophecies in the other.

Chapter Twelve

“THESE MAGIKAS,” APEQ said proudly, “have brought us three things of value. And thanks to their help, we now have the resources that we need to overrun our enemies to the south and finally claim their dragons as our own. With the dragons to fuel the magical devices I am building, we will be a nation unparalleled in strength.”

“A strong claim,” the Exalted of House Ye’kut said, “but it is only a claim. Why should we choose you over the boy marked by our ancestors and the Seat of Judgment? What are these other two advantages?”

“I welcome your critique, House Ye’kut,” Apeq said with an oily smile. “I welcome it because it is easy to answer. The Magikas bring with them a strange tool.”

Apeq motioned to Shabren who reached into his pocket and threw a handful of grey dirt across the floor.

“We have our own dirt,” Ye’kut said dryly.

“This comes from the Kav’ai. They have been holding out on us. But these Magikas found a cave in which they were storing this, close to our southern border.”

There had been strange grey dirt in barrels at Shabren’s camp. I remembered that now. They had been in the tent Bataar had lit on fire to provide a distraction. Grey dirt, lambswool, and long tubes.

Apeq held out a hand to a nearby guard who was holding a lantern. “If I may?”

The guard passed him the lantern and Apeq reached into his pocket, extracted a long splinter, lit it in the lantern and then threw it onto the line of grey dirt. Fire flared up along the line.

“Dragon fire!” someone gasped.

I looked up from the fire to see Zyla twisting in Karema’s grip to look at me. She met my gaze and then looked pointedly behind me. If she thought I was going to jump with no dragon to catch me, she could think again. I could feel wind behind me like one of those creatures had passed close by. Perhaps she didn’t realize it was no dragon.

Ye’kut crossed his arms. “I can see the potential. What about the third advantage?”

Apeq gestured grandly at Zyla and Zin. “I have in my possession the daughters of Arvid the Artificer.”

The sudden surprise on a dozen faces of the Exalted made my eyes narrow. They knew Zyla and Zin’s parents?

“He and his family died in an accident,” one of the Exalted said. “His secrets are buried with him – wherever that grave may be.”

Apeq laughed. “His daughters still know them. And they will help me to craft weapons from this grey dirt like you have never seen. Weapons that do not rely on magic. Weapons to rival the fire of dragons.”

Now there was a stillness over the audience.

“All this you could do without claiming to rule over us,” Ye’kut said calmly. “All this we could do without you.”

“But not this.” Apeq snapped his finger and something roared behind me. I spun to see one of the dark shapes coming right for me.

Sweat broke out across my entire body. I’d seen this creature coming for me before – but not in this world! – in the world the Seat of Judgment had shown me. It was these creatures I’d faced in battle with my trusty Red dragon. It was these creatures who had slaughtered us with their snapping bites and their massive jaws. These creatures who defied all common sense in being able to fly at all. Imagine the magic you’d have to harness to make that happen? But would it be harder than making a carpet fly?

It was hard to say. I knew nothing of magic. If I had my way, it would all die out from the earth. It caused nothing but trouble, hubris, and pain.

The creature had more head than body, no proper legs at all. Its massive snapping mouth and the saddle carved in the metal of the creature that stood out prominently on its neck reminded me of the wolf-golems. It was made to be ridden and made to kill and not much else. Those bright red eyes glowed in the dark of the night.

I shuddered from the memories of hundreds of creations just like that tearing into my friends, tearing into my dragon, tearing into me. The idea of battling one of those things on the back of Saboraak was nerve-wracking. Who would dare to ride something like that? It would be worse than riding the golem wolf. There would be no way to make it land and no guarantee that you could slide off and run clear before it shredded you to pieces.

The creature dodged at the last moment, almost brushing the arches with its slick metal belly. It was made of segmented metal pieces that gave it an almost snake-like or fish-like movement. Gasps and shrieks filled the air as it darted over our heads and took again to the sky. Even the guards on either side of me licked their lips, the ends of their weapons quavering.

“I promised you golems, Ye’kut,” Apeq declared, projecting his voice for all to hear. “And you thought I meant shambling clay. I present to you my dragon golems. There are only a handful now, but in days I will have a dozen more. In weeks, I could have an army of them.”

If a Dragon Rider’s soul was used to make one of those fire sticks, what sort of a soul would be used to create a golem like that? I shivered as the answer came to me, but it wasn’t fear that rose up in my belly as it reverberated through my head and settled into my spine, into my fists, into my clenched jaw and rigid belly.

It was fury.

Because there was only one kind of soul that could make a faux dragon. There was only one kind of soul he could have stolen again and again – that he planned to steal again from Kyrowat and my Saboraak and all the dragons she had freed – the soul of a free dragon.

My hands were shaking and my head was light when the golem dragons spun around again to pass, this time sweeping level with the platform.

“Are you with me?” Apeq demanded.

The golems had been so close when they passed that time that I almost felt them brush against the backs of my legs. Being stuck between whizzing metal dragons and two sword blades was worse than any ‘rock and hard place’ you could imagine.

I clenched and unclenched my hands. I’d heard Apeq’s plan. I’d seen the people’s reactions and I knew one thing for sure: I was in trouble.

Worse, all my allies were in trouble, too, and they all needed me to save them. It was time to stop standing around hoping for some luck. A man had to make his own luck most of the time – usually hobbled together out of broken dreams, misconception and a whole lot of gumption.

I clenched my jaw and waited.

The dragon golems were circling again. I followed them with my eyes as the Exalted replied in unison to Apeq’s demand. They were making one of their ridiculous hand signs again. Did they spend their spare afternoons inventing those?

“We are with you!” they yelled together.

As if a dam had burst, the people began to cheer – first just one or two calls, then building to a raging storm of praise.

“The House of Flame!”

“Apeq A’kona!”

“Victory for Ko’Torenth!”

“Glory to the House of Flame!”

Some people would cheer for just about anything. Even their own doom.

They might even cheer for what was about to happen next.

I tensed, bracing myself as the dragons finished their loop, they were moments from drawing level with us again. I sucked in a deep breath, spun in place like a top, trying to avoid the brush of the sword tips of the startled guards. I crouched.

As the dragon golems passed again – this time a little below the platform I launched myself through the air, leaping onto the back of the nearest one, my hands grasping for the saddle pommel.

Chapter Thirteen

I DIDN’T LET OUT THAT huge breath until my hands gripped the pommel securely and my leg found a metal stirrup ridge, the other leg kicking over the wide metal back to land me securely in the saddle.

I was insane. Clearly.

The dark metal of the golem’s body rippled under me as it darted upward. It felt strange – the rhythm wrong and not at all like the steady thrum of dragon wings or the long soars where we caught the drafts and hung in the air for a moment like the wind was embracing us. No, this was more like the way a fish swam in darting bursts, it’s tail swishing powerfully through the water. There was also something not right about it. As if I could feel in my bones that it was made of magic and death instead of flesh and life. It made my skin creep.

No time to dwell too deeply on that. Now, I needed a plan beyond just ‘what if I jumped on that thing?’ Below me, the crowd was yelling, hands pointing in the air. I thought I could hear Apeq bellowing over the rest.

Ha! At least I’d surprised him. If I died now, at least he’d had his big moment spoiled by a kid on a golem. I grabbed the pommel and looked down at the platform below. In the middle of the chaos was a small puddle of stillness where Zin – ignored by her captors in the chaos – stood perfectly still, looking up at me with wide golden eyes.

I couldn’t just fly away and leave her. Not even if I knew how. They would imprison her again. They’d said the girls were valuable for what they knew – and that was probably why Apeq had been wooing Zyla – but Vern Redgers had already told me that Zin was expendable to them. Her mind – clearly damaged by what had happened to her – was too broken to be used. They saw no value in her.

I did.

I remembered seeing a painted glass once – a lantern cover for some Castelan somewhere. A tiny flower had been painted on the glass in three simple strokes. A flower, opening to the sun and tossed by the wind, its delicate petals soft to the touch – rendered perfectly in three little white lines. That was Zin. She was as deep and rich as anyone, just painted in simple brush strokes.

And I wouldn’t leave her here. Not when she’d had faith in me to save her. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t anything like that. It was just ... I didn’t think a person could have good glowing in them at all if they didn’t feel soft toward her. I needed to get this golem spun around so we could swoop overhead and scoop her up.

Now, how did I steer? There were no reins, and this creation clearly had a mind of its own, but ahead of the pommel were a pair of shafts the length of my hand sticking up from the spine of the golem. Perhaps, they controlled it somehow.

I gritted my teeth and reached for them. This could end very badly.

Gripping them in my fists, I gently eased one forward. We dove sharply, and I tried to correct, shooting back in the saddle and barely keeping my seat at all as the golem rocked backward again. That was close. I leveled off again, trying the other lever. A small movement from me and we swung right, another and we swung left. If I was going to steer with these, I would need to learn to be more subtle.

We were swinging around to the platform again and I tried to tweak the levers to get the golem lined up better.

There was Zin in the crowd. She reached out for me and I leaned forward. I would be close. We might manage it! I was counting the seconds, waiting for the chance. I reached one hand out, the other gripping the pommel as I soared over the platform just a hand’s breadth above the heads of those below. We were drifting lower yet and guards and Exalted threw themselves to the floor or out of our paths.

Zin stayed steady and true, her hand reaching out. A tiny smile on her lips. A steady look in her eye.

I reached for her hand as I passed, but just when we were about to touch, she was pulled back, her fingertips grazing mine, shoving a scrap of cloth into my hand. I looked past her in shock. Zyla was pulling her backward by the waist. A determined look filled Zyla’s eyes as she mouthed the word, “Go!”

Her eyes swirled with a tiny hint of silver.

I felt a chill rush through me as she pulled her sister further back, a determined look in her steely eye. What was she doing? She couldn’t possibly keep her sister safe on her own. Perhaps, she wasn’t even trying. Perhaps, she had changed allegiances. Perhaps, she had never been with me in the first place. She nodded her head firmly, looking past me, and I couldn’t tell if she was nodding to someone else or instructing me to look.

I turned in the saddle just in time to see Shabren flinging himself onto the back of the other flying golem, and then we were rocketing upward again and I was choking on the speeding air, trying to catch my breath. I felt like someone had punched me in the gut.

She’d betrayed me. Betrayed us all.

Ignoring Shabren, I worked the controls, trying to get the dragon spun around for another try. It fought my guidance – or perhaps I was just inept at directing the massive creation. We plunged down, pulling up at the last minute, rocketing too quickly to the right – and then we were aimed at the platform again.

I scanned it, looking for Zin. The platform and the boardwalks beyond it were chaos. People ran screaming in every direction, a mass of pushing bodies and flailing limbs. And somewhere in its depths, Zin and Zyla had disappeared.

An icy chill washed over me, but it didn’t reach my plunging heart. It was falling, falling, falling to a place it could never land.

I raked a hand through my hair, not knowing what to do next, when suddenly the golem shook under me and we were shoved forward. I grabbed the pommel with both hands, heart in my throat as we were hit a second time from behind.

I looked over my shoulder.

Shabren rode the other golem, a look of determination stretched across his face.

Well, I’d gambled on being able to ride this thing. Maybe I could fight with it, too. Shabren certainly was.

Chapter Fourteen

WHAT WORRIED ME MOST during the wild ride was the thought that Shabren might pull the magic back out of the golem I was riding at any moment and I would plunge to my death on the back of an empty shell of metal.

But what had my attention riveted more urgently were the fireballs.

The first one shot across the front of the golem, splashing his gaping mouth with burning magenta flame. The golem continued on, unfazed by the fire. I was the only one flinching at the assault, pulling at the levers wildly.

We careened to the side in a tail-swishing swipe and I felt the tail connect with something hard, jolting me in the saddle. I spun enough to see we’d flattened the top story of a building. Snow and roof tiles rained from the sky as we passed, and screams erupted from below.

Our flight took on a jerky motion over the walkway as I struggled to guide the golem.

I tucked the scrap of cloth Zin had passed me into my sleeve and fought the sticks for control. We plunged forward, the golem’s mouth opening to swipe at a hanging banner at the same moment that its belly slewed through a fleeing crowd, slipping through writhing bodies like a great fish through river weeds.

My heart was in my throat, my blood so hot that I didn’t feel the cold as we bounced off the walkway and careened through two yudazgoats and their cart. The cart flew off its rails, cartwheeling down the track to the level below, coal spilling from it like a black snowfall.

The golem bucked under me and I yanked hard on the controls, forcing us upward and nearly colliding with the belly of Shabren’s golem. I ducked as we passed under it, my golem’s tail clipping the other golem as we passed.

Shabren cursed violently, yelling as we passed, “This isn’t your magic boy, and it’s not your world! Go back where you came from and enjoy a few peaceful months before we invade!”

Yeah, that was likely. I’d just give up and wander off while they did what they wanted to Zin and Hubric and Kyrowat.

I wondered if Kyrowat could still hear me. I wondered if he could give me any hints about where he was.

It’s patched. There are canvasses hanging over one wall as if it was ripped apart by a giant.

A green fireball rocketed past, narrowly missing me but setting my cloak aflame. I beat at the fire as the green magic splashed across the front of a bakery. The bakery made a fump sound and burst into orange flame like a torch.

Unfortunately, patched and ruined buildings were becoming the norm in Ko’Koren – and a lot of that was tied to me. Where would I find one in so many?

I jammed the levers and spun the golem around moments before we collided with the fire. Wow! That worked! I should remember that maneuver.

I’d lost the girls. They could be anywhere in that chaotic crowd.

On the top level, the Exalted Houses and their guards had formed up in a disciplined manner after the initial chaos, but I wasn’t even sure what level Shabren and I were on now. We were darting and weaving up and down, left and right. I was just lucky I hadn’t completely crashed yet. That luck had better not run out!

I shoved the lever and we burst upward in time to avoid the green burst of flame Shabren sent at us.

I was getting better at up and down and left and right, but I was worried. I hadn’t seen anything yet that controlled speed. There wasn’t a button marked ‘press here to stop golem’ or even an arcane symbol or glowing dent. I had a bad feeling that I might live the rest of my life on the back of this golem and a worse feeling that my life might be measured in terrified minutes.

I swallowed down that worry, leaning low over the golem’s neck. We were dodging Shabren’s fireballs. He had all the initiative and I was stuck responding. No one could win like that. Time to turn the tables.

I flew straight toward him, head on, steering around the fireballs, but not letting up in my pursuit of the Magika who had started all of this. I didn’t have fireballs. I didn’t have magic.

What I did have was a big crazy golem underneath me, flying in improbable ways. And that could be a weapon. Especially if you aimed it right at someone and didn’t let up until you hit them.

We plunged forward toward Shabren, each second eating up the distance between us. Shabren’s expression was grim and he tried to dodge, but I shifted the levers, turning with him. We were so close to crashing. So close.

He let off a sudden fireball that smashed across my golem’s mouth, coating it with burning fire.

For an animate creature, it would have been fatal. With a magical creation made of metal, it was just a gaudy decoration. Come on, golem!

We plunged forward but suddenly something was wrong with the golem under me. It shuddered and dropped in the air, falling to the next level and the next. Something inside it was whining. It sounded a lot like me.

Something new hit us from behind and we cartwheeled to the other side of the mountain, scrambling for control, desperate to level off.

We were losing altitude. I could see the Jadefire House of Marvels as we passed it, falling. We’d reached the Eski peak in our crazed journey. I could see that square where the man with silver eyes had been torn apart.

We were still falling.

I looked up to right myself and saw Shabren following me, diving instead of falling, his eyes tight as he pushed into the breeze.

The man was mad. Anyone who chose to make a metal mockery of a dragon was mad and this one – this crazed human made of pure vengeance - was the worse of the bunch.

We plunged past the Bright Redemption and I shivered as I remembered the night I fell from there, through the ruined wall of the building.

The ruined wall that someone had covered with canvas and rope.

I gasped.

Chapter Fifteen

I HAD TO GIVE IT TO the Midnight Artificers – they were consistent. Where they stored one captive dragon, they could store another, right? It would be extremely hard to get a dragon into the depths beneath the Jadefire House of Marvels, but putting one in the massive storehouse beneath the Bright Redemption would be child’s play.

Now, if I could just get this contraption steered around. I tugged at the levers, fighting for control over the falling golem. Flying it was nothing like flying a living, breathing dragon with a will of its own. This thing was made by magic and ... wait.

It was made out a dragon’s soul, too –  if my theory was right. That meant that somewhere in there was a tiny, flickering piece of a real dragon.

I sawed the levers back and forth and shoved out my thoughts as hard as I could. If you can hear me in there, dragon, can you lend me some help? A little help?

Our fall slowed, and the dragon began to level off, circling in a jerky, rough manner. I swallowed hard, clenching my frozen fingers around the metal levers and biting my lip until I tasted blood as we slowly climbed upward.

I felt the first drop of rain a moment later. It was cold as ice but still liquid and it hit the back of my neck and slipped down my spine. I shivered, my core suddenly freezing cold. Other raindrops were falling around us, freezing as soon as they hit the golem or the boardwalks or anything inanimate. Rain like that in these freezing temperatures could be deadly – especially to someone who was already struggling to keep his seat on a metal golem.

We were swirling upward slowly, my tailbone smashing painfully against the metal back of the golem with every jostling bump as he struggled to climb.

Come on, dragon soul! I know you’re in there. There’s the heart of a grand, buoyant dragon in there somewhere!

It was probably just my imagination that he seemed to fly better when I thought those things. Probably – but maybe not. I’d better keep it up just in case.

We were almost level again with the Bright Redemption.

Just a little higher, dragon soul! A little higher!

The slick freezing rain coated every inch of the golem and my hands struggled with the levers. Fear shot through me like heated daggers. This whole situation was growing more precarious by the moment.

I didn’t dare take my hands off the levers to wipe the sweat dripping from my forehead onto my nose. Didn’t dare clear the rain from my eyes. I was holding on with every ounce of skill and strength that I had left.

A laugh sounded behind me.

Shabren.

“I can suck the magic right out of that golem, you know. I could have you falling to your death.”

I was sick of his taunts.

“Prove it, then!”

We were leveling with the Bright Redemption now. The canvas covered wall came steadily into view. How would we get in? This golem was too big to go through the bottom entrance. It wasn’t flexible or squeezable at all.

“Oh, I will,” Shabren said. “Now that we’ve tested the theory. Can the golems be flown by inexperienced, poorly educated soldiers? Yes, it seems they can. And now I have no need to test anymore. You’ve outlived your usefulness.”

I didn’t know how to urge the golem forward. I still hadn’t found a way to do that. I thought it as hard as I possibly could.

FORWARD!

We surged forward in a massive burst and then suddenly it was as if the golem had become nothing but dead metal, all life sucked out of it so that only momentum was carrying me through the air, through the thick canvas collapsing around me and slowing the momentum, across a floor with a metallic squeal and something thick catching at it on the ground and then a terrible crash as we hit a wall and I was thrown forward, padded only by the gathered canvas.

Ah. There you are. A dramatic arrival, as usual.

Kyrowat’s voice echoed through my mind.

Blackness danced before my eyes.

Chapter Sixteen

I LAY THERE LONG MOMENTS, trying to make sense of the world whirling around me. I was cold. I hurt. Black flecks danced across my vision.

There isn’t time for this. Kyrowat’s old voice growled in my mind. Get up.

I blinked at the black specks, sucking in a long breath. Agh! Something in my shoulder hurt if I breathed too hard. I pulled my legs in toward me and tried to get up on hands and knees. My left arm sent stabs of agony through me each time I moved it.

I pushed myself to my feet, unbuttoning one of the middle buttons of my coat with one hand and then putting the left arm into the open section of my coat like a make-shift sling.

I was soaking wet and woozy, chilled to the bone.

It will be worse if you don’t get moving.

I coughed, flinching from the pain it caused, and forced my blurry eyes to focus.

I was in the same basement warehouse of the Bright Redemption that I had been in just days ago with Saboraak. The portion of wall she had flamed apart when we were last there was missing. Canvas and ropes had been used to cover it, but they were gone now, tangled around my dead golem. Cold air and rain blasted in through the open wall.

The Door of Heavens stood in the same place it had been before, though the doorframe was scraped along one side as if something huge and metal had forced its way past it at a high speed – the golem.

My legs shook under me, but they seemed to support my weight. My head was still spinning, though. I reached up and pulled my hand back when I felt something sticky. Blood.

No time for that.

I stumbled forward, sweeping my head back and forth, trying to see where Kyrowat might be. There were feet sticking out from under the golem. A hand, too. A crumpled shape. Probably more bodies, if I was willing to look, but I wasn’t.

I leaned to the side and brought up the bread from yesterday.

Those people – I caused that. I drove that golem into this building. One of them might even be Hubric.

Hubric lives. And he may even continue to do so if you pull yourself together and get over here.

The warehouse was poorly lit, only a single flickering brazier giving any light at all.

We’re in the undamaged half of the room.

I remembered that half being locked.

I stumbled toward it, but the door was wide open. The shelves had all been removed along with the items being stored for the Bright Redemption. The floor – large as it was – was nevertheless covered by a dark heap – not Kyrowat, I hoped.

I hope you have a head injury. Otherwise, I will have to take insult.

No, it was a golem. A flying golem. But it slept, its eyes dim.

There was a crash behind me. I ignored it, stumbling forward. One thing at a time.

They must have been planning to animate this thing with Kyrowat’s soul.

Precisely.

Something wet splashed on the stone in front of my feet.

I looked up, barely suppressing a scream.

It’s only saliva. It’s hard not to drool when you’re hanging head-down.

Kyrowat dangled from the roof, his head just inches from mine. How had I not seen him there before?

You really must have a head injury.

I looked up, woozily into the darkness above. Kyrowat’s wings and feet were bound. Was that something else hanging high in the air?

Hubric.

I stumbled backward and ran a hand over my face. My face was sticky. I needed a bandage for the head wound. I reached into my sleeve for the slip of cloth Zin had passed to me. In the faint light, I could see writing on it.

Feel the rush and fly the run, and sound the warning cry.

It was that prophecy she’d been quoting. She must have written it down. The fabric looked like a scrap of her dress. Underneath the prophecy, she’d written:

Go and warn them. Go without me. - Zin

I couldn’t go without her.

Could we save your angst for another time? Maybe after you free me? Kyrowat asked acerbically.

I swallowed and looked up. If I had two working arms, I might be able to make the climb, but with one hurt – I thought it might be the collarbone – climbing was out of the question.

Just cut the ties holding my head down. I can flame off the other ropes.

Ties?

My head spun as I tried to peer through the dark.

One is tied to the cage wall.

I walked along the wall, letting my hand follow it so I didn’t stumble in the dark. My foot hit the cable first. It was a fat rope – half the thickness of my wrist. I drew one of my daggers and began to saw at it. Slowly, slowly, it began to unravel as I cut through one layer after another. It felt like an age before it snapped.

Two more. One is on the rock wall attached to a metal anchor about the height of your waist.

I stumbled to the next rope, sawing at it in turn. The rope after that was also attached to an anchor. Someone had prepared for this. Before I met Shabren and Apeq, I wouldn’t have thought it possible that anyone would prepare to hold a dragon hostage.

At last!

Kyrowat broke free, flaming down the length of his own body. Burned scraps of rope fell to the ground with a thump.

Move.

I stumbled out of the caged part of the room, trying not to trip over the mess I’d made in the other room. I turned to watch Kyrowat flame again and then deftly somersault to the ground before arching up and skillfully snapping the rope attached to the other dangling figure’s feet and carefully lowering him down to the ground.

It really was Hubric.

I stumbled back through the door, kneeling over the old man to cut his bonds. He was breathing, but his eyes were shut and one of them was purple and swollen.

“Tor?” I spun at the sound of my name.

Chapter Seventeen

I SPUN, MOVING TOO quickly for my spinning head and stumbling to one knee.

“Zin?”

Her voice was high-pitched as she was shoved forward into the room.

“Tor?”

Karema had her by the scruff of the neck and Zyla followed her into the room with a man I didn’t know. They both carried those deadly rods made from the souls of Dragon Riders.

I shuddered. “How – ?”

It wasn’t possible to get here so quickly.

“Do you think you know all the secrets of this city, boy? You are a nuisance, but one easily dealt with. We, on the other hand, have been planning this for years.”

“Through caverns underground, mining shafts, and carts on rails,” Zin said in a sing-song voice as if she were quoting a prophecy, but I thought that perhaps she was just answering my question.

“Enough talk,” Karema said.

“You have all done enough damage tonight. It ends now.”

There was a howling sound and then the screaming of metal as Shabren flew into the gaping hole in the side of the warehouse, his golem much better controlled than mine had been. He dismounted easily when it came to a stop.

“The Master?” he asked Karema.

Her eyes narrowed. Interesting. She was suspicious of him, ally or not. I needed to find a way to leverage that. I needed to find a way to get us all out of here.

Think fast. I can’t flame in here without killing all of you humans. I’d rather avoid that.

Yes, please avoid that, Kyrowat. I almost rolled my eyes. This is why dragons had riders – if it were up to them, they would flame their way out of every problem.

That is why we are superior.

Shabren walked gingerly around my ruined golem and the dead men and women scattered under him.

“Our Master,” Karema said through clenched teeth, “commands us to control this situation. You shouldn’t have released the flyers. Now one is ruined, and the Exalted families are suspicious.”

Shabren shrugged. “They seemed happy enough to me when they were crowning him their ruler.”

“And six of my people are dead in this basement.”

“Unfortunate.”

I felt something tugging me. The doorway, no doubt. My head hurt and it was hard to keep my balance with my vision spinning so badly. There was some idea just on the edge of reach. Something about the doorway ...

Weren’t you supposed to go through it to help Saboraak?

How did he know that?

I listened in on her words.

Rude.

Yes. What of it?

“Get to your feet, boy,” Karema said tiredly. “If you obey, we won’t kill the girl right now.”

The girl? Shouldn’t she mean the girls?

Are your eyes pasted on?

I concentrated, forcing my eyes to focus and choked in my surprise, coughing and sputtering. Zyla, it seemed, was no captive.

She stood, arms crossed over her chest, beside Karema, but there was no rod threatening her. She was free. She barely glanced at her sister.

I tried to swallow, but it felt like something was stuck in my throat.

She really had betrayed us both. Not just me, but Zin, too. I hadn’t dared to believe it, but there was no denying this. As if on cue, the silver swirled in her eyes.

Shabren began to laugh, harshly. “Stand up, boy. Last chance to keep her alive.”

I stood shakily, stumbling slightly and shaking my head to clear it.

“I’d thought to make interesting items out of you and the old man, but I’m afraid I’ll have to reconsider,” Shabren said. “The entire city is watching now. They saw you fly from the Seat of Judgment to the Bright Redemption. They’ll all want to see what comes out of here next, and Apeq A’kona is in a precarious position.”

Karema sniffed at his words, but he ignored her, carrying on.

“And that means we can’t be seen to be doing anything strange. Which is a pity. I have yet to capture the soul of a purple dragon.”

Zyla, Karema and the man with them leaned forward as if hanging on his words.

“So,” Shabren said, “I’ll have to dispatch the dragon and you two riders. You knew you couldn’t leave this city alive. But why risk the girl? She can live her days out happily here ... with her sister.”

“No!” The word was wrenched out of me. Zyla recoiled from it as if I’d slapped her. Good! Traitors deserved what they got. That kiss ... she’d been using me. A kiss was a promise and she’d broken that promise. I ground my teeth.

“Tor – ” she said, taking a step forward, but I recoiled, stumbling back and into the arch of the Doorway. I needed to be careful. I could fall through with a misstep.

“Fool,” Karema hissed to Shabren. “You can’t kill them here. If you think getting rid of a live dragon will be hard, consider the difficulty of disposing of a dead one.”

I will flame them if they keep talking like that.

He could do what he wanted if he could just wait for me to get the girls free first – or at least Zin.

Shabren’s answering smile was so condescending that I almost wanted to hit him myself.

“There’s a reason that our Master sends me to deal with these things and not you, Karema. I know how to manage them correctly.”

“Yeah, Karema,” I muttered mockingly. Maybe if I could push her that extra inch, she would lose her temper and fight with him and forget about Zin.

“And what plan do you have, then, Shabren?” She spat.

I smiled. Good. She was getting mad. They were turning on each other.

I took a careful step forward, trying to look small and hurt. It wasn’t too hard to do. Every movement sent a jolting pain into my chest. That arm was going to be a problem.

“It would take too long to explain. Let’s just do it, shall we?” Shabren’s voice was tight, like Karema was getting on his last nerve.

“Besides,” I added, “You wouldn’t be able to understand it anyway.”

She gave me a death-look. She must know I was purposely provoking her. But it was still working.

“Boy,” Shabren said sharply. “Bring the old man here.”

“I’m afraid I’ve broken a wing,” I said breezily. “You’ll need to order some other dead-man-walking around.”

Shabren raised his hand and a bolt of red fire shot from a wristband and landed on the rock in front of my feet.

“Need I repeat myself?” He asked.

I swallowed and limped over to Hubric.

Can you move him without hurting him?

Ha! I couldn’t even move him without hurting me!

Then you may not move him.

If I don’t, then Zin will die.

What’s that to me?

Hubric will be mad. I think he feels responsible for these girls – or he did for Zyla and he would for Zin if he knows she’s alive.

Gently, Kyrowat leaned down and opened his mouth wide, scooping Hubric up delicately between teeth longer and sharper than knives. I shuddered. Dragons really had no sense of how terrifying that was for humans.

He doesn’t know. He’s unconscious.

Fair point. Okay, Kyro. Let’s see what we can do. Maybe we can snatch Zin, hop on your back and wing our way out of here.

Unlikely. Maybe you can take us through that doorway.

I didn’t even know where it went. It could be a classic case of out of the frying pan into the fire.

There’s a fire somewhere worse than our inevitable deaths?

Fair point.

We hobbled back to our place in front of the doorway.

“You brought the dragon,” Shabren said. He seemed pleased. “Excellent. Now watch, Karema. Maybe you can learn something about quelling dissent. You too, Zyla. If you’re going to be a Midnight Artificer, you’ll need someone better than Karema to handle your training.”

Okay, we were here, not far from Zin. Karema was as distracted as she ever would be. It was now or never. I tensed, ready to leap forward and grab Zin from Karema the moment I could.

“We’ve tested this door before. From one side, we can transport goods easily into Ko’Koren,” Shabren said. Karema rolled her eyes. She knew this better than he did. “But the other side is deadly. No person we have sent through there has ever come out again.” Shabren smiled. “Maybe you will prove to be exceptions.”

Karema tensed. “If you kill them that way, Shabren, then we won’t have proof for the Master. He’ll want proof if we lose such valuable assets.”

“Leave that to me,” Shabren said with narrowed eyes. “Place your hand on the smoke symbol, boy.”

“Or what?” I looked at Zin. Was it time to leap?

She nodded her head slightly and then looked at the smoke symbol. She wanted me to touch it? Why? Maybe I was misunderstanding.

But then, suddenly, she was speaking in a low chant, almost sing-song in the way it rolled from her tongue.

“When last they chance and roll the dice,

Bet all their lives on this device,”

I’d have to trust she knew something in this chant that I didn’t. After all, she was the one who had studied the prophecies.

“Then set their hearts on hope and pray,

That those who came here in their day,”

I reached back with my good hand and set it on the smoke symbol. The gate flared to life, sending a blast of white light through the room, blinding me with its sudden brightness.

Zin’s voice grew louder over the sound of rushing wind. “Judge true and spare their souls.

And from the heart of she who sees,”

There was a cut of cry in front of me. Not Zin! Don’t let it be Zin! I stumbled forward through the afterimages searing my sight.

Her voice continued to rise. She was almost yelling. “And from the mind of him who flees

Comes way to save and hero bold,

A way to conquer all the cold,”

I took another step forward, blinking away after images. Karema, reeling from some blow I hadn’t seen, lost her grip on Zin who fell forward. I sprinted the last two steps to her and caught her with my good arm before she could hit the ground. She was still chanting as if possessed.

“And stop bloodshed and the reign of fear.

And save all that you hold dear.”

A ball of green fire soared over my head.

“Stop!” Shabren bellowed.

“But do not dodge the turning knife,

The hand that chokes in moment of strife,” Zin said, her prophesying quieter now that I held her. I pulled her back toward the arches.

Come on! Kyrowat roared in my mind. We take our chances. That rod Karema has could kill us all in a heartbeat and I don’t plan on powering a machine with my life force.

I turned, pushing Zin before me as I rushed toward the Door of Heavens. Her chanting was lost in the chaos, though I could still hear her speaking.

Kyrowat dove through headfirst, Hubric in his teeth. His movement was so fast that he was there and then gone again in a moment.

“Stop!” Shabren yelled again and I risked a look behind me in time to see Zyla, gripping Karema’s rod, a look of hatred on her face. The rod flared and Karema crumpled silently, her face frozen in a silent, unreleased scream.

A magenta fireball arched through the air from Shabren’s hand, streaking so close to Zyla’s head that her hair sprouted in smoke.

I shoved Zin in front of me. One more step. Come on! She was looking behind me wildly, pointing at her sister as she chanted.

“But do not dodge the turning knife,

The hand that chokes in moment of strife

For that alone can save your life.”

I looked back over my shoulder in time to see Shabren knock the rod from Zyla’s hand. Her eyes met mine, desperation and fear filling them. I felt my heart harden. She’d betrayed us. Whatever happened now she’d brought down on herself.

But she’d fought for us at the last moment, hadn’t she? At her feet, Karema and the other Midnight Artificer both lay dead or dying.

Forget about her, Tor. She’s a traitor. She’ll sell you out again if she can, I told myself.

“In you go. I’ll be right behind you,” I said to Zin, pushing her gently through the door. In a moment we’d join Saboraak behind that door. In a moment all this would be behind us.

But if Saboraak were here, she would demand compassion. She wouldn’t be okay with leaving Zyla to her fate. I ground my teeth, spat out a curse, turned on my heel, and ran forward in time to see Zyla knocked from her feet by a bolt of lightning streaking from Shabren’s wristband.

Without considering what I was doing, I pulled one of my knives from its holster and threw it, quick as thought, at Shabren. It lodged in his upper arm.  He arched backward, yelling in pain. I was down to five. I took my opportunity.

Running forward to Zyla, I reached down and hauled her back to her feet with one hand. She was nearly as light as her sister. Pain seared through me at the effort, despite her small size. There was something really wrong with my arm and shoulder.

“Go!” I yelled, shoving her before me, fighting against the pain.

We were steps from the doorway. Our steps seemed to echo extra loud across my strained emotions. I willed speed into my legs, forced the screaming pain of my arm and chest from my mind, pushing hard with every muscle to cross those final steps.

Zyla disappeared through the door.

One more step, Tor!

Tor? Hurry! Please, hurry!

I could hear Saboraak’s voice in my head again! We were going to be okay!

Something hot and powerful hit me in the back, sweeping me off my feet and sending me careening through the doorway.

I was on fire.

I was a burning flame.

My vision went black.

Dragon Chameleon: World of Legends

Chapter One

I WAS ON FIRE. I WAS burning up. Everything hurt.

“Try putting the bracelet on him,” a quiet voice was saying. I had the sound of someone who had patiently said the same thing more than once.

“Maybe it should go on Hubric. He looks worse off.” That was definitely Zyla. Even in indecision, she sounded certain. She had a spirit that could cut through granite.

“Tor can open the door,” the other voice said. Zin by her deferential tone. I’d never noticed how much like her sister she sounded. Their tones were always so different, and her voice was slightly higher. “Maybe if he gets better, he can open it up again and get us out of here.”

“Or maybe it will kill him! You don’t know how they make these objects of power, Zin!” Zyla’s voice was a low growl until it broke at the end. “The things they do ...”

“Don’t I?” Zin’s voice sounded absent, but there was an edge to it. I could tell even with my eyes shut tight that she was shying away from the memory of the night when the two of us had almost been made into objects of power – our souls sucked out of us to be used for their magic.

Someone shoved a bracelet over my wrist and the burning pain vanished, eaten up by the magic of the healing bracelet. A second set of hands wrenched it off again, but those few seconds had been enough to heal the magic injury of whatever Shabren had done to me.

They needed me. My head felt so heavy and the pain throbbed hard behind my eyes, but I forced them open.

Above me was the strangest pattern, like a woven tapestry of green and brown ropes. Light trickled – green and gold – filtering through the gaps between the threads. I blinked and the threads grew clearer. I almost gasped aloud.

I was lying beneath an enormous tree. A tree so large that my vision was filled entirely by layers of branches and leaves, crossing each other, weaving one over the other, layer upon layer upon layer. And those were only the layers I could see. Above them, who knew how far this tree might stretch?

It could fill the world.

Along the branches, in an indiscernible pattern, small glowing lights like miniature suns glowed in bright orbs. Their colors varied. Some were purple, some white, some yellow, some blue. Perhaps there were more colors higher up. I felt drawn to them. Perhaps I should climb the tree and seize the orbs. The branches were thick enough. Some were thick as a man. Some looked as thick as a house.

I wasn’t thinking clearly. But it was hard to think clearly when your world was full of pain. It was nicer to sit and stare at a tree. I let my mind run along the branches, tracing their lines, not thinking of anything else at all.

“Maybe he can at least talk to Saboraak,” Zin insisted. “If he is healed enough to move.”

“We should pull him over there. Maybe he needs to be close to her.” Zyla’s face suddenly filled my view. “He seems to be awake.”

“We shouldn’t move him,” Zin was firm.

Zyla frowned. She was lovely when she was frowning. I had a vague memory of being married to her. I remembered three small children with impish grins, their chubby hands grabbing her skirts and tugging at her hair. Wait. No. That had just been a vision used by the Ko’tor’kaen to torture me. Or test me. Or both. I still liked the memory, though. I remembered that tough exterior melting at the right words from me and those firm, frowning lips softening to kiss me. A man could tolerate frowns if there were an equal number of kisses. But no ... wait ... there had been a reason not to trust her.

“Traitor,” I gasped.

Zyla’s face twisted angrily. “I’m no traitor you hay-haired fool. What do you think spies do? Announce themselves? Say, ‘I am here to learn your secrets and cause your downfall. Now, what are they?’ No. We go undercover. We get information. We spy!”

I coughed. Speaking hurt. “Silver eyes.”

That was my evidence. My proof that she was more than a spy. She had participated. It was only the participants – the people actually sucking the souls out of others – who got silver in their eyes and when it became too much, it burst out of them.

She shook her head. “What does that have to do with anything? To get information I had to go undercover. I had to be near them when they were – Hey!”

I sat up and grabbed her throat. It was small in my hand, but I pulled her down to the ground, down to my level. My shoulder and chest were screaming in pain. I’d certainly broken my collarbone. My back flared in pain, too, as if I had been burned, and that dull throbbing of concussion still filled my head. I shoved the pain aside, pulling her to where I could see her. No time for pain. But there was time for answers.

Zyla grabbed my wrist with both her hands. I wasn’t choking her. I was just making sure I had her attention.

“Your eyes are silver.” I coughed violently but kept my hold on her. It was hard to breathe.

Her expression was all courage and defiance. “They’re gold. Always have been. Though I could see why that might confuse you. I doubt you’ve ever had much of either.”

“With swirls of silver.” I coughed again. I didn’t have the strength to debate the details. “You were there when they killed someone. When they hung him up by the heels and drained his soul out of him.”

I gasped from the effort of so many words and Zyla’s face went white, her expression stiffening.

“It’s not easy to be a spy.”

I let her go, sagging against my good arm and gasping in pain. Zin rushed to my side, her gentle hands lifting my useless left arm and gently raising it to my lap. She slipped something over my wrist.

“You knew.” Rage filled me. While I had been saving Zyla’s sister, she had been assisting in the murder of innocents.

“I learned things, Tor. Things that will save our land.” Her bottom lip was trembling as she backed up. Her hands were trembling, too. “I couldn’t have stopped it, anyway. There were dozens of them and just one of me. What was I supposed to do?”

My eyes narrowed, and I leaned forward as I growled, “What I did!”

“What you did?” She scoffed, but her expression was sad, as if it hurt her to fight me. “Make a big useless dramatic display? Become the center of attention for an entire nation not just once but twice? You don’t know anything about what they are doing. You’re the worst spy I’ve ever heard of!”

“I know they’re making golems out of souls. An army of them to attack the Dominion!”

She stood up so that she could look down on me as she spoke, her husky voice growing more bitter with every word. She vibrated with emotion – something deep and secret she was keeping hidden from me.

“Oh, good for you, Tor. You know they’re making an army? Amazing! Do you know their numbers? Do you have a list of their allies both in Ko’Torenth and the Dominion? Do you know how they are going to transport the army? When they will attack? What weapons they have and how they are producing them?”

“I know enough!” I said, forcing poison into my words. “I know who I can trust. You left your sister to be used.”

She recoiled like she’d been slapped.

“You left her to be made into a toy. And even when I gave you a second chance, you put her in danger again!”

Zyla had gone deadly still. “You know nothing. Nothing.”

“Why did you bring her to the Bright Redemption, Zyla? Why did you put her in danger again, when you came down to find me with Karema and that other man? Explain that! Explain why you thought it was okay to risk her life again after I’d rescued her! Explain why you didn’t run then with the precious information you’d gathered and your sister’s life! You had every reason to go and none to stay!”

She was shaking now, her mouth working and no words coming out, but she didn’t have to speak. I knew the truth. I knew that she was selfish. That she cared for nothing but herself – and maybe Bataar. I still remembered the looks she’d given me when she thought I was him. She was selfish and awful and the worst of humans.

It made me embarrassed to think that I’d liked kissing her. Embarrassed that my heart had raced at a glance from her. I wanted to spit the taste of her out of my mouth forever. But it lingered. Even now I could taste it again.

She got a hold of herself, but her face was red and her whole body trembled as she leaned down, captured my gaze, and in a voice rippling with violence said, “You. I went there to save you, you idiot!”

She didn’t wait for me to move or speak. I couldn’t do either, anyway.

Me? She came for me?

Zyla, the great spy, was saying she revealed herself to save me? Did I dare to trust that?

She spun on her heel and stormed away leaving me in a trembling, painful heap on the ground. I looked at Zin. Her eyes were wide, as tears streaked down her face.

I tried to be gentle. I knew it was easy to break Zin. I hadn’t planned to put her in danger again. I’d planned to protect her and keep her safe forever.

“Don’t cry. Please. It will be okay. I’ll take care of you.”

I must have said something wrong because my words just made her cry more.

Chapter Two

THE PAIN WAS EASING a little. I pushed myself to my feet with a moan, gripping the wrist of my left hand with my right to try to keep it steady.

Zin hurried to me and helped me gently ease my arm to rest in the buttoned front of my jacket.

“The bracelet will help,” she said softly. She looked down shyly and then pulled the book of prophecies out of her pocket. “I have your book.”

I took a long breath, trying to fill my lungs and manage the pain from breathing at the same time.

“You should keep it. Seriously. You understand it better than I do.”

“I memorized it.”

My eyes widened. “The whole thing?”

She blushed and looked away, but I didn’t take the book.

“Hold onto it for me, will you? I keep doing dangerous things. I’d hate to lose it.”

“You need it. And you might lose me.”

She was still looking away, but I needed her to look at me for this part.

“Zin.”

Still too shy to look.

I tried again. “Zin?”

Her sidelong glance was enough.

“I’m not going to lose you. I’m going to keep you safe.”

She lifted her chin bravely. “And I will keep you safe.”

I pointed to the bracelet on my injured arm. “See? You’re already doing it.”

She smiled tremulously, and I gently took the book from her, stuffing it into a pocket.

Okay. One fire put out.

Now, where were we?

We were standing on one of the massive roots of the tree I’d been lying under. The trunk was not far off – a wall of smooth wood encasing a rippling wood base. But tangled in the roots were dark lumps. Grass and colorful mushrooms sprouted up between the roots, but the crevices between them were few. There was no flat ground at all.

I turned in a slow circle. The roots went as far as I could see in every direction, tangled over each other and around the lumps, layered one over the other like the weaving of a basket.

I did not see the Door of Heavens anywhere.

To one side, Kyrowat hunched over a sprawling Hubric.

“Where is the doorway?” I asked Zin.

“This is all there is.”

“But you said I could open it if I was healed.”

She looked at me with her huge trusting eyes. “Can you find it, too?”

That was bad. There was no way out of this place – whatever it was – without a door. Not an easy one, anyway. The other doors had all taken us directly from one place to another. And it was possible that the doorway had also done that, but there was something strange about this place. Something otherworldly.

Zin almost seemed to belong here. She settled easily onto any root nearby, plucking tiny flowers from the grass between the roots and idly weaving them into chains.

I walked slowly to Kyrowat and Hubric. It was hard work. Every step jarred my collarbone, sending shooting pains through me. Oddly, my back was feeling better. Whatever damage Shabren’s magic had done was easing. My head felt clearer than it had in hours. Although that might be the air.

There was something about the air here that cleared the head.

“Can you help me?” I asked Zin as we reached Hubric. I pointed to my thick cloak and she helped me remove it and lay it over the old man.

He didn’t look good. He was breathing but he was pale and sweaty. Kyrowat and I would have to go for help.

Not a chance.

Not even to save Hubric?

I’m helping him stay alive. I’m keeping his mind clear. I won’t leave this place.

“Zin?”

“Yes?” She looked worried as she looked from Hubric to me. Her chain of flowers hung innocently in her hands.

“I’m so thankful that you gave me Bataar’s bracelet, but I think I’ll be okay.”

“But your arm – ”

I cut her off, “Is a simple break, not a magical wound. The bracelet has already helped the magical wounds I had. Now, Hubric needs it. And he needs you. Will you stay here and help care for him?”

She nodded and I slipped the bracelet painfully from my wrist and gave her a reassuring smile as she settled down on a root beside the old man.

That was the best I could do for them. If they were near Kyrowat, he would flame anything really dangerous. And despite his cantankerousness, he wouldn’t leave Zin to be hurt.

Now, to figure out what needed doing next.

I should probably take care of Zyla, too, but I didn’t know where she was and I was still too angry and shocked to apologize – if I even wanted to apologize. I wasn’t sure about that yet. She was a traitor, after all, and I didn’t like the way my heart twisted when I looked at her.

Next task – my dragon was here somewhere, and I was going to find her.

Tor?

I gasped. It was as if she had heard me.

I did hear you.

Why did she sound so faint?

Come to me.

Where are you?

I scanned the area, but all I saw were roots tangled over one thing or another. I’d better move. Maybe I would see her out here somewhere. She’d better not be hanging by her feet from something or there would be people paying with their feet for any harm they’d done to her.

I climbed gingerly over a waist-high root and into a tangle of other roots. My collarbone hurt. I clenched my jaw hard at the pain and pushed on.

Over the next gnarled root, using smaller roots as steps and handholds. The pain with every climb left me breathless and gasping.

Still nothing.

Maybe I needed a better vantage point.

I struggled up a mound of smaller roots covering something heavy and hard. They were so interwoven that it was hard to see what they disguised at all. Not to worry. Once I got up there, I’d be able to look for Saboraak. She had to be here somewhere.

I stood painfully on the mound, scanning the roots all around me and gasping for a full breath, fighting at the steady shoots of stabbing pain that flashed in every direction from my broken bone.

Where could she be?

Saboraak? Any chance of a hint?

I was missing that old girl. I couldn’t wait to climb up on her back again and fly off into the sunset.

Well, you have half your wish.

Her mental voice was so faint that I could barely hear her. If only I could see her somehow.

Look down.

I looked down. There was nothing but roots and more roots and more roots and ... was that an eye?

Chapter Three

I LEAPT BACK IN SHOCK, grunting when my collarbone flared in pain again. Ugh. That was going to get old fast. How long did broken bones take to mend? I was surprised Saboraak wasn’t already chiding me for getting myself in this sort of situation.

Weak.

I looked around nervously. Whatever had tangled her in roots could come back at any moment and tangle the rest of us up, too. I should have brought that axe instead of just knives. It was going to take most of the day to cut her free with those.

Come closer.

How did I get closer than standing on her back?

Where I can see you.

I climbed down carefully. Now that I knew it was my dragon under these tangled roots, I didn’t dare be too rough.

Hang in there, old girl. I’ll get you free.

I was nearly down. I swung past her great eye and clambered to what was sort of ground level. It was hard to tell through all these roots. Even her mouth was wrapped tightly in roots. I should warn Kyrowat. Maybe she’d gone into the dragon sleep before they did this to her. I didn’t want the same thing to happen to him. Although he probably already knew. Dragons talked, right?

Closer.

I leaned in close to her eye and found a patch of dragon scale about the size of my palm free of the cloying roots. I pressed a cheek to hers. She felt cooler than usual. Usually pressing my cheek to her scales was anything from uncomfortably warm to burning hot. She was barely as warm as I was.

I fade. I spent my last strength calling to you in the world outside.

Outside what?

The arches.

Shouldn’t the arches just take us to somewhere else in the world?

Not the way you came in – or the way we did. I had meant to tell you before you went through them, but you came the right way on your own.

What was the right way?

There are two ways to go through the doors. One way is the way that the people of Ko’Torenth use them. That way serves as a direct gate from one to another. You’ve seen that before with me. They use them for many things – transporting large caravans or important dignitaries. As ways to move armies. Or to mine. Their mining is much quicker and more effective with such an efficient way to move the ore from the depths of the ground. Safer, too.

Okay. Well, we could have guessed all of that. But what about this other way?

It is a way that only Ko’Bearers may go.

Not really. She didn’t have Ko on her arms. Neither did the girls, nor Hubric, nor Kyrowat.

But you opened the Door of Heavens for them. You touched your symbol moments before you all went through.

Sure.

That told the door to open the other way. Only Ko Bearers may open the Door of Heavens that way – the real way.

How did she know all of this?

I learned it in Kav’ai with Bataar’s family. They tricked us and sent us through the door. It’s a long story. But to simplify: They are furious with Bataar for shirking his destiny and running away. They demanded that he fulfill his obligation to them immediately – and that started by entering the Door of Heavens the real way.

Okay. So that explained how we got in here. What about the dragons she went to save?

I failed. Her thoughts were thick with sorrow. I risked you, I trapped Bataar and I did it all to try to save them – and I failed.

I patted her cheek gently. Wasn’t she the one who told me compassion was worth it? That it made us something better than we were? Was she trying to say that her compassion had been a waste?

You learn.

I was full of surprises – even to myself. But now, I just needed to cut her free and we could find Bataar and a way out.

You can’t cut me free.

Watch me try.

No amount of your kind determination and commitment to me will do it. The tree is alive and so are its roots. You will not be able to free me. I was not able to flame them as they pinned me to the ground. I could not shred them with my teeth or my great strength.

I swallowed.

Well, that was a problem. But all problems could be solved given time and ingenuity. I’d just have to find a way. I was not going to leave my dragon to her fate.

See, now that’s what I love about you, Tor. You don’t know when you’re beaten.

I wasn’t beaten. I wasn’t going to be either.

There is a way. A way that you can save Zyla, Zin, Kyrowat, and Hubric.

They aren’t in danger. Except maybe Zyla and that might be from me.

They were given the same fate as me the moment they stepped through the door. Ko Bearers may bring friends or supporters with them – but those supporters share their successes ... and failures.

What did that mean? Was she saying that Bataar had failed somehow and that was why she was tied down like a pig to be roasted?

Nice imagery. Not at all terrifying.

Sorry.

And yet somewhat accurate. My life is, indeed, linked to Bataar’s. And he does not seem to be faring well.

I’d kill him when I found him. Endangering my dragon? Putting her in these roots? He’d have to answer to me for that!

You’ll have to forget about Bataar ... and about me.

Never.

The longer you spend in indecision, the harder they make the test.

I wasn’t indecisive. I knew exactly what I was going to do. I was going to free Saboraak, and get everyone out of this ... this ... whatever this was.

An alternate dimension perhaps. Or perhaps an afterlife. It is hard to say for sure. It’s guarded by souls of past Ko Bearers. And the sooner you find one and begin your test, the better off your friends will be.

But if I left her ... what if Bataar failed? What if she became more and more entangled here, more and more distant until there was nothing left of her? I didn’t dare leave her. It had been bad enough when she was off saving the helpless but now that I had her back I certainly wasn’t going anywhere! They’d have to kill me and stuff me like a taxidermy ridge-cat to drag me from her. They’d have to pose me in those branches to get me where they wanted me. And that was all there was to it.

Why were my eyes wet? It must be a trick of this place. Maybe the air was drier here. I scowled at my wet eyes.

Your tears are touching. I will take them with me as I fade.

“You will not fade! Do you hear me?”

There was no answer. She’d better not be fading!

Her eye closed.

“Saboraak? Do you hear me? No fading!”

I clenched my jaw at her lack of response and then on instinct I kissed her cold cheek and sighed.

I was going to do this test, wasn’t I? Because that was where Bataar was and clearly, he was failing out like the arrogant little foot-eater he was. He needed good old Tor to come remind him how bad things could get if he failed. Because if anything happened to Saboraak, I’d make him wish he was a taxidermy ridge-cat.

Oh yeah, he’d be wishing for that. Or for anything other than the thrashing I’d be giving him.

Chapter Four

I CLIMBED UP IN THE nearest thick root that wasn’t actually Saboraak and looked around. Somewhere, there was the soul of some dead man – if Saboraak was right about that – who wanted to test me. How did you find someone like that?

I scanned the area. There was the tree – of course. Above me, its branches spread like roads and paths with glowing lights along the way. Beneath, the roots fanned and tangled over dark lumps.

Wait. Lumps. Just like Saboraak.

Oh, sweet Stars and Skies! Those were the remains of supporters, weren’t they?

A chill rolled over me. I’d better hurry. Saboraak said speed was essential.

Past the outermost branches – so far in the distance that it was hard to see – there was a narrow opening between the thick branches above and tangled roots below. Was there anything out there that could help? I squinted, but all I saw were more trees like this one – huge and sprawling.

Well, if I couldn’t figure out where these dead guys were, maybe they could figure out where I was. If time was so important, I’d better get to work.

“Ho!” I shouted, looking up into the branches above. Didn’t ghosts float upward? Or was that just in stories? I tried to look bold and defiant like a real Ko Bearer would. “Hey, you dead Ko Bearers! Show yourselves! You want to test me? Bring your test!”

There was no response.

Of course. No one was going to make it easy for Tor Winespring, were they?

I sighed.

Well, one option down. Maybe Kyrowat would have a better idea.

I turned to find him again and almost ran headlong into a silent, still man.

Where did he come from? I was dodging backward before I remembered my collarbone. I froze in pain.

The man didn’t twitch. He was far too substantial to be a ghost. He was my height and weight, but older – Hubric’s age maybe – and he carried a large blade on a long staff-like haft. Feathers were tied under the blade in decoration or for rank – I didn’t know which.

It wasn’t cold here among the trees – which must be a relief for him since he wore an elaborate pair of loose trousers that reminded me of Bataar’s and not much else. They were brightly patterned and carefully folded around a wide orange belt at his waist. He looked tougher than Bataar, though. Those muscles were lean and taut as the fibers of a tree branch. Where Bataar was lean and pretty, this man was leathery and oaken like aged wood.

I moved carefully to step around him and with a single twitch, he blocked me with his blade. His face hadn’t so much as shifted.

Well, this was going to be fun. Hurry, Tor – oh, and just avoid the weird guy with the big weapon while you hurry.

No problem, test. Happy to serve.

It was possible that the pain in my collarbone was making me crankier than usual. I moved the arm slightly, testing it and immediately wished I hadn’t. Pain blossomed from it so suddenly that my head spun and I gasped.

Quick as a whip, the older man darted forward, his free hand reaching for me. I tried to throw up both hands to block his advance, but the movement in my arm shot so much pain through me that blackness slid over my vision for a moment and I reeled in pain, almost losing my footing.

This was not helping.

His hand clamped over my broken bone and I gasped at the agonizing shock of it.

And then the pain was gone.

“To be tested, you must start in the same way as the rest.”

Chapter Five

I LET HIS WORDS LINGER in the air a moment. I should say something that indicated I knew about this place, but I didn’t know that much. If I didn’t establish some level of understanding, though, he was going to end up pushing me around. That was how the world worked. You had seconds to position yourself as intelligent and capable when you met someone and if you failed, then you’d start at a disadvantage and never really pulled out of it.

“You’re a Ko Bearer,” I said, firmly. A firm voice was important. It signaled confidence which most people mistook for competence.

“I am Gautm of the Goat Water tribe of the Kav’ai.”

Goat Water? That sounded like the worst possible tribe.

Try respect. It will get you further.

I smiled slightly. She was back!

For now. Focus.

Weak or not, Saboraak was still able to chide me. I liked it.

“I am Tor Winespring of the Dominion Dragon Riders,” I said. Maybe an overreach – after all, no one ever gave me that title, but I did ride a dragon. When she wasn’t being held in place by roots.

And when I let you.

Sure, sure.

“You called us quickly, Ko Bearer. That is a thing of honor. Are you ready to stand test under this Tree of Life?”

“This tree?” I asked. “There are more?”

The man smiled, though there was no humor in his eyes. He spread a hand out indicating the horizon. “In this grove alone, there are more than two hundred Trees of Life. And this is not the only grove.”

“Then why this tree?” I asked. Maybe there was an advantage somewhere else, if I looked for it. “Why not a different tree?”

“This tree has chosen you. In this time, during this Age, this Tree will draw out the truth and offer life ... or death. If you and your supporters die here today, you will nourish this tree for the coming Age.”

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. He made it sound as if our deaths were as desirable to him as our lives.

I think they are.

Great. So, I was just walking fertilizer to him. I’d have to find a way to change his perspective on that.

“What do I have to do?” I asked.

“Follow,” he said, turning his back and beginning to walk without watching to see if I did or not. He reminded me of a frog in the way he walked and croaked out doom. I was never going to be able to shake that now that I’d seen him that way.

The green light around us was growing darker in tone as we walked – as if the sun were sinking behind the horizon somewhere – and as it grew darker, smells erupted from the ground beneath the roots. They leapt up in sparkly puffs, each scent different, and each scent evoking a memory for me.

I couldn’t have placed what scent it was, but one reminded me of a day I’d stolen a jammy tart. The gooey filling had been so good I’d licked up even the drips on the front of my shirt. Another reminded me of the day I met Saboraak, of the first time I heard her voice in my head. Another scent, of the feeling of drifting off to sleep after an energetic day.

One after another, they soothed me with pleasant memories. The Ko were starting to show on my arms, only slightly, as the moon – wherever it was – began to rise.

“Your companions will wait for you below,” Gautm of the Goat Water tribe said. He did not look back as he spoke. “Their hopes will feed your journey. Your success will be theirs. Your failures theirs also.”

“About that,” I said. “Couldn’t we just send them back? This isn’t their problem.”

He turned for just a moment, his froggy eyes narrowing. “Do you choose to break the code so soon?”

He was gripping the handle of that halberd awfully tight. Frog or not, he could gut me with one slash.

“No, of course not,” I said, and he relaxed his grip.  I scowled at the relaxed grip. So, that’s how it was. Do as we say or die. Well, I could work with that, even if I didn’t like it. “Lead on.”

You’re much more troublesome about it than Bataar was. He sat for a long time at the base of the tree before he agreed to follow them, but when he did, he obeyed without question.

Because he’s a good little boy.

He is good. But he doesn’t relish being good. Why do you think he waited here until the roots began to cover me and started to hold him in place before he began the climb?

Climb?

You must climb the tree.

Good thing I got over my fear of heights a long time ago. Since meeting Saboraak, my life had become almost entirely vertical.

“Does every Door of Heavens lead to a tree?” I asked the Ko Bearer.

He stopped for a moment as if surprised by my question before continuing at his steady pace. We were nearly at the trunk of the tree. It glowed faintly in the receding light.

“Of course,” he croaked. “What other point is there to the doors? Of course, in a time of great trouble, you could travel between them, but they were gifted by the Great Ones to mark their chosen ones with the Ko, to test the chosen ones with the Truth, to train the chosen ones with the Trial. That is why we are here – the guardians. We have given over an epoch of our time in the life-after to guard the ways of the Great Ones and test the chosen ones who come after.”

“Who were the Great Ones?”

He looked back at me again, shocked. “Things have gone very badly in the world of men if you do not know these things already!”

Apparently, there wasn’t going to be an explanation any time soon.

I suspect they were a group of humans from the past with great magical abilities. Somehow, they built this other world.

Gautm was leading me to a place along the tree trunk that had steps of fungus spiraling up the side. We were almost at the first step when a shadow stepped into the fading light from around the side of the trunk.

Zyla stood there quivering with pent-up emotion. “I demand to go up the tree and be tested.”

“Only the chosen may be trained in the Trial,” Gautm said as if by rote.

“I came through the door. It’s my right,” Zyla said, her face flushing.

“Only the chosen may be trained by the Trial.”

“What makes him chosen and not me?” she asked. Were those tears gleaming on her face?

“The chosen are marked by the Ko – set apart by fate for the roles they must play. Only they must face the Test. Only they must be trained by the Trial, but they may bring a cohort to support them in their trials.”

Gautm tried to step around her but she countered every move with a shift of her own, blocking our path.

“He doesn’t know enough to pass the Trials,” Zyla said. Her bottom lip quivering. “He doesn’t know the precepts, okay? I do. I’ll take the test for him.”

Was she kidding? I could do my own dirty work! But the look she shot me wasn’t contempt. It was fear. As if she was nervous about my fate.

“Only the chosen may be trained by the Trial.”

The sound she made of frustration mixed with desperation got to me. I didn’t like that her offer to take my place made me feel warm to her. I hated that. What right did she have to take my place? Or to want to? What right did she have to care about me when she hadn’t cared only yesterday.

I hated that she was crying. I hated that she wanted to do something for me. What did she want from me? I should know how to feel about her. I should know what to think about everything she’d done. But I didn’t. Could I trust her claim that she was trying to help me?

I felt too raw to trust.

I felt much too raw for the affection ... was it maybe even attraction? ... that I felt welling up in response to her bravery. It was this willingness to take this trial for me that drew me in, even though she insulted me by implying that I couldn’t do it myself.

“Just go away, Zyla,” I said. I felt tired from feeling too much. I just needed her gone. She was too confusing. “I’ve got this.”

“I just want to help,” her words were thick with tears. But anyone could cry. Anyone could mess everything up and stand silently while innocent people were killed and then cry afterward. That didn’t make her a friend. It didn’t make her trustworthy. It didn’t make her someone I wanted to be with. So why did I feel like crying, too?

“Let’s get on with this,” I growled.

Zyla seemed to shrink in on herself like a wilting flower. Good. Maybe that would simplify things.

Gautm took the opportunity to push past her, intoning, “All who come must not hesitate. For with every hesitation, disaster grows.”

That means hurry. When Bataar lingered, he lost some of his strength. I felt it happen to him.

I hurried after Gautm, but as I passed Zyla, our gazes met and something in her eyes stabbed deep into my heart.

“I just wanted to keep everyone safe,” she whispered.

Which is all I’d been trying to do, too.

“I just want you to be safe.” Her whisper was barely audible that time.

I tore my gaze from hers and followed Gautm up the fungi staircase to the warren of branches above.

Chapter Six

“THE PATH,” GAUTM SAID as we climbed, “Is different for each of the chosen. You will climb the tree branch by branch. Up, down, left or right, you will follow the path that reveals itself to you. Just as in life, each life is different, and each one must follow the path that is revealed to them.”

Sure. But it was easier to get somewhere if you knew where you were going.

“Where do I need to end up?” I asked.

“At the end.”

“Which is where?”

“At the end of your path.”

Yeah. That was so helpful. Thanks, guy. I never would have figured that out for myself.

I think that’s all he knows. He said the same thing to Bataar.

Which meant it was all he was willing to say, not that it was all that he knew.

“Any hints on which way to take?” I asked. Maybe if I asked the right way he’d have a different answer.

“Look for the lights. Each one is a new discovery. Meet it with the truth of the precepts and you will know your path.”

What if I didn’t know the precepts? That would make things more difficult, wouldn’t it?

Do you happen to know the precepts, Saboraak?

Saboraak?

“When you reach each light, you must taste it. What you do from there, will determine your course,” Gautm said.

Weird. Taste it? I hoped they tasted good. Now that he mentioned it, I was pretty hungry. But I was always hungry.

Gautum stepped off the fungi stairs onto a branch as wide as a dragon. The top of it was worn and flat - from many feet if I had to guess. At least it wouldn’t be difficult to walk on. I joined him on it, looking around.

From here, there was only one obvious path – down the length of this branch.

I swallowed as I looked from side to side and up into the tree. If I were to climb up and down the length of every branch of this tree, I could be here for weeks. There were hundreds upon hundreds of lights along each one, glowing in the descending dark.

And I didn’t know these precepts.

Good news.

I could use some of that.

Zyla says she knows the precepts. They are the beliefs of the Kav’ai – a kind of a catechism of sorts.

But could I trust her word on them?

You’re going to have to.

I hated the thought of being in debt to her.

I hate the thought of dying for no reason.

Fair enough.

Gautm placed a hand on my shoulder, turning me to look at him and then he took out a tiny flask from his belt.

“Along the way, if you succeed, you will find artifacts of those who went before you. Use these to help you and guide you. You may find many or none at all. You may keep some. Others will be whisked away before you can use them.” I nodded as he continued. “It would have been better for you not to be chosen. Better not to have come for the test. But you have come to the test and you will be tested. Succeed, and you will win the right to sacrifice yourself for your people. Fail, and you will remain here, mired in your own fears forever.”

Oh, awesome, I get to sacrifice myself for people I’ve never met. Yeah. I could see why they had people lining up for that amazing prize. Oh wait, I was the only sucker here. Me and Bataar. Two fools on a fool’s errand.

“Do you have anything to eat or drink?” I asked. One last stalling tactic. Though my stomach rumbled dramatically at my words.

“You will have no need of food or drink here,” Gautm said as if he hadn’t heard my rumbling belly. “This place is not in the physical world.”

And yet, I still felt hungry.

“Go now, Ko Bearer,” Gautm said moving his polearm weapon with what looked like a complicated salute. “Make us proud.”

I had a bad feeling that anything I did that made Gautm proud would be harmful to me. He’d probably watch with approval if I offered myself to have my soul drained out so my people could use me as an artifact. I didn’t trust this guy. No one who talked so glibly about testing or sacrifice was going to take care of you. Not that I needed taking care of. I just needed him not to stab me in the back while I did this.

“Oh, and a last word of advice,” he said with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Because I like you. Don’t hesitate. Don’t stop. Those who hesitate, lose. Those who stop, die.”

He liked me? He was giving me advice because he liked me? Because that advice wasn’t at all worrying.

Well, I’d never been a safe kind of guy, right? Time to put that to use.

Time to take the gamble.

Chapter Seven

OKAY, FIRST THINGS first, forget the old dead guy and walk down this branch.

Maybe don’t forget him entirely. He gave you good advice.

Fortunately, the branch was wide and fat and the bright lights in the distance lit the path enough to travel the route easily. I tried not to look at how many other branches there were around me or how many lights. If I thought too far ahead, I might let nerves consume me.

About that...

Why was Saboraak so chatty? I thought she was fading?

I think you gave me strength somehow. Perhaps when you entered the test you added to Bataar’s chances ... and therefore mine.

I could see the first light gleaming ahead of me. Okay, Tor. Here we go. Time to see how tough this test really is.

The first light was on a branch at waist height, a bright orange cherry-like orb with a translucent skin. It hung from the branch like an overripe fruit, heavy and full. The depths of the orb were swirling with something. Liquid? Light? It was hard to say for sure. It looked brighter than the fruit, with eye-aching sparkles of brighter light within.

But I was just steps away. I was going to have to taste it somehow. My palms were sweaty at the thought of it, but I couldn’t hesitate. That was one of the rules that I remembered.

That’s right. Hurry.

I drew up to the glowing fruit, the smell of citrus filling the air around me. Well, that wasn’t so bad. I seized the fruit in both hands. The skin was surprisingly firm.

“Follow the guidance of the first precept.”

I leapt at the sound of Gautm’s voice. He was standing right beside me. He could have given some kind of warning when we started. Like maybe, ‘Oh, and Tor, I might pop out from behind you later on. Don’t leap out of your skin.’

“But you ... did you follow me?”

“I am not bound by space here. The rules are different for the dead. It is my role to give you the guidance you need and then perhaps you shall survive the Trials. But there is not time to speak of this. I have other duties to attend. Follow the first precept.”

He was gone again as quick as blinking, leaving me rolling my eyes. I hated this place. It was clearly magical, and magic was the worst. It was worse than girls and dragons combined. It didn’t follow the rules that the rest of us were bound to. It didn’t have to.

But I still had to, and that seemed enormously unfair.

And now it was going to test me. The problem with all these tests was that I already knew what the results would be. I was a rogue and a knave. A man who would cheat, and steal, and beg just to have a quiet life away from trouble. Was that so bad? I wasn’t a glorious knight or hero, not a Castelan or Dominar. I was fine with that. Why did everyone else seem to expect more from me?

I looked down into the swirling light of the orb. For every moment I hesitated, it would count against my friends. But it would be easier not to hesitate if I had any idea what this precept was.

Zyla says she can help but only if you ask.

I wasn’t asking her for anything.

I could do this. After all, I couldn’t be the only one to step into this place without knowing the precepts. They were probably just common sense that anyone who was a good person could figure out. You know, the usual. Don’t kill. Don’t steal. Don’t give dirty looks to people more important than you...

I bit into the orb.

Taste flowed my mouth, searing the insides of my cheeks and tongue. It was hot and cold both at the same time, bitter and intensely sweet. I felt a shift in the air, as if the world had stuttered for a moment. My vision went double before it steadied. Strange.

I was still on the branch. Still standing there holding the fruit.

It was as if nothing had really happened.

Good thing I hadn’t hesitated. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad. Someone cleared their throat and I spun around to look, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The fruit had been juicy, though the skin didn’t even show the mark from my bite.

“Tor Winespring?” the voice was familiar, and the grin was saucier than I’d ever imagined. A pair of green eyes watched me, mischievous excitement dancing in them as the young man leaned casually against a branch as if he had all the time in the world, a hand running through his dark hair almost subconsciously. “Don’t you look like a fool right now.”

There were dots of orange on his shirt, as if he had just taken a bite out of an orange orb of fruit. Which, of course, he had.

Because he was me.

“What do you want?” I asked, letting just one of my eyebrows rise. I knew how to deal with this sort of riff-raff.

After all, this riff-raff was me.

“I’m here to help. Can’t you tell?” but his grin – the way he said it like he might be lying or might be telling the truth – well, it was more frustrating on the receiving end than it ever had been when I was the one offering the cheeky grin.

Whatever magic this was – and I had no doubt the man was only an illusion, magic being used against me! -  it could go back to where it came from.

“I don’t need you,” I said, turning back to my path down the branch.

“But you’re going to go through with the test?” he asked.

“Sure,” I muttered, pushing past the orange orb and hurrying down the branch. I didn’t see another orb along this branch, though light from the orbs on the other branches easily lit the way. I was going to need to hurry. If I was expected to bite more of these orbs, I’d have to find them. The next test – whatever it was – might not be so easy.

“You think I’m an easy test to face? That’s rich!” His words rolled together in a lazy drawl. I knew that act. I did that when I was trying to pretend that something very important wasn’t important. “Let me guess, you didn’t ask Zyla what the precepts were before you bit the fruit. That’s just like you, leaping where you should look, jumping where you should judge, diving where you should delve – ”

“Cute,” I mouthed back. “Do you have more of those little word plays? Save them up. Maybe a girl will look twice at you and you’ll finally have something to do with that quick tongue of yours.”

“You mean – ”

“I mean charming her,” I muttered. The branch had jogged suddenly to the left, leaving me in a tangle of brambles and jutting branches. I could just about see a way to climb up to the branch above. If I placed my hands just so ...

“It’s so like you to choose the difficult path. You always think it’s the easy path because it goes in a straight line. But if you were to stop and think, you’d realize that sometimes going in a straight line is hardest of all. The world doesn’t work like that,” my mirror image told me. Whatever he was, it was nothing important – only a magical trick that put my worst thoughts in a physical form. I should just ignore him.

“Oh sure, you could ignore me, but then you wouldn’t be listening to yourself and we both know that you’ve always found that listening to yourself works best. Or at least it’s the only thing you ever try. You aren’t much of one for advice, Tor.”

“I’d be happy to get some now,” I muttered. “From anyone other than you.”

“Ask the girl,” he said with raised eyebrows. He’d drawn one of my throwing knives and was idly cleaning his fingernails with it as I tried to climb through the brambles.

Saboraak? I asked in the privacy of my own mind. Can you help me out here? Bataar must have gone through at least the first challenge. You must know the precept.

He wasn’t clear in thinking of them directly. For the first few, he seemed to know how to conquer them almost by instinct.

That sounded like him. Bataar was the kind of guy with such a strict moral code that he wouldn’t even need to think to do what was right. I was going to need more help than that.

You could ask Zyla.

I wasn’t ready to ask her anything. She’d made her choices. Now, she could live with what the results were. And one of those results was my deep mistrust.

There! I’d finally climbed up to the branch above. Better yet, there was a glowing orb right here! Red and delectable, it shone with strength. Excellent.

I stepped toward it and Gautm appeared between me and the orb to the cynical laughter of the other Tor. That guy was really getting on my nerves.

“What part of the precept: ‘No man is a single oasis’ led you here, Tor Winespring?” he asked.

I felt a sinking sensation. Even I could figure that precept out.

I wasn’t supposed to do this without help. Whether that meant I was supposed to listen to the other Tor or to Zyla, I had failed.

Uh oh.

“You must live with the consequences of your choice,” Gautm said. “The mimic will remain with you in your Trials.”

The mimic? The other Tor laughed and I glanced at him. Oh. The mimic.

“And,” Gautm said, “your friends must pay a price, too. Hurry. Even now, the roots begin to bind them to this place.”

Skies and stars!

I’d failed the first test.

Chapter Eight

EVERYONE CAME TO WAIT beside me. I’m watching them as the roots come for them. It’s worse watching the first roots wrap around them than it was when the first root wrapped around me. You need to do better, Tor.

Of course, I needed to do better. What had anyone expected? That I would be good at a test of character? Ha!

I was so sick of always being tested. Why couldn’t I just be enough on my own without being tested first? And what did I care what this place or these dead people thought of me? I’d never claimed to be a hero. I just wanted my friends free and then I was going to walk away from all of this.

Because that is not how the world works. Trust is short. People don’t just hand it around. It must be earned. Do you know what will happen if you succeed at these Trials?

I’ll free you and Bataar and the others. It’s all I want.

The one who succeeds in this test receives a great inheritance and power that can be found nowhere else.

That sounded like code for hard work and sacrifice. Which was what Guatm had promised was at the end. I hated sacrifice and I had more than enough hard work to do me for a lifetime. With a sigh, I took a step forward. I didn’t care about any of that. But I did care about my friends.

I reached for the orb but hesitated.  The sound of a gong filled the air from far away. Guatm tilted his head slightly.

Saboraak?

Yes?

Can you ask Zyla for the list of precepts, please?

“Hurry,” Gautm said, his voice taking on a concerned sound. “There is a ... stretching ... I am not used to.”

Oh no.

What’s wrong? Saboraak? There was a feeling like panic from her end of our communication. Saboraak?

Hurry, Tor! Hurry.

I needed to know the precept this time!

A man has no claim on what is not already his.

Oh great. Clear as mud. That was rules and precepts for you. They were fancy ways of saying nothing at all. And for the record, telling me the answer to one question didn’t mean Zyla was trustworthy. I grabbed the red orb.

“Do not fail,” Gautm said as I bit into it.

The world shifted around me as the taste of misery and something much lighter ... celery? ... filled my mouth.

I have bad news, Saboraak said as around me the world shifted.

Everyone always had bad news. I probably wouldn’t even believe someone if they told me they had good news. Not these days.

I wasn’t on a branch anymore. I stood in a tower on a platform overlooking a great city. Before me on the platform, were laid three things on a single ivory table. The sun glinted off them and off the city below.

“Your people suffer, chosen one,” a woman in white said to me from beside one of the many man-sized windows looking out over the city. The filmy curtain swirled beside her and the hot sea breezes of Kavaiathan blew into our tower. “You must choose for us our fate. Please,” her huge blue eyes were full of pleading. She seemed significant here – significant to me. Was she a wife? A sister? I could not place the feeling, but she felt close to me. “Please, choose wisely.”

Tor are you there?

Who was speaking in my head?

Saboraak!

What was a Saboraak?

A young man with a saucy grin stepped up beside the woman in white and looked out over the city. He put a hand to his chin as he spoke. “A city in the grips of suffering presents a unique opportunity.”

“What kind of opportunity?” I asked.

“The opportunity to change the flows of history,” he said. “You can finally make the gears of government work for you. You can finally profit instead of just surviving.”

A sound like a gong filled my head and for a moment the room at the top of the white tower shimmered. Instead of white walls, I saw branches and orbs and a horrified Gautm, but it shimmered back after a moment as if nothing had happened. The only sign of the change was a light shimmer of sweat across the woman’s forehead and a tightening around her eyes.

“You must choose an object to help you save your people, chosen one,” she said. “Only you know what will benefit them – and you – most.”

Well, one thing was certain. This was a test and it meant I needed to follow the precept. As soon as the thought came, it felt foreign. Test? Precept? I knew no precepts.

I looked down at the items below me. There were three, but when I tried to look at any particular one my eyes skipped over it, not registering what it was.

The woman stepped forward, placing her hand on one of the items. I strained to look at it, but my eyes couldn’t focus. The other Tor stepped up, glaring at her and put his hand on an item, too.

“This is the Horn of Plenty,” he said and as he said it, the item he was touching was suddenly, clearly a horn. My eyes were able to take it in, to weigh it. It looked real. It was brass with castings of food and drink around the edges of it. “With it, you will never again be in need. You may provide for all your people any food or drink they need. How could you ask for more? And you yourself will never be without.”

I licked my lips. Now that was something I could use. I’d been hungry most of my life. The idea of not being hungry again sang to me like the song of angels.

“No!” the woman said, placing her hand on another item. “Material things are only so helpful. Choose instead the Book of Ancestors. Ask this book any question and an answer will appear. It will be the right answer and guide you in the right way. It will make you a hero of legend.”

The room shuddered as the gong sounded again, twice, three times, loud and desperate as if an army was on our doorsteps. The woman and the other Tor both gritted their teeth, gripping their items intently.

“Choose!” the woman said. “Choose the way of wisdom! Prove you have in you the potential to be a hero of legend for your people!”

“Choose not to be in want,” the other Tor urged. “You don’t even need to be selfish about it. You can share this with anyone. Choose plenty! It fits who you really are. We both know that!”

Precepts, I suddenly remembered. I was supposed to be remembering a precept. But it felt so far away.

“There’s a third item,” I said, buying time. “What is it?” Neither of them looked at the item. Their gazes were on me. “I’m supposed to be following a precept, right?”

The earth shook and around us, the tower began to crumble.

A man has no claim on what is not already his.

That was the precept!

But I wasn’t a hero. I’d be a fool to say I was. And I wasn’t a man gifted with plenty, as much as I might wish to be. If I pretended I was, then I would just be lying.

“Choose now,” the woman said, panic in her voice as the tiles began to crumble.

I reached down and grabbed the last item on the table. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew what I wasn’t – I was no hero. I was no rich man. I was just a fool boy who desperately wished he was lucky enough to keep all the promises he’d made to his friends.

The item on the table became a small hard ring in my hand.

I’d thought the test would be over as soon as I laid my hand on the object on the table, but the roof was still shaking apart. What should I do? I held my hand up over my head, the ring closed tightly in my fist.

“I choose this, whatever this is, okay? I choose this!”

The shaking continued and then the first heavy blow from above sent me to my knees. The next flattened me to the floor. I was coughing dust. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. What was happening?

The world went black.

Chapter Nine

SOMETHING ROUGH WAS under my cheek – bark. I coughed up the dust and grime filling my lungs as the world shook around me.

He’s here! He’s here!!

Who was here? Bataar? Had he made it?

No. Saboraak’s tone was chilling.

I pushed myself up. I needed to make sure she was okay. But no, I was still on the branch beside the red orb. Some of its juice had dripped in a sticky puddle on the floor, and Gautm was standing beside it, shaking like a leaf.

No, wait. The whole world was shaking like a leaf.

“A third,” he whispered. “A third. Two at once were hard enough but now a third one comes and not by natural means!”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

He looked at me dazed. “It should only be the chosen. Only the Ko should allow access to this place but someone else has come.”

“Someone without Ko?” I asked.

He nodded, his mouth open, a look of horror on his face. “A Rejected.”

Like I knew what that was. I shook my head to clear it. Well, they could all have their collective panic. I had a job and I needed to do it.

“Did I pass that one?” I asked Gautm.

“What?” he was dazed, his eyes far away and out of focus.

I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Dead man? Hey, dead man! Answer me! Did I pass?”

“What did you choose?” he asked, blinking as he pulled himself out of wherever he had been. The tree continued to shake.

“This ring.” I held it out for him to see it.

“What did it represent?”

“How should I know?”

“You were supposed to choose an item to help your people. Are you telling me that you truly didn’t know what you chose?” he looked shocked.

“I took a gamble,” I said, grumbling as I examined the ring. It was a gaudy thing. It looked like overlapping silver birch leaves, the points of the leaves pointing along the arc of the ring.

“A gamble.” He seemed almost as shocked as he had when he had been whispering about this new person. “And yet you did seem to pass this test. You must hurry. The next person follows. He will be here before long to take his turn at these orbs. If you both bite of the same orb at the same time, you will be in the same test. And if that happens, only one of you can win. If you are truly unlucky, you may die within the test with him.”

“How can he take the tests if he isn’t marked by Ko?” I asked. “Shouldn’t he have to wait below with the others?”

Gautm turned pale. “He should. But he is not.”

I opened my mouth to ask him why he even had rules if they were so arbitrary, but he shoved me forward.

“Hurry. On your life, hurry!”

Above me, I heard a scream. It sounded very much like Bataar. I stole one last look at Gautm, clenched my jaw in determination and looked above me.

I was supposed to follow the path of the branches wherever they led, right? Well, forget that. I was going after Bataar, and I was going now. I leapt up, grabbed the branch above me, and pulled myself through the tangle, following the sound of his cries.

I didn’t care who was following me. I didn’t care who was making these dead ancestors so nervous or shaking this place apart. All I cared about was getting to Bataar and getting him free from these tests. If two people could enter one test, then maybe I could join him in whatever one he was stuck in and free him.

You should care about who follows.

Why?

Because it is Apeq A’kona and he has already killed four ancestors who tried to stop him.

Chapter Ten

APEQ AKONA! THE MAN stuck in my craw like a bone in the throat. I couldn’t get away from him. And on top of that, he had forced himself into this place with magic when it was only supposed to open for Ko Bearers! He lost his Ko. The Ko’tor’kaen had taken them from him.

You care about their beliefs more than I thought you would. That’s admirable.

It wasn’t admirable. It was common sense. If I had to play by the rules, then he should too! Why didn’t this place refuse him? Why didn’t it wrap him in roots like it had to Saboraak or my supporters?

That’s why it’s shaking apart. Ancestors from every direction are rushing in to try to stop him, but he brought his tools – those rods that shoot fire.

But what was he doing here? Didn’t he have a nation to run? A war to start? Hearts to break and people to kill? You’d think an agenda like that would keep a man busy.

I climbed harder, fuelled by frustration at Apeq. I could see Bataar above me beside an orb that pulsed violet and brighter than any other one I’d seen.

I have more bad news.

Well, don’t keep it to yourself!

Time passes differently in here than it does out there. Here it has only been an hour at most since you arrived, but out there it has been days since you passed through the Doors of Heavens.

Were you and Bataar only here a short time before we arrived?

For us, time has also been strange.

Time was never on my side. But in fairness, Saboraak – and the few people wrapped in roots down below – were the only people who had ever been on my side. And I owed them everything.

Well, if Apeq could break all the rules, so could I. But to break rules, you had to understand them. Saboraak, can you get Zyla to tell you the complete list of Kav’ai precepts?

Her answer was immediate, as if she had been ready.

No man is a single oasis.

A man has no claim in what is not already his.

Glory is an empty cup. Do not grasp for it.

Those with feet rooted in the ground will never reach for the stars.

The power of death belongs to us all, but life serves no master.

All things must strive.

It was strange to hear her list the precepts off so calmly in my mind while around me leaves shook from the tree and the branches swayed as the entire reality in this world tried to reject the addition of Apeq A’kona.

Why was he here? Why couldn’t he just have left us alone?

I am riffling through his mind.

Yuck. I would not want to be in Apeq’s mind.

Neither do I. It is like dredging a slough.

Did you find anything?

I have. Before he attacks the Dominion, he would like to claim the leadership of the Kav’ai. He thinks they have more of that gray powder in their possession that he won’t find unless they offer it willingly.

Then why did he come here? Is he after Bataar?

In a way. Bataar was sent here by his elders. If he succeeds – as they say he must – he will be their leader as long as he lives.

So, no pressure.

You could learn from him, trout. He is honorable and dutiful.

He could keep his honor and duty. Put them on a shelf somewhere and polish them up to show to guests. Me? I’d stick with good old practicality and a rock-hard survival instinct.

Surprising characteristics for a hero, but you pull them off.

I was no hero.

I pulled myself up on a wide branch and found myself right beside Bataar. He stood rigidly in place, his face in a rictus as he held the violet orb.

If Apeq wins here before Bataar does, or if he can kill him or stop him, then Apeq A’kona can lay claim to the Kav’ai people, too. They will not be able to stop him.

That would mean you were dead, too.

An unfortunate side-effect.

There was no side-effect there. Saboraak’s life meant everything to me.

I am touched. But no, it is of less importance in the grand scheme of things than Bataar’s leadership. It is vital that he survives this. Even more vital that Apeq does not beat him.

How would Bataar’s leaders even know?

The one who beats this trial does inherit sacrifice – as you suspected – but they also inherit something else. Something they can use to prove their status.

If you are talking about face tattoos, trust me. I know all about those. As soon as there’s moonlight, I’ll show you mine. Although, in fairness, I’ll be looking in a mirror first. I’d like to see what sort of death mask they put on me without asking.

As decorative as I’m sure your new look is, that is not the sign.

Oh yeah?

Sweat dripped down Bataar’s temples and his hands shook more than the rest of this place, as if the pressure of the current test were getting to him. Who knows how many tests he had already faced. I’d skipped over mine. I could pull him away from it ...

Don’t!

Why not? I needed to get him out of here!

It will kill us both. And he is not doing well in the test.

He’s not?

I think he may be failing.

What happens if he fails this one?

My voice will fade again.

I couldn’t let that happen.

Tor? Her voice was uncertain. I’d never heard it like that before. I paused, my hands inches from the orb. There was no Gautm to stop me or recite the words over this orb. He was probably out there trying to stop Apeq. But somehow Saboraak’s simple voicing of my name gave me greater pause than anything he could have said.

If we don’t speak again, I have two things to say.

We’ll speak again.

First, you should know that whoever survives this Trial will be given the sign of truth. A way to distinguish truth from error.

Not my first choice of prize. I preferred to keep my secrets and lie as needed.

We both know that’s not true.

I was about to help Bataar and pretend I liked doing it. If that wasn’t a lie, then what was?

Your biggest lie is the lie you keep telling that you’re not a hero and that you don’t care.

I was about to protest.

Tor? The other thing?

Yes?

Take care of yourself. Life isn’t the same without you.

Well, what was a guy supposed to do with words like that in his mind? I could hardly disappoint her now. She had me right where she wanted me. Dragons. They were worse than magic trees and crumbling dead guys.

I wouldn’t disappoint her.

I grabbed the orb in both hands, leaned down – uncomfortably close to Bataar – and sunk my teeth into it.

Chapter Eleven

I PLUNGED INTO ANOTHER world. Unlike before, I could tell.

This world had a washed-out look, like it had been hanging in the sun too long and had faded. Was it always like this, or was it a result of Apeq entering the test and slaying the ancestors? And how did you slay people who were already dead?

“Even the dead have fears,” the other Tor said, stepping up beside me. He was grinning his easy grin and letting his green eyes skim over the faded-out beach scene in front of us. A choppy, violent sea beat against the ragged coast, tearing it apart, a single grain of sand at a time. I didn’t have the time to sit around and watch its slow march to disintegration. “Even the dead can be killed.”

“Gautm was preoccupied when I entered here. Any chance you might know what precept we are following in this one?” I asked the other Tor. Maybe he could be good for something.

He winked and said, “You tell me. I’m you.”

“You smile too much,” I said with a scowl. His answering laugh made me want to slap him. Did he take nothing seriously?

“There’s something odd about that hill,” he said pointing in the distance.

I’d been noticing that, too. I started walking toward it. There was a whimpering sound coming from the mound of earth on the beach. It was the size of a small house and our side of the mound was a sand dune with patchy beach grass growing on it. Whatever was whimpering might be around the other side.

“That ring you got before ... the one with the leaves,” the other Tor said casually, “might be useful right about now.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked. “How’s that?”

“I’m not sure yet, but you won that test, and the ring must do something.”

What was the point of having a companion who didn’t know anything more than you did, didn’t see anything you didn’t see, didn’t have anything to contribute other than what you would contribute?

“You forget,” the mimic said. “I’m not a reward. You failed my test. I’m a curse – a constant reminder of who it was who failed that. And you don’t learn very well, do you? You strayed from the path and went your own way. You don’t even know what the rules for this place are.”

“Rules?”

“Isn’t that what the precepts are? The rules of these realities?”

He had a point.

The sun glared over us, beating so hard on my neck that I bent forward in response. I tried to keep my gaze down and out of the worst of it, but because of that, I kept getting glimpses of the mimic. He walked like he owned the beach. He whistled through his teeth unconsciously and ran his hand vainly through his hair. His gaze passed over everything easily, like nothing could affect him. Did I really look like that?

“Yeah, you look like me,” he said with a laugh. “Here’s another fun twist. I know all your thoughts. They’re my thoughts, after all.”

He was going to get old fast. He started whistling a tune I knew called, I’m Older than the Hills. Maybe if I slapped him, I wouldn’t feel it.

“Oh, you’d feel it. I’d make sure you did.”

That was just the kind of threat I’d give someone.

He snickered.

The moaning grew louder as we approached the mound of sand and twice my vision flickered, showing branches and a glowing violet orb instead of the empty beach. This reality wasn’t very strong.

“Do you think those dead guys come up here and try out these tests when they get bored?” the mimic asked.

“I don’t want to speculate.”

“Sounds like a terrible afterlife. If this is what Bataar has coming to him, you should be nicer to the poor guy. It’s a miserable existence. Do you believe in an afterlife?”

It was a strange question to ask a guy in the middle of a crisis.

“Technically, you’re asking yourself. I bet someone like Zin gets an afterlife. And Saboraak.”

We rounded the corner of the sand mound and I finally could see who was moaning. Bataar was on his knees in front of an ancient-looking stone structure. It was like a wall, twice as high as a man, though it was built to look like an angry face with an open mouth. In the dark slats between each of the stone teeth of the mound, metal levers poked out from deep in the mouth. You would have to kneel – as Bataar had done – and reach up to your shoulder into the mouth to grasp one of the levers and pull it.

Bataar, it seemed, had pulled the wrong one.

There was an inscription carved into the stone around the face. I leaned over Bataar as my mimic read it aloud.

“Choice is a gift to all men. You must choose. But choose wisely. Each choice takes its price. Ooo, creepy.”

Bataar’s face was white as a ghost. He leaned with his forehead against the stone, sweat soaking his head and shirt. I tried to move him, and he screamed. His arm was clamped in the stone. Streaks of red and purple shot up its length all the way to the shoulder.

I swallowed. This was not good.

“I think he chose poorly,” my mimic said blithely. I wasn’t that uncompassionate, was I? No, I wasn’t.

My throat ached, and my mouth felt dry as I studied Bataar. He was trapped. There was no way out. How long had he been in this test? Had he been in this particular one the whole time, or had he only been in here a few moments? It looked like he’d been here for hours. But Saboraak said time worked differently here.

“Maybe when you leave, you’ll be an old man,” the mimic said. “You’ll fly out of here like Hubric and Kyrowat. If you fly at all. Your friends might already be dead.”

I tried to ignore him. Bataar was muttering something. I leaned down close to listen.

“Glory is an empty cup. Do not grasp for it.”

That was one of the precepts. He was murmuring it again and again like a chant. Perhaps that was the one he was supposed to be following. I needed a way to get him out of this test. But I couldn’t drag him out of it, and I felt ill at the thought of cutting his arm off. Was there some other way to open the mechanism that was holding him?

“Perhaps if you pulled the right lever, it would let him go.” The other Tor had his chin between two fingers as he studied the stone face.

“There are six levers. Five if you don’t count the one that he grabbed,” I said.

“And each has a symbol,” the mimic said.

Saboraak? Any thoughts? There was no response. Bataar coughed violently. Saboraak must be fading as his strength faded.

I needed to act quickly if I were going to act.

“You could opt out. Go back to the real world and leave this fool here. You owe him nothing,” the mimic said.

“I owe Saboraak everything,” I said.

“And if she dies, you die,” the mimic said, nodding.

“Yes, but that’s not why I’m doing this. Besides, I’m starting to like Bataar. If nothing else, he makes me look less like a stick-in-the-mud when I’m near him. He’s already got that role filled.”

“Then we’ll have to figure out these signs,” the mimic said.

There was a symbol over each hole in the face’s mouth – over each lever. A cup, an oasis, a hand, a star, a knife, and a running man.

“Glory is an empty cup,” Bataar muttered. “Empty cup.”

Ha. Well, that actually helped. Each one of these symbols was for one of the precepts. The empty cup was the one for the precept that Bataar was quoting. And it was clear about not grasping the cup, so Bataar had chosen a different lever – the star.

I ran through the precepts in my mind: No man is a single oasis. Okay, we’d already done that one. I’d failed it and gained this lovely mimic companion.

“You should be glad to have me. I can tell you not to grab the oasis lever.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“I can’t.” He scoffed.

The second precept was, a man has no claim in what is not already his. That was how I gained the mysterious leaf ring in my pocket. So, it wasn’t that one.

Glory is an empty cup. Do not grasp for it. That was the one Bataar thought this test was about. So, he hadn’t grabbed for the cup of glory. That made a lot of sense.

“Unless it’s meant to trick you. Maybe you should grab the cup.”

Was I really as stupid as this other Tor? The rules couldn’t be plainer than ‘do not grasp for it.’ There were three more. Those with feet rooted in the ground will never reach for the stars. That was the one Bataar had chosen. A good choice. It mentioned reaching as a good thing right in the precept. The star symbol was clear above his sweating, delusional face.

But he had been wrong. There were two other options.

The power of death belongs to us all, but life serves no master.

All things must strive.

The knife and the running man. One for the power of death that belonged to all men. One for striving. I understood that much. So, which was it? That other precept said you could only claim what was already yours. If death was already mine, it made sense to claim it, right? I knelt in front of the lever with the knife above it.

But then again, the guys here had been very big on working hard and sacrifice and wasn’t that what striving was?

I hesitated, reaching toward the other lever – the one with the running man. Either hand could reach – or both. I could try both at once. They were right next to each other.

“I think you have to choose,” the mimic said. “I don’t think you can do both.”

“Maybe I should make you do it,” I muttered. “After all, you are me.”

The hand reaching toward the lever with the knife inscription itched in anticipation. There was no glory in death and glory was what Bataar was muttering about. It was clearly the right answer, I was just stalling because I was afraid to pull it.

“I don’t do your dirty work,” the mimic said with a smirk. “You read the stone face. It said, ‘You must choose.’ You. Not me.”

My eyes opened wide. Oh.

Before I could change my mind, I reached into the alcove with the running man symbol. All things must strive. Striving required choice and action. I’d made my choice. I took the action.

I pulled the lever.

Chapter Twelve

IF THERE WAS SOME REWARD for winning this one, it wasn’t apparent. A gong sounded, shaking the beach so that it quivered and vanished and left me kneeling on a tree branch beside an unconscious Bataar. His arm lay limp and crushed beside him and the angle of it made my stomach heave. I crawled to him, missing the mimic in that moment. I could use his unique brand of moral support. He had a thicker skin than I did.

I tried to shake Bataar, but his head lolled uselessly to the side. I swallowed. I couldn’t leave him here and I couldn’t save Saboraak without him. I’d just have to find a way to carry him – without destroying his arm in the process if that was possible.

I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. When had I started sweating? A light golden tinge lit everything. Maybe there was a golden orb nearby. With difficulty, I grabbed one of Bataar’s legs and his uninjured arm and slung him up over my shoulders. He was heavy. A lot heavier than Zin and a lot stinkier than her, too. I tried not to think about his sweat soaking into my clothes. With a grunt, I tried to walk. I could just manage it. We couldn’t be too far from the end of the test. I didn’t have to beat it – after all – I’d skipped a few steps. I just needed to get Bataar through it.

Saboraak? Nothing.

Kyrowat? Still nothing.

I tried not to worry about it, even though my outlook was plummeting faster than a stone thrown from the Ko’tor’kaen.

Apeq would have gone past all of them in his journey to the test. And he hated my friends. I didn’t want to picture them slaughtered on the roots below, but the images filled my mind anyway. I blinked them away, but they kept coming back like jagged shards of glass in my mind.

“Gautm!”

I took a shaky step forward and the tree shook wildly. Gautm blinked to life in front of me. He looked back and forth rapidly between Bataar and me.

“This is out of the usual,” he said nervously. “You may only take your own test.”

“Not acceptable,” I said. “We passed the last one.”

“You passed it,” he agreed. “The other boy did not.”

“He’s with me.”

The ancient warrior looked muley for a moment but then he nodded reluctantly. His eyes were huge when he looked at me.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He coughed nervously. “Forgive me. I am simply surprised that you are still here. You did win the ring after all.”

“The ring?” I laughed humorlessly. “I don’t even know what it does.”

He startled, then looked around as if worried that we would be overheard. “It was what you wished for when you took it – what you already possessed. The ability to get yourself out of trouble. If you put it on and merely wish to go – well, you’d leave this place.”

“I’d hardly abandon the people I brought here with me,” I said drily. I might be as awful as my mimic, but even I wasn’t that bad.

He looked surprised. “If you leave free and clear from the test, then the people you brought here will leave with you. Of course, the poor soul you are carrying cannot come with you. But he is close to death already. As is his companion.”

He said it so factually, as if he had not just plunged a dagger into my heart. Saboraak!

I stumbled forward to one knee, trembling.

“A sad end, no doubt,” Gautm said. “But one of honor. They will be remembered here.”

No. There had to be another way. There had to be. I could hear myself gibbering in my own mind. Or maybe that was the mimic. Or maybe I was going mad.

“If you don’t choose to use the ring, you have another task to find. Follow the branch and remember the last precept.” There was a loud boom from below and his face went white. “Whatever you decide, you should hurry. The man who came after you is pulling this World of Legends down on our heads. Five hundred years we have been in this tiny world. Five hundred years we have judged the heroes and given them what they need.” He shook his head sadly. “The two of you may be the last. Already, he has destroyed so much of this place. It may not last beyond your testing – maybe not even that long.”

His face was sad as he faded away.

I slumped to one knee. We could leave – some of us. And if we didn’t, I would have to hurry before Apeq destroyed everything. I heard a blast as something tore apart, something that sounded like it was just under me. Apeq must be blasting his way through the tree rather than following the path.

I’d thought I was so clever to cheat the system and climb through the branches. I wasn’t the only one with that idea.

In fact, Apeq was doing it faster and more effectively than I could have dreamed.

I hated that we were so alike. He was as much like me as my own mimic.

On my shoulders, Bataar moaned and I bit my lip. Even if I took him with me, I had no guarantee that I could beat the next Trial and no way to get him and Saboraak out if I didn’t.

If I left now, with the ring, at least I could guarantee the safety of the others who had come with me. I could minimize the losses.

But I wasn’t the kind of guy who hedged my bets. And I was sure I could win this test if I was given a fair fight. Bataar and Saboraak, though – well, Gautm had said they were close to death.

I lowered Bataar to the ground and pulled the ring out of my pocket, letting my finger run over the leaf pattern. It was tempting to keep it – an ace up my sleeve. But I knew a losing hand when I saw it, and Bataar’s had already lost. Steeling myself for the challenge ahead, I took a deep breath, ready to shove the ring over Bataar’s finger.

This had better work.

A hand yanked me backward.

Chapter Thirteen

THE RING ALMOST SLIPPED through my fingers, but I clung to it. It was a ticket out of here – for someone, at least – and I didn’t dare lose it.

I spun around to see a grim-faced Apeq, his fire-rod waving in front of me like he was drunk. His eyes were intense, the silver swirling brightly in them. But his breathing was ragged, and it made his hands shake.

I lifted my own hands in a sign of peace. No need to kill me.

Tor. Saboraak’s voice was the barest whisper in my mind. I fade.

I didn’t have time for Apeq.

“Apeq,” I greeted him calmly. “How are the arms? Baby soft with that new skin growing?”

I shouldn’t antagonize him. I knew that, but I couldn’t stop.

“Three days I’ve chased you. Three days since those fools let you into the World of Legends.” He seemed almost mad with his intensity.

Three days? It felt like we had only been here for a few hours at most.

“This old place?” I looked around at the tree branches dramatically. “It’s entertaining, but a bit limited, you know? I haven’t had a decent meal yet and the accommodations are the worst. The roots just stick into your back.”

“This isn’t a joke,” Apeq growled. “Do you know what is at risk here?”

“Something about truth?” I shook my head in wide-eyed innocence.

He laughed scornfully. “I should kill you right here.”

I should be scared. But I wasn’t. If I was going to die, I’d die on my feet.

“Then go ahead and do it.”

His face contorted in rage and he looked down the rod as if he were aiming the fire. Gautm appeared out of nowhere, standing between me and the rod.

“Until the end of the testing, the peace of this place must be preserved,” he said harshly. “We have told you this!”

We were surrounded – instantly – by others like Gautm – shadowy, flickering people in strange attire. They wore black kilts and crossing straps over their chests, or long vests and light baggy pants, or thick cummerbunds over flaring coats – but despite their variety of outfits, they all wore one thing in common: a fierce expression.

“We told you below, Apeq A’kona,” a woman with flowing black hair said. She was wizened with age, but her curving sword was large and sharp. “You may kill us all you want, but it will not bring what you seek. Only completing the trials will do that. Death and life are not the same here. Neither is time. All are subject to a different master.”

“I can still kill the boy here,” Apeq said, his gaze never leaving mine. “I can scatter him across these branches, a burned fragment here, a bloody scrap there.”

“Like the burning Ko when they fell from your arms and marked you as an imposter?” I asked.

“If you kill him in the World of Legends, you will fail the test.”

“Maybe I don’t need to succeed,” Apeq said. His hand still wove and shook as he kept the rod pointed at me despite raging emotions.

I tried to look cool and collected. The last thing I needed was to go as mad as he seemed to be. If I did that, then we would all die. Apeq, too, because I wasn’t going down without taking him with me.

I clenched my fists and steeled my jaw. If this came to a fight, I would be ready. And I’d need to watch out for Bataar. One false move could kill him. He was slumped on the branch behind me, his breathing shallow. He almost seemed not to breathe at all.

“If you fail the test, the same fate will fall on you as on all the others,” the old woman reminded Apeq. “You will die here, and the world beyond will remember your name no more. But you will not stay here. This world is a place for legends – for those who in life were heroes. It is no place for fools or failures.”

I shivered, my gaze wandering to Bataar. His only hope was the ring – these people had no mercy. I needed to get that on his finger. I shifted slightly, as if to go to him, but Apeq yelled.

“Don’t move! Don’t even flinch!”

“Sure,” I said tightly, hands still up, still placating.

“Where is the last test?” Apeq demanded. “Tell me. I will beat it and then all of you will be under my rule. That’s what the prophecies say: He who walks the World of Legends commands the ancients. He who passes their scrutiny will divide truth from lies and set the course of history. He will be called Ko’roi – the weaver of the future. Once that’s true for me, even you will bow the knee! Even you, ghosts!”

Yeah, he was crazy.

He lowered his rod, but the intensity of his gaze only grew as he pushed past the heroes of legend and planted a hand on my chest to push me aside. I let him. Flinching only when he kicked Bataar as he passed.

We stood in silence as his walk turned to a run and he disappeared down the branch and into the warren of branches beyond.

I hurried over to Bataar. His chest wasn’t moving. Or if it was, then it was so small a movement that I could barely see it at all.

“Come on, Bataar, hang in there!” I muttered. “You’re arrogant, and a hard guy to compete with, and I’m pretty sure that the only girl who’s ever kissed me is in love with you, but when it comes to a choice between you and Apeq, I’d rather see you lead Ko’Torenth. So, you can’t die yet.”

I jammed the ring over his finger, hoping it worked, hoping it would save both him and my dragon.

Bataar disappeared.

Chapter Fourteen

I STRAIGHTENED, EXPECTING the ancestor ghosts to be gone, but instead, they still stood there, a silent line of fearsome warriors – most long past their prime. They were looking at me with owlish stares.

“Well, I don’t know what you expected me to do with that ring, but I was hardly going to run away when I had friends in trouble, right? What kind of a guy would that make me? I’m no hero, but you don’t need to be a hero to see that Bataar wasn’t doing well.”

They kept staring and I couldn’t help but say more. If they expected anything from me, I’d set them straight.

“Just because I chose to stay doesn’t mean that I want anything from you, okay? I just want my friends to be safe. You don’t need to look at me like that. I’m not here to take anything from you.”

“The power of death belongs to us all, but life serves no master,” Gautm quoted quietly and there was a murmur among the Ko Bearers.

I had no idea what that meant. It was one of their precepts, but it seemed silly. Of course, everyone had the power to kill, and no one could bring people back to life. That was just common sense.

Or were they saying life was unpredictable? If so, that was an idea I could get on board with.

Maybe they were just curious. After all, they must not get much entertainment here.

The sun was rising behind me, and as its golden beams trickled between the leaves, the ko on the arms of the ghosts disappeared just like mine did. Their holy symbols were invisible once again.

What was the point of symbols you could only see at night anyway?

“Maybe that’s when you most need to see them – when things are darkest.”

I looked over to my mimic. He was standing a little further up the branch, close to where Apeq had disappeared into the tangle. I sighed. I’d hoped he would stay in the illusions.

“I’m not easy to put in a box,” he said with a twisted smile.

Yeah. That was me, alright.

“Well,” I said to the ghosts, as if they were people waiting to hear what I had to say. “I guess I’d better get on with it.”

They said nothing, just staring at me. Their eyes followed my every movement. Creepy.

It was hard to turn my back on them, but I had no choice. I started slowly, shuffling along the branch while looking over my shoulder, but as the distance increased, I sped to a hurried walk and then a lope. The mimic kept pace with me.

“Think he set any traps for us up ahead?” he asked.

That was just the kind of thing I’d suspect. I’d better keep my eyes open.

“I’ve got mine open, too.”

“Maybe you aren’t a curse after all,” I muttered as I scrambled up through a place where the branch narrowed and split, climbing on all fours across to the next branch through the warren of poking twigs and swaying branches.

“Oh, I’m a curse. Ask anyone else. Two of you is two too many.”

Uh huh.

I made it up to the next branch, but there were no orbs nearby. I would have seen their glow despite the golden sunbeams that pierced the leaves in streams of goldenrod and lime. Tiny dust motes danced in the light like magic and I shivered.

I didn’t mind the magical beauty of nature, but I was done with any other kind of magic. If I had my way, it would never touch me again – never touch my friends, never exist at all.

I was done with magic.

They said it was fading from the world, did they? It couldn’t fade quickly enough for me. Not at all.

I climbed on. I’d lost any sense of where Apeq was. I’d lost any sense of where I was, as the minutes merged into hours and translated into sweat soaking my shirt and clinging to my every hair.

I needed water. I needed food. I needed rest.

There was none here.

Twice, maybe three times, I thought I’d found an orb, only to come upon it and realize there was nothing there. This place was ruled by illusion and madness.

No new test had surfaced since I last saw the ancestors. There was only the tree, and light, and the mimic. and me. He was chatty.

“I don’t know, it’s nice up here,” he said as we reached the smaller branches. “No girls doing confusing things. No dragons making demands. No prophecies or danger.”

“Or fun,” I wheezed.

“Sure, no fun.” He kicked idly at a patch of leaves as I stopped for a break. He was playing with a throwing knife – one of mine, obviously – letting it roll across the back of his hand and then flipping it in the air to catch the handle just before it pierced his leg or fell down into the branches below. Every time he succeeded it looked like an accident and only his saucy grin told me it was intentional.

Yeah, he’d been right. I was annoying to hang around with.

Too bad I couldn’t change him for Bataar’s mimic. At least it wouldn’t be mine.

“A breakthrough,” he laughed. “You’ve learned how annoying you are. That alone is a gift.”

I ignored him and began to climb again. The branches were small now, waving wildly when I put my weight on them.

I pulled on one and my head burst through the leaves to the sky above. The branch I was on was thicker and stronger than the ones around it. Hurriedly, I climbed higher, out of the dense leaves on this single leader branch.

I was looking out over a forest canopy. In the distance, something flew in the sky, Not dragons. There were no wings. The things seemed to float, huge and bulbous in the distance, heavy baskets dragging beneath them. Far, far in the distance, a golden city squatted on a mountain and beyond it in the blue haze of distance, I thought I could almost see a sea.

I gasped. I had almost begun to think this single tree was all there was in this world, but here, beyond it, a world existed.

I swallowed back the nauseating fear that accompanied the realization. I was here to do a single task. The World of Legends was not a place for me to call home. Not now and not ever. It was a place beyond our world. A place for heroes. A place I would never see again.

But my vantage point had one advantage.

I could see, not far away, a huge blue orb glowing between the leaves below. A dark figure was next to it. Apeq.

If he had found the last orb, then he had already begun that test. And it was up to me to wrench victory from his hands before he used it to destroy the people I loved.

I aimed my body toward the glowing orb and leapt with all my might.

Chapter Fifteen

I SAILED THROUGH THE air, clutching at leaves. This was a bad idea, Tor! What were you thinking?

“That you are immune to death. As per usual,” my mimic said calmly as he sailed beside me.

Leaves became twigs and I thrashed at them, trying to get a grip – any grip – on the waving fingers of the tree.

My body smacked – belly first – against a wrist-thick branch.

Ooof! That hurt.

I clung tightly to the branch and pulled myself up on top of the wide strength of the limb, maneuvering down it to a bigger branch further back. This one was the size of my waist. A little work and I had it underfoot once again.

Further down the branch, the orb glowed bright and blue. Good. I had nearly aimed right.

“And you nearly got yourself killed,” the other Tor said.

I didn’t need his criticism.

Apeq stood over the orb, blue juices trickling down his chin. His eyes stared wide in horror and his hands were frozen around the fruit. Whatever that last challenge contained was not something that made him feel safe. But it would also give him some sort of power I didn’t have, unless I beat him too it.

The problem was, that power involved self-sacrifice and I had never been the sacrificial sort.

“We’ve had enough trouble in our life,” my mimic said. “No need to add to it. Let someone else do the sacrificing. But you can worry about that after you win.”

Nervously, I ran a hand through my hair and stepped slowly toward him. If I entered this test I would have to win. And I wasn’t sure I could push the other responsibilities away if I won. Then again, if I didn’t fight, I’d be letting Apeq become this Ko’roi and who knew what that would mean.

I was no hero, but somehow, I kept having to do hero-work. Where were all the heroes? They should be here doing this. This was their job!

“I think all the heroes are dead,” the mimic said. “There’s a whole city of them over that way.”

He pointed in the direction of the golden city we’d seen.

“You aren’t even real,” I muttered.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Just tell me that we can handle this.”

“We?” The mimic pulled a coin out of his belt pouch – my belt pouch – and flipped it, covering the flipped coin with a hand. “Who says I’m going to help you? I never agreed to that. I’m just along for the ride. Stars you bite the fruit. Skies you don’t.”

“I have to bite the fruit,” I said nervously. “I just don’t have to like what might come after.”

“Well, no one ever said life was fair. You play with the hand you’re dealt and the cards that pop up and if you don’t play, then you lose. Do you want to lose?”

I did not want to lose.

He flipped the coin and caught it, letting it bounce across his knuckles like a magic trick before clasping his other hand over the coin and handing it to me, face up.

It showed skies.

I expected to feel relief but instead, I only felt tension. The blue orb drew me as if I wouldn’t be able to resist it even if I wanted to. It was like responsibility and heroics. They were always showing up and demanding that I take them. I didn’t even have the choice to say ‘no’ anymore. Not now that I cared about people.

That’s what got me every time. Caring.

In the distance, a bright light seared through the sky in the direction of the golden city. The brightness seared through the trees, piercing through leaves and branches and leaving afterimages dancing across my vision. A moment later, the branch beneath me trembled, rocking and swaying so that I stumbled for support and grasped at the branch holding the blue orb. Apeq rocked in place, his hands still clutching the orb and his face twisting in pain.

A sound like a thunderclap filled the air.

When the shaking stopped, my mimic had vanished.

There was only me, and Apeq, and the orb.

“You must taste it,” Gautm said from behind me. His voice sounded grim. Behind him, the other ancestors stood along the branch. I spun, and they were in all the branches around us, staring at Apeq and me. “You must submit to the last Trial.”

An idea came to me. I needed an advantage. “Only if you tell me what precept controls this one.”

I didn’t know which precept this one was for. I ran through my mind over the ones that had already been used. We’d done the striving one. We’d done the one where you could only claim what you already were. We’d done the one where no man was an oasis. That left two more. And it could be either one. Who knew how many tests we had skipped along the way?

The two left were:

Glory is an empty cup. Do not grasp for it.

Those with feet rooted in the ground will never reach for the stars.

But I really needed to know which one to follow because one told you to reach for something and the other told you not to reach and only one of those could be true, couldn’t it?

“I can’t tell you the answer, but you must hurry!” Stress tainted Gautm’s voice making it crack as he spoke. “Did you see our city explode in the distance? Did you feel the branches shake? The Day of Destruction has come. The last test takers are here. One will leave as the Ko’roi – the weaver of the future and the other will die, but there will be no more Ko Bearers who come to us after the last test is taken. Not until the reweaving. Not until the Future is Reborn.”

I hated prophecies and foretellings – hated them worse than arbitrary tests based on a religion I didn’t follow. And these guys were full of them.

“The fire will spread to this tree,” one of the ancestors said.

“Fire?” That got my attention. I felt the blood rushing from my face, felt the branch below me suddenly feel less stable. I could still feel the heat of the flames of Vanika, still smell my neighbors burning to ash, still remember the panicked tears sizzling up in steam off the faces of the survivors as I pulled them from the wreckage, still ... stop! Stop, Tor, before you lose yourself again!

I spun, meaning to grab Gautm by the shirt, but he had no shirt. I seized his throat, pulling him to me, quivering with an emotion I couldn’t even understand.

“A fire? How soon until it reaches us?”

“Hours perhaps, if that. But in this world, you could not make it back to the ground before the fire arrives. Here, time is different.”

My friends were tangled in roots at the base of this tree. They might have hours. Maybe. I didn’t realize I was choking Gautm until I heard his gasping breaths. Around me, the ancestors stared, their wide-eyed looks owlish in the morning light. I eased up my grip but held him fast. I had no idea that I could be so deadly.

“My friends – the ones below,” I said. “I will fight this fight, and I will win, but I can’t be sure you will set them free in time. Set them free now. You are not bound by space. You can be there in an instant. And if you aren’t bound by that, then you aren’t bound by any rules. You can set them free if you want to.”

“I cannot,” Gautm said.

“Release them,” I said, squeezing his throat again in my grip. I could feel his pulse hammering against it. His arms reached up, palms wrapping around my forearm, but I would not stop.

Not with my friends at stake.

Death from fire.

Fire!

The horror seared my mind, licking across my heart again. If I never saw another fire it would be too soon. I only had one bargaining chip with these ancestors. Now was the time to use it. They needed me as much as I needed them.

“Release them now and I will bite your fruit and take your test. Don’t, and I will kill you here and see if I can save them myself. You know you don’t want Apeq to win this. You know what sort of leader he would be to the people you care so much about. You need me. You need me to win.”

There was no response from the silent ancestors except the horrible sucking sound of Gautm trying to breathe.

And then a soft hand lay on my arm.

I spun, certain of a threat, but it was only a woman in thick robes, her waist-length white hair waving in a breeze that didn’t touch me.

“Let our brother go,” she said gently. “We shall release your supporters and send them back through the gate – though what they do after that is not under our authority.”

“Do you promise?” I asked, afraid to let go of Gautm, afraid that they wouldn’t keep their promises, afraid of the fire.

Together, the mass of the dead spoke as one, “You have our promise.”

With a shudder, I released Gautm. He fell for a moment and then disappeared. Lucky fool. He could be away from me in a moment and I couldn’t get away from them without a price.

“Wise to choose to save the innocent,” the woman said. “Wise to choose compassion. Foolish not to ask at what price. Had you a supporter, they may have helped you in what is to come.”

“I thought you wanted me to win,” I said defiantly. “I thought you preferred me over Apeq!”

The woman raised her eyebrows as if she were disapproving of a fussy child. “Our world ends and we with it. We go on to the life beyond this place that held us for so long. Who comes after us is none of our concern. Win and live or fail and die – what does it matter to us? But we must send one of you back to be the Ko’roi. That is destined. Our last act.”

She faded as she said the word “act” and when I looked up, they were all gone and there was only me and Apeq and the pulsing blue fruit left – and the fires in the distance that were coming to swallow us up.

Chapter Sixteen

IF I PASSED THIS TEST, would there be time for me to get out of this world before the fires came for me? I didn’t want to die like that. And could I really trust that the Ko Bearers had set my friends free?

There was no point stressing about things I couldn’t control. I had only one thing to do – enter the test and fight Apeq – man to man – for the chance to get out of this burning world.

I wiped my hands on my trousers, trying to get the sweat off of them. I was going to die in this ridiculous Kav’ai get-up like a fake Bataar. I chuckled darkly at the thought of how horrified he’d be to have me defile his national costume.

And then, before I could change my mind, I leaned down, grabbed the orb, picked a place as far away from Apeq as I could, and bit the fruit.

There was another boom and the ground beneath me shook, but now I didn’t know if it was shaking in the World of Legend or in the vision I had just entered.

There was fire here. Which hardly seemed fair, since there had been fire out there, too.

I was standing on a metal platform that was already far too hot. Above me, a series of ladders and platforms twisted and turned, but from where I was, I could see everything.

Above us, were a pair of bracelets and what was clearly a crown glowing magically in the dark smoke above. I didn’t have to know Kav’ai legends or precepts to know that those were clearly what we were here to get. They were at the apex of the platforms and ladders and they hung on a long chain that was slowly lowering.

Which seemed strange.

Until I looked down.

Beneath me was lava. I’d never seen lava before, but it was obvious that was what it was. It was far, far down below, but the point where a human could stand the heat of it was pretty much exactly where I was standing – which told me one thing: you would have to climb the ladders and descend that chain to get the crown and bracelets before they got lower than the platform I was on – or lose them forever.

I could do that. I was faster and stronger than Apeq and climbing and jumping had become second nature to me now.

But someone out there had thought to themselves, “How can we make them really sweat.” And he’d clearly been the designer because out over the lava were hanging cages.

There were two hanging in front of me and two hanging over where Apeq must have entered – on a platform equidistant from the hanging crown but at least two hundred paces from my platform. I couldn’t see what was in the cages over there, but in the cages right in front of me were a broken promise.

Saboraak, chained around the snout, was jammed into one of the cages, her eyes wild and flashing. I could not hear her mind at all.

In the other cage, Zin and Zyla clutched at each other, their eyes equally terrified, their mouths and legs chained.

My head spun. My lungs and heart wanted to give up right now – they were working triple-time, making my head spin with the sudden rush of it.

.And it was obvious why.

There was only one of me and both those cages were being slowly lowered toward the lava. They were just above my head right now, but by the time I could get to either of them by way of the ladders and platforms, it would be nearly too low for a human to live from the burning heat. I didn’t know about a dragon. But I remembered that Ephretti’s dragon hadn’t been immune to fire. They had more tolerance than we did, but even Saboraak could be killed by fire.

To reach either cage, I would need to climb up to the arm from which the cage hung suspended by a single chain and then, just like with the crown, I would need to climb down that chain.

My gaze swiveled wildly from one cage to the other. I couldn’t save both. And I certainly couldn’t grab the crown.

And that was the test, wasn’t it?

Who will you save?

A ridiculous test. A test I couldn’t help but fail. But I couldn’t just sit here and watch them all burn, either. I couldn’t. Already, my tears were drying as fast as they could fall and the steam of the heat of them fuelled my anger.

Crying! Like a child. Ridiculous.

I was only crying because those ghostly ancestors had lied to me and I’d never get my revenge. Already, their kingdom burned. I almost wished I could burn them all with it. That was all. It wasn’t because I was watching my life end before my eyes.

And then my gaze was dragged to a small inscription on the rail around my platform. I should be running already.

Each second counted now, but I could not help but read.

One wish to help you pass this test. One wish alone. You may not wish the test away. And what you wish will live on.

One wish.

I swallowed and began to run from my platform to the ladders. I didn’t need to decide which route until after I’d climbed the first ladder. It wasn’t until after that that the paths would branch. As I ran, my mind thought so quickly that I couldn’t keep up.

I couldn’t wish the test away. I sucked in a breath as my feet pounded along the platform.

So, I couldn’t wish them out of the cages, or wish the cages to stop, or wish the crown to come to me, or wish Apeq to freeze in place. Whatever I wished for couldn’t take the test away. And it would work in the outside world because it would live on.

I stumbled. Had Apeq wished for revenge on the Ko Bearers? Or that they would burn – just as I had almost wished down below? Or had he wished that in this test one person would be the last to ever take it? Any of those wishes could have resulted in the exploding city above, in the fire, in the very reason that we must hurry here or die.

I felt like my heart might pound out of my chest. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Was it hotter in here? I reached the first ladder and gasped, not just at the exertion but in despair because I wasn’t smart enough for this test.

A genius idea hadn’t come to me. I couldn’t think of a way to get what I needed without violating the rules. I could wish for another ring, but that would only save me. And it might not even work – not when the rules said it couldn’t stop the test. I wanted Saboraak and the girls to be free. I wanted them to live. I wished it more than anything, but their cages were still lowering.

I didn’t think that old Ko Bearer had tricked me, but she had. She knew all along that they would be in here. Had she thought I was only wishing for the safety of the rest? And how had she got Saboraak back to put her in a cage?

I hesitated for a moment before running again.

What if this was an illusion? What if they weren’t there at all? But the girls’ screams seemed real. And even if it wasn’t real, could I really abandon them and rush toward that crown as Apeq was doing? I could see him up the ladders and platforms hurrying toward the chain that held the crown. I could still beat him if I wanted to. I was faster, and fitter, and younger, and I’d lived my whole life running roof to roof in a city that wanted me dead. This was my kind of game.

But the girls and my dragon ...

I didn’t know that it was real, but I didn’t know that it wasn’t real either.

Those Ko Bearers hadn’t stopped Apeq from competing, even though they must know who he is. They weren’t necessarily good.

I was at the ladder and I began to climb, my sweaty hands slipping on the rungs as I climbed.

Maybe that was why they had given in to my demand that they release my friends so easily. Maybe it was because they had never given in at all.

The test was about the precepts. It was about one of them. But which one? Maybe if it was about the crown then the girls weren’t really real. That could be true if it was the one that said: Those with feet rooted in the ground will never reach for the stars.

That might mean that I was too blind to see they were fake.

Or, it could be the other way around. Who said that crown was real? Maybe it meant the other precept was in play: Glory is an empty cup. Do not grasp for it.

If that was the one, then saving the hostages was the only way.

But even if I knew that was true, I couldn’t save them both. Not in time. Maybe that was why Apeq was going for the crown.

It was possible he was just that cold-hearted, but it might be that he had seen there was no way to win if he tried to save the people he loved. Maybe that convinced him to go for the crown.

I wished there was two of me. Then I wouldn’t have to pick.

I reached the top of the ladder and nearly slipped with surprise when a hand reached down and clasped mine to help me up.

Chapter Seventeen

“YOU WASTED A WISH ON me?” My mimic said with a laugh. “You could have wished for money or at least a hot meal but no, you picked a second you. Smooth move, Tor.”

I could send him for the crown and I could hedge my bets – then we could win either way. That’s what I should do. I should save someone, and I should send him to make sure that at least me and that person lived.

But I couldn’t do that. In my mind’s eye, my friends were already swooning from the heat, burning their lungs with molten air.

I couldn’t let that happen.

“Shut up and run,” I said through my gasping breath. “You get the girls and I will get Saboraak.”

His face sobered and with a nod, he ran – faster than me because I was already winded. I loped on in my direction, racing across the platform, my breathing ragged and my muscles aching. Everything felt hotter than it had before I started. Everything seemed to be swimming before my bleary eyes.

I reached the next ladder and began to climb, focusing on the rungs so I didn’t slip. One false move and I would plummet to my death. Fifty paces away, the mimic scaled his own ladder – ahead of me, but not by much. I wouldn’t have thought to wish for him. I didn’t think it. Somehow the wish had just been there.

It had better be what I needed.

Apeq was hurrying, too. I could see him through the blowing smoke that puffed and spread between the ladders and platforms. He was getting close to the chain that held the crown – if I’d guessed wrong, he could win at any moment.

I reached the next platform and scrambled up, my feet kicking as I struggled to reach the top. There. I was running again.

And the next few minutes were only that – coughing blood, breathing through ragged lungs, and running or climbing harder and faster than I’d ever thought possible. I was up one ladder and rushing across a platform, then up again. I kept an eye on the mimic. We were level with each other, each hurrying with my single-mindedness and competitive spirit, each looking frequently at Apeq who was scrambling slowly along a long metal arm to reach the dangling chain from which the crown hung.

I could barely believe it when I reached the arm that held Saboraak’s cage. I’d done it! I was here!

It was different than the crown. I wouldn’t have to climb down the chain – not if I could use the crank that was lowering it down. I studied the mechanism and then pulled a lever. There was a loud clunk and the lowering ceased. So far, so good.

I grabbed the handle for the crank and was almost lifted off my feet as the chain whipped through the crank and the cage plummeted toward the lava. With a grunt, I threw the lock back on. One set of arms was not enough to crank up a chain that holds a dragon. There were pulleys involved and mechanical helps, but once I freed the mechanism, I couldn’t hold it.

Far away, I heard the high-pitched squeak of the mimic working the pulley where he was. It was lighter with only the two girls. Still heavy, but lighter.

Maybe I should try climbing down the chain. I fumbled with the lever while I searched for Apeq.

He was at the end of the arm, his legs wrapped around the slender metal frame while his arms pulled the chain up hand over hand. The crown was close.

Come on, Tor! Now is not the time to second-guess!

I leapt onto the arm and scrambled along the length of it. Don’t look down. Tor. Don’t look down.

Chain.

I grabbed it with naked hands, almost wishing I’d asked for gloves instead of the mimic – imagine, using an infinitely precious wish on gloves! – and then I was sliding down the chain and landing on the roof of the cage. I was using the huge mechanism – a bar lock that spanned the entire height of the cage – to open the door. They hadn’t locked it. Why bother? That wasn’t the point.

Heat seared my hands and made my skin feel tight and angry.

I climbed to the edge of the swinging cage and glanced up. The other Tor was holding two sobbing girls, looking awfully pleased with himself. Good.

And Apeq ... Apeq was seconds from grabbing that crown.

I clenched my jaw and lowered myself over the edge of the cage, bracing against the searing heat, and swung into the cage.

Saboraak was motionless, her head lolling to the side. I bit my lip and fumbled at her chains.

“Hold on. Hold on, old girl!”

I grabbed the lock and it came apart in my hand. No time for shock. I threw it behind me.

The world went black.

Chapter Eighteen

I WAS ON THE BRANCH, holding the orb, the flames leaping around me like I was back in Vanika, like I was back in that hellish flaming city. The other Tor crouched beside me, a torrent of curses flowing from his mouth. I agreed with the sentiment, but they wouldn’t save us now.

“You,” Apeq A’kona growled from across the orb. “How could you stop me? I had the crown! I had the bracelets!”

He lifted his empty hands, fire reflecting in his eyes. It was in the leaves behind his head, dancing along the edge of the branches.

Smoke burned my lungs and I coughed violently. Beside me, mimic Tor doubled over in his own coughing fit. Our branch was on fire, too, bits of it raining down in flaming tongues in the air below, adding to the whirling inferno of fire that was the world beneath us.

I saw Gautm appear behind Apeq and then vanish again as if he couldn’t find his corporeal form.

We were all going to die.

“Look what you’ve done!” I growled at Apeq. “You’ve killed us all.”

“It shouldn’t have killed me,” he spat. The smoke was affecting him now, too. He drew a wicked dagger from the folds of his cloak as he coughed. “It should have just given me the crown. With the crown, I could have written the future.” He coughed. “And left this place behind.” This time he had to pause to fold double as he coughed. “I was supposed to be the last one to enter this place!”

“But I was already here,” I said, understanding dawning.

He’d been a fool with his wish and now here we were. Together, again. Oh, the irony.

But if Apeq’s life was ended here, that could only be a good thing. Even if it meant that I would die, too.

At least the people in the vision hadn’t been real. At least they were okay somewhere.

“Or already dead,” the mimic said aloud. I gave him a dirty look.

“One of us should have won,” Apeq said, spinning around on our perch above the flames as if he could change that now. As if someone would emerge from the flames with a crown. He was crazier than I’d imagined.

“Sucking souls out of people will do that to you,” my mimic remarked.

I began to laugh. My feet hurt. The flames were already licking through my leather boots. My legs were on fire.

I threw back my head and laughed.

I didn’t regret my choice to save my friends. Not at all. At least I wasn’t the idiot here still expecting a reward ... still expecting to live.

Ha!

“And you get to die with me,” the other Tor said. “Which isn’t the worst fate. They say some people never know themselves, but that can’t be said of you!”

We both got our wishes. Apeq was going to kill all the Ko Bearers – me and him included. I wasn’t going to die alone.

Pain seared through me, scalding my skin, lashing at my exposed limbs.

I didn’t scream.

I just laughed. I let the madness take me.

Chapter Nineteen

AND THEN, SUDDENLY, I was being ripped off the branch and through a cloud of sparks.

Something gripped my midsection.

Flames spouted in gusts around us and then cold air sped icy hot across my seared flesh while beneath me the world burned. I thought, perhaps, that the flames on my legs had gone out, though the pain remained, burning, burning, burning forever.

I sped through a billowing black cloud and up, up, up to where my blackened lungs could hardly take a breath. I wasn’t breathing at all, just gasping.

There was a ring around the sun. A ring I didn’t understand.

I was hallucinating. Clearly.

I almost thought that I could hear Saboraak speaking to me.

Perhaps I was joining the ranks of the dead in the world beyond.

Perhaps she would be there.

I felt tears prick my eyes at the thought. Oh. There was still water in my body. What a surprise.

I’m right here, trout. And for the record, I’ve never been fond of the taste of burnt fish, so please try not to die in my mouth.

Someone’s voice called urgently from above – someone female and worried and then we dove.

My eyes were heavy. I couldn’t see. I was probably dreaming. I should just close them and let the darkness take me.

Don’t die, Tor! Don’t die! I told you we should have looked up at the top first!

The female voice retorted, coughed violently, and then the world was suddenly darker and cold as ice. My body began to shake, I fell into the icy depths, and was still.

Ah, sweet cold. Sweet, burning cold. I shivered in the rags that were left of my clothing.

Hold on. We’ll get you a blanket. I didn’t anticipate all your clothes burning off.

There were footsteps and then someone was dragging me onto her lap as her hot tears splashed across my face. Something warm wrapped around me. The blanket?

Her cloak.

Silver tattoos wound across her exposed wrists as she wiped something from my face. Ko. On a girl. How strange.

I see death didn’t erase that prejudice. You know girls can have ko, too, right? At least we know it’s the real you. I could have sworn that I saw two of you and I wasn’t sure which one to grab.

My mimic. Where was he?

“Don’t die on me, Tor Winespring,” Zyla growled, her tears still spilling onto my face. “Saboraak and I won’t allow it!”

Zyla. It was Zyla who rescued me? Zyla who wore the ko?

“Don’t die on me!” she demanded. “Not when I think I might be losing my heart to you.”

Well, I really couldn’t die now!

Dragon Chameleon: Chase the Moon

Chapter One

THE MIMIC WAS LAUGHING at me again. I’d followed him through a barren landscape, running from fires that popped out of nowhere and fleeing windstorms and floods that nearly swept us away. We were looking for Zyla. We were looking for Zin. We were hunting Saboraak. And through it all, he laughed at me, mocked me, taunting me with my frailness. I dreamed fitfully and fiercely and for so long that it felt as if I had been sleeping for days but never resting.

My eyes popped open, startling me.

Bright light pierced through them, searing my vision. My head exploded in pain, but I didn’t have the strength to lift a hand and hold my throbbing head. My eyes adjusted slowly, and my painful breathing steadied. How long had I been lying here? How long had I been dreaming?

Had I really been snatched from the flames by Saboraak’s jaws?

Yes.

Saboraak! Her voice was like balm to my mind. I’d missed it. The mimic was a terrible companion compared to my dragon.

I’m here, trout. She sounded nervous, though.

“Of course, she sounds nervous. She’s watched you lie here and dream for five days now,” my mimic said, running a hand through his dark hair. “And you aren’t much to look at.”

Are you okay, Saboraak? I was so worried!

The Kav’ai healed me of my wounds and I am whole again. She still sounded guarded.

“She doesn’t trust you anymore,” the mimic said. “That’s the thing about friends. Eventually, they always find out who you are and stop trusting you.”

“Shut up,” I told him. The back of my hand felt hot, as if his words had seared me.

My vision was clearing. I was lying on a pile of blankets in a shallow cave – long and low and cut into yellow stone. Outside the cave, in the glaring sun, Saboraak sat like a watchful sphinx, but her gaze was not on the world outside. Her eyes were focused directly on me, concern filling them.

Why was she looking at me like that? Maybe it was the face tattoos I’d picked up through the Ko’tor’kaen. Were they hideous?

Those can only be seen in moonlight, remember?

Then what? Why are you looking at me like that?

You went through a lot in the Trials.

That wasn’t a reason to look at me like I was crazy. Hadn’t I saved everyone? Hadn’t I done everything it took to get them all out before Apeq destroyed the World of Legends? That was the compassion and dedication she was always harping on. She should be pleased with me.

At least I wouldn’t have to deal with Apeq again. At least he was gone forever.

“Don’t be too sure,” my mimic said. “He’s too much like you to die that easily.”

Saboraak shifted uneasily. Why was she so nervous about me? I could barely move. I was weak as a newborn kitten and even if I could move, I would hardly hurt my dragon.

Tor, I have something terrible to tell you. Please, understand that I won’t leave you. I will stay by your side until the end. I will help you remember who you are, and I will make sure that you don’t harm yourself. I care about you like a brother and I always will.

I sat up, almost hitting my head on the low cave roof. What was she talking about? What had happened behind the Door of Heaven? Had I lost my legs?

I patted the blanket in front of me and then pulled it aside. Two legs – naked except for my underthings, and glassy in places where burned skin was healing, but they were there. I wiggled my toes and they moved easily. They should be in a lot worse shape after the burning I’d had!

That was five days ago. And the Kav’ai have talent with healing.

I’d lost five days? So, my mimic hadn’t been lying. What had happened in that time?

We’ve all been resting, eating, and waiting for you. I haven’t gorged like that in a long time. There is a large lizard here that is surprisingly tasty.

“You won’t find me eating lizards,” the mimic said. I agreed with that.

My hands and arms were fine. They moved exactly as I asked them to. I examined them closely, my jaw clenching at the scar on the back of one of my hands. It looked almost exactly like one of those doorways had been branded into my skin with a blazing iron. It must have been a trick of the tragedy. A strange coincidence of my injuries there.

I was fine. Healing, but fine. I breathed out through my open lips in a gust of relief. She’d had me worried there for a minute.

“You don’t need to worry, old girl,” I said with a laugh. “See? I’m fine!”

I let the blanket fall, eased myself from the cave to stand in the blazing sun. It was warm here and my bare skin broke out immediately in a sheen of sweat. It felt good after so many weeks in the cold.

“Except that you look like a plucked chicken with those skinny, bare legs,” my mimic said with a shudder. “Stop embarrassing us and cover those up!”

“I thought I told you to shut up,” I growled at him.

Saboraak reared back.

There’s no easy way to say this, Tor.

Say what?

The problem is not with your body.

That made me nervous.

It’s with your mind. You left the World of Legends insane. Her mental voice ached with compassion. Please don’t panic. I will stay with you and tend you through your insanity. I’ve already told the others. They are ready to receive you as you are.

Whoa. Wait.

“There’s been a misunderstanding,” I said, trying but failing to laugh. Instead, the laugh came out a strangled squeak. “I’m sane as you are, Saboraak!”

Tor, her tone was gentle. I can hear you speaking to yourself. You argue back and forth. And you are not very kind to yourself. You were doing it in your dreams, but now you do it in the waking world.

She could hear the mimic!

“That’s not me, Saboraak. That’s a mimic. A thing from the Trials.”

If it was from the Trials, Tor, then why is it still here? The Trials are over. You won.

“Because they told me it would last! I wished for him to last.”

You wished for insanity?

It sounded strange now that I said it out loud. “I needed two of me to save all of you. So, I wished for two of me.”

But there is only one of you, Tor. The other one is an illusion in your own mind.

He looked pretty real to me. He was lounging on a rock with his arms crossed behind his head, dressed head to toe in close-fitting black and wearing a wide hat against the sun. If I was going to convince Saboraak that I wasn’t insane, then I was going to have to ignore him.

“Good luck with that.” I’d never noticed what a truly mischievous face I had before I met the mimic. Every line of his face looked like he was teasing me, even when he was serious.

I could ignore him. I’d start right now.

If you are really sane ... She sounded uncertain about that. If you are, then Kyrowat needs you right away. Hubric is practically bursting.

“No rest for the weary!” The mimic’s laughter echoed through my mind until a voice cut through it.

“Tor?”

Chapter Two

ZYLA! I’D ALMOST FORGOTTEN about how she’d saved me.

I scrambled around, looking for clothing. She couldn’t see me like this! She made me uncomfortable enough when I was fully clothed! I grabbed the blanket from the ground, wrapping it quickly around my waist and legs.

When I looked up, she was standing in front of me with her arms crossed and a smirk on her pretty face. See mimic, she doesn’t seem to mind my chicken legs!

My mimic snorted.

Saboraak stood nervously behind her like a mother worried her baby would fall over after taking his first steps. She really did think I was crazy.

Just relax. I’m going to take care of you.

I nearly rolled my eyes.

And I’m asking Kyrowat to give you a moment to speak to Zyla. She’s been watching over you these past few days like a mother with only one hatchling.

“Did I dream it, or did you save me from the fires?” I asked after the moments dragged out.

Zyla licked her lips nervously. She was twisting her hands together like she was nervous to speak to me.

She was dressed oddly in a leather half-shirt that covered the top half of her torso and the bottom half of her arms. A loose white blouse covered the tops of her arms and went from beneath her ribcage to just below her hips. Thick leather belts crisscrossed over waist and hips, cinching and accentuating her small curves. Wide, voluminous pants tucked into low leather boots.

I recognized the costume as Kav’ai and now that I was tasting the heat of the desert for myself, I could finally understand the practicality of it all. A wide, lightly woven yellow scarf wrapped around her head and hair, keeping the sun from beating down on her.

I could feel the intensity of the heat even more strongly than I had a moment ago.

“I couldn’t leave you like that,” she said, her huge eyes bright gold in the yellow sun. “Would you have left me to die that way?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why would you think I would leave you, Tor Winespring? You aren’t the only person who can accomplish things, you know! You aren’t the only one who can be heroic.”

She crossed the rest of the way to where I was and planted her palm on my chest, fingers spread out. I swallowed at the feel of it against my chest, knowing she could feel every beat of my heart. Something like lightning shot through me. Magic?

“If you mean the magic of a pretty woman touching you, then sure, it’s magic!” my mimic mocked. I ignored him.

Zyla shoved me backward and I let her. With her hand on my chest, I might let her do anything.

“Don’t you have the sense to stay out of the sun?” she asked with a sniff.

I felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Why was she so irritated? She was as bad as the mimic. Girls. They made no sense at all. I was trying to thank her, and I ended up feeling like I needed to apologize.

There wasn’t much room in the small cave, but I ducked inside. She followed me in and any relief I felt from the glare of the sun was suddenly lost as all my blood rushed to the surface of my skin. I could feel my cheeks on fire. I felt as hot as when I’d been on fire in the World of Legends. I felt like I might burn to ash.

“She’s not that pretty. Get a hold of yourself,” the mimic said.

I ignored him. He didn’t know what he was talking about. She was that pretty – or that something. Focused, maybe. Or intense. Or something that made my heart pound.

Zyla looked like she might explode from wanting to say something. She sat, tense as Saboraak, her hands almost shaking with emotion. She had a water skin in them and a stack of clothes.

“Are those for me?” I asked.

“Here,” she said, shoving them at me almost like she was relieved to be rid of them.

I opened the waterskin and drank long and deep. The water was body-temperature – too warm to be truly enjoyable – but I was thirstier than I’d realized. I gulped down mouthful after mouthful as Zyla watched me and I felt my cheeks heating. Her gaze lingered over every part of me as if she was looking for something.

It wasn’t just that the sun glowed on her flawless brown skin or that her black curls seemed to be a symbol of the mystery of her – a girl who curled and tangled so much that she was impossible to predict. It wasn’t just the kind of courage it would have taken for her to mount Saboraak and demand to be carried back into the World of Legends.

That’s exactly how it went! You should have seen her! She screamed in my face as if I didn’t want to go back as badly as she did. As if you weren’t my life, too!

‘Too.’ Saboraak had said, ‘too,’ implying that somehow, I was life to Zyla. I shied away from the thought. I was no woman’s life.

I literally just said that you are my life. And I am female.

That’s different. That’s a magic that binds our lives together. You wouldn’t have chosen me if you had a choice.

I choose you now.

I stopped my train of thought. That needed acknowledging.

Thank you. That’s very sweet. And of course, I choose you, too.

But I’m thinking about Zyla right now. I’m wondering what it is about her that draws me in like a hummingbird to a flower and bids me bend my head and drink ...

I took another swig of room temperature water, trying to stall while I thought.

It was the fact that she’d come for me twice. Once, down in the basement of the Bright Redemption. Once in the fires of the World of Legend.

She placed her hand on the doorway and demanded to be marked and then leapt on to my back and we flew through the door ...

It was that she searched for me in those fires until she found me and whisked me away.

We almost died in there. We were out of time. The whole world was on fire.

It was also that, even now, she was facing me bold as a lion, her jaw set and her chin high and those glorious eyes so bright and big and ... worried. As if she was afraid of what I would say. As if I had the power to say something that would break her.

“Why do you keep coming to rescue me?” I said aloud.

“Why do you keep acting like you don’t need to be rescued?” she demanded.

When had I ever done that? I just looked after myself. If everyone looked after themselves it would be easier for all of us.

“I guess I should be thanking you,” I said more aggressively than I intended. I’d meant to thank her – I really had – but somehow, she always got my back up.

“Maybe you should be!” I loved the challenge in her eyes. I loved the way that they refused to flinch away from me no matter what I said. “But you’re still angry about before when I didn’t save my sister first,” she said, bitterness filling her voice. “You said things ... ”

Her voice trailed off.

I still didn’t know how I felt about her choices when she was spying. I still didn’t know how I felt about her choice to save me instead of Zin. I didn’t like those choices.

“I’m not used to people needing to rescue me,” I said. And it was true, even if Saboraak was snorting in my head and the mimic was all-out laughing like I was the world’s biggest jester. I felt heat rushing to my cheeks again and the scar on my hand burned hot. Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely true, but it was still better than having to say the one thing I hated saying most of all.

She pulled back from me a little, her actions wary, like she was waiting to hear something.

“I was just trying to do the right thing,” she said, practically vibrating with some emotion I couldn’t read. “I’m always just trying to do the right thing – the faithful thing – the smart thing. But sometimes you can’t do everything. Sometimes it just doesn’t work like that. Sometimes you have to make painful choices and watch how they play out.”

She wanted absolution. Like I was the one who decided those things. But that wasn’t up to me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, speaking the magic words I thought everyone wanted to hear.

“That’s not what I want to hear,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re terrible with women,” my mimic said, and I felt Saboraak’s agreement in our bond. Great. Just great. They were ganging up on me.

I scrubbed my hand through my hair awkwardly.

“Then what do you want to hear?” I asked. She looked so small and vulnerable. She could have been her sister in that moment. Where was the lion who pulled me from the flames? Where was the girl who kissed me and then fled into the arms of my enemy? Where was the defiant glare, the angry frown?

“When you were being judged in the Ko’tor’kaen what did you want to hear?” she asked, question for question. Her voice trembled. But why did she hide what she wanted instead of just saying it? It was as if admitting whatever it was would make her too vulnerable.

And I knew that feeling. I preferred to admit nothing. But something about what she said stuck in my mind.

“Wait ... you knew that was me? Didn’t you think I was Bataar?”

She laughed scornfully. “As if I can’t tell you apart from Bataar! Be serious.”

Those anxious looks. Those longing, worried, obsessive looks ... those had been for me?

My lips parted and the words tumbled out in a rush.

“That you matter. That your trying matters. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?”

She leaned forward. I must have done something right. Her lips were parted, trembling with every breath in a way that made me swallow and lick my own lips. She was smarter than I was. She was more capable. What did she care what I thought? And yet she did.

“Yes.”

I wasn’t the forgiving type. But if I could forgive myself for all my failures, couldn’t I forgive her, too? After all, it wasn’t up to me. I didn’t make those judgments. Except for inside my own mind.

And I realized, suddenly, that I wanted to give her anything she ever wanted.

“You do, you know,” I said, huskily. “You matter to me.”

“I just want everyone to be safe,” she said in that deep feminine voice of hers. It was like she was still begging for justification. Like I had it to give to her. “I just want to keep them safe.”

“Skies and stars,” I said, reaching up to brush her hair from where it had fallen over her eye. My hand lingered there, brushing her cheek lightly. I was afraid to touch her more. Afraid she’d pull away and run. “That’s all I want, too.”

Caring about her was a gamble. She was more dangerous than an angry dragon. But I was nothing if not a gambler, right? And the way she was looking at me, like she was begging me to heal her somehow – to snatch her out of her own fires the way she’d snatched me out of one. I couldn’t leave her like that.

I leaned down, not waiting to think it through, not waiting to weigh my options, just seizing the opportunity. I wrapped an arm around her firmly and kissed her. After all, she’d kissed me first after that golem. I couldn’t let her do all the kissing.

She kissed me back so passionately that I almost drew back, but I held my ground even as my eyes widened at her searching hands skimming across my skin. That was Zyla for you – a whirlwind in a woman’s body. A pure force of will and determination. She couldn’t be mine any more than the moon could be. And yet, I wanted her.

I kissed her back, not worrying about what had come before, not thinking about what would come after, just grateful for what we were sharing for that one moment.

When she was finished – and it was definitely her who decided we were finished – she straightened, quickly tidying her hair and smoothing her clothes while my suddenly empty hands still grasped for her.

She gave me a brief smile and shoved the clothes she’d brought into my hands.

“You should put those on. Everyone will be here soon. They want to see how insane you really are.”

I couldn’t stop the grin that played around my lips and lit my eyes. If this was what insanity brought, I could live with being insane.

Watch it! That’s not healthy talk.

I could be more insane than anyone!

Seriously, you’re worrying me.

Chapter Three

I SHRUGGED ON THE LOOSE breeches and low leather boots, fumbling with the many buckles that attached to the wide belt. It spanned from low on my hip bones to the bottom of my rib-cage – thick and with so many straps, knife sheaths, and pouches that it boggled a man’s mind the first time he tried to put it on. There was some sort of harness attached and I fought to settle it over my shoulders and chest on top of the thin white shirt that went with it.

A soft pair of hands tugged the straps from me.

“Let me,” Zyla said softly, weaving the straps around my body like she’d been dressing full grown men her whole life. She eased the knife holster between my shoulder blades, as she worked on the other straps.

I felt my cheeks heating at the thought of what we must look like.

“She’ll get a bad reputation if anyone sees her with you – but that would be true whether you were dressed or undressed,” my mimic said. He was still sleeping under his wide-brimmed hat. He couldn’t possibly be watching. “I’m you, remember?”

When Zyla was finished with the straps, she wound a light scarf around my shoulders and neck and then she traced my arm down to the burn mark on the back of my hand. “They healed most of your wounds with magic, but the scars remain.”

I wasn’t too worried about that. Scars were just proof you’d lived through an adventure. I flexed my hand.

“Still works just fine,” I said. “What about you? Were you hurt in the fire?”

She met my eyes with a small smile. “Not by the flames.”

“And you have Ko now, too.”

She snorted. “Not that it will do any good. The World of Legends is gone. The Doorways of Heavens only serve to take a person place to place now. They won’t work to take you to the World of Legends. The Ko’Torenth thought they were markings for their heads of house and to access the judgment power of the ko’tor’kaen, or at least that’s how they used them. The Kav’ai knew what they really were. They knew that the Ko accessed the Trial in the World of Legends. They gave all the Ko Bearers the chance to be the Chosen One. And now you bear the marks of their Chosen One. As long as you are alive, no one else can wear those marks.”

“Oh.” I ran a hand through my hair awkwardly. “If it helps, I didn’t mean to get all marked up.”

“It does not help,” she said coolly. “But now that you have the marks, you will have to live up to them. These people – the Kav’ai – they are yours now.”

“I’m a spy,” I said.

“I’m afraid that you are more than that now.”

“I’d have to agree,” a deep voice said. Hubric stepped from around the rocky hillside, his hands full with a leather sack. A baleful-looking Kyrowat followed him, flaming idly at any flies who dared to circle his old head.

I couldn’t hold him off any longer.

“Hubric! You’re alive!”

I hurried toward him, pausing when we were a few strides apart. I couldn’t exactly embrace the old man. The thought of that felt strange.

“You look ridiculous just standing there,” my mimic said.

What is wrong with you, Tor? Just hug him!

Saboraak and the mimic. Two voices in my head – two opinions about how to live. It was the worst when they agreed.

I still don’t believe this mimic is a real thing. I think you should ignore it and it will go away.

“I’m not going anywhere,” the mimic said from under his hat. I wanted a wide-brimmed hat like that.

“Of course, I’m alive. I don’t die easy,” Hubric said gruffly. “I can hardly believe you are, though. You couldn’t have made a worse mess of things, boy.”

I threw my hands up defensively. “Hey, I wasn’t supposed to have to do this on my own and I wasn’t supposed to be hunted by Magikas. Where was your contact?”

“Looking for you! Did you see a man in blue searching throughout Ziu for you?”

The man in blue! I had noticed him, but I had thought he was one of Shabren’s men.

“How was I supposed to know that was my contact?”

“He would have told you if he ever caught up to you! But no, all I hear about is leaps from the heights of the mountains, tangling with the Midnight Artificers, and getting Zin and Zyla Cloudbender in so much trouble that they almost died! On top of that, you first get marked hero, then King, then – worst of all! – the legendary Ko’roi. Do you know what that means?”

I gave him my most charming grin. “That you’re here to save me from all that?”

He rolled his eyes and shoved the leather sack at me. “Here. At least take your knives. How much of my gold did you lay out for these?”

“Enough.”

“At least you know good knives when you see them. There’s an axe in there, too. Maybe next time you can cut cables a little quicker than sawing them with a knife!”

I gasped. “You were awake for that?!”

Hubric frowned, but he looked a little guilty.

“Kyrowat told me about it afterward.” He cleared his throat. “Apparently I owe you thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said awkwardly as I slipped my blades in their holsters – including the tricky one between my shoulder blades.

“I won’t,” Hubric said with a frown but I could see a warmth under it. “Besides, there’s a lot more to do and not enough time to do it in. We need to fly – tonight.

“Tonight?”

“Apeq A’kona’s army marches south. The Magika camp you saw before has swollen to ten times the size and the testing they are doing in that camp – explosions, flames, earth-shaking magic – well, they’re planning war. There’s no other way to see it.”

I swallowed. My mouth felt dry already, despite the water.

“So, nothing we did mattered.”

“Ha!” Hubric’s laugh was grim. “Nothing mattered? Don’t sell yourself short. Zyla has a list of the traitors south of the border. Who they are. What they plan. We have just enough time to stop their aid before the Dominion armies march north and the war begins – just enough time to stop a war, but we need you. With Saboraak’s shapeshifting ability, you can infiltrate any Dominion Sky City or Castel. And with Zyla’s information, we know which ones to infiltrate. I need to send you south. I would have sent you days ago if I could have.”

“Well, I would have woken right up if I knew you were sending me on holiday.”

Hubric snorted. “Sure.”

I’m ready!

My dragon was always eager to throw herself into trouble. Good thing I was the sane one in this partnership.

I’m not at all sure that’s true.

“But before we can do any of that, you’ll need to convince these Kav’ai to let you leave.” Hubric looked grim. “Things have been ... tense ... these last few days. They seem determined to keep you here. I guess finally getting their chosen one makes them a bit ... devoted.” He looked embarrassed, like he knew how they felt. But he’d never treated me like that, so who had he been embarrassingly devoted to? “You kept that book I gave you, right boy? Zin told me it was in your pockets after the fire. She tucked it into Saboraak’s saddlebags. Have you read it?”

It was my turn to look guilty.

“Read it!” the old man demanded. “But later. Right now, there are things that can’t be kept waiting much longer. Follow me. And tuck those daggers away where they aren’t flashing in the sun like fishing lures!”

Chapter Four

THE CAVE HAD LED ME to believe that Kav’ai was a primitive place, but as Hubric led me down the dusty path around the side of the bluffs, my breath was stolen away.

The path was steep, a narrow trail that was challenging for a human and would have been impossible for a dragon if it weren’t for their flapping wings to help them keep their balance. Hubric, Zyla and I led the way, flanked by Kyrowat and Saboraak. The mimic was probably around somewhere, too, but unlike me, the laws of this world didn’t seem to affect him.

“Because I’m only in your mind,” he whispered, “a product of your insanity.”

I wanted to growl at him to go away, but that would only add to people’s suspicions about me. Instead, I kept a smooth smile on my face and followed Hubric’s sure footsteps as we rounded the edge of the steep hill to where it fell into rocky bluffs – still yellow and dusty – and then dropped into a wide green river basin, where the snaking river was rimmed with trees, grass, and so many birds that they boggled the mind.

“Welcome to Kav’ru,” Zyla said, her voice full of wonder. “One of the Clan cities of the Kav’ai. Bataar’s people lay claim to this place.”

“But they will only keep it if they can,” Hubric said with less wonder. “And that slim hope grows slimmer now that Bataar has failed the test.”

“It doesn’t make sense that he failed it,” I said. “He is the perfect Kav’ai. He respects their precepts. He believes in their ways. I am none of those things.”

Hubric snorted. “Of course, you aren’t. Do you think we’re fools? We know who you are. But apparently, the Ko Bearers who went before you were tricked by your wiles and chose you to represent them. Which is going to be a problem for us. We need you to go south. Tonight.”

“There was no talk about me representing anyone,” I said grimly as we began to descend into the bowl. “There was only talk of sacrifice and something about weaving a future.”

“Do you know how to weave the future?” Hubric asked, giving me a curious look.

“Not yet,” I admitted.

He nodded. “Then don’t worry about it. We can only deal with the problems we know.”

The steps we were on led to a ledge where Zin and Bataar stood waiting. I glanced at them and then back behind me at Saboraak and Kyrowat and the strangest warmth came over me. Perhaps I needed that hat worse than I thought. No, it was something more. Something like belonging maybe or loyalty or ... something.

The word that you are looking for is family.

That couldn’t be right. I’d never had a family.

You have one now.

I’d wanted a family all my life. My eyes ran over each of them – even Bataar, who I didn’t like – looking to make sure they were well and whole.

You don’t have to like family.

What did you do with a family when you had it?

Protect it.

I could do that. I would definitely do that.

We joined Bataar and Zin on the platform and he spoke first. He was avoiding looking at me. As if that would change anything. I hadn’t asked to take his place and I wasn’t going to – not if I could help it.

“The Elders wish to see the Ko’roi in their clan meeting. Only Ko Bearers are invited.”

His head hung down as he spoke and I noticed Zin reach out and touch his shoulder, like she was showing him support. What for? Wasn’t he glad not to have to be the “Ko’roi” or the chosen one of his people? He ran away from home, he wanted to avoid it so badly. He did everything he could to avoid the Trials.

“Avoiding something and failing at it are two different things,” my mimic said. He was leaning against the rock wall examining his nails. “You know that. You avoid a lot of things, but you rarely fail at anything.”

I’d failed at this. I never wanted to be anyone’s chosen one.

“Well, if you had failed, then your friends would have all died and I remember something about how that was oh so important to you. Important enough to give me a permanent voice in your head.”

He flashed his grin, letting his dimples show and his green eyes dance – they were crooked – a fact I had missed all these years – but I fiercely ignored him. One of me in my head was enough work.

We can take you to Haz’drazen, Saboraak assured me. She can cure many mental illnesses. I will keep you close until you can go to her. Until then, you should ignore that voice. He is only your damaged brain sending up unworthy thoughts.

I had a feeling that whatever these Elders wanted from me, an extended vacation to the dragon lands probably wasn’t it.

I laid a hand on Hubric’s shoulder. “Don’t leave without me.”

He smiled. “I don’t plan to. But it’s up to you to talk sense into this lot, or you’ll end up tied to these people tighter than a cinch strap on a dragon saddle.”

I nodded. I was going to have to think this through – not my usual style. I preferred to wing things and hope I figured them out on the fly. I’d have to be careful. These people had tangled Bataar up in knots and if I wasn’t careful, they’d do that to me, too.

Hubric joined Zin and the dragons on the ledge with a last comment. “I’ll saddle the dragons and prepare supplies for the journey. Don’t take too long.”

Zin waved shyly to me, but she followed Hubric without a word. She was a mystery to me. Hopefully, whatever happened next, I could keep her out of danger.

Bataar led us down a branching staircase silently. I could feel waves of bitterness washing off of him. Well, if he wanted to be angry, he could be. I’d done what I had to do to save everyone – him included. I’d never meant to take what was his. And I wasn’t going to apologize for it now, either.

Bataar chose a path down with sharp steps that seemed less worn than the others and then, when the side of the mountain turned into a tunnel and the path grew darker, he seized a lit torch from the wall and led us into the darkness.

I was sick of stairs. If I ruled a country, I’d make everything be on ground floor. No more stairs. No more ladders. No more climbing at all.

A very inconvenient design for dragons.

Saboraak could be in charge of designing the dragon portion. And it could be any way she liked. I owed her.

I could get used to that.

We were silent as we went, just Zyla, Bataar and me. Even though I couldn’t see our Ko without the moonlight, I could feel an itch where they usually shone. We were going to be grilled by these elders because of the Ko – something I’d never even asked for.

We turned a corner through the cavern and Bataar paused above a massive, golden bowl carved into the mountain. He set his torch in the bracket and stepped out on a wide ledge over the bowl. There was no need for torches here.

Below us, seated on benches were men and women dressed just like Bataar. They could have been his family they looked so much like him.

They were shaded by the cavern from the beating sun, but someone had drilled holes in the ceiling and walls of the cavern and here in the bowl, it was bright as a calm morning. A small pool of water stood in the center of the room. The rock – which rippled like lapping water – met the edge of the pool smoothly and a tiny trickle on the far wall of the bowl fed the little pool. The water made the whole room feel cooler.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t realized how hot and dry the outside sun had left me. My ease was short-lived.

Bataar shoved me forward, still not looking me in the eye and as the voices below died off, he spoke loud and clear.

“I present to you, your sacrifice! The Ko’roi.”

Great. Nicely worded, Bataar.

Chapter Five

THE ELDERS STARED IN silence and then one stood, her billowing clothing making her appear bigger than she actually was.

“I am Ala daughter of Eda, daughter of Itam. This is the Bowl of Memory and all who enter it enter the memories of the people. We see the marks of memory upon you and we acknowledge them.”

What did she mean?

There are marks on your face.

Very helpful, Saboraak, but they should only see those under the moon!

Ummm ... did I forget to mention that you have new ones? Ones that can be seen in the sun?

“If magical things don’t stop marking up my body there is going to be retribution!” My mimic said, staring at my forehead with squinting eyes. “I’ll smash them all to smithereens! I’ll burn them all and dance on their ashes! I’ll – “

Don’t you at least want to know what they look like?

Yes!

They look like a crown around your forehead. They glow golden in the bright sun.

I was marked by both sun and moon.

If you hate them. You could probably cover them with a cloth tied around your forehead.

The mimic hated them more than I did. I just felt resigned. I was never going to be able to slink through a town unnoticed again. Not at night and now, not even in the day. I was going to have to find one of those cloths quickly. Maybe Saboraak could ask Hubric to pack one.

If it silences that voice of insanity, then sure.

The silence of the elders had gone on for too long. They were clearly expecting me to say something. I cleared my throat awkwardly. I should give some sort of inspiring words or statement, but I decided to go for honesty first.

“Look, I definitely want to help you guys out, but the one you really need is Bataar. He knows your ways and your precepts and – ”

“No!” One of the other elders said. He looked exactly how I imagined Bataar would look in thirty years, though the sun had deepened his wrinkles to hard lines and wings of white wove through his hair above his ears. “The Trial alone chooses a Ko’roi. Where the Ko’roi goes and how he weaves the future are according to prophecy and judgment, but who Ko’roi will be is chosen by the Trials. Bataar Bayanen was not chosen. It is you who must lead us.”

I could feel anger from Bataar even though he was behind me. Seriously? I’d never asked for this!

Lead them? I didn’t even know them!

“The golden crown in the golden basin – a sign of our people!” One of the women said in a voice that bordered on rapt.

My mimic stood behind her, copying her adoring expression precisely.

Nope. This was exactly what I was trying to avoid. No one should feel rapt around Tor Winespring. No one should be expecting signs and prophecies fulfilled or people governed well. That could only lead to disaster and disappointment. I needed to test them to see how far this nonsense went. And I needed to word my questions carefully, so they didn’t find a way to trap me or to guess that I had no idea what I was doing.

“I have a responsibility to your people,” I said cautiously.

“Yes!” the rapt woman said and around her, there were murmurs of agreement. The scar on my hand felt cold as they spoke.

“And you know what that responsibility is.” Hopefully, they’d tell me!

“Responsibility,” my mimic mouthed from behind the Elder. I ignored him pointedly.

“You stand for the people,” the old man said immediately.

“He gives his whole self to our health,” the rapt woman said, her short gray-brown hair twitching with her quick movements. I already didn’t like her.

“He defends us from Ko’Torenth,” another man said, standing as he said it.

“He preserves our resources.”

“He settles disputes.”

“He represents the ancestors to us.”

“Anchors us.”

“Remembers our history.”

“Ends war.”

“Weaves the future.”

I’d lost track of who was saying what toward the end. The entire assembly was on their feet now, all eyes glued to me. That ridiculous doorway scar was freezing cold on my skin.

Skies and stars, that was a long list of impossible tasks!

My mimic was laughing. “That’s quite the list, Tor! I can see your lifespan shrinking with every one of those.”

I scrubbed a hand through my hair.  I had to be careful. There wasn’t much of a jump from “leader” to “sacrifice” in most people’s minds – after all, hadn’t Bataar called me a ‘sacrifice’? – and I didn’t want to end up thrown from a holy mountain or anything.

“A great privilege.” I was careful to speak slowly and keep any expression from my face, but inside I was screaming, ‘help!’ The scar on my hand burned with my words.

It’s an honor, Saboraak told me while my mimic doubled over in laughter. And I will help you honor it.

“I can’t accept so much honor without sharing it.” Maybe there was a way to wiggle out of this.

“We will be here to direct you every step of the way,” the rapt woman said, her eyes wide with faith.

Ah. So that was how it was. There were always people who wanted a leader, but none of them wanted to lead. They just wanted some poor soul to speak the words they chose and take the blame for the decisions they made.  If they thought that Tor Winespring was the fool for that job, then they could think again! I was going to wiggle out of this one way or another.

“I recommend running,” my mimic said. “It generally works for us.”

Not this time. I needed to be smart this time.

The first woman was watching me with care. “You seem unaffected by the madness your friend Hubric spoke of. He claimed your dragon was concerned.”

“I’m fit as a fiddle,” I said with a grin. “Sane as any of you.”

“Not that they seem very sane right now,” the mimic said. He was slowly circling the crowd, peering at people who couldn’t see him.

“He said you had to leave immediately to get help, but upon speaking to you, I think we need not worry,” the first woman said. I clenched my jaw. Hubric could have mentioned that. If he had, I could have wiggled out of this one a lot easier with a strong insanity plea. It might not have even been much of a stretch. The mimic was driving me crazy. “And you understand your responsibility to us? You understand that you have a choice right now to accept your responsibility or the darkness?”

“The darkness?” I asked. My skin prickled. Perhaps there was another option!

“Death,” she said simply, but with a small smile. Zyla gasped.

Yep. It always came to that. Do what we say, Tor – or die. See things our way – or die. Let us entrap you in our plans – or die. Well, it wasn’t going to be that way this time!

“I’ve never shirked my responsibility,” I lied, smiling as wide as I could. The scar on my hand felt hot. What was the deal with that thing? “And of course, I wouldn’t now.”

“We will have many years to teach you our ways,” she said with a smug expression.

“Actually,” I said, stepping up onto the top of one of the benches. “You’re going to need to tell me a few things pretty quickly because we’re working with a tight timeline here.”

I smiled at the confused looks around me – but this smile was genuine. There was only one way out of this trap. One last chance before they had me in a hold I could never leave alive – like a rabbit in the clutches of a constrictor snake.

“I need to be gone by nightfall. You said my responsibility is to prevent war, correct?”

There was a murmur that sounded like reluctant agreement.

“I can’t keep you whole or settle your disputes if we’re mired in a war – in fact, if I don’t prevent this war, there won’t be a Kav’ai to return to.” Now I let my voice grow hard. “I don’t think you want that. Tonight, I will fly from here with my dragon, Saboraak. Together, we will thwart the plans of your enemies. Ko’Torenth plans to take your resources and raze you to the ground. I have other plans.”

They looked uncertain, but I didn’t dare let them question me with specifics. I didn’t have any to offer them, just a desperate instinct to avoid being tied to a people I didn’t know and a fate I’d never bargained for.

“But don’t fear! I will not leave you without leadership.” I gestured to Bataar to join me. Reluctantly, with his mouth tight and body language angry, he stepped up to my bench. “I will leave Bataar – another Ko Bearer – to be my emissary to you while I am gone. He will fulfill the other parts of the bargain between us. He’ll settle disputes and remind you who you are while I prevent the war.”

There were more murmurs.

Bataar opened his mouth, his face red but I silenced him with a glare and the swipe of my hand.

“I will hear no objections. I stand for your ancestors as Ko’roi. Bataar, you are my choice. You will serve these people.”

He nodded, grim-faced. Ha! That’s what faith in precepts got you – responsibilities you couldn’t wiggle out of.

“Elders,” I said, letting my gaze pierce them – I didn’t dare show weakness, or they would run right over all my hopes. “You will be led by my emissary or feel my wrath. I am the future weaver. I will weave a future for you where there was none – but only if you heed my judgment on this. I leave tonight with my other allies.”

“But it is already past midday!” someone said.

“Then we must hurry.”

I leapt down from the bench, planning to rush away but a hand stopped me. The old man. The smart one.

“Can we not house your friends here?” he asked, a gleam in his eye. “Then they will be safe for when you return to us.”

“I’m afraid I need them with me,” I said breezily.

“At least one,” the man said, his hand squeezing on my shoulder.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Mynaar Bayonen, would you?” I asked.

“Yes,” the man said through his teeth and my heart sank. He was Bataar’s father and he’d figured out exactly what I was planning. “We’ll care for that friend of yours – Zin. Bataar tells me you are very attached to her safety. It would be a pity if she was in danger in her travels with you, don’t you think? And then, she will be here when you return to us.”

Our gazes met, and I knew exactly what he was saying. Either I left Zin here with him as a hostage, or he would destroy any hope I had of leaving here.

Bataar stood beside his father, but now he had concern in his eye and something else ... hope?

“Of course,” I said. What else could I say?

And I felt a weight sink onto my shoulders.

Chapter Six

I HADN’T BEEN ABLE to avoid the feast.

Hubric had. So, had the dragons and Zyla. Somehow, she was exempt from Ko Bearer activities now that a Ko’roi had been selected.

“What are you complaining about?” my mimic asked. “We haven’t eaten this good in ... well, in ever. No point going off chasing the moon on an adventure when there’s food to be eaten.”

He was right. I’d stuffed myself with fragrant goat cheese drizzled with honey and dried fruit so sweet it hurt my teeth. Flatbread filled with soft stringy meat in a spicy sauce came next and then a grain soaked in broth and butter and a flaky pie with a smooth filling that was both sweet and savory and ... I could go on. But I shouldn’t. In fact, I should have stopped eating about an hour in, but I couldn’t find the willpower to stop. Not now that I had so much food in front of me.

You’re going to make yourself sick. I took great care while you were healing to eat only what I needed. We can’t afford to be ill if we are going to save the world.

Saboraak, as always, took the sensible approach. The mimic and I were not quite so sensible. He’d been pushing me to eat more and more until my belly felt like it weighed more than the rest of me.

It probably does. How you expect to travel like that is beyond me.

I expected to travel happy. If these people were going to hold my friend captive – the least I could do was get the most food from them that I could. My gaze swiveled guiltily to Zin. She was sitting between the Elders receiving a woven scarf from Bataar for her head. She seemed pleased, but I knew she would put on a brave face no matter how she felt.

Bataar looked unnaturally happy. He still hadn’t spoken to me during the feast, but he spoke often to her and she smiled back at him. I hadn’t seen her say a single word. If he thought he could flirt with her, he should think again. I wouldn’t let anything hurt Zin – including boys who wanted to steal her heart.

Bataar means well. You should give him more credit. Besides, she will need someone to take care of her while we are gone.

I’d had to break the news to her before the feast.

“I have to leave you here,” I’d said, biting my lip as I waited for her to get upset. “The Elders want to get to know you.”

“For he shall be the weaver of the future, crowned by the sun and moon,” she said.

I scrubbed a hand through my hair awkwardly. “That was in there? Maybe you could give me a heads up about the next time the book says my life is going to be turned upside down.” My laugh sounded forced even to my ears. “Look, you should be safe, okay? I’ll keep the war from coming to you and Bataar seems to like you.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Yes, you’ll stay, or yes he likes you?”

“Both.” Her smile was devastating. I hated to leave her. But honestly, I couldn’t keep her safe where I was going anyway.

“Just take care, okay?”

She nodded and then Bataar had arrived and swept her away without looking at me. At least he would be a friend for her here – as much as that worried me.

She tells him things she doesn’t tell you. Things about the prophecies.

There was more than what she told me? Who would have thought?

She comforts him. He has a broken heart.

And an angry glare. But I didn’t have time to think about Bataar.

I didn’t talk to him at the feast, either. I should have been finding a way to leave with peace between us, but there just wasn’t time.

“Not if you want another serving of that meat,” my mimic hinted.

I stood up from my seat, stretching lazily as the happy sounds of people enjoying themselves surrounded me. The elders had thrown the feast under colorful canopies in the green valley. There were cliff faces nearby, but the valley was rich and green. Hundreds of people had come to eat together and celebrate. They must have already been preparing it while I was still recovering.

I could get used to these people if they didn’t want to make me their sacrifice or leader or future bearer or whatever. They seemed like a happy sort. They prepared a lot of food. They were singing. A few men were banging drums with their hands in a way that you would think would be irritating, but it was actually pretty soothing.  Yeah, I could get used to them.

“Which is why as the future weaver, the precepts are so important. You will use them to recreate a new world. Here – of course – the future of our peoples, but also in the World of Legends. It is destroyed, but it is up to you to reweave the whole of it.”

Oh yeah – except for Berun. That turned out to be the rapt Elder’s name and boy could she talk. She’d been following me around through the entire feast babbling about what it meant to be the future weaver. I smiled politely and nodded sagely when required but my mind was more on stopping a war than any kind of existential quest. And eating. My mind was definitely on eating.

“Just as you will reweave our culture at this time of crisis. As magic dwindles, another path forward must be found, and you must weave it for us. We have been disentangled from our brothers, the Ko’Torenth peoples. Perhaps you will weave us back together given enough time. As it was in the past so it will be again in the future, world without end.”

“Mmmhmm,” I said, as her sing-song tone rolled over me, but my eyes were searching for something. I’d heard a sound just now – an off-note in the middle of the party. A shift in the breeze. Something not right. I couldn’t pick out what it was, but my skin prickled in response and I climbed out from under the sheltering canopies and happy festivities into the blazing sun and the desert sands.

What had called me out? What had changed?

Something whizzed through the air above my head.

I ducked instinctually. Saboraak?!

It’s not me.

Fire blossomed across the canopy tops, lighting them aflame and then the screaming began.

Chapter Seven

“DUST STORM!” BERUN yelled. “Hurry to the caves!”

But there was more than a storm. I could see the dust devils whipping up around us, yellow dust swirling angrily as if the ground were attacking the sky. But the storm wasn’t the only thing in the air.

A dark shape had passed over us.

In the pavilions, chaos ruled as the Kav’ai fled their banqueting tables to the caves in the cliff walls close to the valley. Crying children clutched by frantic parents, young people helping the quavering elderly, warriors leading and pushing and cajoling to the people to flee – all rushing past me.

I was watching the sky.

“You must hurry, Ko’roi! There is a hiding spot not far!” Berun tugged at my arm.

I barely heard her. I could see the tiny black dot in the distance. Other black dots were joining it. I knew this enemy like I knew my own mind. I’d fought them. I’d been them.

Flying golems.

At least a dozen – maybe twenty. I had no idea that they produced so many already. I swallowed, ignoring the dust and the screams and the frantic tugging of Berun. The dust storm made it hard to see them well enough to count them.

I knew these well enough to know that we couldn’t fight them. Kyrowat and Saboraak could, but two dragons against twenty golems? I didn’t like those odds.

Go! I shouted through the bond to Saboraak. Take Zyla and Hubric and go!

They should be done loading by now. They should be ready.

We are ready for the journey, but we won’t leave you!

Leave! You must leave, Saboraak!

I can’t see you through the storm. Where are you? From the sky, everything is a swirl of dust.

I forced her from my mind. Maybe if I was distant, she would go as I asked. No need for all of them to die with me. I could feel what was going to happen next as if I was watching threads being woven into a pattern – though I could see nothing but swirling dust.

The golems were going to circle around in formation. They would fly low over the valley so that they could use their fire rods to flame the people fleeing them. Then they would assault the entrances to the caves.

I could see it all as clear as day. My hand pulsed feeling slightly cool again, and I looked down to see the doorway scar pulsing an eerie blue.

“Your mark, Ko’roi!” Berun said in awe. “What vision did you see? Whatever it was is truth. That’s what the pulsing means! Does it feel cool to the touch? It will feel hot if you are near a lie and cool if you are near the truth.”

So, we were definitely going to die?

“Seems like more of a curse to know that,” my mimic opined. He was leaning casually against one the posts of the pavilion.

He was the curse. Why had I wished him on myself?

“It was convenient for you at the time, and you’re not really the type to think things through.”

My gaze was searching for a way out. Any way out.

“We’ll be trapped in the caves,” I muttered.

“Not if we hurry,” Berun said, still pulling me.

The last people were leaving the pavilions – among them Zin and Bataar. Berun paused beside me.

“The people flee, they panic, but the chosen one is strong,” she said. “His path is clear and true. His way is set before him.”

“Lucky,” I muttered. If only things like that were as easy as they were in prophecy. If only there was some clear way to stop mechanical devils like that.

“He bars them in with walls of rocks. He finds their salvation.”

“If only there were walls of rocks,” I muttered.

“There are,” Berun said. “That’s why you have to hurry!”

“What?”

I finally looked at her. Those big, pleading eyes were full of something more than just fear.

“You heard her,” Bataar growled, turning to look over his shoulder at us. He and Zin lagged at the back of the fleeing crowd. “There’s a way to be safe if you don’t hold us all back with your delays!”

“Tell me,” I said, grabbing Berun’s hand and pulling her along with me.

Bataar and Zin were right in front of us. He helped her gently over the rocks, hurrying but still attentive. I couldn’t see the people fleeing before us. Only the last few were still visible in the swirling storm.

All my thinking had only taken minutes. We were just steps from the end of the crowd, only minutes behind the rest, though they were swallowed up by dust.

“We have fortified these caves over many generations. There are stores here. Enough to last a month,” Berun said, raising his voice.

“It’s too far to run!”

“There’s a doorway in the nearby cliffs.”

“You won’t last an hour with those things burrowing in!” I said.

“Well, we can – but that’s the difficult part,” Bataar said. “Someone needs to close the doors and that can only be done from the outside. And then, when the danger is passed, they must open them again. But they have to survive to do that.”

“How do you close the doors?” I asked. “And will they be strong enough to hold against such monstrous power?”

“Easily,” Bataar laughed bitterly. “They are carved of stone, a work of a generation. They slide into place – like the cover of a tomb. But that’s the problem. Anyone in there would be entombed – their only help a person from outside. How long do you think those golems will stay here waiting for us to come out? Days? Weeks? That’s how long the person outside would have to survive to open the doors. And until then, the Elders here would be cut off from the rest of our people. They would be leaderless. The Elders here are gathered from among all the people. They came to see me survive my Trial and rise to lead them.”

His voice was bitter.

“But couldn’t that person leave and come back again?” I asked. “Flee and return later?”

Bataar snorted. “If they flee, is there any guarantee they would return?”

“I wouldn’t,” my mimic said. “Those golems would set a trap for that person once they figured out what was happening.”

“How do you close the doors?” I asked.

“See that tall peak?” Berun asked, gesturing to a tower-like peak that rose over the place where I had woken earlier that afternoon.

“I do.”

“At the top of that peak is a hollowed cave and in the cave is a stone wheel. You turn the wheel to close the doors. To open – ”

Her words were lost in the violence of the wind as it beat us with sand and wind. It was so harsh it almost knocked me over.

As if the golems hadn’t been bad enough, now the desert was rising against us!

Could things get any worse?

Chapter Eight

I SQUINTED MY EYES against the beating wind. Bataar had raised his scarf – a dust veil, I realized now – and I quickly followed his movement, raising the dust veil I’d been given, too.

Berun could hardly keep her feet. I held her close, trying to take the brunt of the wind. Her old lungs struggled against the beating of wind and sand. Bataar had Zin tucked in to his own chest, almost carrying her against the push of the wind. We were side by side now, struggling against the onslaught.

“Is this normal?” I yelled over the wind.

“Nothing about this is normal,” my mimic said, chewing at a piece of fruit from the feast.

“No!” Bataar yelled over the wind. “The golems’ flight must have kicked it up – or maybe the magic that powers them. Dust storms happen, but usually, you can see them coming over the horizon or guess they will crop up when the sun shines on the sand a certain way.”

“I can’t see the others!” I yelled. I couldn’t hear Saboraak either. If she hadn’t already fled as I’d asked her to.

We’re caught in our own storm. I told you we would not leave without you.

You must, Saboraak. And that’s an order.

You can’t order me.

I think ... I think I can. I thought slowly. After all, if you accepted me as rider, you accepted me as the one to decide where we would go and what we would do. I think that means that if I really have to, I can order you. And I’m ordering you now. Go!

I pushed on, we were getting close to the caves – I thought -  climbing the stairs from terrace to terrace. I was mostly carrying Berun now. She hadn’t spoken for long minutes, though she continued to cough intermittently.

If the golems were firing down fire – and they probably were, then I couldn’t see it happening or hear the shouts of their victims. The storm raged too fiercely.

Bataar struggled beside me, carrying Zin now. The wind was too strong for anything else.

I felt the power of the golems overhead before I saw the fire flashing around us, but in the thick of the dust, they couldn’t find us.

Flame burst to our left, searing the landscape but missing us by a stone’s throw. I barely saw it in the storm. Another surge of flame swept the ground behind our heels. We didn’t stop. We hurried on, slowed by our burdens. My mouth was dry, my heart hammering, my lungs choking in the dust.

We needed a plan. The golems had one, but we were just running blindly forward – literally! That was no way to win.

“Bataar!” I called.

He kept his head ducked as he fought the wind.

“I’m sorry that I took your place.”

His eyes stared at me over his dust cloth.

“I’m busy, Tor! Or hadn’t you noticed we’re under attack!”

But what good would it be if we lost to the golems just because he couldn’t work with me?

“We need to work together to get them to safety!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he yelled over the wind. “These are my people, Tor. They are my responsibility, and those stupid tattoos of yours don’t make you their leader and they don’t make these your people.”

“Fine!” I agreed. Like I’d even wanted this. “But let me help!”

“Help how?”

“Let me close the doors for you!” I’d seen how he looked when we were speaking about it. I knew he was planning to do it himself.

“That is not your place!” he said, struggling through the dust. “These are my people.”

“Then lead them, you fool!”

His gaze met mine, fire and anger.

“Lead them in the caves,” I said. “Or do you want me in there talking to them? Telling them things from my perspective.”

“No!” his shout was easy to hear over the wind.

“Don’t they call me the sacrifice?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me sacrifice. You’ve seen me. If anyone can survive the unsurvivable, it’s me!”

His gaze was forward again. Focused on our path. We stumbled up another staircase and I tripped, barely catching myself. Berun was nothing more than a dead weight now. I dragged her past the impediment and almost fell a second time. I stared down and my heart fell.

There were bodies here, charred by flame, contorted horribly in their deaths. The dust storm must not have covered their flight as well as it had covered ours. I swallowed down bile. They hadn’t been fast enough. I hadn’t been fast enough. I should have guessed that the attack was coming.

“Because you’re all-knowing now,” my mimic laughed. “Add that to our list of talents!”

I had been unconscious for five days. Wherever we were, five days was a long time. A flying golem could fly without rest. Of course, they had found this place. Perhaps Apeq had even sent them before he entered the doorway. I still didn’t know how long we’d spent in there.

“Weeks, I’d guess,” the mimic said. He looked unruffled by the death around him, though his face was a bit pale.

We almost hit the rock wall before we realized what it was. Bataar threw up a hand before we hit it – a warning. As we sheltered against it, I checked Berun. Was she breathing? Barely.

Her head lolled and her voice was weak. I bent so my ear was close to her lips.

“Save us,” she gasped. “Save my people.”

“I’m trying,” I said grimly.

Her next breath was a rattle. I leaned in, trying to see if she still lived, but in the storm, it was too hard to tell – too hard to feel for breath when air streamed around us – too hard to feel for a heartbeat when we were buffeted by winds.

“Tor!” Bataar called and I hurried to where he stood. He’d found the door.

A pair of Kav’ai guarded it, swords held out as if they could fend off golems with pointed steel. Around them, bodies were piled on the ground. I tried not to look, but I saw a pair of eyes before I could look away and I turned to the side to throw up. There were people in that pile who shouldn’t be there. People who were family and friends to those within. Bodies too old or too small for such violence.

I shoved Berun into the arms of one of the guards with a curt, “Take care of her.”

Bataar paused in the doorway to the cave with Zin still in his arms. I reached for her, but he ducked away.

“She’s not yours, Ko’roi.”

“Not yours, either, last I checked.”

His eyebrows rose. “That could change.”

Interesting.

“You must keep her safe,” I challenged. “Promise me.”

“I owe you no promises,” Bataar said darkly.

“Promise.” My voice was low.

He looked away. “I’d never let harm befall her. But whether she survives depends on you, Ko’roi. Don’t you have a tower to climb to?”

I nodded curtly and he turned and finally met my gaze, hostility gone – for now.

“Do not fail us, sacrifice.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said wryly and turned on my heel back into the raging dust.

My heart was already in my throat. I’d made promises I couldn’t possibly keep. But I had to keep them. Especially now that Zin’s fate rode on my actions, too. I didn’t dare fail her. Her last prophecy rang in my ears.

His path is clear and true. His way is set before him. He bars them in with walls of rocks. He finds their salvation.

Let’s hope I can live up to that, Zin.

Chapter Nine

THE GOLEMS WERE WHEELING again. Glimpses of their dark bodies showed at every break in the dust storm. They were wheeling above me, waiting for the dust to clear enough to swoop down and attack. And the caves still weren’t safe – not until I could shut the doors.

I didn’t have a moment to waste. I scrambled up the steps, lost already in the dust, but hoping that by moving upward I’d be headed toward the tower.

My dust veil barely kept the swirling sand from choking me as I darted up the steps and then across one terrace to reach the next set of steps. Flashbacks of my time in the Trial came back in bursts. Steps and terraces here became ladders and platforms there in my mind’s eye. Maybe my mimic could help me out again. Maybe he could beat me to the tower.

“Yeah, see the thing about that is that I could do things in the trials because it was a non-corporeal world,” he said lazily, yawning idly from a place a little ahead of where I was running. “Here I don’t have a body. Not really. I’m just in your mind. A horrible mirror of who you are meant to taunt you forever.”

“I’m not you,” I muttered as I climbed. My fingernails were growing ragged from fumbling against the rough stone. “You’re lazy and mocking and useless.”

“I’m not your better half, I’ll admit that,” he said, “but I’m definitely a version of you that could exist – that would have existed without Hubric’s intervention.”

What a horrible thought. I hated this rotten apple already. I felt my cheeks heating at the thought. Did other people think that about me?

A burst of fire flashed across the ground right in front of me and I flinched against the rock wall. This would be a good time to have help from a dragon.

We’re overwhelmed right now.

They were under attack?

Don’t be angry.

Why did those words make me think there was a reason to be angry?

I couldn’t leave you here. Hubric wouldn’t have left anyway. We’re launching a counter-attack. Or we were, before they turned the tables on us.

I clenched my jaw grimly. I told her to leave!

I don’t answer to you.

It was for your own good! What good was having a dragon if she never listened to you?

I was under the tower now, close to where it rose above the rest of the cliffs. My legs ached from climbing. My muscles were like jelly from the effort. Seriously, after the last weeks of constant ladders and stairs and climbing, I would have thought they would be used to it by now!

I gritted my teeth and moved forward when a blast of fire hit the rock in front of me, chipping it with the force of the blow and sending little shards shooting painfully across my exposed skin. I closed my eyes just in time. When I opened them again, the rock in front of me was scorched and black.

That was close!

The dust was settling, the storm waning. Not good. That dust storm was my only cover. I pulled the veil down from my mouth and ran.

Zyla is coming to help you.

No! Tell her to stay where she is!

There was no response, but as the dust cleared and I scrambled higher, the air above me grew clearer.

I was partway up the tower that held the upper cave. Good. I was closer than I thought. I’d been worried that I was on the wrong staircase, but there were a few different sets of steps leading up to the upper cave. I ran faster.

A roar, just over my head shook me, making me pause, and then a woosh of air was the only warning to duck. I ducked low as a dragon tail crashed into the rock above me.

My heart was pounding, my legs wobbling under me. I looked up, my arms over my head, trying to protect it.

Kyrowat was wrapped around a metal golem, his legs encasing it, his wings fighting against the pull of the machine. Hubric leaned forward in the saddle, face twisting in the intensity of the moment.

And then they were gone, falling away from where I stood and back into the dust cloud below.

Other golems circled the tower. Had the conflict drawn their eyes to me?

I had to hurry.

The last steps to the top seemed to take the longest, my legs screamed for relief, my muscles ached. If the dust was clearing up here, it wouldn’t be long before it cleared below and then the people hiding in the caves would be vulnerable – Zin would be vulnerable.

Fear filled me. I channeled it into my movements. Come on!

The cave mouth loomed, shadowed and wide. I dove into it at the same moment that the squeal of metal tore through my ears. A golem must have slid across the rocks behind me. They were relentless as only a man-made thing could be – unflagging in energy and intent.

I scrambled to my feet in the cave and my jaw fell open.

Shabren stood in front of the wheel, his mouth turning up in a triumphant smile. In one hand, he was gripping Zyla’s neck. In the other, one of those fire rods.

Chapter Ten

I FROZE. IF I DREW a weapon, he could fire that rod. My mind was racing, but nothing helpful came to me.

“I see you took my fashion advice,” I said, ignoring my racing heart. Shabren was dressed in black leather from head to toe, only a bright purple dust veil decorating the tight-fitting leather. It showed me how big he really was – at least six inches taller than I was and twice as thick. “Must be hot in this climate, though.”

“That was your fashion advice? Don’t bother giving me any,” my mimic said.

“There are two of you!” Shabren’s eyes lit up and I felt my heart plummet. He could see the mimic? No one could see the mimic! “You have a shadow-self. Wonderful! I’ve never seen one of these in person.”

He seemed to relax his hold on Zyla as he spoke, completely distracted by the mimic. He took a step toward him and away from the wheel. I frowned at her, begging her to slip away but she shook her head. The grip wasn’t loose enough to slip away.

“You can have him,” I offered, inching in a circle toward the wheel. “Just give me the girl in exchange.”

“Hey!” The mimic looked ready to fight.

Shabren laughed, circling in the opposite direction and keeping the distance between us. “You have no idea what you are offering. Of course, I would take him ... if I could. I still might, if I can find a way to do it. But don’t come any closer or the girl will suffer.”

The doorway scar on my hand felt cool at his words. He spoke the truth.

He seemed completely charmed despite his threats, his eyes glued to the mimic, a small smile playing around his lips.

“How did you get here?” I asked grimly, still inching toward the wheel.

“The golems have a long range. They may be less maneuverable than a dragon, but they can fly all day,” he said, his eyes still enchanted by my mimic. I edged toward the mechanism behind him. The stone wheel looked exactly as Bataar and Berun had described. I needed to turn it to seal their caves and make them safe. I was running out of time.

“The saddle sores must be incredible,” I said, taunting Shabren. “Even with you all dressed in leather, Shabby. Or are you made of metal, too?”

Shabren’s eyes narrowed. “If you think your mockery makes you immune to my magic, you are wrong, boy. I’ve only held back because I am wondering if I can keep that shadow alive with you dead. An army of shadows – now that would be a thing worth testing. How did you come by the shadow?”

My mimic rolled his eyes. “As if it’s not bad enough mirroring you, Tor. Now, this hulking ape wants me to join his army. Tell him I don’t take orders.”

“He’s a gift,” I said. “Or maybe a curse. It’s hard to say most of the time.”

Shabren ignored me, his eyes locked on the mimic and I took the last step to the wheel, grabbing it in both hands. There were spokes all along it for turning it and a locking mechanism. I just needed to open that mechanism and nudge it.

“Freeze,” Shabren said.

I tore my gaze from the wheel to where he stood, the fire rod pressed against Zyla’s temple.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Did he know what I was trying to do, or was he just trying to thwart me without knowing why?

“How do you imagine this ending?” I asked, raising a single eyebrow. Maybe if I got him talking it would distract him again.

He smirked. “Like you’re in charge of this scenario. Ha! You’d be amusing if you weren’t so annoying, boy. Not that I don’t have something to thank you for.”

“You can thank me for anything you like.”

“Well then, thanks. I don’t like Apeq A’kona much, though he’s a necessary tool in this ... enterprise. But tools can start thinking they’re the ones in charge. And Apeq was getting a big head. Whatever you did to him behind that door has dulled his edge. He can’t exactly treat me like his cur when he has me to thank for healing him, can he?”

Apeq was alive? I tried to keep from swallowing. I didn’t want Shabren to know how nervous that made me. When they’d pulled me from the flames, I’d left him behind. I thought for sure that he would die there.

“Healing him?”

“Eight days ago, he rocketed back out of the doorway, on fire. His skin was nothing but burned char. He smelled like a nice smoked pig dinner. Do you know what it takes to heal a man so close to death?” Shabren’s eyes narrowed. “What it takes out of him?”

We’re beating them back! Saboraak sounded triumphant and my heart soared. We’ve carved a way to the cave mouth where the Kav’ai are fighting!

They were fighting? That was not good! I needed to close that doorway and I needed to keep Shabren distracted.

“A black leather suit and a ridiculous purple scarf?” I asked. I didn’t believe him. I returned to the world five days ago and I left him there. He couldn’t have returned eight days ago. That was three days before me.

“Time works differently there. Who knows how long it’s been since you entered that doorway,” the mimic said.

I had only been in there a few hours. Apeq had been lying when he said it was days before he followed me.

“A month,” Shabren said and the scar on my hand grew icy cold. “You were in there a month.”

“No,” I gasped.

“A month for us to rally the army. A month to move our golem army south. And even this little detour won’t interrupt all of that.”

We can’t hold them for long, but we’re countering the golem attacks. I’ve never flown so hard in my life!

Hang in there, Saboraak!

The tower rocked suddenly, and I looked out the entrance of the cave to see a golem spinning through the air. It had ricocheted off the tower and was careening through the air in a spiral – riderless. A moment later, Kyrowat passed the entrance in a flurry of wings and then was gone. I swallowed. Saboraak?

We can’t keep this up for long. Can you close the door?

Are the people all inside?

Hold on. I just need to shake this one from my tail.

There were wide windows carved on all sides of the cave-room. Windows big enough for a dragon. Maybe she could join us here.

A squealing sound arrested my thoughts and then Shabren grinned. “Stay back.”

He pulled Zyla backward against the wall and then there was a louder squeal of metal on rock. One of the golems burst through one of the large windows. I dove out of the way just in time, knocking my forehead against the rock. The golem filled the room in a moment, it’s metal body gleaming in the sun.

Saboraak? Are they inside?

In the confusion, I seized my chance, grabbed the wheel in both hands and released the mechanism. I was waiting for her response, my heart pounding at the wait and my hands twitching. They wanted to spin the wheel as badly as I did.

One more ...

A woman dressed just like Shabren leapt off the golem. Her hair streamed behind her. Gilded gauntlets encased her hands and a sleek helmet with bird wings jutting out from it graced her head. It had been designed with a windshield over the mouth and nose that disguised her features entirely.

“Are we bringing these two with us, Shabren?” she asked.

Come on, Saboraak! I’m running out of time!

“We’ll take the girl,” Shabren said. “The boy is worthless, unless you know a way to trap shadows.”

“Not yet.”

“Come here, street scum. Bow before your better – Castelan Katlana Woelran, Magika and First Flyer of my golem army.” He was searching for me, the golem obscuring his view, but as his eyes locked on me they grew wide.

Now! Close it now!

I turned the wheel as hard as I could. It spun, the spokes whirling faster and faster and faster as it gained speed.

Shabren’s curses filled my ears.

Chapter Eleven

“GRAB HIM!” SHABREN yelled at the same moment that Saboraak’s cry of victory filled my ears.

You did it! The doors are closed!

I darted forward, around the golem, reaching for Zyla, but Shabren hit me with the rod, knocking me backward. I hit the golem, cracking my head against its metal body. Pain flared in my head and I fell to the ground. There was a scuffle of feet and a grunt above me.

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll be trapped here,” the woman – Katlana said. I heard the squeak of leather against metal.

“Move, Tor!” Zyla yelled.

I rolled to the side, away from the golem. There was a roar and then, as I stumbled to my feet, the golem sped forward, shooting from the window like an arrow with Zyla, Shabren, and Katlana on its back.

Saboraak!

Below you and climbing!

Catch!

I didn’t wait for her response. I ran as fast as I could toward the window and leapt. My dragon would catch me. She would never let me fall.

“You’re an idiot,” my mimic said as we fell together toward the earth. The clear air rushed around me, the yellow landscape growing larger by the second. Below us, golems swarmed like a school of tadpoles. Uh oh. How would Saboraak get through them?

But there she was, rolling past their flames, her wings flapping powerfully, neck outstretched as she pushed toward us. She was red then black then white. She was green and then finally purple when she rose up, head growing huge in my vision, and plucked me from the air like an eagle grabbing a trout from the water. Her head snaked back and tossed me free from her jaw and onto the saddle.

I grabbed the saddle in both hands as soon as I landed on her back, my heart in my throat. She’d never handled me so roughly before!

Stop jumping from heights without warning! You are going to give me a heart attack!

“Sorry,” I whispered in a small voice.

Stop almost dying and barely surviving!

“Sorry.”

Stop taking needless, insane risks!

“Sorry.”

Stop talking to your own shadow like a crazy person!

“Sorry.”

And, for the love of skies and stars, please, please, stop being a hero!

I didn’t say sorry for that. After all, I was no hero. She should know that by now.

She snorted.

I would die if you died, Tor. Not just literally. I would die of a thousand broken beats of my heart. You need to learn to be safe. You need to take care of yourself. You matter to me.

“They have Zyla,” I said mildly.

The golems were forming up into ranks, Katlana speeding to join the others. They’d left four behind which swarmed angrily around the closed cave door.

Why do you think I am chasing after them? Her tone was milder now, as if her anger had burned out.

I grunted, unsheathing two of my daggers. In the chaos, I’d lost the axe. Again.

What do you think you are going to do with those? Put them back before you stab yourself!

Embarrassed, I complied. She must have thought I was a fool.

I think you are my friend and I’ve been really worried about you lately. But – as always – we don’t have time to think about that.

We were almost upon Shabren’s golem. Saboraak flew harder.

I can’t flame him, or I risk hurting Zyla.

Then what could we do?

I have a plan, but it’s risky.

Wasn’t she just lecturing me on not doing risky things?

Yes. But that was without me. This risky thing, you should do with me. Kyrowat will help, too, once he catches up.

I glanced behind us to see the old purple struggling to catch up, Hubric on his back. He looked angry – but then Kyrowat always looked angry. There was a golem behind him. Hopefully, he could evade it or defeat it. I’d have to trust him to do the job while I did mine.

You should have seen him! He took out two golems just with his skill in flying! He’d get them to chase him and then outmaneuver them and they crashed against the rocks.

She sounded impressed.

I am impressed! But no time for that – the plan. It’s inspired by your escapades.

That couldn’t be good. No one should be inspired by me.

I’m going to fly over the golem so you can drop down on it.

This sounded bad already.

Free Zyla while I dive underneath. Then, both of you can drop from the golem onto my back and we’ll get out of here faster than a dragon fleeing an Ifrit.

Don’t remind me of Ifrits.

What do you think? She almost sounded nervous, like she was afraid I would say her plan was a bad one.

“I can’t think of anything better,” I muttered. I was judging the distance, judging how long it would take to join the other golems – minutes. How long I would have to free Zyla – seconds. And how far we could afford to fall before Saboraak caught us – not nearly far enough.

Ready? she asked.

My heart was in my throat, my belly in knots, my pulse pounding.

“Ready,” I said as her great mass eclipsed the golem below.

I let go of the saddle, swung my legs over the side and dropped like a stone from her back.

Chapter Twelve

WHAT WAS I THINKING?

My heart was in my throat as I fell. If I had been off in my judgment at all –

I wasn’t.

I landed on top of Shabren, his hard head jamming into my belly as my hands scrambled for purchase. One grabbed his scarf and I held on for dear life as my other hand found a grip on something firmer.

“Stop playing handsy games and get what you came for!” my mimic suggested as I gasped for breath.

I’m still completing my roll. Don’t drop off the golem yet!

Shabren pulled away from me, but the scarf caught at his throat. His face went purple as he tried to yank it from my grasp.

Don’t even think about it!

I didn’t have a strong enough purchase to let go. One of my legs was mostly over the back of the golem, but the other leg dangled wildly.

Zyla was yelling something from in front of me but her yell cut off in a grunt of pain. I saw Katlana pulling back, her fist still balled from striking Zyla.

I gritted my teeth, pulled on the scarf and yanked myself up to a seated position behind Shabren. Zyla’s hands were tied. She’d have to jump like that. We didn’t have time for me to draw a knife and cut the bonds. I swallowed. It would be hard for her to catch Saboraak’s saddle with tied hands.

Trust me, Saboraak said. I will keep her safe.

Was she in position?

I’m here but you have to hurry. Kyrowat is entangled with the golems that were behind us and more are circling back toward me.

I swallowed. I needed Zyla to jump first. She wasn’t tied to the golem. But if she hesitated at all then Katlana or Shabren could stop her.

Shabren yanked hard on his scarf and I lost my grip, clawing wildly and grabbing him around the waist.

“Get off of me!” he roared.

“Zyla!” I called and her head whipped to look at me, golden eyes huge. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes!” Her voice wavered, but her eyes were steady.

“Don’t hesitate.”

“She can’t help you now, boy!” Shabren said, pulling the rod from the waistband of his trousers.

Zyla’s gaze was locked with mine as she nodded agreement. I held her gaze until I was sure she was paying attention.

“Jump,” I mouthed.

Her expression firmed, and her face paled but she didn’t hesitate. She threw her body to the side, sliding easily off the golem and plummeting through the air. It was a long heartbeat before I heard Saboraak in my mind.

Got her!

I let out a long breath the second before Shabren’s fist plowed into my face.

“Ooof!”

My head rang, spots dancing across my vision as I struggled to keep my hold on him. He cracked me on the head with his rod before yelling something at Katlana. I couldn’t tell what he was saying. Everything was happening so fast. I let go of his waist to grab at the scarf. I needed to stop him somehow before he beat me senseless.

Could I drop?

Give me a minute!

I needed to jump right now!

Golems are attacking us. We are dodging their attacks but I’m lagging behind. Hold on! I will come for you.

I held on to the scarf with all my might. Shabren jammed his elbow in my gut and I bucked in pain. I needed to fight back.

I gritted my teeth and smashed my forehead into his spine. There! That should hurt. He lurched forward, tugging tightly against my renewed grip on his scarf. He cursed at full volume, reaching forward to grasp something Katlana was holding out to him. I needed more hands.

“Bite him!” my mimic yelled from where he sat in front of Katlana. His eyes glowed with excitement.

I wasn’t going to bite anyone.

“Come on!” He pumped his fist in the air.

The thing in Shabren’s hand shone brightly. A weapon.

Maybe you really should bite him.

If even Saboraak was telling me to try it –

I leaned forward and bit his ear, keeping my jaw locked as he screamed. His hand with the shining object spun around and then something slammed into my head and my mouth fell open.

Drop! I’m ready to catch you!

The world was dark with pain. It burrowed through me like a merciless worm, devouring my senses.

Come on, Tor!

I tried to shake my head to clear the pain, but it wasn’t working. I tried to get a grip on the scarf again, but my arm hung dully at my side. Something grabbed my belt, dragging me in front of Shabren and slinging me over the saddle. Bitterness filled my mouth. Something strong pulled my limbs together, binding me to myself and to the golem.

Shabren laughed.

I was slung, belly down, across the saddle between him and Katlana. In his hand, he held the spider I had lost the first night in Eski.

“Remember this?” he asked, turning the spider around in his hands. “You didn’t even know what it did when you held it so close. Maybe if you had, we’d be living in very different times. You could have used it on me that first night on the platform. Like a spider, it binds the prey, stealing their voices and eventually their minds. But don’t worry, now that I have you, I think I will keep you – at least until I can find a way to capture your shadow.”

Saboraak! I called in my mind, screaming her name. Saboraak!”

I’m too late! There are too many of them!

My heart was beating so hard I thought it might burst. I was caught in Shabren’s trap. I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. And we were flying away from our friends and allies.

I remembered for a moment, the people in the caves. They were relying on me to free them when the conflict was over – and I couldn’t even free myself.

Don’t give up! I’ll come for you!

We were still speeding across the desert hours later when her voice began to fade in my mind.

I will find you, she promised.

But she couldn’t know that. And I didn’t blame her. I couldn’t have stopped them either.

Chapter Thirteen

I WOKE UP STILL TRUSSED like a goat for a feast.

“You look even worse than you feel,” my mimic said.

“I’ll miss all these compliments if Shabren manages to take you,” I muttered.

I was lying in the sand, my cheek pressed hard against the cold ground. There was no blanket or tent over me, though I could see a tent not far from where I lay and, in the distance, I thought I could see another. It’s hard to see much with a cheek against the ground and most of a tent blocking everything else.

“You’ll miss more than that.”

The mimic sat cross-legged, staring up at the full moon.

“Where are we? And why can I talk again?”

“They released you from the spider – obviously. Look down. Those are normal ropes holding you.”

He was right. I would have noticed it if I’d been paying attention.

“I can’t notice anything you haven’t noticed. I’m you, remember? Which is why you should be worried.”

“Oh, trust me,” I said wryly. “I’m worried. The last time I heard from Saboraak, she was falling behind, and I can’t hear her right now. I don’t know if Kyrowat and Hubric survived. I do know that the rest of the Kav’ai Elders are locked in a cave until I can free them again, and I’m not exactly in the position to free anyone.”

“Yes, that’s very inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient? Try deadly. Try, edge-of-a-volcano deadly!”

“It’s a lot worse than that, you fool.” The mimic was trembling in the moonlight. I’d never seen him anything but calm. “I think they can really strip me from you.”

“And I’ll miss your cheery attitude if they do.”

He walked forward and squatted in front of me until my vision was filled with his face. His lip was curled but it was fear that dominated his expression.

“You’ll miss yourself. Your shadow-self reminds you of who you might be, and it tells you how to avoid that. But it’s also there to tap into when you need a little ... edge. There’s a word for that.”

“Annoying?”

“Wisdom.” He practically spat.

“Where would you be without the cunning to make plans? You can’t guess what evil men might do if you can’t imagine what you would be like if you were evil. And you can’t avoid evil paths if you don’t know what they are. You need me, Tor. It’s not just that you are me – it’s that I’m the part of you that you keep locked in a cage at the back of your mind. I’m everything you deny about yourself – I’m the hero you say you aren’t. I’m the critic you claim not to be. I’m even the one who cries at night for your dead mother. You might not like it that I’m free right now. You might wish you could shove me back in that cave but the one thing that you cannot afford is to lose me entirely.”

He stood up again and walked a few paces away, turning his back to me.

I was stunned. I’d never considered anything like that before.

I shivered in the night, longing for a cloak or even a blanket or just for Saboraak to be nearby with all her body heat. My mimic stayed away, but his words wouldn’t stop ringing in my mind. Was it really so important to keep him?

Did I really need a shadow-self, or was this just a desperate gamble of his to stay alive? After all, the Kav’ai had a precept about this – all things strive. Perhaps even a mimic would strive for life when it was threatened.

What would it be like if I had no shadow within me? What if every thought was so innocent that I really didn’t see trouble around every corner? What if I really didn’t have that shadow lurking deep within me and warning me that I could easily become that? Well, if that was true then I would be like Zin – pure as snow and more beautiful. But that was not me. I was Tor Winepsring, crippled by the shadow that grew up with me all my life. And now I would have to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Sleep came eventually, but it was short and fitful, a litany of dreams filled with half-formed fears and shadows.

Shabren joined me in the wee hours of the morning, the sun was barely glimmering along the horizon. He was sipping a hot drink. I was not offered any, though my mouth was dry and sour.

“I have been thinking about your shadow, Tor. And what to do with it.”

“Where are we?” I croaked.

“On our way to a more civilized place,” Shabren said. “The Kav’ai are a terribly backward people, as I’m sure you saw. They need a strong hand to drag them into civilization.”

“Is that code for ‘depravity’?”

He barked a laugh. “You’re almost funny sometimes, boy. Out here in Kav’ai it’s hard to find anyone who doesn’t take themselves entirely too seriously. Oh, don’t mistake me. I don’t plan to let you live. But I think I will like your shadow. I can see him, you know. He looks irritated. What’s bothering you, shadow?”

It worried me that he could see the mimic. The other Tor shook himself and turned to examine Shabren coolly.

“Your ugly mug,” he said.

Shabren cuffed me so suddenly that I hadn’t had time to even flinch. I saw stars and one of my eyes was suddenly blurry. I coughed, the ropes biting into me as my body heaved.

“I can’t punish a shadow, but I can punish his other half. And I will. So, no more insults. Let’s play nice.”

“Nice is for little old ladies,” the mimic said and Shabren hit me again.

I spat blood, my head ringing.

“Stop,” I begged. Not to Shabren, but to the mimic. My lips were fat and my words thick. “Please, stop.”

“Let’s try this again,” Shabren said easily. “You’ll need to learn to obey me, shadow.”

“I obey no one,” the mimic said. He wasn’t even looking at me as I sucked in wet, blood tinged breaths. He was staring, mesmerized at Shabren.

“Then you will be taught.”

“To teach someone, you have to know something,” the mimic mocked.

The boot I got in the belly left me moaning. Oh, stop! Please, stop!

“We’ll try this again at noon. You’ll learn to listen to me, shadow.”

Shabren strode out of my vision and I sagged in relief.

“Please,” I begged the mimic. “Please.”

“I’m you,” the mimic said breezily, “and you aren’t the obedient type.”

“I’m the type who likes to keep his teeth,” I moaned, but my pleading fell on deaf ears.

When Katlana arrived as the sun finally rose over the horizon, I’d given up any hope of the mimic seeing things my way.

She released my bonds.

“Up.” Her tone was curt. “There’s water here. Drink sparingly. This must last us all day. Drink, eat, do what is necessary. Be quick. You ride with me today. Don’t bother attacking me. You’re a mess and I am well rested.”

She looked well rested, and the sword she carried helped with the tone in keeping me in line. I drank and tried to dress my wounds without bandages, but I didn’t eat. My insides didn’t feel right after the fight and the beating this morning. One eye had swelled shut and the other was blurry. Best to avoid food if I couldn’t be sure I’d keep it down. I wrapped the dust veil around my face and head to keep today’s sun off and submitted silently when the time came for her to tie me up again.

“Give me no trouble and you can ride sitting. Trouble me, and I will truss you like an animal,” she said.

I wasn’t planning on causing trouble, but I watched my mimic from the corner of my eye. He was enough trouble for both of us.

Chapter Fourteen

THE REST OF THE JOURNEY had been agonizing.

Metal golems were hard to ride – not at all like dragons. Their metal carapaces were cold in the cool of morning and burning hot in the afternoon. They were stiff under the tailbone in a way that made every part of a man ache, and the shape of them felt uncomfortable under human legs.

When I rode Saboraak, she wasn’t soft, but she was alive. She responded to a rider. She moved to keep you in the saddle if you started to slip.

This thing was mindless. There was no heartbeat. I’d grown used to Saboraak’s heartbeat.

I missed her badly. It ached in me almost worse than my guts did where Shabren had kicked me. And there was something definitely wrong with them. The swollen eye and split lip bothered me throughout the day, but it was the visceral pain of something wrong inside me that made me ride hunched over, my bound hands cradling my aching core.

I thought I might be feverish.

The glare of the sun left everything in distance hazy and the hot sun beat mercilessly on my head, but my mind drifted constantly and holding a full thought in it was hard.

Broken, painful thoughts missing Saboraak ran right into worrying about Bataar and his people and then rolled into wondering if Hubric and Kyrowat had been okay. I drifted into thoughts of Zyla – at least she and Saboraak were together! I kept remembering that kiss we’d shared – long and lingering, like she was enjoying it as much as I was. It was the one nice thing I could think about as I huddled in pain on the back of the golem.

I worried for her, too. Would she stay safe? Would she do something risky? Could Saboraak stop her? She hadn’t been very good at stopping me, though her scolding stuck in my head. She’d been right about the mimic. He would be a problem.

What did Shabren want so badly with him? The mimic thought I’d be at a loss without him, but Shabren had been clear that he didn’t plan to keep me alive after that, anyway. So why take the shadow? Did he plan to use him to fuel the life of a golem?

“No. I’m more valuable than that,” he whispered from behind me.

And how was he valuable?

“I don’t think that Shabren and his shadow are separate. I think they merged a long time ago.”

I thought that was what the mimic wanted – for us to merge.

“Ha! Then we’d both be in trouble. The best thing for you – and therefore for me – is for us to be separate. I give you wisdom. I’m there when you need me, but no one can take too much of a good thing.”

What did that even mean?

“It means that if you merge with your shadow, then you become a monster. The shadow swallows up your compassion and willingness to put someone else before yourself. It swallows up the traits someone might think of as ‘good.’ Oh, you need me. And I need you. Or at least, I need someone real to hold on to and in this case, it’s you. But you don’t want to be me. Do you understand?

“You don’t ever want to embrace the monster for more than a few seconds. Maybe you’d find me deep within in a moment of crisis and maybe then I could fuel you to think of a solution you wouldn’t have considered if everything was roses, right? Maybe I could help you kill ... if you needed to. You’re not really a killer without me.

“But that’s the problem. If we merged completely – if you ever let go and I took over, well then I would be Tor and you would just be an echo floating around in my head – or maybe you wouldn’t exist at all.”

Did that happen to Shabren?

“If I had to guess, I’d say he welcomed it. He lives for that monster. He’s not ... well, let’s say that there are humans like him, he’s not unique, but he’s also not someone you ever want to meet.”

Then why did he want my shadow if he had already absorbed his own?

“Maybe he thinks it will make him human again,” the mimic suggested. “Or maybe he just wants to see if I could make him even more of a monster. I could, you know. I’m more evil than you even know. If I was ever in charge of you, you’d never emerge again. I’m stronger than you can imagine.”

I shuddered and Katlana reached a hand back to slap me lightly.

“Stay still back there. I don’t like squirming.”

I wasn’t too worried about what she liked. I was a lot more interested in what my shadow was suggesting, because if what he was suggesting was true, I had a real problem on my hands – and maybe a solution, too.

Maybe I should just shut him away in the back of my mind forever.

“That’s just as bad,” the shadow said. “Because if you cut me off completely, you’ll never learn from me, never grow from me. Ignoring a thing is not the same as conquering it.”

We stopped for a break at noon and Katlana offered me water and food. The water I took, but I didn’t dare eat, choosing instead to huddle on the ground and try to rest while I could. They’d taken my knives – or at least the ones they’d found. There was still one between my shoulder blades, but I couldn’t reach it with my hands tied the way they had them, and I wouldn’t have tried to escape here anyway.

We were days of walking from anywhere on a dry expanse that rolled out cracked and flat in every direction as far as my eyes could see. There were spiny bushes waist-high and some of the dead ones tumbled along the ground, but it wasn’t a fertile place and there was no water. Escape here would be a death sentence.

Katlana went to socialize with the other golem rider, or whatever they were doing. Making plans, perhaps, and I huddled against the golem, flinching at the pain in my belly.

“Grow a thicker skin,” my shadow-self suggested.

Heartless. It was easy to be heartless when you were nothing but a ghost.

“I’m something more to Shabren,” he reminded me and although I’d had a drink just moments ago, my mouth felt dry at the thought.

It seemed to me that there must be some way I could use my mimic to escape. Maybe he could distract Shabren the next time we were talking and then I could escape. I still didn’t know why Shabren could see him at all.

“He’s a Magika. He can access things that regular people can’t. Seeing me is part of that.”

So, any Magika we came across would see him.

“So, it would seem.”

And that would make me a target to them.

“I bring a lot to our relationship.”

Could he distract Shabren the next time I saw him?

“Better to take that knife out and kill him with it. If we meet up with Apeq, he will do more than kill you. Those marks you wear won’t make him very happy.”

It was strange that Shabren hadn’t commented on them.

“He spoke to Apeq before he came to find you. I suspect that he was told what to expect.”

If he was sent to find us, would he really kill me? He would. He had promised he wouldn’t leave me alive. But maybe he could be content just to take my shadow.

“But will you be alive without me? Really?”

Ummm yes?

“Ha! I suspect not.”

Which meant that if I wanted to live, I would need to escape with my shadow intact, and before we saw Apeq again.

“Good plan.”

If only I could come up with more than that.

“I have total faith in you.”

Really?

“No. But it’s something people say.”

Chapter Fifteen

I FLEW BEHIND KATLANA for the rest of the day contemplating my options – few – and my chances – poor – and wishing that Saboraak was with me. She’d know what we should do. She’d have a plan. And it didn’t hurt that she was also a massive flying fire-breather with an armor-scale coat and claws the size of my hands.

We arrived in the evening at a river. As we headed south, away from the band of burning earth closest to the sun, the desert was fading into scrubland. Stunted trees and higher bushes with occasional tufts of grass dominated where there had only been cracked earth before and hills rose from the endless flat plains.

It was among these hills that a small river snaked and rolled. On either side of the river, with a small bridge connecting them, were low buildings with wide earthen roofs and open sides. Smoke and firelight poured from some of them, but others carried the sounds of people talking and eating together.

I would have liked this place if it had not belonged to Shabren’s Magikas.

“This is Aden Rhee,” Katlana said to me as we arrived. “Don’t talk to the Kav’ai servants. They still think this place is theirs.”

“Why do you keep them here?” I asked through my thick lip.

“Shabren wants their gray powder. It’s hard to make and the rest of us are needed for the army. You need to be a Magika to power these golems, even with their internal magic. Which is important for you to know – don’t try to steal one. You’ll only damage it. You can’t control the speed, stop, or land if you aren’t a Magika. I’d rather not see mine wrecked for no reason.”

“Are we spending the night here?” I was surprised she was feeling so chatty. She’d been silent the entire ride except for telling me to stop wiggling. I had a feeling that she was not just the leader of the golem riders in name. They watched her and looked up to her. She might be as well respected as Shabren was.

“I am,” she said. “Shabren has plans for you.”

Of course he did.

We flew through the town and I stared into every building looking for anything I could learn. Even at this late hour, people were working.

In some of the buildings, people worked at mortar and pestle, their areas dark, the lanterns far away and covered carefully. Perhaps what they were working on didn’t like fire.

In other buildings, the fires flared hot. Those were clearly forges, and the pounding and clanging coming from them backed that idea up.

On others, rack upon rack of tubular metal bars stood ready. Whatever they were building must use those as a component. I needed to remember Aden Rhee. If I lived through this, we needed to know where it was. If any of this grey powder became a problem, we would know where to go to stop it.

Katlana didn’t stop as we flew past the inns and taverns, but the other golems did, peeling off in twos and threes together until we were the only ones flying behind Shabren. He led us through town to a hill on the other side of the city. He landed in front of a low building, lit brightly with lanterns and torches.

Katlana moved to land beside him but he gestured above, and she flew past to the top of the hill above the building. There was a fire burning there already and a pair of Magikas in full robes stood on either side of the fire. Behind one of them was a tall tree, gnarled by the weather, its roots extending into the pale sand of the hilltop. Strange to see such a big tree here. Stranger yet was the sap that ran down it, white and thick.

“Shabren the Violet has plans for this captive,” she said, grabbing my bound hands and easing me off the side of the stopped golem.

“More like Shabren the Violent,” my mimic said, wandering around the fire, kicking rocks and poking the flames with a stick. He could look nonchalant, but I wasn’t. It couldn’t be a good thing that I was being brought here instead of to one of the buildings.

“What’s with the silver pattern on his face?” the first Magika said, grabbing my upper arm.

“Shabren will tell you if he wants to,” Katlana said.

“We could burn those on permanently, if you want,” the Magika offered. My scar felt hot at his lie. His words were just bravado. Interesting. The scar was still working, no matter what else might be broken inside me.

“Having a campfire?” I asked dryly.

“Yeah, me and Rollen are just camping out,” the other Magika said with a laugh. “We aren’t dabbling in experimental magic or anything.”

Behind him, a rough rack was laid out and as I looked at it, I saw a row of vials stretching across the rack, some empty and some filled with dark liquids. On the rocks around the fire, three small brass cauldrons sat. I never understood what Magikas did with their concoctions or what they were for. I suspected that they were just a ruse – a bright bubbling distraction to keep our minds off what they were really doing.

“Sucking the life force out of the earth – and now people – and harnessing it for their own ends?” my mimic suggested.

Yeah. That.

“You shouldn’t tell him our names,” Rollen said sullenly as Katlana kicked off and left us in the dust that swirled up after her golem left. I watched her longingly. She hadn’t been a bad sort. Whatever Rollen and his buddy were planning couldn’t be as nice as riding in silence with her had been.

“Yeah, because he’s such a threat,” the other Magika laughed.

“Just tie him to the tree, Kreg.”

Rollen and Kreg. Clearly the brains of this operation.

I jerked against the rope, trying to pull free, but Rollen stepped forward and cracked me on the side of the head with his fist. I stumbled from the blow and they used that moment to pull me forward, tightening the rope that held my hands and then feeding it through a ring in the tree above my head.

The tree smelled strongly of something between pine sap and strong liquor. They jerked the rope tight until I was standing on my tiptoes, my midsection stretched out and exposed. Pain flared through me as my guts elongated. They still ached from Shabren’s kicking.

I set my jaw firmly. It was obvious what was coming next and I didn’t want to be the guy who started crying. Not that my eyes didn’t feel just a tad dry suddenly. I could almost see what would happen next like threads being woven into a pattern.

I was keeping a running inner dialogue going, trying to silence the part of myself that was gibbering like a fool. There was no point in breaking. It wouldn’t stop what was coming. Those threads were weaving fast.

Kreg set a metal poker into the fire to heat it. He’d better not get too ambitious, or Shabren wouldn’t get his crack at taking my shadow.

I bit the inside of my cheek to try to keep my focus on anything other than what my imagination was spitting up to the forefront.

“They’re going to brand you with that,” my mimic said. “Or take out your eyes. Do you want the last thing you see to be Kreg? I don’t think so.”

I shut my eyes, remembering Zyla’s big golden eyes instead. Remembering how it had felt to kiss her.

“Or maybe they’ll gut you with it.”

“Or ram it into – ”

“Shut up!” I yelled. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

“I don’t think I will,” Shabren said coolly.

My eyes shot open. He was taking the poker from a grinning Kreg, looking at the cherry red metal on the end of it.

“Your shift is done,” he said to Rollen and Kreg, staring at them until they shuffled off reluctantly.

He turned back to me.

“Your shadow is a wealth of interesting suggestions. Perhaps we will try some of them.”

Chapter Sixteen

THERE WAS NO CHANCE left for me, but I wasn’t a quitter. And this wasn’t the way I wanted to die. I rubbed my back against the tree, trying to dislodge the knife back there, but it wouldn’t loosen. All I got for my troubles was tree sap all over me.

“That sap is very flammable. You’d go up like a torch with that on you if you came near flame,” Shabren said, toying with the poker. He was watching me speculatively.

Okay, mimic, I said in my mind. We need to work together.

“Not much I can do from here,” the mimic said, examining the tool rack under the potions. He was holding an axe, turning it over and over in his hands.

“He’s only a shadow,” Shabren warned with a grin. “He can’t cut down the tree you’re tied to. He can’t sever that rope. He can play all he wants with that axe, but it’s only a shadow axe to him. He can’t touch the one made of steel. He certainly can’t kill me with it.”

His grin grew wider as he took another step toward me. He was turning the poker around and around in his hands.

“All that remains is to see how much pain it will take from you to get that shadow to release.”

The scar on my hand tingled cold. That was the truth.

I needed to think while I still could. I needed to look carefully, while I still could. I had the knife at my back that I couldn’t get to. I had the mimic who was only a shadow with his shadowy axe. I had ... grit? Fat lot of good that did.

There was an answer there if I could puzzle it out.

Shabren raised the poker.

“Perhaps we’ll test it first. See how hot it is.”

He lunged suddenly and I screamed as he poker blazed toward my face.

I couldn’t duck, couldn’t dodge. All I could do was scream.

It hit the tree behind me with a thunk.

Lightning sprouted around me, shaking me like a rope in a dragon’s mouth. I was jerked and pulled against the rope, my jaws locked together, my eyes rolling wildly, my breath caught in my chest. I could have sworn my heart stopped. There was no feeling at all.

Then pain crashed in and my heart stuttered back to a start. I slumped against the tree, gasping.

Saboraak. My wonderful dragon. I will miss you.

Tor!

Saboraak!

My eyes shot open.

“I bet you’ve never seen that before,” Shabren said with a wide grin. “The Kav’ai call it a Lightning tree. Hurt it, and it defends itself and the way it does that is so entertaining. I’ve been practicing on the Kav’ai. Even they aren’t stoic enough for this.”

But I wasn’t listening to him. My mind was searching for her. Had I imagined her voice?

I come.

She could be close! She could be far away.

Tears were leaking from my eyes, but I didn’t know if that was hope or despair that I was feeling.

Could she save me in time? There were too many defenses. And Shabren. And the tree. I didn’t know if I could live through another one of those strikes.

“Stop whining and think,” the mimic demanded.

“He can’t think, shadow,” Shabren said. “He can only suffer.”

He looked behind him at the mimic and in the light of the fire I almost thought I could see a shadow clinging to his back. Could that be his shadow self? Could it be as my shadow thought – that they had merged, and the shadow was controlling him?

A thought sprung into my mind. I hoped the shadow wouldn’t say anything as the thought formed. It was so obvious. Why hadn’t I thought of it before?

“We’re too devious for the obvious,” the mimic said. He lifted his shadow axe.

The world rocked, the ground shaking below us. In the city, a fire bloomed up from one of the warehouses.

Almost there!

That couldn’t be Saboraak, could it? It wasn’t like her to attack a town.

Shabren swung around. “I’ll deal with that in a moment. But before I do, I will finish you.”

He lunged with the poker, jamming it into the tree and my body tensed as white lightning stabbed me from every direction. I was screaming so loud that I couldn’t hear anything. But through my bulging eyes, I could still see.

The mimic swung his axe, just as I had thought he might be able to do, severing the shadow from Shabren’s back.

Shabren screamed, snatching at his own shadow as it burst into a thousand pieces and floated upward like smoke on the wind. He fell to his knees, head in his hands.

I didn’t have time to think about what might happen next. One minute I was staring at the rising wisps of shadow, the next at the belly of a black dragon. The dragon whipped around, spinning in the air like a diver into the sea and then her mouth opened, coming right for me.

I screamed but my scream cut off when I saw the jaws shut delicately over the metal ring and tear it from the tree. Lightning blasted into her, but she shook it off.

Saboraak! My magnificent dragon!

I told you I was coming. She sounded smug.

“Come on!” My mimic screamed, leaping onto her back. She tossed me back and I flew through the air, landing roughly in the saddle, my hands still bound, my muscles fighting my commands. They were stiff and weak both at once from the lightning tree.

Hubric ordered me not to come, but I couldn’t leave you. I’d never leave you.

She was amazing. She was stunning! She was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.

Shabren pulled himself to his feet, pulling a flame rod from his belt. Saboraak whipped him with her tail, sending him flying through the air and not even stopping as she ascended into the sky.

I don’t have time for the likes of him and I’m not here to fight. I’m just here to take what’s mine.

Yeah!

And no one is going to stop me!

Wow. Maybe she had a shadow-self.

I think that if I do, it’s probably you.

And I was fine with that. Because shadows never ended up far from their source.

Dragon Chameleon: Shadow Quest

Chapter One

EVERYTHING HURT. MY ribs. My back. My legs. I clung to Saboraak like a child clinging to his mother. Oddly, it felt like my shadow was clinging to me, his own body flickering in and out of sight. His silence was a relief. With so many pain sensors firing across my body, I didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with him, too.

Though I owed him a debt of gratitude. Without him, we couldn’t have stood up to Shabren.

I would have scorched him with my flame.

I’d never seen this bloodthirsty side to Saboraak. What had happened to her?

I did not like it when he snatched you from me.

Well, if I’d known that was all it took to help her grow some teeth ...

I have forty-four teeth, thank you very much.

And a spine.

You’re sitting on my spine. Without it, we would both fall from the sky.

She still hadn’t shaken her tendency to take things literally, though. My head was pounding too hard to think of a clever reply.

We flew down the path of the river, low to the ground, and Saboraak descended into a small cluster of scraggly trees. A dark figure sprinted toward us.

“Watch out, Saboraak!” I yelled but all she did was laugh. I fumbled for the knife in the holster between my shoulder blades, but my pained movements were not fast enough.

The dark figure vaulted up onto Saboraak’s back. I startled when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. It didn’t feel like the marauder was trying to assault me.

“Well done, Saboraak! He seems to be in one piece!” Zyla said with a laugh.

“Gently!” I moaned. My belly hurt. “I’m in one piece of pain.”

I looked around, wondering if Hubric and Kyrowat were there, too.

They aren’t far from here. We caught up last night, but Hubric forbade a rescue attempt. He said our mission was too important to risk it saving you.

Always nice to know you’re loved. But why were they here if it was forbidden?

Zyla and I snuck off tonight. We decided your life was too important to risk.

“Thank you for coming for me,” I said aloud to both of them as Saboraak launched into the air again. We weren’t strapped in, but she was flying low and slow. I doubted Zyla would fall, though I felt a little lightheaded.

Zyla hugged me gently. “I’m starting to sense a trend here, Tor. You sure do need saving a lot.”

I grimaced. I didn’t like being the damsel in distress. I didn’t have the hair for it.

“Can I help it that everyone wants a piece of me? I’m just that desirable,” I said, but my wheezing made it sound less likely.

“You shouldn’t have pulled that stunt to save me,” Zyla said.

“Worked out, didn’t it?”

“If you call being kidnapped and rescued ‘working out’ then sure.” Her tone was dry and I grinned. I liked it when her back was up. Her eyes blazed that much brighter.

“How far away is Hubric?”

Not far. I plan to drop you off with him and then circle a bit.

Was she worried that we would be followed?

I just don’t want to be scorched when he lets loose his flame.

“I caught most of that,” Zyla said. “Or at least what she said.”

I startled. “You did?”

“Sure, she lets me listen to her voice.”

I’m not mute. Why pretend to be?

Male dragons didn’t talk to humans who weren’t their riders – except for the rare purple.

Males – of any species – can be very hard-headed.

Ouch.

“I thought about you a lot,” I said awkwardly to Zyla. “That kiss ...”

“Yes?”

“Well, I thought it would be sad how heartbroken you’d be if something bad happened to me.” I gave her an innocent look.

She huffed from behind me. “You were sad about how heartbroken I would be?”

“Sure. I’m a considerate guy.”

You’re an idiot.

Zyla huffed again.

“Zyla?” I asked. Nothing.

You really are terrible with women.

Why? Wouldn’t she be sad if I died?

I think you’re supposed to say how heartbroken you would be if you never saw her again.

Well, that went without saying.

It really doesn’t.

I groaned as a new burst of pain hit me. But Zyla was resolutely silent. Why did girls punish a guy for saying the wrong thing? It wasn’t like I was a mind-reader!

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Yes.” She didn’t sound like she meant it.

“Look, I mean, I obviously would have missed you, too. I mean, I did miss you. I mean, I’m glad you’re here.”

Her silence sounded louder somehow.

“I mean,” I said, “that I ... ummm ... was just teasing. You can take teasing, right? You’re tough.”

“Sure, Tor,” she said, but her tone was cold.

I’d said the wrong thing again.

Perhaps, when all of our adventures are over, you can write an instructional book for other young men detailing what you absolutely should not say to women.

Perhaps Saboraak should mind her own business.

If I minded my own business, you’d still be in the clutches of Shabren and that tree.

Sorry, Saboraak. The twist in my guts wasn’t just from my injuries. I shouldn’t take my dragon for granted.

You are forgiven. Now, brace yourself. As angry as Zyla is, Hubric will be angrier when we set down. We have almost reached his fire.

A red flower of flame flickered alongside the river and Saboraak descended toward it. I braced myself for whatever was going to come next.

Chapter Two

“ZYLA?” I ASKED AS THE silhouettes of Hubric and his big purple dragon drew closer. I pushed on past her stony silence. “I’m sorry. I always say the wrong thing. I owe you a lot and I haven’t forgotten that.”

Her silence lingered as Saboraak cupped her wings and settled on the ground.

Zyla cleared her throat and then squeezed my shoulder. Ouch! I hurt too much for that!

“Most of the time you’re a fool, Tor Winespring, but sometimes I can forgive foolishness ... if it comes with loyalty.”

I turned to catch a wry smile on her face, and I gave her one of my best grins. “Well, obviously I’m loyal, Zyla. I wouldn’t have jumped off a dragon onto a golem for you if I wasn’t.”

She bit her lip. “Listen, Tor, before Hubric talks to you ...”

“Yes?”

She shook her head. She was thinking better of it, but I could see a door shutting. If I let her shut that door it might not open again.

I leaned in with my best grin and said with a wink, “How about if we survive this, you can pick my punishment?”

She barely suppressed a smirk, but I could feel the frost between us melting.

“Zyla Cloudbender,” Hubric roared. “You had better have an explanation for this!”

Off!

I leapt off of Saboraak, flinching at the pain in my guts from the jump and Zyla landed right beside me. Saboraak’s leathery wing almost brushed our heads as she launched into the air again. I thought she was kidding about leaving us to Hubric!

I don’t kid about that.

“We couldn’t leave him, Hubric. You said yourself that we were short-handed.” Zyla stepped confidently toward the fire where Hubric sat, a steaming mug in one hand and Kyrowat’s snout under the other. Kyrowat glared at us through one open eye.

“And you, Tor Winespring,” Hubric grumbled. “You knew how important our mission was and you allowed yourself to be kidnapped by Shabren the Violet?”

I gaped. “I didn’t exactly allow ...”

I couldn’t quite stand up straight. The pain in my mid-section was still too much.

“Do you think he would have kidnapped me?” Hubric asked.

“Well – ”

“No. The answer is no,” Hubric roared. “He would not kidnap me, because I wouldn’t do anything so stupid. And you must learn to stop playing the hero. Heroics are admirable – in their place! – but you’ve grown too reliant on them. Sometimes, biding your time and thinking things through is best. Why do you look like you’re about to collapse?”

I groaned, the pain of my injuries suddenly hitting me in full force now that danger was passed. Zyla caught me as I slumped to the side.

“My captors didn’t treat me with your gentleness,” I muttered.

Hubric snorted. “Sit him down by the fire, Zyla. Where did that flaming she-dragon flap off to?”

There was a flurry of wings as Saboraak landed beside me, quickly squatting down so that Zyla could lean me against her. Hubric shook a finger at my dragon.

“If you think I won’t have words to say to you, too, think again! Special, you may be. And you are certainly needed. But do you think you’re free to act as foolish as your rider? Think again!”

“They saved my life,” I groaned. Those lightnings had not been easy on the joints and muscles.

Hubric snorted. “Did you really think we wouldn’t rescue you?”

Zyla made a sound that suggested that she had thought that.

“I was waiting for the opportune time.” Hubric looked a little embarrassed. “But I suppose that since you did it and succeeded, then that was the opportune time. But now we find ourselves in a bind, children. Can I assume that Saboraak’s rescue of Tor was ... spectacular?”

“Mmmm, the very best,” I agreed. I was feeling feverish. The world was too hot, and my head was banging like a Kav’ai drum. “She was like a hurricane.”

“Then we can assume you will be followed shortly?”

“Flew low,” I added. Suddenly the world was very cold. “Over the trees.”

Hubric stood quickly, strode over and laid a hand on my forehead. “They beat you, boy?”

“I beat them! Showed them who is boss!” My words were muzzy.

“This alters things,” Hubric muttered. “Get him a blanket.”

A moment later, Zyla was laying a blanket over me with comforting shushing sounds. She felt like she was a million miles away.

He leaned over me. “Fever and internal injuries.”

“What do we do?” Zyla asked tensely. She was so beautiful in the flickering firelight. Why did I say such stupid things to her?

“We can’t leave the Kav’ai holed up in those caves for much longer. I’d hoped to find Tor along the way and send him back to release them, but now one of us will have to do it.”

“I could ride Saboraak,” Zyla suggested.

The angry snort beside me startled me. There was a burst of light. Had Saboraak flamed?

If they think they are splitting us up, they can think again. You are my rider. And I won’t leave you while you are injured.

“Not possible,” Hubric muttered. “You can get him help just south of the border. You know the place where Eventen resides? His House of Healing? It will cost us, but I have credit there.”

“Of course,” Zyla said.

“You’ll need to take him there as quickly as possible and avoid Magikas. I’ll go back to the caves and open them. Try to avoid the enemy along the way.”

“Should we stay at Eventen’s House after Tor recovers?” Zyla asked.

Hubric sighed. “We don’t have time for this.”

“We have to do something,” Zyla protested.

“Did I say we didn’t?” He sounded angry – but not at her. I felt too tired to talk. Too tired to think anymore. Hubric sounded just as frazzled, like he’d run out of strength and energy.

He sighed. “You’ll have to go on without me. If all goes well in Woelran, then fly next to Estabis and I will meet you there when I’m done freeing the Kav’ai. You know how important this is, and you know who we can trust and who we can not. Get him inside Woelran to Captain Arendis. Make the plans you need to warn the Dominar and bring down the spies before war erupts. And hurry.”

She hesitated but he cleared his throat and locked her gaze with his own.

“You’ve done well so far, Zyla. You found out what we needed to know in Ko’Torenth. You are ready for this. And Tor – well, just remember that what he says, and what he thinks, and what he does are not the same.  No two of those things ever seem to line up. He might spout a stream of objections and foolishness, but when the fires are loosed, and the city is in flames it will be him putting it out.”

“I hope he can put this one out,” she said.

“He can. Tell him to read the book. It’s high time he knew what he was doing instead of fumbling in the dark.”

“I will.”

“We can’t sleep tonight. The golems will be here soon. I’ll help you make a litter for Tor to sling off the side of the saddle. Don’t look at me like that, Saboraak. Someone has to ride you and it has to be Zyla until Tor is fit again. You need to be fast if you want him to live. Understand?”

He leaned over me.

“Don’t die, boy,” he said gruffly. “Read the flaming book. And stay alive!”

It felt like only moments later that I was shaken awake as Hubric and Zyla lifted me with a grunt and then I was lying in a sling and being dragged jerkily up a hill.

Not a hill. My back.

I let my eyes close again and the next words I heard were in snatches. A question from Hubric. A sad sounding answer from Zyla, “I think I might love him.” Why was she so sad about whoever she loved? Muttered words. “Golems” and “Dominar,” and then “Message” and “Healer.”

I could use a healer right about now.

And then someone kissed my forehead, hot against my sudden chill, and adjusted the blanket around my chin and then we were lifting off into the air with nothing but the stars and the skies around us.

I slipped into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Three

WE TRAVELED THROUGH the night and I woke often, feeling too hot and too cold by turns. The pain in my belly gripped at me like a clawed hand on the inside – squeezing.

Sleep, Tor, you need your rest.

But sleeping was hard with that much pain in your belly. My eyes flickered open but then fell closed with heavy exhaustion. Above me, Zyla was muttering constantly.

“If he dies, Saboraak ... he just can’t, okay? He just can’t.”

And then later she was muttering to me, “Don’t die, you fool. I like you too much for that. I might even. Nevermind. That’s not your business. Yet.”

She must be emotionally overwrought. Those words were clearly just an emotional reaction. I may be the fool she thought I was, but I wasn’t fool enough to think that Zyla actually cared that much about me.

She’s saved your life a few times now. You don’t think that counts as love?

I’d saved Hubric’s life. That didn’t mean I wanted a happily-ever-after with him.

Was that a dragon laugh I was hearing?

Go back to sleep, Tor.

The next time I woke, sunlight flooded my vision. Zyla’s face looked down on me from the saddle.

“You’re awake! Do you need water?”

I fell asleep again before I could answer.

I felt so hot. Like I was burning up. Like a dragon was scorching me with flame. I opened my eyes. I was lying against Saboraak beside a fire, soaked in sweat. A blanket had been placed over me and my shirt was wet. Perhaps that same someone had tried to give me a drink? My harness and knife were gone but I was too weak and limp to look for them.

We were camped under a rocky overhang overlooking a valley.

Small rocks rattled as they fell down a hill, smacking against larger rocks. There was a scuffling sound and then Zyla entered my vision. Her hands were full of small leaves and roots.

“Because I don’t know if they will work,” she said. Who could she be talking to?

“Because I don’t know what’s wrong with him!” She sounded irritated now. Was she arguing with my mimic? I didn’t see him, but there were no audible words that answered her as she continued to argue. “It could be the internal injuries, right? Maybe he burst something inside and it’s trying to heal. Maybe there’s an illness inside I don’t know about. But you said there was some kind of magic going on, right? That this Shabren was fighting this shadow version of Tor? That’s weird stuff, Saboraak.”

My dragon. She was speaking to my dragon. Why weren’t they including me? My vision was blurring again, and I fell asleep listening to Zyla’s deep voice. I loved her husky voice. I could listen to it all my life.

“And if it’s something magical, then I don’t see how I can fix it. Even if it’s physical, these herbs might not be enough.”

All my life...

When I woke again, it was raining. We were flying through the rain and Zyla had spread a blanket over my sling. Winds whipped at Saboraak as she bobbed and weaved through the storm. They howled angrily, snatching away most of the loud curses that Zyla was spouting above me.

Was it raining gold? I shivered, my teeth chattering together, but I couldn’t push out the words to ask.

It’s dust mixed with rain. We’re looking for shelter. It came up out of nowhere. But I lost my bearings hours ago and we can’t see far enough to find a place to stop. I can’t just land blind. We could smack the ground hard – it could kill us all. I think we’re still heading south, but we could be flying in circles for all I know.

She sounded calm despite the situation. She was probably cold, too.

Hang in there, trout. I’ll find a way out of this for us. Just hold on, okay?

Zyla sounded like she couldn’t hold on much longer.

She’s starting to panic. She knows the rain isn’t good for you, but she doesn’t know what to do since we can’t find a place to land.

It would be okay. Saboraak was a reliable, conscientious dragon. The very best of dragons. She would find us a place to stay.

Your confidence warms me. Don’t fret, trout. It’s my turn to be a hero and I won’t let you down.

My mimic flickered into being above me, floating in the air.

“It’s been a while,” he said, glancing around him like our circumstances didn’t affect him.

I felt a knot form inside me. Despite everything he’d said about how badly I needed my shadow and how he had helped me defeat Shabren, I didn’t trust him.

“I wonder if Shabren survived that,” the mimic said. “He didn’t seem too well when I killed his shadow self.”

I needed a way to deal with the mimic. I couldn’t have him haunting me all my life.

“Killing that other shadow wasn’t good for us,” he said with a grimace. “Have you noticed that I’m having trouble stabilizing? This won’t be able to go on. Either I’ll die – which is bad for you – or you will have to learn to absorb me as Shabren did – which could also be very bad for you.”

I shivered at the thought of becoming like Shabren, taken over by his shadow self. I couldn’t allow that.

“Maybe if you just absorbed me a little at a time. You know, pick and choose what parts of me you want to add to your life?”

I heard his wheedling tone, but I would not do that. I didn’t dare do that. How could you ever be certain that it was you acting and not your shadow? How could you ever control what he did after that – through you?”

“You have no control,” he said, flickering. “And all this fighting against me isn’t good for you, either. Can’t you see how ill it is making you?”

He flickered again and vanished.

Could it be possible that he was right? Could I really be ill because I was fighting my own shadow? Had slaying Shabren’s shadow made him more powerful?

The wind buffeted me, shaking my sling back and forth and I fell into a haunted, shivering sleep.

I woke what felt like moments later at the sound of Zyla yelling over the wind.

“Hold on, Tor!”

Saboraak hit the ground so hard that I thought her knees would buckle. Fear shot through me and I tried to sit up, but I was too weak to paw myself upright. Are you okay, my heroic dragon?

I’m okay. I misjudged the landing. Twisted a foot. Banged up a wing. I just need a minute.

Dark figures loomed high on either side of us, impossible to make out in the pouring yellow rain.

Rocks, I think. A line of rocks like what you find near the sea.

We couldn’t be near the sea ... could we?

I don’t think so. Unless we’ve been flying even farther off course and for even longer than I guessed.

I tried again to sit, but my arms were weak.

Don’t bother. No point in unloading. Your sling is secure and strong. Lean against me for warmth. There’s nothing that can be done about the wet. I think Zyla might join you in the sling. There’s enough room for her. Hubric chose a good one when he raided the Kav’ai stores.

What would they have used this for?

They call it a “hammock” and they sleep in them. The one you are in can fit two, though they don’t usually tie people into them.

I felt down at my waist and found the rope securing me to the sling. How odd.

There was a scuffling sound and Zyla dropped down into the sling. There was room for her. Saboraak had been right. She spread her cloak on top of my blanket and then wormed her way under the blanket, snuggling up against me.

“If you’re awake, Tor, don’t get the wrong idea,” she said through chattering teeth. “I’m just very cold and wet and our options are limited. Besides, I don’t want you to get hypothermia.”

I tried to talk but all that came out was a heavy moan.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered.

I tried not to. I tried to enjoy the feeling of her so close that I could feel her warmth. But eventually, despite all my efforts, I fell into a troubled sleep.

Chapter Four

MY EYELIDS FELT LIKE they were glued shut when I finally woke, and I had to pull my lashes apart. I was covered in a skim of yellow grime that was starting to dry and crack on top of our blanket and Zyla’s cloak. She snored gently next to me and Saboraak’s loud snores rumbled against me in a way that made me feel safe and warm.

I tried to sit up and to my astonishment, I was able to push myself up enough to look around us. We’d landed yesterday – was it yesterday? In pouring golden rain that had been so thick that Saboraak couldn’t see. She’d thought that we’d landed in between a row of rocks.

My jaw dropped open when I saw where we had really landed in the storm.

Row upon row of metallic wolf-golems stood along a flat plain.

There were hundreds of them. They stood motionless, their usually bright eyes dull and their usually gleaming shells covered in a thick cake of yellow mud. The storm was a great equalizer. Thick yellow dust-mud had drifted around their feet creating ripples and dust banks that mirrored the shape and stance of each golem.

I tried to calm my breathing and to sit perfectly still. It was easy enough with my mind still foggy and my actions still slow from whatever malaise had taken me.

We had taken shelter in the middle of the army of our enemies. Far in the distance, I could see shapes that must be tents on the outskirts of the golem army. Those must be the tents of the Magikas who controlled these golems.

Did they need one Magika to every one of these wolf-shaped golems, or could one Magika direct a dozen of them? A hundred? A thousand?

I shivered.

The eye of the nearest golem flared to life.

“Wake up, Saboraak! Zyla! Up! Up!” I yelled.

Zyla sat up instantly, but her gaze was dulled with sleep and she looked around muzzily, shaking yellow mud from her hair and wiping it from her clothing.

“They’re awake,” I said, grabbing her arm with one hand to get her attention and pointing with the other. My hands shook from the effort. I was losing strength.

Two golems were awake now, their heads turning with the sound of metal-on-metal grinding as they looked at me.

Zyla shrieked wordlessly and leapt up, her foot finding the stirrup and her body leaping onto Saboraak’s back as she moved. She called to Saboraak as her hands quickly buckled herself into her saddle.

My dragon woke with a rumbling sound, shaking herself as she did. Had she forgotten we were on her back? Yellow mud flung in a thousand directions.

I was suddenly grateful that they’d tied me in the sling as it shook like a flag in the wind, the dust and mud flying from it. I held on tightly to the blanket and cloak, gripping them at the last minute.

Saboraak leapt into the air and I was flung back in the sling, but not before I saw three more eyes start to glow, their heads turning to me.

I felt oddly drawn to the golems – as if we shared some sort of kinship. It felt, almost, as if they were waiting for me to say something to them. The ones with bright eyes crouched down as Saboraak launched and in that moment, I couldn’t tell if they were hunching low right before jumping into the air to grab us or if this was some sort of strange acknowledgment of my dragon.

Either way, I was glad when the wind was strongly under Saboraak’s wings and she was soaring up and away from the camp, heading south over the muddy ground toward the green trees in the distance.

I’m getting my bearings. I think that was the original tent camp of the Magikas – the one just above the border. We need to head west to find Eventen House – where Hubric told us to go.

And your foot? Your wing?

They’re sore, but they will be fine. Rest now.

I studied the camp below as we flew by. It was larger than I remembered. Likely, it had grown while we were north in Ko’Torenth. The golem army was also new, but I was relieved to see that none of the flying golems had made it to this camp yet. If any of them had, they would be pursuing us by now.

Now that the danger had passed, I slumped back into the hammock, tiredness and pain washing over me. Would they have a cure for this at Eventen House like Hubric had hoped, or was I in more trouble than I realized?

I mulled on those worried thoughts, worry tinging everything so that I couldn’t enjoy the beautiful pink sunrise or the way the mist rose up from the hills below as we slowly left the dry lands to return to Dominion forests.

Zyla leaned over the side to speak to me.

“We’ll be flying for the rest of the day. No other option. You’d think we could land now that we’ve reached the Dominion. But there’s no Dominion presence here and that camp is close. We can’t risk a fire to warm up or dry off. Hopefully, our clothes will dry on the way. You were looking better for a while there.”

I had been. Perhaps it had just been the fear of seeing those golems.

“Hubric told me to make you read the book. If you’re awake, this might be a good time for it.”

She passed down the Ibrenicus Prophecies and I took the small leather-bound book in my hands.

“Thank you.”

“There’s water, too.” She passed down a waterskin and I drank thirstily from it. “Try to make it last. We can’t stop for a few hours.”

I lay back and opened the book. If nothing else, it might help me pass the time in a healthier way than my constant worry.

The book read like a letter at first:

These are the prophecies collected by Ibrenicus of Haz, son of dragons.

For the time comes soon in which these prophecies will be needed so that the world is not broken by a war between the earth and the sky. For long years we have fought, but peace is brokered, and we lay down arms. We shall grow sleepy in comfort and one day our children will have forgotten the grim battles fought for the peace they think they hold in their palms.

We know it is never so. No man owns peace. No man may hold it tightly and forbid its theft. We may only respond when war is brought to our gates and pray we respond right, for truth is often mocked and lies win hearts faster than flames consume a forest. Who can stand when men give way on every side to the force of their desires twisted against them?

It is for the wise that I collect these words and store them up in this book. That when the Chosen One arrives you will recognize what you see. When your salvation is near, you may lay hold of it. Do not wait. Do not doubt. Seize life while you still have breath and peace before it has dissolved like snow.

It made me think of something. Hadn’t there been a part like that where the other handwriting had begun? It was the work of this girl Savette.

The Chosen One. Saboraak’s voice in my mind startled me.

Had that Savette really been the Chosen One?

Yes. She saved the Dominion from the power of the Ifrits. She saved the dragons, too.

Well, then why was I reading this book if these things had already been done?

I think they need to be done again, over and over, to keep people safe. When one hero has won, another must take her place. There is no rest in the battle against the evil forces of this world. They do not rest, and neither can we.

Deep.

I suggest that you read her words. I suspect she saw to a time shortly after her death.

You mean that you think they are about us, just like Zin did.

I mean that while you were resting in Kav’ai, Zin talked to me a lot and I thought her ideas made sense.

Hmmm. If Saboraak thought they made sense, then maybe I should at least read them. I flipped to the back and began to read:

These are the prophecies of Savatte Leedris, daughter of the Dominion. I write to add to the prophecies of Ibrenicus of Haz – not because his prophecies are not applicable for many times but because in these days – my last days – I have seen visions of things to come. I hope they will lead and guide those who come after so that the cold of death does not cover the land and the brave do not falter in the desperate race for peace.

Fight your shadow.

Take it captive.

When hope is weak and certainty crumbled, do not let your heart say, ‘perhaps in this shadow there is light. Perhaps within it resides wisdom.

Each woman must journey to chain the shadow. Each man must take this quest. For when souls are ripped from bodies the earth will shake. When shadows run free, the world is at stake.”

I closed the book. She couldn’t really mean that, could she?

My mimic winked in an out of existence, a look of fierce anger on his face. Could this book be talking about him? He wanted me to absorb him. What if I needed to somehow take him captive?

Chapter Five

WHATEVER STRENGTH I’D found when we landed between the golems, left me as we flew west into a low range of mountains. I thought I felt the jostle of landing at least once, but I was feverish, coming in and out of a heavy sleep that did not seem to rest me. I sipped the water Zyla had given me and read snatches of the book, but I could hardly keep my eyes open.

“He commands armies with his visage. One glance and war withers.”

I dreamed of withering vines and people chasing me.

“His hands weave justice. His right hand divides truth.”

I dreamed I was chasing my shadow through endless skeins of wool.

I woke to a snuffling nudge.

We’re here, Saboraak said.

I moaned.

Hang on. Zyla is getting help.

I opened my eyes but they fell shut almost immediately again.

“Hurry,” Zyla’s voice said above me.

“Get him down and let’s see.” This voice sounded firm and powerful. “What happened to the boy? What are these markings on his face and arms? They glow in the moonlight.”

“It’s nothing,” Zyla said. “His injuries are why Hubric sent us here.”

“There is bruising, certainly. Bring him down from the dragon’s back and we’ll look at him inside.”

Hang in there, Tor. I will be right outside. Nothing will happen to you.

Why did Saboraak sound so nervous? Why did she shift from foot to foot like that?

“So, you’re a Green dragon rider?” the authoritative voice asked as Zyla lowered me to the ground with a creak of rope against saddle. “Strange that you’re mixing up with Hubric. He usually sticks to his own kind – Purples.”

Zyla didn’t answer.

“Let me fetch a litter,” the man said.

Zyla leaned in while he was gone, whispering in my ear. “Eventen is a good man and a talented healer, but he doesn’t need to know about Saboraak.”

Like I would let that slip.

“Or your markings,” she said.

Even I wished I could forget those. I heard scuffling footsteps.

“Here, roll him to the side and I’ll slip the litter under him,” Eventen said.

Zyla grunted as she rolled me onto my side. I tried to help, but everything felt so heavy. I clung to the little book as it all went dark again.

I woke to a real bed. A real, soft, dry bed and a crackling fire in a real hearth. There was the smell of food cooking and a kettle on the boil. I sighed happily and opened my eyes.

I was in a bed in a large room. A staircase wound up on one end of it and a door painted red was shut against the weather. Herbs hung in bunches from the railing and the crossbeams above my head – more herbs than I would have imagined anyone would need. Shelf upon shelf of stone jars stood stoppered against one wall and a long bench scattered with herbs and a big open book stood before the shelves.

I sat up, surprising myself.

“It was mostly magical,” Eventen said from the stove where he was frying eggs in a wide black pan. “The beating didn’t help your guts, but the malaise was mostly magical. Someone out there doesn’t like you much.”

“Most people don’t,” I replied.

He chuckled and turned to me. He was a big man – younger than I would have guessed – with thick, dark hair and a bitter twist to his mouth.

“You’re lucky I owe Hubric a debt. I used more of my resources on you than I’d like. I don’t run this herb house to do good. I run it to make a profit.”

I swallowed. I hated being in someone’s debt, but there was no way to repay him.

“Do you eat eggs?” he asked.

“Where is Zyla?” I asked.

“Zyla is it? She’s tending her dragon. You’re lucky you were picked up by a Dragon Rider. She’s a natural – and I’d know. Oh, I’d know. There’s a reason all the Dragon Riders come here for their herbs and tonics. Come and eat some eggs.”

I stood on unsteady legs, finding my breeches and shirt clean and dry beside the bed. The harness was even there with the single knife in its holster and a thick cloak had been laid out. I dressed quickly while Eventen’s back was to me. I didn’t trust the man despite the healing he’d given me. There was something about him that bothered me.

“Most of Hubric’s friends are up to something,” Eventen said as he brewed tea. “Are you up to trouble, boy? You can tell Eventen. I don’t see many people, and I don’t do things for free, but I could help you.”

I tried my best grin, “The only trouble I ever want is the difficulty of choosing which pretty girl to kiss.”

He turned from the tea and gave me a long hard look. My smile faded. So, charm and jokes wouldn’t work here.

“Your book is on the bench,” he said.

I snatched it up, tucking it away in my pocket.

“Dangerous stuff in that book,” Eventen said, serving out eggs and fat slices of hot bread. My stomach rumbled at the sight and I took a step forward. “The Ibrenicus Prophecies are dangerous enough. The Lightbringers,” his lips twisted around the word, “might have saved us from the Ifrits, but they’re a dangerous lot. They have ideas – strange ideas – about prophecies coming true and self-sacrifice and things that can take over a man’s life and get him killed.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up a finger. Instead, I chose to sit at the table. He sat down with me.

“Don’t bother denying your loyalties, boy. I looked through the book. I saw other things written, too. Things just as dangerous. If you go down that path, you’ll lose.”

“What path is that?” I asked, innocently. I took a sip of the tea, not certain I was allowed to eat without his permission, but he lifted a fork and began to tuck in.

“Lightbringers,” he said between mouthfuls. “Are always looking for heroes to stop wars and tell truth and save the world. That’s no life. Tell me, boy, are you a hero?”

“I’ve never claimed to be,” I said lightly, taking a quick mouthful of eggs. My belly rumbled loudly as the food hit my tongue. I ate as quickly as I could,  emptying my mouth just to fill it again.

Eventen leaned over the table until he was inches from my face. I swallowed my eggs but refused to back up. He might be ten years older than me, but I was no child to be pushed around. Not even by a healer. Not even by a healer I owed a debt to.

“I’m on your side boy. I don’t know what mess this young Dragon Rider and Hubric Duneshifter have thrown you into, but it’s not too late. I’ve healed you up and she isn’t here right now. My suggestion? Eat that food and run out the back door. You can hide in the woods where no one will ever see those tattoos. If you don’t, then you’ll end up like everyone else Hubric touches – a sacrificial lamb. Sure, you might stop a war. You might save the world from magical creatures. You might be the hero they desperately need, but that’s no life. Take my offer and run while you can. I can distract the girl and the dragon. There’s a bag of supplies right beside the back door.”

I swallowed, clenching my fist at my side. I could feel the scar on my hand growing cold – what he said was true. And I could see the future weaving out before me – a future of living in the forest, hunting and gathering, maybe making myself a fine wooden house like the one I was sitting in and eating hot eggs for breakfast every morning.

But then I thought of Saboraak. I’d never ride her again if I did that. I thought of Zyla and her fiery spirit and confusing ways. I remembered the last time I’d kissed her. I wanted to do that again. I thought of Bataar and Zin in those caves and of Hubric and Kyrowat flying through enemy lands to set them free again.

I couldn’t walk away from them all – even if what he said was true.

“I appreciate the advice,” I said, “and I appreciate the healing even more.”

His eyebrows rose like he was waiting for more. I could say something deep and meaningful, but that wasn’t really my thing. Flippant was easier.

“But I’d never choose a walk in the woods over a pretty girl’s company.”

Eventen stood up and opened a cupboard, fishing out a length of grey cloth that looked like smoke and folding it expertly into a narrow strip.

“At least tie this around your head. You look like an idiot with that golden crown.”

“Thanks.”

I tied the strip around my head as he suggested, but my thoughts felt heavy in my mind. He was right that I could just walk away. I’d gotten in over my head. And this was probably my last chance to back out or I’d end up as dead as he was warning me I would. But I couldn’t do that and still live with myself.

Worse than that, his comment about my golden daytime marking worried me. I still hadn’t seen my face in a mirror. But the suggestion that the marking I received when I was named Ko’roi looked like a crown disturbed me. Every time the cloth rubbed uncomfortably across my forehead, I was reminded that men who wore crowns usually ended up dead – whether the crown meant anything or not.

Chapter Six

I NEVER THOUGHT YOU would leave us, Saboraak said when I finally joined her again.

I brought Zyla her eggs, wrapped in a thick piece of bread. She hadn’t come in to eat.

“Good, you’re here,” she said when I arrived, taking the food. “We’re all saddled up and ready to go. You’ve expressed our gratitude?”

She was so stiff, not looking me in the eye. I flinched from her words. Wasn’t she happy to see me?

“You could still reconsider, you know,” Eventen said. I thought he was talking to me but when I turned around, he was leaning over Zyla. “Other Dragon Riders have settled down outside their structure. Dragon School can’t force you to serve them if you really want to go. You’d like it here. I have more books than you saw last night. Books on every topic. We see traders through at least once a month. And the craft keeps the mind endlessly busy. You would like it. It’s the kind of life an intelligent woman craves.”

She blushed, looking down. “I have other obligations.”

My mouth dropped open. Was he –?

Surely, you’ve seen a man propose marriage to a woman before? I read this is done commonly among your species.

Was that why he was offering me an out? He wanted to sweep Zyla away from me?

I’m not sure she’s entirely yours, Tor. You can’t hear her heart fluttering like I can.

Was she kidding? My eyes had grown so large they started to glaze over. She had to be kidding! I felt my fists ball up and my jaw clench. If he thought –

Mount up.

Ha! Unlikely. I was going to give him a chance to practice his healing arts ... on himself! Why wasn’t I breathing naturally? Who told my heart to speed up like that?

Mount up, Tor. Shake out of it. The man just healed you from a magical infection. You can’t hit him in the jaw.

My scar burned icy cold and I flinched from the truth in her words. I could almost see the future weaving in the sky above me – me punching Eventen in the jaw, Zyla’s cold look in response, my flying away on Saboraak leaving her here with him...

You wouldn’t have left me, anyway. I knew that you wouldn’t even when I heard him asking you to go.

I would never leave you, Saboraak. I shot a baleful glance at Eventen and mounted Saboraak, strapping into her saddle. Zyla had stashed the sling away and everything was in order, ready for our next leg of the journey.

Zyla. Why would her heart be beating faster at an offer from an old man?

I don’t think he’s even thirty yet. He’s hardly old.

Thirty? That was far too old for her!

Is it? I have trouble gauging these things with humans. Thirty-year-old hatchlings are barely trusted to leave the nest on their own.

Dragons and humans were not the same. I ground my teeth together. Marriage!

“Zyla!” I called, louder than I’d meant to. “We need to get going.”

She looked back at me over her shoulder, her golden eyes guarded before murmuring something to Eventen.

Girls were the worst. She’d been kissing me only days ago and now she was whispering with Eventen and letting her heart beat faster! Who would even consider someone like him for a husband? The way he leaned against that tree, slightly hunched so that his dark hair covered one of his eyes – was that something girls even liked? He looked too lazy to live. In a battle, he’d be more worried about how he looked than walloping the other man. And why would he be asking her for marriage?

Her parents taught her a lot. She’s well educated, and she knows herbs. She’d be an asset to him. Plus, I think he’s lonely.

Well, it was obvious why he would want her, but what made him think she would want him? Ha! Good luck with that! A life stuck in a stupid little wood house.

The very house you were thinking about imitating only minutes ago ...

With a stupid hairy oaf of a man.

The very man who just healed you of a magical malaise ...

Anyway, she’d be a fool to take the offer.

“If you don’t come now, I’ll leave without you!” I called.

You sound desperate.

I do not!

Don’t worry, Tor. You and I can fulfill the mission with or without Zyla.

It wasn’t the mission I was worried about. It was the way my chest felt all raw and achy. Don’t tell Zyla about that, Saboraak! I’m warning you!

By the time she peeled herself away from Eventen and mounted Saboraak, my ears felt so hot that I thought steam might be pouring out of them. I sat patiently as Saboraak rose up into the air and soared above the evergreens toward the west.

We were on our way to Woelran. Zyla hadn’t had time to tell me why we were going there yet, but as sure as breathing I wasn’t about to ask her. Not right now when she’d almost been swept away by a moody man in a wooden house full of dead plants.

I treated her to a stony silence. It was the most she deserved for talking to that big creep.

You sound ridiculous. Listen to yourself.

After Eventen House was well in the distance, Zyla spoke up.

“Woelran is rife with spies and enemies. We will need to be careful there and disguise ourselves well.”

I grunted.

“It’s a good thing that Eventen gave you that cloth for your forehead,” she said.

It was all I could do not to snatch it off. My hands were gripping the saddle so hard that my knuckles were white.

“I wouldn’t have stayed, you know,” she said airily.

“But you wanted to,” I spat.

She sighed.

“Haven’t you ever thought about living a different life? Even for a moment?”

“No,” I lied, and my scar burned red hot against my skin.

Chapter Seven

I PICKED AT MY CLOTH headband irritably as we flew. I wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable. Saboraak changed colors and shapes three times before settling on purple with a longer neck than usual and delicate features.

It’s hard not to be uncomfortable with both of you sitting in stony silence.

Well, I wasn’t going to be the one to speak first!

“And you shouldn’t have to,” my mimic agreed, lounging on Saboraak’s neck. “She was supposed to like you. She was supposed to want to kiss you. You should remind her that you’re basically the Chosen One for a whole group of people and that you’ve beaten Magikas and nobles and even this dragon belongs to you!”

I frowned. When he put it that way I sounded petty. Besides, I thought I was rid of him.

“Hardly,” the mimic said. “Destroying that other shadow took a lot out of me. I’ve had ... effects.”

He flickered.

But you’re still here. I didn’t say it aloud. I didn’t want Zyla to think I was crazy.

“You won’t be rid of me so easily.”

He vanished and Saboraak huffed loudly. She still thought I was crazy. I felt like I could chew nails.

Everything seemed to irritate me from the rub of the cloth around my forehead – I’d never asked for those markings! – to the way the sun shone a little too brightly over the dewy evergreens. The snow in these mountains was sparse. There were hardened icy lumps of it in narrow drifts with crusted edges, but nothing fresh. Between the ragged drifts, wet squelchy ground showed.

I didn’t know if I preferred the blistering cold of Ko’Torenth or the heat of the Kav’ai deserts, or this wet land. But I knew I was in a bad mood. Why did Zyla have to go and make eyes at Eventen?

Why don’t you stop moping and actually tell her how you feel? Then maybe she won’t feel the need to make you jealous. I don’t understand you two at all!

I picked at the folded cloth and looked out over the evergreens. I couldn’t see the sea in the distance, though Saboraak said it was there.

Patience. You will see the sea soon. I think you will like it. I have always loved oceans. Did you know that there are dragons who live under the sea?

Impossible! Dragons were heat and fire, not cold and wet!

Dragons come in many forms. Those in the sea are very ancient. They have not been plagued by human wars as we have – though they have their own troubles.

How do you know about them?

Just because I have not traveled much in human lands doesn’t mean I haven’t traveled at all. I have met sea dragons. You’d like them. They’re blue.

Blue! Could Saboraak turn blue?

I could, but that would be poor camouflage up here on land, don’t you think? People don’t expect blue dragons here. And sea dragons don’t have the same kind of wings.

It was hard to stay mad when I was thinking about blue dragons. Maybe we’d go visit them when all of this was over. I could see us on an island somewhere, staring down into the sea at ancient dragons ...

“I like that idea. An island is bound to have treasure,” my mimic said, flickering in for a moment, picking at his teeth and flickering out again. I almost hated him more now that he was only there now and then.

I’ve been thinking about your mimic problem, Saboraak thought.

Did that mean she finally believed me?

I don’t know. But I have been thinking about a solution anyway. Even if the mimic isn’t ‘real’ he needs to be dealt with because clearly, he’s ... on your mind.

Or in my mind.

Yes.

Well, her advice couldn’t hurt. Saboraak could be wise sometimes.

Thank you for the vote of confidence. She paused mentally before continuing. Everyone has parts of who they are that are tainted. They aren’t who they wish they were. Those parts don’t line up with what they know is good and right and true. Now, most people hide that part of themselves – or at least dragons do, and I think humans must, too. They hide it down deep and try to forget it’s there. Maybe they get so good at hiding it that they think it doesn’t exist anymore, that they aren’t that person, that they aren’t capable of those things. And then something happens, and the shadow gets out and they come face to face with it. What do they do?

Go crazy?

No. They try to ignore it and pretend it never happened. And for some people that works – sort of. You can live a shallow life without ever acknowledging that shadow even though it walks around with you all day. But you’ll never control it. It might reach out and act at any time. For others, it doesn’t work. They can’t ignore it so they acknowledge it’s them and they live with heavy guilt or shame about it.

That sounds awful. If you think that I ...

Oh, I don’t think you’d feel shame about anything, Tor. No, you’re more likely to be like Shabren and embrace that shadow. Let it show you new ways to look at things. See the depths of exactly how much power you have – for good or for evil.

Well, when she put it like that it didn’t sound so bad, but the shadows had taken over Shabren.

And unless you get control of that shadow, it will take over you, too. Maybe just a little at first. You find it helpful. It gives you what you want, so you let it take over when you really need it. But ‘need’ changes as time goes on. What you thought of as needs before, become givens and new things become needs as you want more and more. So soon enough, you will let that shadow take over more often and more often. Slowly. Until it eats you alive.

I shivered as my shadow flickered in and out of sight. His saucy grin made my palms sweat. I couldn’t trust him. Because he was me. But what could I do then? There was no other option.

Wrestle him. Keep him under control. Know he exists. Know he is a potential, but don’t feed him. Don’t lean on him.

He helped me with Shabren.

But what if next time it isn’t Shabren? What if next time it’s Zyla? I heard that shadow pushing you to resent her. Pushing you to arrogance and pride. You have to fight, Tor. You have to put chains on that shadow and force him to obey you, not the other way around. You have to leash him and chain him. You have to wrestle with him until he is under your control.

He thought that if I did that, we’d both be destroyed.

It’s in his interest to lie to you about that.

I wished he didn’t exist at all.

If wishes were fishes the sea dragons would be as rich as ... well, sea dragons, I guess. They’re a wealthy lot. You wouldn’t believe what comes out of the sea.

I swallowed, clenching and unclenching my fists. My mimic sat right in front of me and laughed. If I was going to follow Saboraak’s advice – and that was the only advice I had to go on – then I needed to find a way to wipe that grin off his face.

“Zyla,” I said, my gaze holding the gaze of the mimic. “I apologize.”

His grin disappeared and he flicked out of existence again.

Chapter Eight

“IT’S ABOUT TIME!” ZYLA said. “I thought you were going to freeze me out all day and there is a lot I have to tell you, Tor Winespring!”

I looked over my shoulder, trying hard not to smile at the way her angry eyes grew bright and her arms crossed just under her breasts. She was so pretty when she was angry. And she was angry with me a lot.

Saboraak ducked down lower into the forest as she flew so that we were flying between the big trees now instead of above them. We were still in the low mountains, following the bases of them through winding valleys and thick trees rather than flying above them.

If we plan to sneak up on the sky city of Woelran, then we should probably stay hidden. There are outposts in these mountains. We don’t know where their loyalties lie.

“Like what, Zyla?” I asked, teasing her a little. Now that the mimic was gone again, it felt easier to be myself. “Like how attractive I am in this smoky headband?”

She snorted, but her expression softened a little.

“Or maybe,” I said, letting a smirk fill my face, “how much you’ve been dying to kiss me again?”

“Your head is so big that it’s a wonder Saboraak can fly!” Zyla retorted, but she uncrossed her arms. It was working. I was warming her back up.

“It’s okay, Zyla, it can be hard to admit these things.”

She scoffed, shaking her head, but this time she couldn’t stop the smile that slipped out from behind her mock outrage.

“Just be glad that I saved you again, Tor. Whatever that magical malaise was could have killed you.”

“I’m tougher than you think, Zyla. It would take a special kind of adversary to bring me down.”

Dragons!

Not now, Saboraak! I’m finally getting some points here!

“Maybe –” Zyla began, but I didn’t get to hear the rest of her words.

Saboraak lunged left and we were both knocked out of our seats. I grasped at the saddle, catching the horn in both hands. Skies and stars, what if I hadn’t been strapped in? Behind me, Zyla cursed quietly. Her straps had also held.

I lifted my head just in time to see a flare of flame ahead of us. Saboraak shot above it and then dove down almost to the ground before rolling between the tree trunks.

“Halt!” a steady voice called.

I was still trying to stay in the saddle and get my bearings. How many golems must there be to herd Saboraak like that? I hadn’t even caught sight of one yet.

I told you it’s dragons!

I looked over my shoulder.

Two big Green dragons flapped behind us, their riders moving their hands in frantic talk. Hubric hadn’t taught me those hand signals yet. In fairness, there hadn’t really been time.

Should we stop, Saboraak? They seem to want us to stop.

A third Green dragon dropped in front of us and Saboraak veered immediately around him, banking hard to avoid a tree. Zyla screamed and I clenched my teeth.

You think? Of course I’m trying to stop!

Why would dragons be so aggressive with us? They were on our side!

A fourth Green dragon was pulling up beside us, flaming wildly, though not directly at us. A tree beside us went up like a lit torch.

The dragon’s neck seemed wider than normal, almost as if it were swollen. On his back, a true Dragon Rider in black leathers and green scarves cursed loudly.

So much cursing! You all need to watch your language!

The Green dragon spouted flame again, hooting wildly – a sound I’d never heard from a dragon before.

Idiots!

Saboraak rolled to the side, presenting her armored belly to him and then she backward-somersaulted upward through the trees. Evergreen branches whipped against my face sending particles of frozen ice and fragrant pine needles into my hair, my mouth, my eyes. Ouch! I clenched my eyes tightly and gritted my teeth.

“What’s happening?!” Zyla yelled, her arms wrapping tightly around my waist.

I had no time to enjoy the feeling. Above us, another stream of flame spouted and Saboraak barrel-rolled to the side again, barely missing the trunk of a tree as wide around as she was.

I tried to hold back my own scream. No need to tell the world that I was scared, too. I held on, white-knuckled, to the saddle, trying to think about why under the skies and stars these Green dragons and their riders would be attacking us.

Saboraak was flying so low to the ground that her wingtips kicked up spouts of hardened snow and wet orange pine needles. She timed her flaps to clear the trees on either side. There was an opening ahead – a lighter patch in the forest. We were aiming for it.

Dragons had pulled up on either side of us now, both Green and both hooting wildly, their flames bursting as if at random at bushes and trees along the way. I thought there were more behind us, but I couldn’t count in the flurry of fire and flight. Did these Dragon Riders not care what fires they started?

I risked a glance behind us. We left a trail of fire and smoke in our wake but more fearsome still was the Green dragon directly behind us. His rider sawed at the reins, his face twisted into a fearsome snarl.

My heart was racing faster than the dragons. I looked up. Was there a way to escape?

The hard belly of a Green dragon was inches from my head.

My breath stuck in my throat. All thoughts seemed to freeze.

And then we were in the clearing.

Saboraak skidded to a stop, her claws tearing divots into the damp remains of last year’s grass and rotting wooden debris. This small field, sodden and puddle-filled, barely held her and the ring of Green dragons that surrounded her. One of them spouted fire into the air, standing on his back legs and hooting wildly.

I snatched the dagger from the holster between my shoulder blades, unbuckled my straps and leapt from the saddle rushing out in front of Saboraak. She crouched low, jaw tense, eyes bright. The purple of her skin seemed to pulse as if she was having trouble maintaining her color.

“If you want my dragon, you’ll have to get through me first!” I yelled.

Chapter Nine

THE STANDING DRAGON leaned forward, grabbed my leg with a forepaw and snatched me from the ground. I yelled as he raised me into the air and shook me like a child trying to shake a coin out of a small jar. My teeth rattled against each other. If I’d had knives still in my sheaths, they would be raining all over the ground.

“Enough!” a voice yelled, powerful and angry.

How exactly did he want me to comply with that? I wasn’t exactly in a place of authority.

“Set him down. Tachril!”

Oh. He was talking to the dragon.

The dragon flung me to the side like a used rag and I landed with a wet smack in one of the cold puddles. I pulled myself up, my fingers sinking in the clinging dead grass, my boots squelching with water.

Saboraak growled and I hobbled over to her, my water-filled boots dragging and squelching with every step.

I’m afraid that they don’t see you as much of a threat.

Tell me about it.

“What do you want with us?” I asked, keeping my back straight and my head held high. If they were going to kill us, I wanted to at least die with dignity. Besides, perhaps I could distract them while Saboraak and Zyla flew away.

They don’t want to kill us.

That’s not what it looked like!

They’re just ... excited.

What? They don’t see guests all that often? Craving some interactions with sane creatures?

The rider on the back of the dragon who’d grabbed me leapt down from his mount, a short dragon prod in his hand. I felt my spine getting stiffer. If he thought he could use that against Saboraak, then I would die keeping him from her!

A noble sentiment, but it’s not me he’s worried about.

“I am Nostar Kaardis of the Green Dragon Riders, leader of this wing and stationed at Woelran. We are scouting this area. My dragon is Tachril.” He gave Tachril a worried look. “I’ve never seen him in such a temper before. Usually, he likes Purples just fine.”

And he likes females even more.

I felt like the pieces of a blacksmith’s puzzle were sliding loose. I looked from dragon to dragon. Each of the six was spouting flame or standing on his back legs or twitching his tail with agitation, his rider desperately trying to keep his mount under control.

Was that ... attraction? Dragon attraction?

These things can be complicated.

Saboraak seemed completely at ease, maybe even disinterested. She stood with her wings neatly furled, Zyla still sitting straight up in the saddle.

“These others,” Nostar continued. “Are Janes Wooldancer on Hyoogan, Letina Seedshower on Nazscal, Jordil Runehopper on Elumans, Karilion Daniis on Nelmper and Devind Carthandler on Izhoedi. It’s rare to see a Purple here. Do you carry a message?”

I nodded. “I have a verbal message to deliver to Captain Arendis in Woelran.”

The Green nodded, waiting expectantly and I coughed to disguise the fact that I didn’t know what to say next.

Introduce us!

Oh, yes.

“I greet you, Green Dragon Riders,” I said, attempting a flourish of my cloak. What did I say next? We were supposed to be undercover, but no one had given me false names to use.

Don’t make us look foolish.

“I am Tor Barnminder and this is my dragon Sabaa.” Best to keep the names close enough to the truth that we wouldn’t slip up. Zyla was looking daggers at me. I’d have to give her a better fake name. And my companion “Zylana Candis.”

She didn’t look any happier, even though I’d given her a noble surname instead of her real commoner surname. There were two nobles in this group of Greens and I wouldn’t have thought she’d want to admit to being a commoner around them.

“Well met, Tor,” Nostar said, breaking out into a grin. “I know Purples are an informal lot, but you sure have taken an independent streak to your uniform! I’d almost thought your dragon was stolen, but he acts just like a Purple, standing still when you drop the reins. I’ve never understood how your color trains them to do it. Greens are so exuberant that they take constant minding.”

I grinned back at Nostar, glad to see the tension fading. We needed his good favor if we were going to make it to Woelran.

“Well, thank you, Nostar. We appreciate your welcome. For a moment there, it looked like you were trying to drive us away.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty look on his face. “It’s not like that, Tor. No, no. I mean, we have had some trouble through here lately, which is why we’re riding in a wing instead of as individuals, but we’d never attack a fellow Dragon Rider. I can’t tell you what got into our Greens. It was almost as if they’d smelled a female!”

He laughed and I joined him awkwardly. “Has that ever happened?”

There were smirks from around the group of dragon riders and I kept a friendly smile on my face to remind them ‘we’re all friends, just joking like friends.’

“Of course not! We have not been privileged to travel to Haz’drazen lands and females don’t venture out of their lands. I’m only jesting with you boy.” He looked serious for a moment. “You did train at Dragon School, didn’t you?”

There was a sudden sense of tension, as if everyone had frozen, waiting for my answer.

“Hubric Duneshifter was my mentor,” I said easily.

The tension evaporated immediately.

“Well, it’s obvious why you’re so unorthodox, then!” Nostar said, still smiling.

He moved with quick, graceful movements, always looking like he was about to take off at a run. He reminded me of a dog I’d once seen in the city. He’d been full of the adventure of life, certain that the next bone was just around the corner. These riders seemed the same way. I could get used to this.

“Tor?” Zyla said coolly. “Perhaps you could ask our friends if we could continue on. We haven’t reached Woelran yet, and our message is urgent.”

“Oh!” Nostar looked surprised, but then he smiled. “I’ve thought of the best plan! We’ll escort you, of course! We were going to head back to Woelran tomorrow anyway. We’re still newly posted there and we’d only set down in the city for an hour when we first arrived before they already had us on our way without half the supplies we needed! The rumors of huge wolves were either exaggerated or a complete fabrication. We found nothing, but we do need those supplies and you wouldn’t want to tangle with trouble through the mountains.”

“I thought we were almost out of the mountains,” Zyla said.

“Even more reason for protection,” Nostar said. One of the female Dragon Riders – Letina? – nodded enthusiastically at his words. She was short and redheaded, and I liked how she smiled at me. “The north is flooded with Magikas. Most are no problem, but the Reds are having a devil of a time with some of them. They’re torching farms and causing trouble from Dominion City to here. Winter is hard enough this year – even here in the West where the war didn’t touch them as much. We don’t need more trouble. And we’ve heard of travelers disappearing.”

“We shouldn’t let these people disappear,” Letina said with a knowing smile.

I risked a glance behind me at Zyla. If storm clouds could turn into people, they would look just like Zyla right now.

“Right ho!” Nostar yelled. “We fly in five! Stand ready!”

Five what?

Minutes.

There was a flurry of sudden activity, people fishing in their saddlebags for items and leaping off their dragons for a quick run behind the bushes. I tried to shake the water out of my clothing, but I was dripping wet and I didn’t have spares.

I mounted Saboraak soaking wet, hoping that I didn’t catch my death. Just because it was warmer here than in the mountains didn’t make it warm enough to fly all day in wet clothes.

They’ll dry. Try to lean over my neck to warm up.

Zyla tapped me on the shoulder and I looked back at her feeling as guilty as Nostar dealing with his hormonal dragon.

“Yes?” Did I dare hope she was going to congratulate me on diffusing the situation?

“What were you thinking?” she hissed. “How are we going to sneak into the city surrounded by six green dragons?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “Maybe we’ll look natural. Do Purple dragons usually have an escort?”

“No!”

“We’ll figure something out,” I hissed back.

I hope you do, or our protectors might become prisoners before we can blink.

Well, I wasn’t the one who’d drawn them all to me like some dragon-sized magnet.

Can I help that?

I don’t know. Can you?

No!

Well, I’d figure out something. After all, the Dominion was our nation. We should be welcome here.

Most places, that’s true. But you know that Zyla heard rumors about Woelran. And the rumors aren’t good.

How bad could it be? After all, these Dragon Riders seemed nice enough. Was that a dragon sigh I heard from my Saboraak?

Tor? Saboraak asked as Nostar gave the command and we launched into the air surrounded by Green dragons.

Yes? I couldn’t believe how majestic six dragons looked when they were flying together above the trees – seven when you counted the majestic one I was sitting on.

Why did you stand in front of me back there?

No one was going to hurt my dragon while I was there to stop it!

You are aware that I am a massive hunk of bone and muscle capable of ripping another dragon’s neck in two and able to produce a flame that can melt some metals?

I was aware.

And you – brave as you are – are only human?

Still aware. Did she have a point?

I admire your courage.

I smiled, drinking in my dragon’s companionability, the beauty of a late winter afternoon, and the majesty of the powerful dragons flying all around us.

Woelran wouldn’t be all that bad. In fact, Zyla was probably just overly anxious.

Zyla leaned forward in the saddle. “I need to tell you about Woelran.”

Chapter Ten

“WHAT DO YOU ALREADY know about Woelran?” Zyla asked.

“Coastal city on the northwest corner of the Dominion. Common last name.”

“Common? I don’t think so. Unlike other Castelan families, the Woelrans are not very large. There are only a handful of them. Why? Who have you met who is a Woelran?”

“Well, do you remember that golem rider? The one who wore a helmet and led Shabren’s golems?”

“She was a Woelran?”

“Weren’t you listening when Shabren introduced her?”

“I had other things on my mind!” Zyla said, her tone high pitched in her defensiveness. “This Woelran, did you ever see her face? Was she pretty?”

“I suppose. But older. Thirties, I’d guess.”

Zyla was nodding. “And did you see signs of magic use?”

“All those golem riders are Magikas.”

She was still nodding. “It must be Katlana. She’s an important Woelran. The sister of Castelan Tenn Woelran who currently leads Woelran City.”

“That’s the name she gave,” I said dryly.

“Oh.” She colored prettily. “I guess I could have asked you for her full name.”

“She seemed like she knew what she was doing – like she was going to be hard to fight against. She was also kind to me – relatively speaking.”

Zyla was nodding. “I was worried about Woelran for two reasons. First, Tenn Woelran’s sister kept coming up as an ally of Shabren and then of Apeq. Apeq also had letters from Tenn Woelran. They’ve been trying to get him to influence a cousin to bring Baojang back into conflict with the Dominion. I had a feeling they weren’t succeeding, but that all might change when he sees an army of golems marching on his city.”

“A cousin? They have cousins in Baojang?” That was one country I never wanted to visit. They said that everyone there was a violent trickster. If I wanted to see that, I’d just look in the mirror.

“There’s one who is rumored to be married to one of their Princes. A recent development.”

Below us, the mountains were falling away and the forest thickening. Plumes of smoke rose in the honeyed sunlight above the forest, indicators of humans living there. I could use some friendly civilization. Ko’Torenth didn’t count since almost everyone there seemed to want to kill me.

“Anyway,” Zyla was saying. “We will need to be careful in Woelran. Anyone could be a traitor. Even these cheerful Green Dragon Riders.”

If I had gone to Dragon School, I had planned to choose Green.

I’m better than any Green.

I liked how boisterous they were as they rode, leaping to the front of the crowd and displaying an interesting trick before falling back and letting the next dragon have a try. It looked easier than worrying about who was trying to kill who and use which nation’s army to do it.

I sighed.

Responsibility was a death of sorts.

“A death you were never meant to die,” my mimic said, appearing suddenly on Saboraak’s neck. “Maybe you should leave them to it and keep flying south. Go to Saboraak’s lands. I bet they have a lot of fun there.”

Tell your worse half to shut up.

That was strong language coming from Saboraak. The mimic thumbed his nose at her, and her neck lengthened, zooming all the way around as if to pluck him off the base of her neck. She flamed across it and the mimic vanished.

I gasped. Flinching back from the heat of the flame.

I looked around hurriedly, hoping none of the Greens had noticed. They’d all moved up ahead of us as one of them did the equivalent of a cartwheel in mid-air. I breathed a sigh of relief and Saboraak returned to her Purple dragon shape.

Showed him. I bet he was impressed.

If you’d be caught, we would have all been in trouble. I’m not the only one with responsibilities!

But I couldn’t frown too hard. I liked that she’d shown the mimic who was boss. I nearly jumped out of my skin when Zyla tapped me on the shoulder again, though.

“You’d better watch Saboraak,” she whispered, tucking her chin over my shoulder so her words were only for me. “She could get caught goofing off like that. Even if she was just telling you off for whatever fool thing you were thinking.”

Saboraak wasn’t the only one who knew how to have a good time. Dropping the reins I was only holding for show, I wrapped an arm behind me, placed my palm on the small of Zyla’s back and pulled her in closer to me.

She squeaked but made no move to pull away.

“I like you riding up here with me,” I said, teasing. “That way there’s no room for you to plant a dagger in my back.”

I could almost hear her eyes rolling. “You know there was nothing going on between Eventen and me. I was just thinking ... just for a moment.”

“And what are you thinking about now?” I asked.

“Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, a wicked smile, and devilish good looks.”

I began to grin.

“That Nostar sure is a good-looking Dragon Rider,” she finished.

My grin sagged at the same second her giggles began. Zyla. She sure could burn my socks! I needed a nice girl like Zin not one who –

Is more than a match for you?

No! One who teases me and –

Keeps up?

One who lectures me and –

Is right?

I gave up. At least Zyla’s chin felt nice tucked over my shoulder.

I pulled out my book of Ibrenicus prophecies and began to read. I was nearly through Savette’s prophecies, though they still hadn’t become clear to me. At least they were easy to remember. I found them coming back to me as I ate or fell asleep or looked at the floating clouds. There was something about them that stuck in the memory.

We flew like that – me reading and Zyla looking over my shoulder – until we could see Woelran.

Chapter Eleven

WOELRAN CLUNG TO THE edge of the sea like a giant oak tree rising above a pond. The roots of the city spread further than Vanika’s ever had, and the top of the sky city seemed to branch more, too. It had been so long since I’d seen a healthy sky city that I gasped, a sense of well-being filling me. It was almost like coming home.

I would have loved to watch the Magikas grow these in the early years of the Dominion.

Funny, thinking of a time when Magikas had been our friends and allies and not our enemies.

They only became enemies in the Truth War.

The what?

That’s what people are calling the war your Dominar and her enemies fought against the Ifrits – the dust spirits. They’re calling it the Truth War.

It would always be the ‘Fire’ War in my mind. I’d watched my city burn twice. Once when they toppled her and once when she was set ablaze by that very Dominar. A mistake, she’d called it, but still an awful tragedy. I wondered what she was doing now.

When you were unconscious Eventen gave Zyla the latest news. The Dominar has withstood three Magika assassination attempts in the past weeks. In the last attempt, her dragon – Raolcan – ate one of the assassins.

My eyes went wide. He ate him? I remembered Raolcan. He was bigger than Saboraak and more gnarled with a sharp edge she didn’t seem to have, but I couldn’t imagine Saboraak eating anyone.

I don’t think I’d care to eat something that thinks on a higher level. No. That feels wrong to me.

But I bet it put a damper on the assassination attempts, didn’t it? Had Eventen told Zyla all of that? He was very well informed for a man so far from anyone else. Did he have some secret means of communication or travel?

He had a dragon there, a little way out in the forest. A gold.

You didn’t mention that before!

You were somewhat preoccupied with jealousy. Besides, he seemed like he was on our side. He fed me. Tended your wounds. He studies things. He’s interesting.

Yes. He was interesting, wasn’t he? And he’d given me breakfast and an opportunity to leave. And that’s what worried me. Why had he suggested that I leave? Could it only have been because of Zyla? Most people were desperate to find a more responsible, better Tor. They were always seeing the worst in me and demanding that I overcome that. He saw the worst in me ... and offered to promote that. It made me nervous.

Saboraak shifted under me. Perhaps she was nervous, too.

We were close enough to Woelran now that the sky city filled my vision. Black dragons flew in orbits around the city, guarding and protecting it. Even now, a pair of them broke off from their path to intercept our band of merry Greens.

The city rose up before us, built tier upon tier on a lattice of skysteel formed from magic. The stem of the city holding that lattice had strong branches and roots – like a celestial tree of life. But on those branches, it wasn’t leaves and fruit that sprouted but shops and dragon cotes, mansions and hovels, taverns and artificers. I could already smell the street food cooking. Scavenger birds flew up in puffs of black from the open areas and long cables dangled down from the city bearing baskets big enough to hold Saboraak, filled with goods from the surrounding countryside.

I shivered when I looked down at the roads converging at the base of the city and the inns and taverns there. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with the long lines of people and pack animals traveling to them. It was just the memory I had of when my sky city fell – the memory of all those people who died, both in the city above and those who had been under it before it toppled.

I forced the thought from my mind before I could be wrenched back into the terror and anxiety of it. Better to focus on what I was doing now. I’d felt oddly untethered since returning to the Dominion. It was almost as if finally being free of constant threat and violence made me feel lost.

You need to remember that you have an important mission and purpose. You can’t fall back into bad habits. Just because this place feels familiar, doesn’t make it friendly.

But it felt friendly. The Black dragons and their riders met our Greens with hails of welcome and smiles. They didn’t even question the tale the others told about Saboraak and me, banking to join the Greens in escorting us to the dragon cotes.

Nostar flew in close to speak to me.

“Since your message is for the Captain of the Castelan’s guard, we’ll take you straight to the cotes in the Castel.” His smile was broad. “You won’t believe how beautiful they are!”

A fist of worry grabbed my belly and twisted. We were going right into the heart of this beautiful, welcoming city. So why did I feel like I was going to be ill?

Chapter Twelve

I DIDN’T BOTHER TO wake Zyla. She’d fallen asleep with her cheek pressed against my shoulder, her arms draped around me. It was a comfortable feeling, like wearing a thick cloak, and my clothes still hadn’t dried properly. I could use the extra warmth. I’d never had a girl fall asleep against me before. She smelled nice. Nicer than the company I usually kept.

I smell just fine, thank you. Of sulfur and other glorious chemicals.

The setting sun left a bright orange gild on the edges of the buildings as we descended from above the sleek white walls of the Castel at the apex of the sky city.  From its central tower, a man could twirl around and see every inch of the city below and the hills and sea surrounding it- if his eyes were as good as a dragon’s.

We need to see well. Our prey scurries below.

She sounded nervous.

You aren’t the only one who is having second thoughts.

The Greens led the way, our Black dragon escort peeling off as we arrived at the honey-combed cliff of dragon cotes at the base of the Castel. It was man-made and white, but if it had been golden and filled with shimmering liquid it would have looked just like the real thing. Dragons filled almost every cell and their hoots and spouts of fire filled the air.

I’d never been around a Dominion dragon cote before. My blood felt hot and my heart raced with excitement. What energy! What power!

They sure were pulling out all the stops to welcome us! At the flashes of their fire, the Greens reacted by dancing against the reins, their own bursts of excitement searing through the air in sulfurous streams. The Dragon Riders fought the reins, resorting to their magic sticks to threaten their mounts.

It was amazing that Dragon Riders got anything done with all this fuss! They should all ride female dragons. Saboraak never stirred up such drama!

I have a confession.

Have you been holding out on me? Have you wanted to dance around and breathe fire into the air for no reason?

No!

Then what?

Remember how the Greens reacted to me because I’m female?

Oh.

Yeah. I don’t think the dragons usually do that.

Is everyone going to know? It might blow our cover!

Really?

Sarcasm? From Saboraak! Who would have thought it?

“What’s going on?” Zyla asked, waking now that the hooting had grown intolerable.

I don’t see any Purples, Saboraak said.

Who cared what color they were?

We Nostar’s pointing finger toward an empty cell. I watched to see where his dragon was headed. Tachril landed in a cell already housing a big Gold dragon. There were two other figures standing there in the shadows. Was that –?

It couldn’t be.  I shook my head.

Only Purples can speak to humans – remember? And females. So, if there are no Purples here, then none of them can tell my secret to the humans.

If they didn’t guess what was happening from this ridiculous display.

You think this is ridiculous? You should see yourself around Zyla!

Boy! She was a cranky cat this evening!

I squinted my eyes. I was certain I was seeing things. I could have sworn that I saw Eventen beside that Gold dragon. But the sun was getting low in the sky and the shadows were deepening.

They vanished from view as Saboraak ducked into her cote. The honeycomb cell was fitted with food, water, and dragon bedding which mainly consisted of fresh smelling hay. I helped Zyla off with shaking legs.

“Was that all because she’s a girl?” Zyla whispered in my ear.

“It’s amazing what kind of trouble your lot causes,” I agreed.

“You don’t seem to mind it too much.” She raised a coy eyebrow, a smug look on her face.

I should have left that alone, but the thing with Eventen and then Nostar – well, would anyone blame a man for feeling jealous? And she liked to tease me. Was it really so bad to tease her back?

I grabbed her waist – gently, but suddenly enough that she gasped – and spun her around so her back was resting against Saboraak and then I leaned in close to her so that our noses were almost touching.

“I think that they just want to do this.”

And then I kissed her.

She kissed me back, so she must not have minded although she was shaking her head when I pulled back, as if she’d caught me up to mischief.

“Remember your cover,” she said severely. “We need to get to Captain Arendis, not spend our time kissing in the shadows.”

Also, they don’t want to kiss me. That’s not something that dragons do.

“Admit it,” I said to Zyla. “You like it when I surprise you.”

“I like it when you behave yourself.” But she looked pleased. “Come on, Tor.”

I hoped Saboraak would be safe here while we were gone.

I will be fine. I could use a break after a day of flying. Just don’t do anything reckless without me.

Don’t worry. I will save all my recklessness for you. I need someone to catch me when I fall.

I felt so light, so free now that I was standing back in a Dominion sky city, that a grin broke out on my face and my travel-weary muscles felt eased and happy.

We left the cote into the hall beyond and I had a bounce to my step. What would Woelran be like? Would it have the same kind of taverns that Vanika had? The same kind of shops?

The thought vanished when I turned the next corner.

Chapter Thirteen

THEY WERE LAUGHING. That was my first thought. Laughing together. Laughter meant friends.

My mimic took that moment to appear. He strutted around the pair of them, inspecting them from every angle while I stood frozen the gasp stuck in my throat.

I had hoped to never see Katlana again – and that if I did, that I would see her with my dragon close by and a good weapon in my hand. I had never expected to see her in Woelran – especially not at the same time that I was here! Or to see her laughing with Eventen.

She patted him on the shoulder and her hand lingered a moment. They were at the other end of the corridor. They hadn’t noticed us yet.

“You could throw that dagger of yours and kill one of them,” my mimic suggested.

A fool thought from a fool. And yet, I wanted to obey.

That was the problem with the mimic. I always wanted to do what he wanted. But what may have seemed like a good idea a few weeks ago felt like a terrible one now. You couldn’t just attack people because you knew they were evil. My scar flared with the cold of truth at that thought.

If you did that, then no one would ever get the chance to change their minds and learn a different way. It was possible, wasn’t it, that Katlana had decided not to lead Shabren’s golems. Maybe she had even been a spy of his all along. Too bad my scar didn’t indicate whether that was true. It would have saved me some trouble.

“Then why did she let Shabren torture you?” the mimic asked.

Maybe she couldn’t stop it, just like Zyla couldn’t stop the draining of the souls of Dragon Riders while she had been spying.

Zyla’s hand gripped my arm urgently, steering me into an empty doorway. Her finger was over her lips. “Shhh.”

“I think your boyfriend is two-timing,” I said casually. How could Eventen have beaten us here?

The Greens waylaid us, and they were more interested in fun than efficiency on the flight to Woelran. We did not take the most direct route.

And Katlana? What about her? Golems didn’t fly as fast as dragons.

But you were being tended by Eventen overnight and you were caught in the dust storm. If she took a different route, who is to say what might be possible? It’s not the first time we’ve seen people cross unfathomable distances in a very short time.

Good points.

“We need a different route up to the Castel guardrooms. Let’s try this way,” Zyla said, leading the way through the door and up a set of stairs. I followed her, glad she was taking the lead so that I could think.

“How do you know where to go?”

“All Castels are laid out in basically the same way. The lower tiers are for stables and cotes and storerooms. The more important the people doing a thing are, the higher the level that houses them.”

“You aren’t worried about Eventen and Katlana,” I whispered.

If the Dominion was this full of spies, then we were in a lot of trouble. We needed our sky cities and dragon cotes to be loyal and strong. Especially with Ko’Torenth posed to take over.

“Of course I’m worried about them,” she hissed as we threaded our way through stairways and hallways. “But we don’t know how they got here so quickly or what they might be up to and we won’t until we see Captain Arendis. So, let’s hurry and get our answers.”

We left the dragon levels, then the storerooms and stables and kitchens level.

“The guardhouse should be somewhere here,” Zyla said as we climbed the next set of steps. “Any higher and we begin to tread into Castelan territory.”

She burst through a door and we found ourselves in a walled courtyard with an open sky, trellises of vines and a babbling waterfall were surrounded by benches and flowering plants.

“Pretty spot,” I muttered, but I was distracted when my mimic kicked a standing stained-glass window.

His shadow foot went right through, just like the light that left red gleams as it passed through the crimson stained glass. It was a delicately wrought symbol of a spiral with a line through it. I hadn’t seen that before, and yet it pulled up a memory. Hadn’t I just read about that today?

Spiral that binds in crimson revealed. Spiral that chokes in light displayed. Take warning all who heed the Light. Take courage to fight.

Weird. But then, all the prophecies were weird. I still felt like I should be nervous about that sign.

“Hurry, Tor. I don’t want to be found out of place,” Zyla said.

It was strangely quiet in this Castel. Shouldn’t we have bumped into someone by now? A guard or a servant at the very least? The city outside had been bustling. Why was the Castel so quiet?

There’s something wrong with this place, Saboraak said.

Did she know what?

It’s just a feeling. A feeling of something rotten. And now the dragons are too quiet. All of them except the Greens smell wrong.

I felt it, too, though I couldn’t place it. Or maybe it was just me. Maybe there was something wrong with me after all the pain and difficulty I’d seen. Maybe I couldn’t handle pretty glass pictures or laughter or smiling Green Dragon Riders. Maybe, I’d gone mad from the pressure.

I scratched at my headband. Dusk was settling on the Castel. We needed to be done our business before the moon rose. I could hide the golden crown in the day and Zyla and I could hide our arm markings at night, but my face signs would show in the moonlight.

“Here we are,” Zyla said as we entered a huge room with long wooden tables. Benches lined the sides of the tables and a gaping fireplace on one wall was filled with ashes from a dead fire. Weapons and armor hung on the walls in decorative display and on racks for easy access. It did look like a guardhouse.

“But where are the guards?” I asked aloud.

Zyla’s forehead wrinkled with concern and her voice was just a little too high when she said, “I read this story in one of my father’s old books.”

We walked toward a door on the other side of the room as she told the story.

“It was a ghost story and I swear, this makes me think of it.”

“Go on,” I said. It was getting dark in here now. There were windows, but no lit torches or lanterns and the last rays of the sun ran red.

“Well, it was about a small village and a traveler visited it. In the daytime, the village was bustling and busy, but at night, it was a ghost town.”

“It was full of ghosts?” I asked, trying not to look too nervously at the shadows.

“No. There was just no one at all. The people were not real, just a magic illusion thrown over the town to lull people into a sense of security so that at night the real inhabitants could come out.”

“And offer a dinner of beer and sausages and a warm welcome?” I asked hopefully.

“Oh. They came for dinner, alright,” she said, her voice so spooky that I shivered.

“I think I’ve heard enough of that ghost story,” I said, and I flung open the door.

Chapter Fourteen

IF THE MAN SITTING behind the desk was Captain Arendis, then he was not going to hear our message. Not now, or ever.

I froze in the doorway as the heavy wooden door thumped against the wall. The man in the chair – if that was what that was – was manacled to the desk, his skin shriveled around his bones and his uniform hanging loosely over his skeletal shoulders.

“We’re late,” I said, barely suppressing a nervous giggle. “He died of boredom waiting for us.”

Zyla’s lips pressed firmly together before she jabbed me in the ribs. “Would you be serious for once, Tor?”

“Who’s joking?” I said, worry twisting my lips. “This guy is dead serious, and I have a feeling that I might be, too.”

I wasn’t worried about the moon rising and my tattoos showing anymore. I wasn’t worried about how to sneak through the sky city without being seen. I was worried that there might not be anyone left who saw us at all.

“Do you think they took his soul for a magical item?” Zyla asked, pointing to a long thin tube running out from under the skeleton’s sleeve and to the floor.

The desk was bare. The shelves on the wall held nothing but books. There were no suspicious looking items or glowing weapons, or ancient tomes. It was as boring of a room in a haunted castle as anyone could imagine.

Was Saboraak hearing this?

I’m worried, Tor. The moon is rising, and the dragons have quieted down completely.

How quiet?

I’m only hearing the Greens we flew here with: Tachril, Hyoogan, Nazscal, Elumans, Nelmper, Izhoedi. And they are all I can smell, too.

“Should we look for the Castelan, do you think?” I asked Zyla. I didn’t want to admit that I had no idea what to do next.

She was pale as a sheet, the white of the rising moon flooding through the window, bringing her ko to life, and throwing long dark shadows across the room. One bled out behind the skeleton in the chair, staining the wall behind it deathly-black.

“Zyla?” I asked.

“All those people in the city,” she breathed. “Hurrying, bustling, working.”

Ice rolled down my own spine. I’d felt so excited to arrive here. Every bit of me had been anticipating some part of this city from the smells to the tastes to the sounds.

“They can’t all be ghosts,” I gestured at the man in the chair. “Maybe this isn’t what we think it is.”

Zyla stepped toward me and then abruptly flung her arms around me. I hugged her close. She’d better not think that I was the one who was scared. I wiped my palm on my breeches, hoping the fear sweat wouldn’t tip her off.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said in a small voice.

“I like how you think,” I agreed, offering her the dry hand while I furtively wiped my other palm. No reason to panic. Bad things happened, right? Didn’t mean they needed to happen to us.

Are you trapped, Saboraak?

No.

Maybe you should get out of the cotes.

And go where?

Somewhere where you can see all around you without walls or anything in the way. Somewhere no one can sneak up on you from behind.

As we walked through the long hall, I stripped weapons from the wall: throwing knives for all my sheaths and a fighting axe.

“You can’t fight ghosts with metal,” my mimic said, popping out of nowhere to examine the edge of a sword.

Of course, he was there. No situation was so bad that it couldn’t be made worse by Shadow Tor.

“Now, now, you know I might be useful,” the mimic said as Zyla pulled a polearm off the wall, holding it tightly in her spare hand. “If it comes to violence, you might need to let me out to play. All your best fighting ideas come from me.”

I clenched my jaw.

“Ready?” I asked Zyla.

She nodded. “Tor?”

“Yeah?”

“I know that I like to tease you and sometimes you just plain rub me the wrong way.”

“Sure, sure,” I said. Did we really need to talk about my personality deficiencies right now?

She bit her lip. “I just want you to know that I actually really like you. You think up the craziest things but you’re never afraid of anything. I just like being around someone who sees an upside to everything, who doesn’t ever let anything get him down for long, who refuses to admit defeat. You know?”

I didn’t know. I’d never really understood what she saw in me. I still didn’t see how any of that was a good thing.

“Okay. Can we get back to Saboraak now?”

She looked disappointed, pulling her hand from mine. I took a deep breath, pushed aside the sense of urgency that told me we should already be running, and took her hand back.

“Hey,” I said, waiting until she looked at me. “I like you, too. You’re smart. Sometimes even smarter than me. And courageous. And you keep me guessing all the time.”

She was smiling now.

“So,” I said. “Let’s try to keep you alive so we can have more of these awkward conversations.”

She laughed and I pulled her hand, jogging down the big room and into the corridor.

“I think we should forget trying to get back to the dragon cotes and just get to a window so Saboraak can get us out,” I called as I ran.

It sounded so simple, but these things were never simple. If I’d learned anything from Ko’Torenth, it was that. But this time I had someone with me more valuable than myself, and I wasn’t going to let a bunch of wispy ghosts snatch her away. Not now that she’d admitted that she liked me.

Chapter Fifteen

RUNNING DOWN THE ECHOING corridors without a torch lit or a servant to be found as the moon rose through the many narrow windows was a spooky feeling. I didn’t know where I was going, and every turn and shadow seemed to hide a hidden ghoul.

I see movement below.

Where was Saboraak?

I’m circling the Castel, waiting for you to appear. Is there a window big enough for you? This is the strangest city I’ve ever seen. Not a lamp lit, or a guard posted. The Black dragons that were circling the city have all vanished.

There were no windows wide enough for Zyla and me to squeeze out. Not yet. Our footsteps echoed through the corridors.

What sort of movement had she seen?

Something is flying ...

I gritted my teeth and kept running.

“Any ideas?” I called to Zyla. “We need to find a balcony or a window.”

“Stop.”

“What?”

“Stop!”

I skidded to a stop and she pulled me to one of the narrow windows.

“We won’t get through there,” I was already saying, but she pressed her face to the opening, looking up and down.

“There are balconies one floor up and a little that direction,” she said, pointing in the direction we’d been running. “Let’s find a staircase.”

“That was good thinking,” I said as we ran on. My hand felt natural against hers, like they were made to fit together. It was telling a completely different tale than my hand with the axe. That one was sweaty and nervous.

“You did say I was smart,” she replied. “Here’s the stairway.”

We trotted up the steps.

It’s a golden dragon! I’m going to call to him!

Don’t! Saboraak? Don’t call to him!

We crested the top of the stairs and ran almost headlong into Katlana. She held her firestick in one hand and her helmet covered the bottom half of her face.

“Are you the one who killed this party? It’s completely dead down there,” I said, skidding to a stop a few paces in front of her. I could see the outline of a balcony through the two wide windows behind her. They were the only ones with balconies along the lengthy hall we stood in. The moon was level with the balcony railing, throwing black shadows from each rail and outlining Katlana in electric white.

“This is beyond you, kid. And don’t think you can smart talk me. I won’t be keeping you as a captive. I saw what you did to Shabren.”

“He was fine when I left,” I said glibly, trying to indicate to Zyla with a head nod that she should skirt around Katlana. She planted her feet firmly and held her polearm at the ready instead. I almost sighed. Tell her up and she’d go down. Tell her left and she’d go right. She had more than a mind of her own, she had stubbornness to rival the mountains.

“You call drooling like a baby fine? We have to strain his food.”

My eyebrows rose and the skin on the backs of my arms tingled. I’d thought things were bad for me after that fight. What had my mimic done to Shabren?

“You saw me do it,” the mimic said from where he was leaning casually against the wide window in front of the balcony. “I told you that destroying his shadow would be a problem for him.”

I hadn’t believed him. Not really.

“I think drooling is better than dead. Shabren got off easy,” I said, circling as I spoke, trying to get toward the window.

Katlana leapt forward, her firestick blazing across our path to the window, but not quite close enough to hit us.

“Don’t even think about it. I know you want to get to that balcony. You’re going to have to go through me.”

Saboraak?

Her answer was instant. I’ll be there to catch you if you need me, but things are ... interesting ... out here. I am currently hiding.

From what?

Remember that gold dragon? The one you saw Eventen beside?

Yeah?

It’s possible that your suspicions about him were correct.

I knew that guy was a creep! Could she at least get to our balcony? I could use the distraction. Maybe then Zyla could get out while I held Katlana’s attention.

“So, you’re saying you’re our only obstacle?” I taunted Katalana. “You couldn’t have made it any easier.”

“I’ll show you how impossible it is.”

“How about a battle of the wits?” I suggested. “No need for a physical fight, right?”

I thought she might be smirking under the helmet. “You’d be at the disadvantage.”

“Then you’ll try it? I have this trick I do with three bowls ...”

“No.” She advanced another step.

I readied my axe. “Or perhaps a foot race. You look like a fast woman. It would be very fair.”

“No.” Another step. We were almost in range of that fire.

“Surely there’s some non-violent way we can settle this.” I turned to Zyla and whispered, “Run.”

She shook her head at me, brandishing her polearm.

“Someone needs to help Saboraak!” I hissed.

She looked torn but she sighed and darted to the side.

“Wrong way,” Katlana said. “There are no other balconies in that direction.” She turned back to me, though she could still see Zyla out of the corner of her eye. “And no, I’m not going to opt for non-violence. There are some in the city who did. They aren’t with us now.”

“Who is ‘us’, exactly,” I asked. “Not Shabren, since he’s back in the world of fluffy toys and bibs. Who ran this operation, Katlana? Was it your brother?”

She flinched.

“No?” I was surprised. “No loyalty to your family?”

“Decisions were made.” She lunged at me and I dodged to the side, barely avoiding the burst of fire that seared the air where I’d been. “In war people die.”

Zyla darted in behind Katlana, using her lunge as a chance to get past her and hurry toward the balcony.

“What war?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark shape descending on the balcony. Was it Saboraak?

Not me.

Zyla must think that was Saboraak! I wanted to call out to her, but if I did, then Katlana would spin around and set her ablaze.

My heart was pounding in my chest and my head ached. I rubbed at the cloth over my forehead.

“Don’t bother scratching. You and those marks will all be gone soon enough. At least House Akona is clever enough to know that those marks are a problem.” She began to quote and I recognized the words, “‘The day of walking legends comes. A Legend returned from the north to fill the breach, to stop the leak of souls and death of power. His sign the brand of smoke on skin.’ We recovered that when we took that book from Hubric. His little book of prophecies. And now here we are in the north of the Dominion and you know what, Tor?”

“What?” I asked. Eventen leapt off the dark shape in the balcony and I gasped.

Katlana risked a look behind her and then smiled. “Looks like my ride is here.”

“At least that ends Prophecy Hour,” I quipped, dodging a second burst of flame and rolling forward, coming up with the axe and arcing it toward Katlana’s legs.

She leapt backward, but she was on the defensive now and I pressed forward, hacking and cutting through the air, trying to snag a leaping leg or hurried arm. My axe cracked against her fire stick and painful reverberations rang up the blade and through my arms into my chest. My jaw slammed shut and I arched back from the pain – a mirror image to Katlana who was also arching back, her hand with the rod in it opening, fingers splayed out in pain.

Axe and firestick fell to the ground. One glance was all I needed to see that both had shattered.

Zyla cried out and I spun toward her in alarm. Her polearm slashed at Eventen. His look of shock sent a stab of smugness through me. See? Not everyone likes your smarmy charm, Eventen.

A fist hit me in the jaw while I was distracted, and I stumbled, hands coming up to guard against the pain as I fell to one knee.

“I can’t let you stop the leak of souls, Legend. Not now,” Katlana said. “I gave my own brother to the Dusk Covenant. I will give you, too. I’ll give everything if that’s what it takes. Do you know why?”

“Because you’re pure evil in a cool leather suit?” I asked, leaping to my feet again. In a second, a knife was in my hand, but I didn’t want to hurt Katlana – definitely didn’t want to kill her.

“Why not?” my mimic asked, appearing behind Katlana. “Kill her!”

There was a dragon scream from the balcony and then the hall was lit orange with flame.

“Don’t hesitate!” The mimic grabbed Katlana from behind, pulling her backward.

She stumbled to the side, nearly crashing into Zyla and Eventen, clawing at her neck as she fell against the wall. How did he do that? He should just slip through the living!

“I told you that killing Shabren’s shadow had a strange effect on me!”

I kicked out, clipping Eventen in the knee just long enough for Zyla to run past him, through the balcony and leap up onto the rail. My heart stuttered in my chest. Zyla!

Saboraak! I yelled mentally. Come quick!

I’m here!

There was another burst of fire, Eventen cursed again, and then he spun around and half-ran, half-limped after Zyla.

A blow from behind hit me across the shoulders. Katlana had recovered. She held the fire stick, but there was something wrong with it. When she pointed it directly at me, no fire came.

This was my chance!

I darted forward, shoving her hard so that she slammed against the wall. She struck out with the rod, but while it cracked painfully against my arm, there was still no magic fire. I grabbed it, ripping it from her hand as she squirmed and flung it away.

Caught her! Saboraak yelled. Hurry!

Katlana yanked her helmet off and whipped it at me with both hands. I ducked under the flying metal ball and then slammed my shoulder into her belly. The sound of air whuffing from her lungs filled my ears. I didn’t dare stop. I kept the pressure up, pushing with all my might. Give this woman an inch and she’d kill you!

“And now you kill her!” my mimic urged. “Come on!”

I could end this now.

I put my knife to her throat. I could feel her breath growing shallow under my shoulder. Her nose was inches from mine, anger and fear warring in her eyes.

She was the enemy. She’d destroyed this city. By her own words, she’d destroyed her brother. The world would be a better place without her.

My heart pounded in my ears, spikes of emotion flooding through me from head to hand and back again. Anger. Fear. Certainty.

“Do it!” the mimic yelled. “Be a man.”

I could do it. I could kill her and that would be one less person trying to kill me.

My hand shook. I’d never killed. Not like this. People had died around me by accident or because I was faster than they were, but I hadn’t directly caused it. And this was a woman. An angry, evil woman, but still a woman.

“Kill!”

I wanted to. I wanted it so badly.

With all the strength of my will, I mentally shoved the mimic away.

I would not kill.

Not today.

Surprisingly, the mimic stayed gone.

I spun Katlana around so quickly that she gasped. Pressing her face to the wall, I yanked the cloth from my forehead and wrapped it tightly around her wrists, binding them with fast, firm knots.

“I hope you aren’t afraid of heights,” I said through clenched teeth.

This was better. Better than killing her. Better than having her blood on my hands.

I was surprised that Eventen hadn’t hit me from behind yet. I’d have a harder time not killing him if it came down to it.

Katlana hissed something that I didn’t hear, but there wasn’t time for that. I lifted her up onto my shoulder.

“Kick and I’ll drop you,” I warned.

And then I was stumbling to the balcony. It was empty. Eventen and his Gold dragon must have flown away. I climbed up on the rail overlooking the city below.

When I gasped, it wasn’t from the height.

Chapter Sixteen

DARK SHADOWS AND WHITE moonlight flooded Woelran City. Not an orange light lit the city. Not the flickering light of a candle. Not the glare of a torch. No reddish flames of an open fire. Not a trail of smoke rose to the sky above.

I shivered.

But below the city, the ground seemed to creep as if the very earth had come alive and was marching.

Skies and Stars!

I barely bit off a cry – whether of terror or horror, I didn’t know.

Katlana kicked at me and I hit her leg with my palm.

“Settle down or I’ll toss you over,” I threatened but I knew the threat was weak. If I couldn’t kill her before, I couldn’t kill her now, either.

A sudden burst of gold lit the air under us, and I leaned over the balcony, almost losing hold of Katlana in my surprise.

Saboraak burst upward, Zyla on her back. Behind her, flames followed, bursting from the throat of the Gold dragon. But they weren’t the only shapes hurtling through the air beneath us.

Nostar rode his Green dragon with an air of excitement, swinging wildly from side to side in his saddle as his dragon ducked and rolled between the shining dark bodies of flying golems.

A formation of four Greens surrounded a second golem, while the fifth ripped the rider from its back and soared away.

Flying golems! Here?

There aren’t many. Just enough to give us trouble with this Gold dragon leading them.

Leading them?

They’re following his lead. If that isn’t leading, then what is?

My arms were shaking as I watched Nostar join the Greens. They wheeled in formation toward Saboraak. She was outnumbered!

They’re on our side! Was I ever surprised when it turned out they were the only living dragons in the cotes! The rest ... the rest are ...

Shadows?

Yes!

Like my mimic, perhaps. But how could that happen to a whole city?

The Magikas took this city months ago. I don’t know when they did this, though. Nostar didn’t know. He just arrived here last week, and he spent most of his time in the woods.

She arched gracefully around and Zyla stood in her stirrups whooping and slashing with her polearm as they came around, streaking over the Gold’s head.

The Greens were right on his tail, herding him away.

Get ready!

I braced myself. She was going to swing in close to the balcony. Her body grew larger and larger in my view and then when her wing almost hit me, I leapt, landing in the saddle behind Zyla awkwardly, nearly dropping Katlana. She cursed loudly and I dropped her from my shoulder to lay over the saddle – just like I had been positioned when Shabren captured me and flew off.

There was a roar from beneath us and a dark swell puffed up from the city. Tachril burst past us, Nostar on his back. Nostar was yelling as hard as he could and signing wildly.

“Flee! Flee now!”

He sped up, the formation of Greens hot on his heels.

“Can you fly that fast with three on your back?” I asked Saboraak aloud.

Long enough to get out of the city!

She sped forward, joining the formation of Greens and I looked behind me. I couldn’t see the Gold dragon. Perhaps the Greens had defeated him.

He’s still out there.

Perhaps he was hiding.

He’s strange. He doesn’t think right.

Like, rabid?

Maybe. I don’t know.

Were we going to be fast enough to escape the flying golems?

How many can there be?

There was a sound in the air that hadn’t registered until just now. A buzzing sound. I looked down. I couldn’t tell which of the dark shapes crawling over the buildings and the ground below were flying golems and which were crawling golems like the wolf golem, but I knew one thing – the city was completely overrun with them. They spilled out on the ground and across the countryside and it was going to take all of Saboraak’s strength and all of our nerve to get away from them.

And I had their queen.

I looked down at Katlana’s back. What was I going to do with her?

I’m proud of you. Saboraak said.

For not knowing what to do?

No, silly. For not just killing her. For fighting down your shadow self and being ... Tor. The guy who makes threats he doesn’t keep because he has a soft, gentle core.

I wasn’t gentle.

The guy who protects the weak, who defends those in need and who’d never kick an enemy when they were down.

Who said I wouldn’t kick them? If Katlana had been Eventen...

For being a hero all over again.

I was no one’s hero.

You’re my hero, Saboraak said.

“Where do we go now?” I asked aloud.

“We can try for Estabis to the southeast,” Zyla said, her curls bobbing in the wind and that polearm stuck out like she was ready to fight every golem from here to Estabis.

“You’re my hero, Zyla,” I said tiredly.

“I told you this place reminded me of ghosts.”

“I already told you that you’re smart. Don’t make me admit it again.”

She laughed as we flew through the night by the light of the moon with a thousand buzzing golems chasing after us.

Read more of Tor and Saboraak’s story in:

Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 9-12

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Behind the Scenes:

USA TODAY BESTSELLING author, Sarah K. L. Wilson loves spinning a yarn and if it paints a magical new world, twists something old into something reborn, or makes your heart pound with excitement ... all the better! Sarah hails from the rocky Canadian Shield in Northern Ontario -

learning patience and tenacity from the long months of icy cold - where she lives with her husband and two small boys. You might find her building fires in her woodstove and wishing she had a dragon handy to light them for her

Sarah would like to thank Harold Trammel and Eugenia Kollia for their incredible work in beta reading and proofreading this book. Without their big hearts and passion for stories, this book would not be the same.

www.sarahklwilson.com