Dacey's Dream

By Lazette Gifford

Prelude

Abby and Tristan moved away from the huge ship, sand whispering beneath their feet. So odd, Abby thought, to realize how his feelings had changed since he came to this reality. He didn't dare even glance back at the strange craft, because right then he would have willingly gone to the stars again. He would have done nearly anything, in fact, just to be with these people a little longer.

And Tristan shared his sorrow and loss that crowded in even before they had left... Always going somewhere else. Leaving the others behind.

He didn't want to leave his friends, and in that moment both of them nearly stopped as their emotions overwhelmed them.

But the need to end this madness propelled them forward as friends bade them farewell. Right then, though, Abby couldn't make sense of the journey anymore. He understood that he paid the price to save a life, but even so...

If we don't go on, what other friends would fall? Tristan wondered. Friends we don't even know yet, true -- but there have been friends everywhere we passed.

These friends that they would soon leave behind said kind words, their faces showing bleakness that Abby hadn't expected. After all, they hadn't brought much joy to this group. There had been danger at every turn.

There always is, Abby. Even without us. But they had a chance to know that they truly fought on the side of good, and that counts in a lifetime of other uncertainties.

He agreed, silently and wordlessly with a sweep of bittersweet emotions. He was too tired to think more clearly just now, and afraid if he tried he would be bitter at their departure. They had to go on. He didn't want to go angrily, or part with their friends in such a mood.

"Rquana? Would you ward, please?" Tristan asked as he pulled a piece of the Kiya from the pouch. "Sometimes it is dangerous when we leave."

"I would be honored," Rquana replied, and both he and Etric came to help.

The two wove a ward around Abby and Tristan, magic enveloping them in light and warmth. Abby bowed his head a moment, not daring to look at the friends they would never see again. He urged Tristan to open the portal, to let them go quickly. Lingering would not help.

Tristan, magic surging through him, reached for somewhere else. Abby looked up to see -- a city, a wide expanse of water... a castle. It seemed more like home than many other places they had been. He hoped that would help...

"Magic. Gods, Captain..." Banning whispered, a voice just beyond the ward. "Magic to go... anywhere."

Abby looked back at the others one final time. His hand tightened on Tristan's arm, and he bowed his head.

"May we meet again in some far port," Crystal said, kind words in parting, a whisper of longing, as though Crystal could hope for such a thing...

And then they were going elsewhere again. Abby watched behind for Gix, and saw the others grow farther away... disappear. Gone forever, except in his heart.

Part One: The Apprentice

Chapter One

The scarlet sun dipped closer to the sea, leaving gray shadows along the city's paths where people rushed toward their homes and safety. Dacey pulled his tattered cloak closer around his shoulders, and watched the fading light with despair, just as he had watched every other vanishing day for far too long. Glancing to make certain no one could see him, he slid down the dried mud of the stream's bank -- careful not to leave noticeable prints -- and into the dim recess of the footbridge. There he stopped, unseen within shadows both dark and damp. The torpid stream, well below bank level in late autumn, moved sluggishly before him. Not far away the water tumbled over the cliff side and down to the sea.

That waterfall, and the broken rocks of the shore below promised an easy, and quick death. Dacey didn't think even the mage's spell that kept him in the city would hold back. He could, after all, go down to the shore by the more usual trails. That chance of an unbroken fall promised him hope of an escape, though a dark one. He could kill himself before the soldiers took him, if they found him here.

People passed quickly over the wooden bridge, boots and sandals alternating in the sounds of rushing movement. Someone laughed, obviously happy to be going home where he would pull his shutters tight, and believe himself safe from the evil that walked the streets when the double moons crossed the starry sky.

Fools, to think that thin wood and metal trinkets would keep out all the evils, especially at a time when the dead showed up almost nightly, despite their precautions.

Dacey looked away from the setting sun and back to where red light danced across white stone walls of city buildings and beyond to the mountains that formed a cup around the capital. The Horns of the Demon -- twin peaks of that mountain range -- stood tall and bright in a carmine blush. Legend said that fifty mages once entombed a monster there, and saved Green Isle from destruction.

Dacey wondered if anyone even thought about that legend three centuries ago, when the inhabitants of Green Isle outlawed magic.

Gregor had been the last of the great mages who had existed in secret until now. The last -- and the fools had killed him just a few weeks ago. The King's Guard, the only force allowed in the capital city, still spent each night hunting for Gregor's apprentice, even with worse problems stalking the cobblestone streets.

They thought the apprentice -- Dacey, who hid in the shadows, powerless to protect himself -- had created the dark, foul creature that murdered and fed on the bodies of the citizens. He had not. He'd never had the ability to use magic, though he had the knowledge.

Dacey had few options left. He would not be able to outrun the guards for much longer. He grew weaker, tired... and even his will to live seemed to ebb with each setting sun. He'd been lucky to survive Gregor's death, having just been sent on an errand. Well, as lucky as he had ever been in life since he came to be in the mage's care.

Perhaps Gregor thought his apprentice had been too young to remember life before he served the mage. But Dacey often dreamed of life filled with light and the laughter of his older brothers, even now, twenty-two years after his parents sold their youngest child to a mage. He would never understand why they gave him over to the forbidden arts that would get him killed if caught by the honest people in the city of Dodano.

The sun cast a final light, blood red and dying, across the city. People, finding themselves still on the streets, scurried to their hearths and homes.

Dacey had no home. The best he had found was a hole under the bridge's woodwork -- a tiny place of relative safety, so small and cramped that (so far) no one had looked there for him. Now, as two soldiers started down the bank toward the stream, Dacey caught hold of the undersides of the bridge and pulled himself up into the crevice above, toes and fingers gripping the damp, splintered wood. Practice should have made this easier, he thought, but he knew the growing weakness of his body would betray him soon.

"Did you hear what they found last night, Captain?" one guard asked, stopping at the edge of the stream, hardly more than a yard away. The man's helmet glinted in the very last sunlight, and Dacey winced at the feel of metal so close.

"I heard," the Captain said, the words grunted with anger. He gave a quick, cursory look up and down the stream before starting back up the embankment again.

"Another dead woman. A baker this time, and dead just like the others. Heart torn out, her body mangled." The guard made a sound of disgust, and Dacey agreed with the feeling.

"I know," the Captain said, and kept walking. Away, Dacey wished them. Move away.

"Damn that apprentice to hell! Someone's going to catch him soon!"

Dacey agreed with that as well.

The soldiers climbed back up the embankment. Dacey remained in his uncomfortable perch while they lingered by the bridge, until he heard the sound of their heavy boots crossing back over the bridge, and drifting into the now black night.

The city of Dodano slowly fell silent except for the occasional cry of a startled bird. Dacey finally let go and dropped into the muck at the edge of the little stream. He winced as much at feel of cold mud oozing through his sandals as at the quick pain of a twisted ankle. Breathless and cold, it took him a moment before he could stand.

The guard had been right; they would catch him soon if he didn't find a way out of his private curse. He wished he could go across the Horns of the Demon, and try to live in the wild forest -- but old Gregor had made that dream impossible with two simple spells. The first spell trapped him within the walls of the city, and the second left him mute. Gregor had feared his apprentice from the start -- had feared that the boy would become greater than him.

He'd been quite insane, of course. And he had left Dacey to the mercy of humanity. Dacey had copied every one of Gregor's spells, and had learned every word and every gesture... but he could use none of those spells until he somehow found a way to break the magic that took his voice away. Even with Gregor dead, the magic still clung to the one person who had never wanted it.

No other mages lived in Dodano. No one else knew magic at all. Gregor had been the last true mage -- or so Dacey had believed until ten days ago, when this new creature began to roam the streets at night, moving with the taint of strong magic wherever it went.

It brought magic back -- dark magic, to be sure, but even so it offered the only hope Dacey could see in this bleak world.

He wanted to find the creature, though not to clear himself of the accusation that he had created this evil; he was a mage's apprentice, and anyone on Dodano would kill him without remorse for that crime alone. He hunted it because it might have the ability to release Dacey from his double hell; hunted by man for being a mage, and powerless for the very reason they cursed him.

As he crawled up to the edge of the embankment, Dacey saw the city clothed in dark, the citizens safe (or so they thought) within their walls. Now the streets stayed empty save for the night guards who searched the streets for Dacey, while Dacey hunted the shadows for... something else.

Even after a dozen days of following it, Dacey still couldn't be certain exactly what he sought. Gregor had never once mentioned anything as foul as this. Dacey had read material on older magics that dealt in blood, but even those hadn't needed such wholesale sacrifice as a dozen dead in as many days. To draw the attention of the magic-hating populace in so blatant a way was -- well, insane. Dacey suspected that some fool had dabbled in the forbidden, and without the proper instruction, had touched The Dark and not been warded against it. The Dark could warp an unsuspecting soul.

Fools everywhere.

Dacey knew the danger of hunting something warped by dark magic, and he thought he might even willingly give his heart for a chance to speak again. His only other choices were to run and hide until the guards finally caught him, or else save them all some very long nights and kill himself. For the moment, at least, he would still rather face an uncertain confrontation with the unknown rather than the certain death those two choices gave him.

Dacey's only power enhancement sources came from the magic of two enchanted items. They could prove very dangerous since they radiated magic, and even people who never dealt in the art could often feel the power if they came too close. He shunned everyone for that reason, even though he didn't think anyone would have known him if he passed them on the streets. The few people who had dealt furtively with Gregor had never been to the hovel where they lived, and Gregor never let him meet the people.

He had rescued these two items the night the King's Guard took Gregor away. They'd gone unnoticed in the larger bulk of magic the men destroyed before they burnt the hovel to the ground.

The stone did nothing more than sense magic, but that proved invaluable on these long nights during his hunt. Hanging from his neck on a silken band, the blue stone sometimes glowed in the dark of night, shining so brightly it almost burnt. At those times he would hear something not far away. He never saw this creature, nor caught it in the act of killing and feeding, no matter how long he pursed it. The creature moved very quickly and erratically, and always disappeared before the sunrise.

The second item was a potion that would give him strength and speed, and might save his life if he needed to get away from the guards. Although far more dangerous than the stone in many ways, it hardly mattered. Nothing he did was without danger.

As Dacey walked the night-darkened streets, he carefully watched the shadows. The locals feared the night from instinct alone, but even before Dacey had gone to Gregor, he had heard the People of the Night as they ran the world calling their doom to men.

("Shh," a warm voice had whispered. "Sleep little one. It's only the wind.")

Men had many things to fear on their little fortress island. Dacey could not fathom why they condemned magic, the only power that could help them in the battle against The Dark. Gregor had tried to explain to him once. They had condemned magic out of a mixture of past history, fear of enslavement, and jealousy of what very few had the ability to master. Magic had never been for everyone.

And this creature seemed a good example of that truth. Whatever turned it lose obviously had some capacity, but no power to control --

He felt a sudden pulse from the stone, the now familiar warning as the creature neared. He continued a few more steps, but the tingle subsided. He turned around retracing his path, following the warmth as it led him farther into the alleys and darkness.

Shadows chasing shadows: and the real world chasing them both. The world sometimes came too close; this time Dacey found refuge in a dark hole beneath some stairs while the squad of soldiers moved past, muttering and cursing the dark and the apprentice. Dacey shivered at the metal in their helmets, shields and swords, a brush of agony so close that his heart pounded and his mouth went dry.

Dacey had lost the creature's path while he hid. He wandered back and forth along the quiet alleys, trying to locate it again, but finally stopped when he looked up and found the moons nearly directly overhead.

Dacey fled to what cover he could find while the King's Guard rushed to their own shelters. Perhaps the fiend dared the moons, but then it was likely more akin to the People of the Night than to men anyway.

Dacey scurried to his hiding place, the abandoned shell of a burnt out building that had not yet been demolished. He slipped carefully within the ruined walls, keeping to the places where he would leave no tracks, and took cover beneath a piece of fallen roof. He sat very still, and as ever, silent.

(Go to sleep little one," the woman had whispered. "All is safe, all is safe. The doors are locked, the Dark is outside. Sleep, Dacey.")

Now he slept only from exhaustion, and never in the night.

The moons stood nearly overhead when the talisman began to glow... and then to burn. Dacey's fingers shook as he pulled the stone and its silken cradle from around his neck. The blue glow lighted everything around him, and he hurriedly covered it with the tattered cloak he used for a blanket, even while the magic burnt at his fingers.

He peered out through the broken rafters and could see something coming down the narrow street toward his hiding place.

Run!

No.

Dacey carefully dragged the cloak up until hardly more than his eyes showed through the tattered folds of dirty cloth. He wouldn't confront this creature with the moons high when anything that dabbled in magic would be strongest. However, he would dare to follow, even now. Desperation would drive him out into the light of the midnight moons because he was running out of time.

Dacey saw something coming; the glimmer of lights, a surge of shadows, and knew in the next moment that this was not the creature he had stalked. He held his breath, afraid to move at all as The People of the Night danced closer to him with a swirl of color, shapes and sounds.

Beautiful.

Dacey had read the history of the wars -- the human histories, tainted with their views. Fearing their magic, several powerful human mages had banded together and cursed the People to leave the lands ruled by men. But men had been everywhere, and the People hastily made their new city under the sea. And they found a weakness in the curse, because when the moons rose at their highest peak, and throughout the rest of the night, magic ruled the world whether men liked it or not.

The mages had fallen under a curse as well, and in the end, the humans turned against them as well when the mages tried to rule the world. Dacey, even without knowing much else, had often wondered if the People of the Night hadn't been cursed and exiled because they had presented a threat to the mages who wanted to rule.

The tales Dacey had heard as a child, and later read in Gregor's books, had never spoken of the beauty and song, but only of evil and madness that came upon the men who saw them.

But perhaps that was only guilt, Dacey thought, as he watched, enthralled and even a little enchanted. Perhaps those who shivered at the sound of distant music really feared retribution for the evil of their ancestors.

Light glittered around them, sparkling like tiny golden stars caught in the wind. Everything seemed to glow, all bright, clear and rainbow beautiful. Cloth stirred like clouds; a flow of cloaks, tunics, dresses, capes. How could anyone think such beautiful People of magic to be monsters?

Ah, of magic. Of course. Men feared magic, and wouldn't see beyond that insubstantial veil to the people within. But Dacey watched them, feeling a lightening in his soul that he hadn't expected.

Just being cursed and despised by man did not make something evil.

Even after the procession of twenty or more had passed, Dacey still held his breath and listened to the lilting music that seemed to combine a dozen words and sounds until he really only understood the depth of emotion behind the melody.

Sad... sad...

Longing for a place in the sun

His heart pounded and his eyes teared at the power of that emotion. The figures blurred and disappeared as they continued toward the distant shore and their home beneath the rolling water.

Many said that the People of the Night brought about the demise lost ships. Men, of course, did not willingly swim in the sea.

Dacey sat in the ashes of a ruined house, feeling their loss and longing mingling with his own wounds. Gods, he hated this world, and all the dark and clammy holes he hid in. He wanted to be human again. He wanted to walk in the light of day.

Dacey stared into the dark long after the last of the magical light disappeared, only slowly realizing that there had been nothing in the People of the Night to make him think they might be involved in the rash of murders plaguing the city. Even the townspeople had, surprisingly, made no mention of the possibility -- but then the People of the Night had come and gone in the moonlight for centuries now, and had never brought trouble like this madness.

No, something else moved through the streets of the city. Something...

Something near. The stone pulsed painfully bright again, and with a start Dacey saw a shadow move no more than ten yards away. It came straight at him, moving with an awkward, lopsided gait; not so much like a man, but rather like a creature that would have done better on four legs instead of two.

Gods, a wyrdbane -- a creature caught between human and magical animal. He hadn't thought it possible that such a thing could be created without another mage, and he knew that there wasn't another in all of Dodano, and perhaps not even anywhere else in the world.

Kept coming at him...

The creature leapt over the half burnt wall before Dacey could no longer doubt it had hunted and found him. Could he hold it at bay long enough to reason with it, even without words?

Dacey leapt out of the recess and at the creature, startling it back a step while it yelped in surprise. And in that moment Dacey saw this thing in the full moonlight. Half man -- the shape of the face, and the eyes, he thought -- but the hands had turned to claws and mottled fur covered his face, his arms. The mouth opened in a snarl to show a flash of sharp fangs as it growled and sprang back at him.

Dacey darted through the ruins, putting debris between him and the monster. He had never learned to fight, and he wore neither armor nor weapon -- as though any mage could bear metal. He could say no spell of protection or attack. He had no hope of survival at all except for his wits.

And why survive, he wondered as he slithered back away. He had hoped to find a man doing the killings -- an evil man, yes, but one still hungry for more magic that Dacey could have at least held out as a temptation. However, this thing had tasted too deeply of the wrong wine, and it would never be reasoned with again. It would not understand an offering of magic. It wanted only blood.

Dacey stopped, panting for breath, uncertain where to turn. It came around the charred wall, and in the moonlight he could see the claws brown with the blood of others it had killed. It reached for his heart now.

Dacey threw his cloak into its face and ran again.

The creature snarled, ripping the cloak with those long claws. Then, with a growl of animal anger, it came after him... the lopsided gait too quickly giving way to the quicker pad of four paws against the stone pavement.

Dacey had nowhere to run that would offer safety on a moonlit night, and especially not to someone they already considered as foul as the creature that followed him.

No choices left...

With a feeling inevitable acceptance, Dacey ran toward the guards' post by the palace gate. At least if he died, he would do it with his soul untarnished, and save some other innocent from the inhuman claws of this foul creature. This thing that snapped at his feet had been his last hope... and now he could only lead the creature to its own demise and die saving the city that despised him.

Chapter Two

Dacey chose his path carefully, dashing through the shadows, startling the small rats and mice that hadn't sense enough to take cover on such a night. The moons would be going down by the time he reached the palace, and afterwards the guards would come out... he had only to keep running that far.

King Tascon's palace stood on the cliff side overlooking the ocean, a brooding long dark building encased in a stone bulwark and iron gate, but the guards' post stood just within the gate, and Dacey had no doubt they'd see him and the wyrdbane. If he reached the cliff before the guards came out, Dacey might have his chance, still, to die quickly -- providing he survived the creature still following him through the night.

He had no more hope of living beyond this night. The Wyrdbane had ended that last faint whisper of hope. How much longer did he want to live in the muck and ashes? How long did he want to survive like this, barely better than an animal himself? If he led this creature to the guards, he could guarantee that everything would be over quickly. He would not let them take him alive, at least. He would have that much control over his last moments.

Dacey skidded around a corner and nearly fell as his legs started to give way. Too little food, too weak -- his fingers fumbled for the vial within his tunic and brushed against the warm stone -- a lot of good that did him when he had needed it most! He grabbed the small glass vial instead and pulled it quickly out, his arm shaking.

The creature wasn't far behind. He hadn't time to contemplate the insanity of what he was about to do. Little matter on a night like this anyway, when everything had gone mad beyond fixing. He held the vial up, carefully pulling away the stopper. At most, in the days when the people still trusted magic, a warrior might take a single drop on his tongue to help him through the battlefield without fatigue. More could be dangerous.

Dacey threw away the lid, and downed the contents in one gulp. Hardly more than a half dozen drops, but they burnt through him far faster than a single drop would have -- and he needed the surge of energy quickly now. He could hear the creature closing in again, and looked back to see a shadow at the end of the alley, and a flash of inhuman red eyes.

His heart immediately began to pound with an unsettling uneven beat. But at the same time, Dacey's lungs drew in a deep, single breath, and he began to run once more. Energy pulsed through his limbs, but it took power from the body. The harder he ran, the sooner he would face collapse.

He had no choice, though. He couldn't lead the creature straight to the shore, since they would arrive too soon, and would only add him to the list of victims, and leave the wyrdbane free to strike again.

Run... pause, until it came closer again, a snarl and snap of the jaws. He let it get the scent of him, and nearly catch him this time. He had to keep the creature's interest a little while longer. He had to toy with it, dangerous as that could be. He learned that speed would not always save him if he grew incautious or too daring. The creature slashed through his shirt and caught his arm, leaving a long, bleeding gash behind. Blood pulsed through the wound, in time with his uneven heartbeat.

Ah, but it had his blood scent now, and the creature howled as it followed this time. Dacey would never lose it now, even if he ran with the wind.

Dacey pushed harder, letting the inner fire burn brighter, deciding he would rather die by this magic rather than the claw of the beast still coming, four-footed and quick, behind him. For that matter, better to die by this magic than the metal the soldiers would use if they took him alive. Magic or a leap over the cliff to die on the rocks -- those were his choices now, if he wanted to avoid an even worse death.

He wanted to feel something at those thoughts, but all he could manage was a sense of irony at the realization that he would perish from magic, the one thing everyone expected to save him.

With the power he now held in his body, he could outrace the moons, and that would not help tonight. The guards would still be safe within their walls, and not likely to come out before those moons set -- especially not at the sound of battle involving something unnatural just before the palace gates. He would need to lead his enemy farther a field, and then back again at just the right time. They had a long run ahead of them.

Run.

Dacey raced through the streets until not even magic could stop the labored and pounding pain of each breath. He had covered so many streets, all a blur of tall stone buildings and dark, shuttered windows. He had run to the edge of the city and the magical boundary he could not cross, and looked back again to see the moons hanging low toward the sea.

He finally turned back toward the guard post and picked up a little speed. Even with the magic, he knew he couldn't continue much longer. His head pounded, and he could only hear the sound of his pounding heart. Even his sight began to fail, the dark edging in around him like a tunnel through which he must race, with only the sight of the moons ahead to lead him to the right place.

Still a long ways from the shore, he saw the surge of blue light from the stone. He hadn't realized the wyrdbane had drawn so close to him again, and he tried to push a little faster --

Run!

Light -- thousands of stars, song, beauty, surprise, fear -- he had run headlong into the People of the Night before he realized what his jumbled senses perceived.

"Man! Man!" Voices cried out with the same hysteria he had heard in the cry of mage on the day they had taken Gregor.

Then the wyrdbane came bounding amidst the People of the Night and leapt at his throat. They both went down, Dacey staring at eyes of bright red in a face completely inhuman now. The teeth snapped, tearing at his cheek, and he frantically shoved it off with his hands, magical strength helping him yet again.

But it leapt back in. No chance to escape now -- not until he heard a whisper of words, and felt the familiar warmth of magic spin around him and the creature. The wyrdbane howled and backed away with a deep low growl, slinking down on four legs, glaring with animal cunning and unthinking hatred. Dacey slowly rose back to his knees, his body trembling with the after affects of natural adrenaline and magic potion. Each breath came with difficulty, and the world blurred with every heartbeat. He forcibly lifted his head to see the semicircle standing around him as they faced the unnatural creature.

Dacey's heart beat more wildly for a breathless moment as he looked fully at the People of the Night. Beautiful faces, lovely eyes, perfection in every glance toward him -- and to look at their faces was to know that man did not rule supreme in the world. Man was just another animal before these beings.

"You must be strong not to run when you see us," a woman said. She stepped closer. He could not breathe for her beauty, for her alienness. "Man has not looked in so long they have forgotten what we really are."

She stood over him like a goddess, her body tall and thin, eyes of pale blue, and hair the color of shore sand on a sunny day, cascading down her back. He forced himself continue looking. Far better her than the creature that would kill him. They were not human, and in that moment when all the humans in Dodano had turned against him, being something else did not seem such a bad thing.

He met the woman's look of surprise with less fear and more resolve. The thing still growled, clawed feet moving against stone, preparing to for the final attack. It didn't matter. His heart beat too hard for too many reasons, and he knew that he would die here on his knees before this goddess who moved with the captured moonlight like a halo around her. He could neither fight, nor could he run any more. But oddly, it didn't matter. These People, at least, would not condemn him just for magic.

She came closer and knelt before Dacey, wonder replacing her own surprise and mistrust.

"We cannot stay!" A voice whispered urgently behind her. "We cannot help the ... man. Come away! The moons move too quickly!

"A moment," she answered, sounding less worried than her companion. "Man, why are you here tonight, with this dark creature pursuing you? No man walks the streets in the little time when the world is still ours."

Never looking away from the intensity of her stare, he tried to indicate the creature with a sweep of his arm, but it would not obey him. He nearly fell and caught himself.

"Speak your answer, man."

He laid a finger against his throat and shook his head.

"Mute!" The man behind him exclaimed with frustration that made this stranger sound very human.

She whispered words and reached out toward him... and Dacey held his breath, daring to hope while his heart nearly burst. She almost touched, but as her fingers came close, a spark leapt bright between them, burning his neck and her fingers.

"Enspelled!" she cried out, dismayed for reasons he couldn't imagine.

"You cannot help him, my sister." The man came forward and grasped her shoulders, pulling her to her feet. He looked very much like her, though a little taller. "The moons are going very low. We must leave!"

"Yes," she agreed, and met Dacey's look. She understood the pleading in his eyes. "It is man's magic. Do you understand? I cannot touch man's magic and end it. It is not our way."

He nodded and looked down, a moment's hope gone. When he lifted his head again, the two still stood there, watching him, while the others began to rush away, frantic music in their passing. He nodded his farewell and waved them away with a shaking arm.

"We must go," the other one whispered.

"Peace, Brother," she said. "We have a little time yet."

The brother who had taken her arm now shook his head with despair as he glanced back at the beast that growled behind them, still ready and waiting for his chance to attack again.

"He is so helpless there," the man said, drawing a look of surprise even from her sister. He lifted his hand, a whisper of words, and then something that sounded more akin to a curse. He shook his head again and looked down at Dacey. "We've felt this malevolent creature on the streets, but never come this close until now. We can do no more than annoy this creature with our powers. It has acquired a strange magic, and there is no time to find a way past its protections. Do you understand?"

Dacey nodded.

"Here man." The stranger reached into his belt and withdrew a fine silver bladed dagger with a handle of crystal. He held it down to him.

Dacey wanted to take the gift, and he willed his hand to reach -- but as his fingers brushed the weapon, the feel of metal shot through him with a new fire, the agony sending him tumbled back, his head pounding against the hard stone, and the darkness slipping closer again.

"A mage!" someone cried, amazement again.

"Fool child to try to touch what would kill you!" the woman said. She leaned down and caught his shoulders, pulling him upward, as though to chastise him even more, though she said no more.

He waved a hand toward the wyrdbane. What choice did he have?

"The wyrdbane will tear him to shreds," the man said, shaking his head in dismay before he looked toward the sky. "And if we stay much longer, the men will tear us apart as well when we are trapped here and powerless!"

Dacey waved them away, frantically looking at the moons. He did not want them trapped here, with the cruel humans --

The woman tilted her head, still looking at him. He could see no fear in her perfect face. Nor did he see the hatred he had expected once she realized he was a mage.

"In all the centuries we have walked these streets, every man has fled in fear from us. That is our way in the world now," she said softly. "But perhaps you would walk a ways with us. We can only save you for a short time more... but come."

She held out her hand and he reached, ("Come little Dacey. Trust me.") and let his fingers touch hers, a warm tingling of magic. He felt his first true despair of the night as he tried to come to his feet when he could not.

"Well, in all the time since the curse, I have wished to get my hands on a man," the brother said and sighed. "This is not how I imaged it would be."

He took Dacey under the arm and quickly, though gently, brought him to his feet. The movement left Dacey dizzy, and they had begun moving before he realized Brother had not let go, and that his sister had put an arm around his waist from the opposite side. Behind them, he could still hear the patter of four feet, though the wyrdbane stayed back.

The others sang as they moved; a melody that held light of day in every note, and beauty in every breath.

Sweet, sweet

Sad, sad

Longing for a place in the sun...

"He understands the dirge," Brother whispered. "I had never expected to see such a wonder in any man."

"He's more akin to us than them," she answered and held him tighter.

Dacey looked at her with a new whisper of wonder, not really believing that any of these beautiful starlight creatures thought so well of him. He didn't know why, but he savored that feeling in those dark moments of the night, even knowing he would die, one way or another, when the moons sank into the sea.

By the time they reached the shore, the potion had burnt through him, and left his very soul hollow with the emptiness. A haze covered his vision with a darkness more real than the night. He only noticed that they had stopped, and found the People of the Night standing on the cliff by the sea, with the palace just a little to the right. The twin moons rested upon the surface of the water like two eyes of a blind man, staring at them.

Or a blind god.

The two still held him to his feet as the others started out over the cliff, and downward on stairs of air. The water parted before them. Dacey thought he saw the shadowy light of distant buildings, far and deep within the waters.

They even tried to take him with them, but a wall stopped them and drove them back to the cliff. Gregor's spell condemned him to death without hope of escape.

"Gods help him!" She released Dacey and took hold of her brother's arm. "We can't take him with us. I'm sorry. We must go!"

Brother released him, and Dacey went to his knees as the wyrdbane behind him growled again, low and ready. He tried to turn, at least to face it, for whatever good that would do -- but he dropped on his hands instead, panting, the world spinning.

"No!" In the next moment, Brother leapt past Dacey, who saw a flash of the dagger in his hand, and heard words that were not man magic, but held power. The wyrdbane howled with pain, and the moons dropped, half eyes.

"We'll be lost!" the woman cried, but bounded past Dacey to help her brother.

While no magic of theirs could stop the creature, Dacey saw that they could still fight with weapons against those fangs and claws. He forced himself to his feet and stumbled into the melee, grabbing hold of the creature's arm and holding it down while the daggers plunged through the creature's chest and neck, burning him with their nearness.

The wyrdbane growled, coughed, and twitched -- and lay unmoving on the hard cliff side. Dacey gasped for breath and put a hand to a long, bleeding cut across his chest as he got back to his feet.

"Brave man," the brother said. He smiled brightly, despite a hand to his own wounded arm. "The moons go. We must leave!"

Dacey nodded, and watched brother move unsteadily toward the sea. Praise the gods, none of the others had stayed -- but the stranger stopped just over the cliff's edge to look back at his sister who had not yet left Dacey's side, even while the moons sat like white fire on the water.

She put a hand on Dacey's face, a touch gentle and warm. It had been so long since anyone had been kind...

"Don't look for us again. The night is not safe for man, and more than we were banished from the sun. Some seem to awaken of late, and hold undying hatred for man and mage. But sometime, mage, if the moons are high and you have need of help -- and the Gods grant you back your voice -- call for me. I will come to your aid. I am Phaedra."

"Phaedra," her brother whispered, frightened, though Dacey didn't know if it was for the gift of her name, or because only a touch of light shown against the sea.

She ran to the cliff and downward, arm-in-arm with her companion. Dacey stumbled to the edge and he watched until the moons disappeared, hiding the distant city from the sight of their enemies.

Alone.

He ached and bled, and he could already hear the sound of the guards behind the palace wall. They had undoubtedly overheard the dying bellows of the wyrdbane, if nothing else. Although he didn't have much time to get away, Dacey still paused to examine the body. It had been a man once, and Dacey hoped to find some clue about where it had touched magic. He wanted a hope still.

Only one thing drew his attention; a thin chain wrapped around the creature's neck, and a piece of wood nestled in a metal cage. It radiated magic in obvious contradiction to the metal around it. It was something akin to the People of the Night, perhaps... though he felt somehow that it was... not right even for them.

Dacey dared push his finger through the metal cage, grimacing at the burn --though it hardly added to any of the rest of his pain. He quickly ran his finger over the edge of the wood encased within, and pulled quickly away, repelled more by the violent evil of the talisman than even the metal.

He thought the thing called to him somehow. Shivering, he stood and backed away. He wanted nothing to do with something so dark. He would not, he realized, trade his soul for release.

For a moment he looked over the cliff and considered... but the People of the Night had given him another chance. Dacey turned and fled, hiding in the nearest shadows, just as he had so short a time before. He wondered if he had won or lost on this strange night.

Chapter Three

Candlelight flickered in the whisper of a breeze that worked its way through even the most tightly shuttered and glazed windows. There had been dark, dangerous sounds in the moon filled night. Prince Tain, Heir to the Throne, had sat in his room, close by the window, and listened. Something fought a battle not far away. And he wanted to see...

To look would be heresy, besides being dangerous, stupid, and willful...

But Prince Tain knew that turning his back to that battle would not help. Trouble walked the streets of their city, and struck even at the most fanatical true believers. Hiding in their homes and praying obviously provided no protection.

Tain did not open the window. Instead, he purposely turned his attention to the book on the desk before him -- no less heresy, and probably just as stupid.

While he scanned the text, the rest of the palace sat in dark silence. He listened with his breath held, ready to move at even the slightest sound of someone near by. He didn't want even the lowest servant happening opun him now, not with the History of Percalus sitting on his desk for all to see.

Forbidden book, it was a history of a time when man and mage worked together, and even the People of the Night were not considered enemies. The Temple of the Good Soul had forbidden knowledge of that time, though they could not entirely destroy the memory of it. The people still whispered the old tales to their children, about magical beings who helped instead of hindered. Prince Tain had heard those stories from servants even in his own protected childhood.

And he heard them again later from his wife. It had fallen to Tain's generation to marry outside the royal family, to make certain that new blood infused the Royal House. Tain's wife had lived life as the daughter of a prosperous merchant in an upcountry village before he brought her home to be his Princess. He loved her back-country accent, and still begged a story from her some nights, just to listen to her lovely voice.

But she wasn't here in Dodano now, and he had to find other ways to entertain himself. The palace had the largest collection of books in Dodano. He had wandered there, in the library earlier today, looking for anything to pass the time. His wife and children had all been sent inland to the royal estate where they would be, supposedly, safer. He and his brothers remained, apparently to sit idly in the palace while the King's Guard wandered the streets hunting shadows.

He could not sit still, nor could he willfully make himself useless.

Tain had known the book was on the forbidden lists from the temple, but boredom and annoyance made him do something daring. He swept aside the gate to the private area, and climbed up the stairs to a door that obviously did not get opened often. There he found a room with a half dozen dusty tones, all of them marked on the cover with the black wax stamp of disapproval from the Temple.

Since the Temple of the Good Soul had been no help at all during the crisis, Tain decided to look elsewhere. He took down one of the books, put it in a stack of three others from the unrestricted part of the library, and carried it back to his room. At thirty-five, and as Prince Heir, Tain thought he had long since passed the point of feeling naughty or worrying about being reprimanded. The act had almost amused him, even in these dark days.

Now, after reading the first few pages of Percalus, he felt more than certain that no one could be safe unless someone did something far more daring than reading a book. Percalus had seen this time coming all too well, in the last days before the falling out between magic-less man and the other creatures of the world. He had known that the day would come when turning the away from magic would only give enemies time to grow stronger.

Something shrieked outside with a combination of pain and anger -- and Tain slapped the book closed with a loud snap that startled him.

Oh hell. Tain decided he had probably read enough for tonight, anyway. It couldn't be long before the moons went down, and he thought he might go out with the guard tonight, to see what they found out there by the cliffs. Temptation drew his hand closer to the window's shutter and he almost pushed it open, even knowing the moons had not quite set.

What use would he be, hiding inside the palace? He and his three brothers stayed in the city to help fight this evil, and to stand by the King Tascon and Queen Dreana in this time of danger.

But when it came down to it, what did they do? Stay in the palace, huddled in their rooms like the lowest commoner hiding in his cottage with the doors barred. He would do no good here, not when he could hear the battles being fought outside their very gate.

And what did the good king, his father say? That whatever fought during the bright light of the moons was no business of theirs. They had to concentrate on finding the apprentice and killing it.

Tain felt a growing certainty that the trouble did not originate with the apprentice, nor even with the mage the king had already executed. For by killing him, they may well have destroyed the only barrier that had stood between the creatures of magic and men.

And that... that thought was complete and total heresy. He dared not whisper it, even to his lovely wife, if she were here. Damn, damn. There had to be answers.

He went back to the books, reading through another four pages before he heard the guard call out that the moons had gone down. Finally. Tain closed the book carefully this time, and slid it into his traveling case in the armoire.

He pulled on his cloak and went out of his room and down the hall. The Prince Heir did not usually come out in the middle of the night, but he felt it at least the duty of one of the royal house to show that they were not all hiding. The King's Guard could not have missed the sound of battle so close by, and neither could have anyone else in the palace.

Even still, Tain looked up in surprise when Clarion joined him in the lower hall, looking haggard and unhappy.

"Not sleeping well?" Tain asked.

"Not sleeping at all," Clarion said. "Damn, you can get used to a wife beside you quickly, can't you? And the sounds of a baby in the cradle close by. I want this trouble ended. Now."

"Well, if royal decrees could settle it, you'd have done it just then," Tain said with a laugh. "You have father's tone down nearly perfectly."

"Ah, such a great, backhanded compliment," Clarion said, but kept his voice lowered as they passed through the hall. Tain refrained from saying how much he looked like father as well, but then they all did. "Any idea what he plans, brother?"

"I think he plans to sit it out until this evil has destroyed the city and there's nothing left to fight for."

Clarion's eyes went wide, but he did appear to appreciate the candor. "Yes, I fear that may be true. I don't know what we can do, Tain. I really don't."

"We can work with the guard. They're our only hope now."

"Something fought damn close to the palace walls tonight," Clarion said softly.

Tain looked at the doors ahead: heavy, golden... and he feared they would prove an insubstantial barrier against the enemy. "I know. I heard. The guard, Clarion, they're the only hope we have... unless we can find other allies."

Clarion started to say something. Stopped. But Tain felt certain he understood, and that he didn't argue at all only proved that he, too, wasn't blind to the problems.

When he finally pushed the door open and stepped out, Tain grimaced. The night felt too warm, and the torches the guards held flickered fitfully. The guards saw the princes coming, though, and Tain saw a touch of relief in many eyes. He couldn't begin to understand how they could look to him and Clarion as though they offered something just by their presence.

"Sires," Captain Julin said, with a bow and salute, quickly mimicked by all the others. "Your wish?"

"To go out and find whatever is left of that battle," Tain said. "Let us see what we can learn. Any knowledge is helpful these days."

"Yes, sire," the Captain said. He didn't look reassured, though.

The guards marched forward, all perfect little soldiers... Tain tried not to feel apathy at their behavior. It was not their fault that they were trained to obey without question. Tain only feared that they would need something different for this war.

The large iron gate opened with a slight shrill protest of its own. They went out into the dark night, where tendrils of fog drifted up from the sea like the shadows of ghosts and the torches sputtered and danced in the growing breeze.

It did not take them long to find the dead creature by the cliff side.

Guards backed away, all except for one and the Captain. Silver, Tain thought he was, though he really didn't know many of the lower guards. This one had just always done well, in a quiet, unassuming way. Now he knelt over the creature, turning it slightly. By the time Tain and Clarion had arrived, though, even he had backed away.

"What the hell is that?" Clarion whispered, his foot nudging at the furry legs of the thing.

"Wyrdbane," Tain said. That drew a surprised look from brother, captain and guard. "We've all heard of them in stories. It has to be a wyrdbane -- one of those who has touched the dark magic, and been tainted by it."

He stopped himself. Having just read some of Percelus, it might be too easy to say more, and the last thing he needed right now was to draw attention to himself. He didn't want people to ask how he knew so much about magic. Having such knowledge would not be safe in this world.

"What do you think happened to it?" Clarion asked. He pushed at the body again, but refrained from getting closer. "What killed it? I heard a hell of a battle out here."

Tain nodded, then steeled himself and knelt down by the creature. He didn't look at the face -- half human, half animal. Nor did he look long at the clawed hands. The tattered clothing would no doubt help identify him later, but Tain didn't much care who he had been right now... unless learning that put an end to this trouble. He doubted it would be that easy.

Tain began to search the body. He heard the Captain take a gasping breath and a step forward, as though to stop him. But he didn't. Maybe they had all come to realize that they no longer had the option of looking away from the danger.

"Ah," he said, suddenly. That caught their attention. Even Clarion leaned down. "We can rule out the apprentice as the one who killed this beast."

"Can we?" Clarion said.

"He was killed with a knife. Good sharp blade, too."

Clarion knelt down this time as well, worries forgotten as he looked the wounds over. "Hell. You're right. Maybe the apprentice has some sort of weapon that he can use that leaves wounds like this?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it. Let's think about what we've learned about him. We know he's killed a few animals, both for food and protection."

"But he bludgeoned them, not cut them," Clarion said. "True. I don't like to think about who... what might have killed this one."

But he did glance out toward the sea.

Tain nodded and stood. "Whatever killed this thing, it did us a favor, you know. Let's hope this is the last we'll see of the trouble."

Clarion nodded, and didn't mention that they still had the Apprentice to deal with. Tain suspected that perhaps he, too, had begun to reconsider the real cause of trouble in Dodano.

However, despite what he had said, Prince Tain did not believe this would be the end. Something had turned this man into a wyrdbane, after all. There could be others, and there could be a worse enemy still, readying to attack. When Tain stood and stepped back, he looked around at the others... pausing for a moment to glance at Silver, who had stepped back, his hands inside his cloak, his face lost in shadows. And right then even he looked ominous.

The world would never feel safe again.

Chapter Four

The next day Dacey could hear much of the talk about the battle as people moved through the city around him. He rested, as best he could, in the musty mold of an old building, soon to be demolished and already empty. He ached in every inch of his body. His heart still fluttered at the slightest exertion and the cut across his chest continued to bleed, leaving him light-headed. More than once the world went dark around him. He always came back with a start when he heard voices, and he suspected weakness alone kept him from making too much noise and being found.

An old woman's shrill voice called him back in the late afternoon. "...Stabbed to death, my son said. Just lying there on the beach, stabbed and dead."

"Wyrdbane," another said, a voice equally shrill, but genderless. "Curse those magics. It's not done yet, ya' know. Not till they put the iron to the apprentice. It's not done, I say. He brought the creature to stalk the pious!"

"None safe when magic's loose!"

And they moved on. Dacey wondered why he thought the city would be more forgetful of him with the creature dead. He only wanted peace for a while, until he could think of something more he might do to lift his own curse. He didn't want to hide forever in the shadows until some lucky guard's sword took him by surprise.

He shuddered at the realization that such an incident would surely come to pass in the near future. Exhausted, and afraid to sleep by either day or night, he would make more mistakes as the days wore on.

He stared at the blue sky through the broken rafters and watched the clouds drift past. For a while he thought of nothing save how nice it might be to fly like the clouds and be free of the island.

He could go to the guard and turn himself in.

("Not till they put the iron to the apprentice...")

That was a horrible way to die, through long and excruciating days. No one to turn to, nowhere to go. He could end his own life; it would be better than letting the guards put iron to him and kill him with slow torture. They said it took weeks for old Gregor to die...

But he fell asleep again before could actually do anything....

The day had changed to night before he awoke again. If anything, he felt worse. Muscles had cramped, and he could hardly move his legs without spasms of pain spreading from ankles to knees. His mouth had gone dry, and each breath seemed to burn all the way down to his lungs.

He sat up by a force of will that he didn't think he could repeat, so he stayed there despite the edge of black and red edging his sight, his hands clinching at the ground as though he or it was actually in danger of slipping away.

Dangerous. The guards who were lax during the day turned more alert at night if for no other reason than to combat boredom. They did search through the rubble of buildings and into the dark shadowed crevices.

Trembling with worry and weakness, he looked up through the rafters and judged it near moon's rise. He'd gotten lucky on this one night when they might have taken him unawares.

He would have the next few hours to get himself pulled together, and then another hour of dark in which to play cat and mouse with the guard. At least now the Wyrdbane would no longer be a factor as well -- he would no longer feel like a mouse scurrying between two cats.

The first sprinkling of silver moonlight danced through the ruined wall, bringing new shadows in the dark, and giving him some strength.

Phaedra...

He had purposely driven her from his mind, but now with the moons glow around him, he couldn't help but strain to hear the sound of the bittersweet song.

More than we were banished from the sun, and some awaken of late....

Even her voice had been like colors, flowers, and spring. He thought a rose would surely bloom in but a few moments of the darkest night, if she only stood by the bush long enough.

Phaedra --

He managed to reach his feet before he stopped himself. Dacey knew the folly of chasing after The People of the Night. Man they called him, with the same tone of distaste and distrust that he had heard mage from others. To the People of the Night, he was only another of he beings who had stolen the sun away from them.

The truth saddened him. He would rather spend a few hours of moonlight with all the People's beauty and peace, than spend all the days of sunlight with those to whom he had been born. They had never been kind. He would not have named himself still a man, but he couldn't deny that judgment passed on him by others.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Dacey spun, certain that something watched him. The world tilted with his sudden dizziness, but he could see nothing as he caught hold of the wooden wall to keep his balance.

Perhaps only his nerves....

A shadow moved between the wall and the street beyond. His heart pounded, and his vision danced as he watched the shadow moving, moving... a glint of metal.

A guard? In the light of the moons? For a moment the surprise stilled him, and he didn't even back away from the glint of a sword held at arm's length as the figure came toward him.

"Mage," the guard whispered. "We have sought you."

The stone talisman pulsed in Dacey's pocket, and he brought it out, the bright blue light of the stone illuminating the guard before him. The shine of the metal sword, shield and helmet staggered him with the nearness. He fell back two steps, but the guard moved steadily toward him until Dacey stopped and held his ground. He hadn't the strength to run anyway.

For the first time he saw the wood that hung at the guard's neck. Dacey looked back up and met the flashing eyes of this creature who, after less than a day, already did not seem quite human.

"Ah, you see things, mage." The guard chuckled, but it sounded unnatural and eerie, with an accent that he had not heard before. The guard moved a little closer, the metal catching light again. "And if you could speak, we would be in dire danger."

We? Gods! Was that little piece of wood intelligent? He silently cursed himself for not having at least thrown it into the sea when he had the chance, though he would not have wished such a thing on Phaedra and her people. Still, they might have stood a chance against it.

Now he didn't know what to do. He couldn't get near the wood, not with the guard's metal everywhere around him. Dacey could hardly breathe for it, and his mind felt like a trapped mouse, skittering around the corners of a room. He could see no way out except to run, and he knew he would never escape that way.

"We dare not leave you here to aid our enemies. They will come for Her. They will not find help here, even from a mute and powerless mage. Oh yes, I know about the spells. I know why you cannot speak. You are powerless against me."

The sword swung at him.

Dacey fell as much as ducked, and the sword completely missed him, but only because the sword jerked at the last moment -- as though something fought against it. As Dacey got back to his feet and unsteadily backed away, he wondered what the man was thinking. Did he regret the killing of Gregor? Did he realize that by banishing the magic only from themselves, they left the way open for other things to have free reign? One could not fight against the sword with only a fist, or magic with only a sword. Had all those people really thought themselves untouchable because they closed their doors to it in the darkness?

The guard stepped toward him, sword still held at the ready...but the hand shook. Moonlight reflected from the blade and danced across the rubble and the walls. Dacey still backed away, wondering if he somehow might get free. He could run, but not far. This thing would hunt him through the night as he had hunted it until last night.

Then, unexpectedly, the sword lowered and dropped into the dirt.

"Mage," the guard whispered. His voice sounded different. "Kill me."

The man's body shook with the fight to retain his hold. Dacey met the man's eyes, half hidden behind the metal helm, and saw only horror, pain and fear there.

"Kill me! I know you understand why. She warps me, this little piece of wood. I only touched it and she held me. She wants you dead because you are the only one left among the humans who could help those who will come to destroy her." He knelt slowly, his trembling hand reaching out for the sword, while his eyes locked on Dacey. "Kill me!"

The hand touched the sword. Dacey saw open fear, regret and loss in the man's gray eyes. Dacey vaulted straight at the man, and only at the last moment did the wood... the creature... realize what he intended to do -- too late to stop him. He grabbed hold of the chain and wood, and yanked it free.

No! Something screamed in his mind, hatred and fear running like fire in his blood. Evil. Power. Power to rule this miserable, little magic-blighted land.

But the feel of so much evil made him ill. His hand clutched the wood, though, the fingers numb with pain and cold where the chain hung down. He could not let it go.

Power to destroy all those who have hunted you. Power to demand and to command.

He had never longed for power. She could not entice him --

She whispered in the back of his mind. Yes, she. Oh I could give you back your voice... if you were mine. Aid me against my enemies, and you shall speak again. Trust me.

("Come little Dacey. Trust me." And she gave him over to Gregor, who took away his voice, his freedom, and his right to be only a man.)

"Let her go mage," a voice whispered softly nearby. The guard stood over him, bringing the sword to point at his heart. The nearness still stung, even over Her fire and pain. "You have to let Her go. If She holds you, we are all doomed. Do you understand?"

Dacey forced himself to nod and focused his attention on making the thing let go of him.

No, she whispered in his soul. No. You are the power by which I shall avenge my defeat. Aubreyan shall fail and fall. You will not let go.

The sword passed before his eyes, the pain blinding him with tears. He would die by iron after all... but at least for a reason.

No.

His hand started to move. It was not his mind controlling it. Dacey looked up at the guard and the sword, and nodded. The man understood, but the blade still paused before it struck.

No! She screamed this time, like a wild bird clawing at his soul. No! You cannot wish to die!

To be yours is not to live.

The sword pulled back and Dacey took a gasping breath as the pain eased for a moment. He saw the guard's face, caught in the bright moonlight for a moment. Dacey hadn't expected to see the mixture of emotions there -- fear, confusion, but compassion and sadness as well.

Kill him! Fire burnt in Dacey's arm as she tried to force him to move.

No! But his arm went numb and moved against his will, the wood coming toward his chest to touch his heart, to kill or claim him forever.

The sword moved again, and Dacey watched as the blade swung downward toward his arm, and then closed his eyes. He did not need to watch his death coming for him...

It burnt before it touched, and then he felt nothing but agony that went from his arm to his heart. He gasped...

Not dead.

"It worked!" The guard sounded surprised and pleased.

Dacey realized he had dropped Her, but that hardly compensated as he pressed his wounded arm tight to his chest. The wrist bled profusely, but obviously the guard had not meant to cut deep or he would have severed the hand. However, even over the pain of the wound he could still feel the fire where metal had touched his skin, cutting.

"Let me see."

Dacey looked up to find the guard kneeling beside him. Too close! The metal of his armor left Dacey gasping with more pain.

"Let me help. I'll bandage your wrist." He spoke like an adult trying to convince a lost and frightened child that he could be trusted. He fumbled at his belt and held out a small, metal flask. "Drink this. It will help with the pain."

He pressed the flask forward, and Dacey tried to pull away, nearly falling this time. He shuddered when the man caught his shoulder. "It's not poison. What -- metal!"

Dacey nodded, relieved was the guard tossed the flask aside. The metal-ringed armor vest followed, and the helmet next, revealing short brown hair and a small scar on the guard's forehead. He continued to pull away metal objects until he faced Dacey as a man as powerless against the mage as the mage was against him.

"Let me bandage your wrist before you lose any more blood," he offered, holding out his hands. They did not tremble. "You look very pale."

Dacey carefully extended his arm, blood dripping slowly from the wrist and his fingers still limp. The guard gently grasped the hand, finally trembling from the fear of generations who never would have dared to touch him.

"I didn't cut deep, but I suppose the metal made it worse."

Dacey managed to nod, watching as the stranger very gently wrapped a piece of cloth, torn from his own tunic, around the wound. The guard's hands began to shake less, and the bandage helped, at least with the bleeding. He still felt the fire of metal all the way to his chest, aching with each breath. Dacey tried to massage some feeling back into his cold, limp fingers.

"What shall we do with Her?" the guard asked and looked down at the ground.

The rune carved wood lay where Dacey had dropped her, a circle of damp, darker ground beside her. His blood. He shuddered, but knew he could have lost far more if this guard hadn't held his blow, or if the creature had taken him. The remembrance of her touch on his soul left him visibly shuddering.

"Hey!" A very gentle hand touched his shoulder. "Are you all right? You know you look like you've had more than one fight lately. The Wyrdbane last night?"

Dacey nodded, wishing he could tell this man about the People of the Night and the beauty, loss and longing that he had experienced when he stood by them. The guard might understand, now.

"The creature was stabbed to death. You must have had some help." Observant. Good. He nodded again, and looked up at the sky. The guard followed that look, and then shook his head. "It's likely just as well that you can't tell me what sort of aid you had. I can only deal with so much in one night. She still remains, and unless we want someone else to come along and pick her up, we had better do something. Bury her?"

No. He knew what they must try, though he had doubts that even it would work against this preternatural wood. He stood, and accepted the guard's cautious help when his head began to swim. But he stayed to his feet and squinting to the rubble around him. When he crossed to one of the many fallen walls, the guard followed, looking curious. Dacey kicked at the debris, then reached down and yanked at a long, thin plank of wood. At least his fingers moved now, though he really couldn't feel them.

"Let me. You'll only make your wrist bleed more. Besides, you don't really look as though you have the strength to do this."

Dacey relinquished his hold on the board. The guard did pull the wood free with surprising ease, and held it for a moment before he nodded. "Wood for a fire? Do you think that will work?"

Dacey shrugged. Really, he couldn't have replied better with words. He followed the guard back to Her and watched as he broke the wood into bits and pieces, placing them over and around her, though he carefully kept his hands from even accidentally brushing against her.

"I suppose we need to start the fire now," the guard said. He looked up at the sky and shook his head. "I've never been out in the moonlight before. But we can't wait until the moons go down, or the guard will be out and see. Neither of us can afford that."

Dacey looked up to measure the time. If this worked, then they would have plenty of time. If it didn't, then it hardly mattered.

The guard had retrieved his dagger and flask. "I'll use these to start the fire. You better stay back.

Dacey had already started moving away from the metal before he spoke, and retreated to the darkest corner of the ruin. He wished he could tell the guard that he, too, feared lighting a fire with those moon-eyes watching.

Flickering illumination suddenly brightened the walls, then died back down. He heard the snapping of wood, and could smell smoke laced with ale. The guard stepped away from the fire, moving back to where Dacey still stood.

"I think I saw Her start to blacken along the edges," he whispered, and then cringed at sound like a moan from the fire. "I can't believe it could be this easy, but I can't think of anything else."

Dacey agreed with a nod, and tried to peer past the flames to see the rune-covered wood. He wanted to see it burning.

Something cried out, far louder this time. The guard moved closer to him, and Dacey took an involuntary step away, his hand held out.

The guard looked down at the flask and dagger. "Forgive me," he said, and tossed the flask, though he judiciously only sheathed the dagger.

Dacey nodded his thanks, and then shivered as something cried out again. The flames rose up toward the ruined ceiling... unnaturally high. She cried out louder still, but he didn't think it was a sign of pain. Frustration, perhaps. Anger. No fear...

"Gods help us," the guard whispered.

Dacey nodded and put a hand to the wall beside him when he began swaying with weakness. He found that the wall moved, crumbing at his touch as though the stones shuddered. He caught hold of the guard's arm and propelled him toward the door.

"What --"

But the ground moved beneath their feet, and Dacey stumbled, going to one knee before he recovered. The guard grabbed his arm and pulled him along toward the exit.

She stopped screaming. They both looked back with a moment's shared hope. The fire still rose toward the moons, burning through more of the roof. She laughed as it began to collapse.

Something moved under the ground, tunneling toward the fire. The earth churned and bubbled like a thick stew come to boil. Roots, stones and creatures of the soil came to the surface and disappeared again. Dacey watched in horrified fascination, even while his mind remained rational enough to think that it would likely be the last thing that ever fascinated him in this life.

The ground rose in a sudden, uneven lump beside the fire, and then erupted in a mass of flying dirt and rock that pelted the two. They both backed out of the broken frame of the door and into the open, and dangerous, night. Dacey could see back inside where something had begun to slip upward out of the ground. A dirt brown hand as large as Dacey's head reached through the fire as though the flames did not exist.

The guard drew his dagger... looked at it for a moment, and then glanced at Dacey. Their eyes met in a look of mutual misgivings. He put the dagger back into the sheath, and Dacey nodded. Better not to be noticed just now.

The giant fingers probed the burning wood and at last curled around the cylindrical and slightly blackened object, which they had both hoped to destroy, not give to something even more powerful.

"Now we are in trouble," the man beside Dacey whispered. The guard took hold of Dacey's arm and began to pull him away again. The hand and wood descended back into the hole, and the fire immediately dropped back to normal height, though some parts of the roof still burnt. Dacey would not be spending any more time hiding here.

But a moment later the ground began to tremble again, and then move with a more violent agitation. Dacey suspected that whatever had taken the wood only now learned that she held him, not the other way around. The shaking put them to their knees. They crawled to the other side of the cobblestone road, part of it destroyed where the creature had burrowed through, and watched as the ruins disintegrated. Dacey imagined that the entire island felt the quake, and there would be much pious praying behind closed doors tonight. He hoped it helped.

The ground grew still beneath his hands. The crumbled, fallen remains of the old ruin settled with a last, soft moan, and even the fire appeared to have been quenched by the stone and dirt that had fallen on it.

For a while neither of them moved.

"The moons are going down!" The guard stood, new horror in his face. "I must get back to my guard post before they make the rounds, or I'll be hung!"

Dacey didn't understand why the guard only stood there, staring forlornly into the rubble. "Ill never be able to find my sword and armor in time, or give an acceptable answer about what happened to them. Gods, there's no hope at all!"

Dacey could find them, and fairly fast. He got quickly to his feet and hurried back into the mass of stone and wood.

"Do you think you can find them? But She implied that you had no magic," the guard said, and caught hold of him when he started to slip on a pile of treacherous debris. Dacey held out his hand to the dagger, biting at his lower lip.

"Ah! But... it hurts, doesn't it?"

Dacey looked up in shock that the man should even care. The guard bowed his head, and Dacey pulled away again, embarrassed by his own reaction. He went back to the search until he felt something burn the tips of his fingers. He stumbled backward, gasping despite himself.

"There, huh? Get back. I can get them."

Dacey gratefully retreated until he sat on the edge of what had been the outer wall. The moons nearly touched the ocean already. So little time. He could hear the guard grunting at his work, but Dacey leaned back on his good arm, resting. Had it been only last night that he had walked for a short time with the People of the Night? He looked toward the distant sea and wondered if they danced now upon the shore. Phaedra....

"There." The glint of metal brought him back to this latest disaster with a start. The guard stood before him, his helmet in hand. It looked a little dusty, and maybe dented. Dacey hoped he could come up with a good explanation of any damage.

The moment felt too awkward. Dacey only bowed his head, and then gave a little wave of his hand to send the man on his way before it was too late.

"She'll come after you, still."

Dacey nodded.

"Is there nothing you can do?"

Dacey waved a hand toward the building. They'd done all they could tonight, and nothing had helped. But the guard still stood before him, shaking his head.

"I know you are a threat to her. I learned a great deal while... while she held me. She feared you, and I know that there are others coming to stop her."

Aubreyan shall fail...

Dacey nodded. He had caught that much from her as well.

"They'll help you. And I'll do what I can, but I have to move secretly. I'll do no good if I'm caught in league with you. I know you understand, even if it isn't right. I can read, a little, so if you can get a note to me, I'll try to get to you. I'm called Silver."

Dacey smiled at the irony. People sometimes named their children for some form of iron to keep them safe from magic. Silver backed away a step, then another, and bowed.

"Be careful, Mage."

And he fled down the street, soon lost in the shadows... Another ally from a world where he could not go. Phaedra beyond his call, and Silver beyond his touch....

Chapter Five

The council chamber walls showed an old map of the world, a place before the wars of magic had destroyed so much of the land, and left Dodano little more than an island in a sea of trouble. The great stretches of earth that had been the empire were gone, and some said that when the People of the Night had been banished to the sea, they tried to submerge the entire world with them.

Looking at the map, and knowing that at best only a third of that land still stood above the sea, Tain could believe it.

He wondered how the others in this room, looking at that map, could feel safe and complacent as they turned their backs on magic. Tain didn't feel safe, not at all with the new trouble plaguing the city.

It would not end well, he feared. But he said nothing yet. Prince Tain took his place at the far end of the long table, his brothers filing in behind him and going to their own chairs. King Tascon sat in the throne at the other end of the room, and across the long, burnished wood table from the Princes sat the five councilors, four city officials, and the High Priest of the Good Soul. He was praying. Tain suspected the old man did a lot of that these days, for all the good it did them.

He held his tongue.

"The Council begins," King Tascon said, a bow of his head toward the table.

No preliminary speeches this time. Maybe, for once, his father had begun to see that they had wasted enough time already.

Cralis, a city official was the first to push his plaque to the center of the table. He looked nervous, uncertain, but Tain could also see the determination in his face.

"By your leave, Your Highness," Cralis said, bowing toward the throne.

The king gave a tight-lipped nod of his head, and Tain gritted his teeth and put his hands, fingers firmly laced, on the table before him. He knew by that look that this would not go well after all.

"Something stalks the city still," Cralis said, his voice steadying, and his hands at his side. "In the month since that creature died, we have been wracked by strange quakes, and even more people have died... and some have changed, Your Highness. Some have become evil. We must do something."

"We must kill the apprentice," King Tascon said, leaning forward, his watery blue eyes staring at those who set at the table with an intensity that frightened the others into silence.

"By your leave, sire," Tain said. He held his fingers tightly together still. "I am not convinced that this is the work of the Apprentice."

"The Apprentice is an evil creature, tearing at our world to get even with us for... for killing his master," the King said. His eyes had gone wide, white showing around them. Tain starred in utter, profound dismay. The man had gone mad. "The Apprentice must be killed before we can have peace again!"

"Sire," Clarion said, softly. "We still hunt the Apprentice, but we need to divert some of the troops to hunting this other danger as well --"

"No!" he yelled and his fist hit the throne, a dull smack of flesh against wood. "No! You will kill this evil Apprentice and we'll be safe again. I will allow no other duty for the army."

Tain saw that both councilors and city officials had begun to look dismayed as well, and were not hiding it well this time. Obviously they had come to plead for just what Clarion had suggested, but they could all see the futility of attempting such a discussion, not to mention the dangerousness of it.

Useless meeting. Tain felt half tempted to stand up and walk out, but he couldn't quite go that far in his treason. Instead he looked at his brothers and gave a little signal they all knew. Leave it be. They couldn't hope to change his mind.

"What other business is there?" King Tascon demanded and looked at the table, daring them to say more. Tain could see it in his face.

"Sire," Councilor Pura said softly, bowing his nearly bald head. He looked as though he'd aged another decade in the last few months. "Please listen to reason. We can hunt both the Apprentice and this other evil. Right now the army falls over itself, they are so thick trying to do the one job --"

"And not doing it well enough," the King said, leaning forward again. "They have not caught it. I might start to think they don't want to, and you don't want that."

"Enough," Tain said, surprising even himself. "Enough. We have problems, father --" Yes, forgo all titles this time. Make him think like a human, if possible. "The Apprentice is cunning, the Apprentice is sly, and the Apprentice is living on his wits. If the Apprentice had the power to bring about all these other problems, then we'd have something to fear from him. As it is, all we have is a somewhat dangerous animal wandering the streets, and all the army trampling around trying to catch him... while something far more dangerous moves about at its leisure stalking our city and people. It is time that we do something to stop it, father."

"The Apprentice must be killed first," the man said. And the madness came back to his eyes, along with a fit of anger that made his face red. "And another question of my authority from you, my son, and you may well find yourself in a cell with him."

Tain started to say something. Clarion clapped a hand on his arm and shook his head. But Tain could see that the others across the table looked equally bothered.

"Sire, I shall join the army and help them hunt the Apprentice. Once we have accomplished that, then I shall turn their attention to more pressing matters."

"You are the Crown Prince," King Tascon said, his eyes narrowing this time. "It is not your place to stand out in the streets with the guards."

"You have other sons. And unless we all do our best to stop this evil that has struck the city, I really don't think it will matter much who is the heir."

"I forbid --" he began.

"Sire," Councilor Pura said, interrupting the king. Tain didn't think any councilor had done that in generations, but it suited the madness of this meeting. "Sire, the people believe that you have turned your back on their needs. Allowing Prince Tain to attend the army and help with that work will not only give the army guidance, but also give the city hope. The people are in need of that, sire. They are very much afraid."

King Tascon shook his head, denying it all. And it was more than Tain could bear this time. He stood, shaking off Clarion's hand. "Father, either arrest me now or face the fact that I am going to help the army as best I can. We will hunt the Apprentice -- I will not turn them away from your orders. I will not commit treason. But I will do my best to make sure we are free to save the city."

He thought the king might still argue, but he stopped when the rest of his sons stood as well. Tain had not expected it. It was not wise of them. Tain could see in his father's eyes that he would never forgive them for this affront.

And for the first time in his life, Tain shrugged off the king's feelings. The man couldn't live forever, and it occurred to Tain just now that he hadn't much power either, except what they allowed him to have in times like this. Another push, and Tain would have been tempted to ask the good priest to declare him insane and usurp the crown before they left the room.

Oh, but his father was canny enough to know when to stop. He sat back again, his face sullen, but his voice subdued. "So be it, Tain. Go out and hunt with the army."

And don't come back, Tain thought would be the finish of the line. He could almost hear the words, but some sanity kept his father from saying them. Instead he looked at the table, glaring.

"Thank you, Sire. I shall do my best to help end this trouble."

Kin Tascon nodded with a regal sort of acceptance that put Tain's teeth on edge. Oh, he could see the look of rage still in his father's eyes. There would be no forgiveness, not from this encounter.

No matter. It had to be done.

The rest of the meeting went quickly, at least. No one wanted to press the king on anything else, though Tain could see worries in the eyes of the others when they looked to him. And oh yes, they did look to him far too often just now, as though seeking some sort of leadership. He didn't want his father's anger to turn on these people, but it would if they didn't temper those feelings right now.

Somehow, they all left the room with their positions and their heads still in place. Tain and his three brothers left first, and when Zev started to speak, Tain shook his head.

"Not here. We don't want to be found discussing... anything just outside the chamber, do we? And I want to be well out of range before the councilors come out."

The other three looked back at the door in an almost comic unison. They followed Tain away at a pace that startled servants, but got them down the hall and to a staircase well ahead of the geriatric councilors and city officials.

At the bottom of the next flight, Tain stopped and raised his hand. "I'm going out to the army. I will spend the time I can with them, but I have no intention of cutting myself off from the palace."

"I'll go with you," Clarion said. "No, don't argue. You need someone to guard your back, and right now is not the time to trust strangers."

"We have to trust them," Tain said. "They're our only hope."

"I'm still going," Clarion said, and got that look again -- far too much like their father's stare, and without the fear of anything to lose if he didn't temper it.

At least Zev and Micah didn't look inclined to get involved in this disagreement. Tain looked from one brother to the next and finally stopped at Clarion again. He shook his head but gave in to the inevitable. He couldn't stop Clarion, after all. "Fine. Come with me. You two, I trust, will try to keep things in line here in the palace?"

"Yes," Micah said. "I'll stay close and make certain nothing untoward happens with the councils."

Although older than Clarion, Micah had never been much tempted to daring. And that worked for them now. Tain knew he could trust Micah implicitly.

"Thank you," Tain said. He waved Micah and Zev away, though Zev looked tempted to argue as well. "No, go with Micah. Pairs. Clarion is right -- we need to protect each other just now. We'll be back by dawn."

"You'll stay outside the palace tonight?" Zev asked, looking toward the door with a start.

"Yes. The people -- both the citizens and the guards -- need to know that we realize the danger and are willing to stand up with them. They all need to know that before they start wondering what good we are at all."

His brothers didn't argue.

Chapter Six

Days of hiding and nights of fleeing, and days again; a cycle from which Dacey didn't think he would ever escape, except in death. He hid, an animal in a predator's lair. There was no safety when the sun went down and he only slept in snatches during the bright light of day. He ate from trees and gardens, dreading that winter was not far away. He hid what foods he could for the coming cold, and wondered if he might steal a cloak from somewhere. The nights had gone cold already, and he feared to light a fire either when the moons were up or down. The ground still shook now and then, and Dacey knew She still hunted him.

The people of the city thought the quakes were omens, and seemed to be in a constant state of unease. They still searched for the Apprentice, but even they had begun to suspect something more was afoot.

Dacey barely survived the days that turned to weeks, and then to months. He lived in anticipation of something more that would come to pass... something that would alter his world one way or another. Aubreyan was coming.Shehad believed it so strongly that he couldn't doubt, even now. Aubreyan was coming, and together they would defeat this evil. That was all he lived for, and he wondered if there would be a reason to live beyond it.

The first snow fell, a long shower of white that drifted downward all through the day and kept most of the people inside. As the sun slipped below the gray sea, the wind began to howl with a new force that blasted through alleys and around even the most substantial walls. Dacey huddled against the faintly warm bricks of a baker's outside oven, but the fire within had gone dead, and the night guard would soon be out. They had been looking for him in this area lately. He'd been careless, and someone had seen him stealing bread. It had been the first warm food he'd eaten in months; warm and sweet.

For a moment he felt like he might not be an animal after all. And then he had wept. The soldiers almost caught him that night. He had almost wished that they had.

The bakers had cleared the ovens early tonight, their stores safe in buildings for the morning trade. Dacey reluctantly pulled away from the oven when he heard the tramp of heavy boots not far away. He pulled the scraps of his worn and ragged tunic around his arms, draping the discarded, moth eaten blanket he'd found in the trash like a cloak around his shoulders. Then he moved out into the open. Ice pelted his face and froze in his hair and stung his beardless face. He considered letting a beard grow, but it would mark him as different from most of the locals, and draw attention in those brief moments when people saw him sometimes. He needed as much anonymity as he could manage.

He felt the cold, but didn't allow himself even to shiver, though he had a harder time fighting back the fear that he would not survive this night. He purposely turned into the wind that would hide his tracks, and walked until his eyes flooded with tears and he could not see.

His foot found the edge of some small stone outcropping that lay hidden in the layers of white and ice. Dacey fell forward, too numb to even roll with the fall. His head hit the stone, a hard blow that penetrated the cold with a sharp pain and a sting of the wound. He felt blood at his temple and grimaced. This was a new form of suicide: to face the cold, dark and snow, and never admit he could lose to it. His brain must have gone numb with the rest of his body.

He sat up and saw a patch of red where his head had hit. He started to rub the stain away.

The ground shook. The snow swirled just before him, growing like a whirlpool. The talisman began to pulse warm at his neck.

Dacey scrambled to his feet, limping away a dozen steps before he finally realized how this creature had seemed to so often just suddenly find him. His summer sandals had worn thin through the fall, and were now more rags than leather. He wrapped his feet in cloth, but he still cut them now and then on the rough hard ground, leaving small patches of red behind him. He had worried that the guard would be able to track him through those traces, but apparently the guard didn't believe the apprentice could bleed. They never followed.

But she did. He had held her for a moment while his wrist bled, and she had the taste now -- she and her inhuman ally.

He moved farther away from the whirlpool and through them mists of falling snow, watching to see that it did not follow. The city had gone silent and still, and he doubted even the guard came out in this weather. He must find shelter before the fury of this storm did what neither enemy could. He turned back into the wind looking for a hovel where he might find sanctuary.

Dacey found the best he could, another ruin, but one only recently made by all the quakes. The family had quickly moved from this ill-omened site. He found a fallen piece of roof still partially intact and crawled under, pulling up some debris to cover the opening and keep much of the snow out.

That left only a small interior area, but just being out of the wind felt warmer. So long as it snowed, the temperatures wouldn't drop much lower... but once this storm blew by, even the day would be bitterly cold. He would have to find better cover than this before long, and right now he hadn't a single idea where to turn.

He pulled the ratty blanket up over his shoulders and leaned back against the wall, hoping to sleep...

"There you are."

Dacey sat up with a start, hitting his head and trying to crawl away from the giant shadow that obscured the faint gray light of the night outside.

"Hey!" A hand reached. Familiar voice. "Careful! It's me, Silver!"

Dacey stopped his retreat and looked up at the figure, still doubting. He had not seen Silver since their first encounter on that ill-fated night. He didn't quite believe --

"Mage?" Silver stepped forward and knelt, worry in his voice. "I've combed every ruin in this sector looking for you. The guard went in for the night, and I thought perhaps you could use some help. Come on out. There are warmer places we can go to."

That proved a lure he could not turn down. Besides, he had nowhere to run even if this proved to be an enemy. The shadowy figure stood and moved back, and Dacey could see the outline of Silver's face. Dacey reached for him, and then held his hand away, frowning.

"It's safe," Silver said. He pulled back his fur-collared cloak. "No iron."

Silver reached and pulled Dacey up. He came to his feet, his legs a little numb now. He didn't understand why Silver had come to him on this horrid night.

"I've lain awake many nights wondering where you were, worrying that you might fail -- and afraid you might win. All my life I've been inundated with the fear of magic. It's not been easy to change those feelings, even knowing what I do." He paused, reaching out to catch hold of Dacey's arm again before he could lean back against the wall. "But I came because it's cold and I feared for you. Come. My home has a warm fire."

Dacey stared for a long moment and the disbelief must have been plain in his face. Silver offered a slight smile and a bow of his head.

"Warmth and food, at least until dawn when my sister and mother come back. They went to take care of a sick friend's children at the other side of town, and they'll not come back until late tomorrow, if then. Will you accept my invitation?"

Or stay out here and freeze? Dacey nodded, and hoped he didn't look too enthusiastic.

"Good. Come on." Silver looked down at Dacey from a good five inches of superior height, and then pulled off his cape and threw it across Dacey's shoulders. It felt warm and luxurious, and Dacey pulled the material closer without even thinking... and then glanced back at Silver who had not started away yet, despite that he must have felt the cold worse without his covering.

"You know, I can look at you now and think you're only a homeless boy -- oh I know, you need not look so frustrated. I know you're not that young, but you look it. Come on. We're wasting time here, aren't we?"

Dacey carefully made his way across the ruin beside Silver. The guard looked at him now and again, as though he wondered why he'd come after the mage. Dacey wondered as well, but he trudged along through the snow that reached half to his knee. His feet had gone quite numb and he stumbled so often that Silver took his arm again to help him. It was not only the cold that left him so weak.

"We're half way there," Silver mumbled, the words hardly heard in the growing wind. Dacey nodded and tried to hurry, as much for Silver's sake as for his own. The guard had to be less used to this weather than he, even if he did have better clothing for it.

Dacey's foot found an uneven depression, but he didn't realize it until he tumbled, hitting his head again --

"Hey!" Silver began pulling him back up out of the snow. "Easy. Sorry. I shouldn't have tried to rush you."

Dacey got to his feet, his legs too numb to feel any pain. He put numb fingers to his head and came away with a touch of red. He squinted into the dark, and saw the telltale spot on the snow as well. Dacey caught hold of Silver's arm and began to pull him away.

The ground shook.

"Gods protect us!" Silver whispered.

They ran, back through the city and empty streets, past the temple and out through the empty square. Dacey only slowed when he could not possibly run any farther, and came to a stop leaning against a building.

Silver gasped, looking at him and shaking his head. "You knew it was coming."

Dacey nodded.

"How? Because you fell? Did you hear it? Did you feel it coming"

Dacey shook his head. He touched his forehead and came away with a little smear of blood. He held that out, and then mimed brushing it against the snow, though he made certain none actually touched the ground. Silver looked at him for along moment, and then turned and started away without a word. Dacey watched... fearing that his friend would leave him here.

But Silver stopped at the next corner and looked back. "Come on. It's too cold out here."

Silver said nothing as they trudged through the snow and past most of the city houses, until they reached the door of a small stone and thatch cottage, much like many others along the edge of town. Silver pulled away the piece of iron above the threshold -- a common practice in this part of town. Dacey looked around before he came nearer. The closest cottage to Silver,s looked tightly closed for the night, and no curious prying eyes looked out to see the strange creature Silver signaled inside.

As he stepped inside, warmth encircled him, and Dacey crossed to the fireplace and held his red, aching fingers toward the flame. He couldn't remember the last time he really felt warm.

"You hardly look as though you could save the world," Silver said as he came near, holding his own hands out as well. "There's soup in the pot. Can you eat something cooked in iron? Good. I'll get it."

Silver played the perfect host, so unlike anyone Dacey could remember. There had been formality once, when he had been very young, and servants who were ever polite. Then there had been Gregor --

Get the ale boy, and fetch me some bread. You can eat when you finish that spell text. You're doing well. You'll be a great mage one day.

Not without a voice. Gods curse him. He had tried not to feel anger at the man who had died so horribly, but the longer he survived like this, the more he hated the man who had left him crippled, and unable to help with something only he could do.

He sat on the hearth after the bowl of soup and rested, wishing he could have been better company for Silver, and wishing he could have told his companion how grateful he felt for this time out of the storm.

"Mage?"

Dacey looked up, realizing he had actually fallen asleep for a moment or two. Silver held out boots. They looked well worn, but intact.

"I think they'll fit well enough. They were always a little small for me. If that... thing finds you through blood, then I think this will help better than those rags you are wearing." He sat down on the hearth beside Dacey and looked him full in the face. "You frighten me, but you know that. I know there's power in you. She could feel it, and I felt it with her."

Dacey shrugged. He lifted his hand -- he could see the scar where Silver had cut him -- and traced a symbol in the air with his long, thin fingers. The movement startled Silver... but it was only a design. He had no word of power to give it life. He shook his head and leaned back again. Worthless. Useless. How could she fear him?

"Power, and weakness," Silver said. He pushed the boots into Dacey's hands. "You confuse me. I don't know how I am supposed to feel. All my life I have been taught to despise magic, and my encounter with that cursed wood hardly made a case to end that fear. Yet it was Her fear of you that makes me trust you, magic or no. She wanted you dead. Mage, I wish you could speak."

Dacey looked down, feeling his own regret for many reasons. He would have liked to speak with Silver -- just that, to visit with someone who seemed kind. Right now the magic took on a different importance. Dacey had never had a friend, and he would have liked one just now.

"You don't look much like old Gregor."

That drew his startled attention back.

"I saw the mage as they... took him away," Silver said. He must have seen the look in Dacey's face, the horror and fear that came from knowing what had happened to the old man. "But you don't look like him at all. You weren't his son, were you?"

He shook his head. No.

"Related at all?"

No.

"Then how does someone come to be in the service of a magician? Were you homeless and he took you in?"

No.

Silver looked pensive. Dacey held out his hand and drew Silver's attention. He put a hand to his chest, and then held it out a few feet above the ground. He repeated the gesture.

"You, when you were small. A child."

Yes. Both hands pressed to his chest and held out.

"Went? As a small child you went-- no? Taken? Were you taken?"

Dacey touched the boots beside him.

"Given?"

Dacey nodded and made an old sign, two fingers across the palm, a gesture seen a thousand times a day in the market place.

"Given for money?"

He made a sign in the air again.

"Given for magic," Silver said. Dacey nodded, uncertain what he saw in the man's eyes this time. He thought he could see anger that almost overcame the fear. "Who would give... I know. You cannot tell me. Let me pull the chair over and you can rest here for a while. Get some sleep. I'll awaken you before dawn."

Dacey gratefully settled into the chair, his face turned toward the warmth, and closed his eyes. He gave Silver trust -- more trust than Dacey had ever given to any person since he had been a child. It felt strange to find friendship so late in life, and he doubted that there had been very many mages who had ever found it. And without friendship, there could be no trust either. For the first time he understood Gregor, though he still could not forgive him.

He dreamed of Aubreyan. It was not the first time. Aubreyan had power, and a way to save the world. Dacey could not quite grasp it... but he slept well anyway, feeling safe for the first time in years.

When Silver awakened him, he could see a pale gray light through the edge of the window's shutters. Dacey sat up with a start, and stood, intending to rush out the door before it got any later.

"Calmly, Mage. My mother and sister won't have left their friend before first light at best. Here. I've made a pack of food for you. And put those boots on. You'd best keep the cloak as well."

He looked back at Silver, shaking his head, uncertain...

When he left a few minutes later, he took everything but the cloak with him. There was a good chance he might still be caught, and the covering looked too distinctive and easily identified. Silver insisted that he take an old tunic and a worn blanket instead, and Dacey still left, feeling far warmer and better prepared than he had been this time the day before.

He left tracks in the snow, but they were the prints of boots, not a half-human animal. Dacey turned back toward the inner city and the numerous buildings where he could find shelter. He even dared the glances of the few people who had also come out. So long as they kept back he need not fear their iron giving him away, and no one seemed very interested in a lone man out on such a day as this.

The supplies, blanket and boots helped him through the next few days. His night with Silver became a memory of warmth in the colder nights. He survived. The guard became lax in the face of cold and ice. He dared to light well shielded fires, and he huddled by them, staying awake during the night.

She did not seem to seek him either. Winter became a time of rest. He almost began to dread the coming of spring.

Chapter Seven

Prince Tain had never hated the winter as much as he did this year. He sat by the window and watched the snow falling, hiding even the view of the sea from him, though he could still hear the distant crash of waves against the rocks.

Everyone else had begun to show signs of relief. Yes, there had been some activity in the city still, but with the first snowfall, things had calmed. People said the worst had passed, finally -- as though they never expected the spring to come again.

Tain leaned back over the first of a pile of books on his desk. He had become far more blatant in his reading material now that he and his father had already had their public falling out. From that time on he had decided that he would do what he could to end the trouble, and the relationship with his father be damned.

King Tascon still had not admitted to trouble other than the Apprentice. But there had been other things seen in the world --

Djinn. Tain looked at the picture in an ancient book, and shook his head. What could have called such a creature to the world? Surely not the Apprentice...

A knock on the door. He snapped the book closed out of habit, but then stood and crossed the room to the door, which he had taken to latching in the last few weeks. He mistrusted his father's intentions... sad as it was to admit the truth.

Tain suspected his father might find it difficult to coerce someone to do the work, if he wanted his son dead. Tain knew that his father's obsession with the death of the Apprentice, and his inability to deal with anything else had lost him nearly all his supporters.

Another knock as he neared the door.

"Who's there?"

"Your poor, wayward, cold brother," Clarion answered.

Tain gave a short laugh and opened the door, letting Clarion inside. He must have come straight up from the entry hall. Even though he'd shed his cloak, Tain could still see the melting vestiges of snow in his hair.

"Well, the good priest and his people are ensconced in their monastery in the back country," Clarion said. He crossed to the hearth and held his red fingers out to the fire.

"Wiser man than I had expected, to run for cover now and pretend that he went to seek solitude and prayer," Tain said.

Clarion looked at him, shaking his head. "Careful. The people might overlook a disagreement with father, but they are still far too pious to overlook a line like that, even if they believe it true as well."

"You're right. Sorry. I just know the priesthood lit out of the city so that they cannot be asked for aid when trouble strikes again, and therefore can't be held accountable for failing," Tain said. Clarion nodded agreement, even if he wouldn't say it aloud. "I had really rather hoped for some help from them."

"Oh yes, because they've been such help in the past, right? They may have done us a favor, brother. By leaving the city they cannot physically stand between us and anything we need do."

"Ah."

"Right," Clarion said, and nodded, apparently seeing that he had finally gotten through. "You may think that you're standing alone in this battle, but you have subtle help everywhere. Father knows it, and he dares not move against you. So tell me what you've found out."

"Nothing much that will help," Tain said, waving a hand toward his desk. "The more I read, however, the far more convinced I am that the Apprentice is not behind this."

"You have said that, but I don't understand why."

"They spotted the apprentice again yesterday --"

"And he got away again, I assume," Clarion said with a shake of his head. "Are you going to tell me that he does it by luck?"

"No, not luck. Maybe he works with little magics, but mostly he escapes by cunning. But if he had the power to call such a creature as has been seen, then he would not be the one running, would he?"

"Maybe he called it and it got loose of his control," Clarion countered.

"Maybe so. It would still make the djinn more of a danger to us." Tain looked at his brother's face. "But I don't think it's the Apprentice, and the longer we direct all our attention to him, the stronger we allow the other enemy to become."

Clarion still frowned, but he could see a little more understanding in his eyes. They'd all avoided it, through the troubled fall and now into the cold winter. The danger had not disappeared, it only rested.

"Show me your damned books," Clarion said. "Just show them to me and don't argue now. Micah and Zev want access to the knowledge as well, but they will be discreet. As long as father thinks he can trust some of his sons --"

"He can trust us all," Tain said, his voice harder than he had intended. "He can trust us to do what is best, not just what is politic. I understand that he cannot suddenly say that the Apprentice is not our enemy. I never expected that, Clarion. I just... don't understand an obsession that will put everything else in danger."

"Neither do I," Clarion admitted. He looked out the window and shook his head. "I fear the winter will not be long enough, Tain. I don't know why the trouble has eased, but, like you, I know it will come back. So let us study while we can, brother."

They went to the desk. Clarion pulled another chair over, and he didn't even flinch when Tain sat the first book before them and opened it.

Chapter Eight

It had not been an easy winter, but Dacey survived it. He didn't know why he didn't throw himself on the sea rocks, or stand out in the streets until he froze to death. He held on through the storms, alone in the world. Aubreyan, he silently told himself... but the man began to fade from memory. Dacey tried to hold on to it, but the long nights grew colder, and even the memory of Silver's kindness could not keep him warm forever.

But he held on...

Now he faced a bright white, and bitterly cold, day. Midwinter could only be a few days away, and the worst weather still lay ahead of him. Dacey laid atop the temple roof and let the pure rays of sunlight warm him as best it could. Strange that he should feel so safe here in the domain of the priests, but they likely thought the temple too sacred for a mage to touch. They should have been more careful, and lined the roof edge with metal, just like many of the other buildings.

He slept here in the early afternoons almost every day, curled close to the chimney where the warmth of sacrificial fires penetrated beyond the snow. Although damp sometimes, the snow melted away from the area around the bricks, and with his blanket pulled over him, he could relax, far from the view of anyone else.

But this time he awoke with a strange unease that made him sit up and look quickly around. He found no sign that anyone had spotted him. Nothing seemed out of place.

A breeze blew through his hair... and the talisman pulsed faintly.

Dacey quickly gathered his belongings together, wrapped his blanket around his shoulders, and looked quickly around the roof, wondering if he would dare climb down in the full light of day.

The wind blew with a sudden gust that nearly made him slip, and the talisman burned against his neck. Thick, cotton topped clouds -- summer clouds, not the flat winter ones -- rolled across the sun, sending people screaming in the street below. They could tell that the storm came with unnatural speed, even if they couldn't sense the magic in it. Dacey stood, reaching toward the magic, trying to understand what happened.

Magic. Pure. He could feel no evil as he lifted his hand into the wind that warmed like no fire could...

"The Apprentice! Calling magic! Defiling the temple!"

Gods. He looked down at the people below. Of course they would run to the temple in the face of this madness. He only now realized how he must look -- standing there in full view on the roof and reaching for that which they feared most.

They'd bring the guard down on him fairly fast if he didn't move out of the area quickly. Ill luck that whatever brought this show of magic would intensify the search for him. He wondered what the magic meant, and only hoped the storm this magic brought did not cause him even more trouble.

He headed toward the edge of the roof and started to slide down to the ledge a floor below when the wind blew with new power, enveloping him in magic so strong it warmed more than the wind had. He grabbed hold of the roof edge and looked back. Bright light lit the sky over the shore. The clouds swirled with eddies of wind and magic, each pulsing with a different warmth.

Gods, that looked odd, and he knew it would draw him to the shore. Probably a safe place anyway, since -- as he could see now -- almost everyone else ran away from the sight. He wondered if it would give him a hope in this blighted, dark world.

Dacey slipped off the roof to the next floor, aware of the shouts below, the cries of despair, fear and anger. He dared not be caught in this madness. He scurried around the edge of the second floor precipice, having gotten good at keeping his balance on the narrow outcropping of stone that protected the windows below it. People had rushed into the temple and for the moment the alley below looked deserted. He swung down to the next floor's outcropping of window covering, and then dropped into the alley.

The wind blew and he felt the talisman warm against his chest this time. Perhaps the People of the Night were making some bid to stand in the world of men again. He would certainly join in league with them. He would fight at Phaedra's side.

People, huddling in doorways, saw him run past, but no one tried to stop him. He ran all the way, even when his lungs began to burn with the cold and lack of air. He had never felt such pure powerful magic in all his life and he wanted to touch it, even if it burnt him. He didn't hope that it would help him speak since nothing controlled this magic. It only existed.

Dacey stumbled past the last row of buildings and reached the wide processional before the palace. As he ran straight toward the sea, the wind moved in waves around him, stinging his face with snow and sand.

He stumbled to a stop as a bright, rotating circle of light touched the ground ahead of him. Though the wind moved in a whirlpool of sand, dirt, and snow around it, within that light he could see calm. For a moment it seemed as though the two figures within the light stood somewhere else, on different sand and in a dark night.

The magic faded, but the two entities still remained in this place. The taller held a staff... and staff smiled and hummed a song. Gods. Dacey nearly went to his knees before it. He also wore a sword that seemed so bright with magic that it might glow. The other man looked smaller, darker... different, but it was hard to see within the shell of power that enveloped them, even after the light from the clouds faded. He had never seen so much magic in his life. Even the People of the Night had not held so much power.

And it frightened him. They faced each other, Dacey looking into the weary face of the young man who held both golden sword and magic staff.

The ground trembled.

Dacey understood. Aubreyan had arrived.

Part 2: The Allies

Chapter One

Abby had wanted to stay with Etric and Crystal and travel with them to other worlds. He wanted to stay with friends a while longer, and not always to be... going somewhere else.

The world had changed around them. He knew Tristan kept watch for the enemy, determined that they would not be attacked while on the journey this time. Tristan had seen no sign of demons. The world just changed; a swirl of sand that changed to white.

He felt very weak and held tight to the Janin against the fear of falling.

Cold.

Abby shivered and felt a sudden swelling of dismay that was not entirely his own. He glanced at Tristan in time to see the elf pull his own tunic closer around him. Behind them stood a cliff falling away to a gray and white world, the edge so close that he could see down to the rocks and beating of waves below. Nowhere to retreat.

"What have we done now?" Abby whispered, dismayed as he looked out onto the snow covered world. One building stood nearby, and Tristan even sensed a ward around it. There might be safety in such a place...

And then Abby saw the man for the first time, his clothing tattered, his hair long and ragged -- his eyes wild. He stood unmoving, as though frozen in the snow. Behind the stranger he saw a mass of more buildings, a city that looked somehow colder and more forbidding than this freezing spot beside the sea cliff.

"Abby, I think something is very wrong here," Tristan said. The stranger looked toward the elf with the usual incomprehension in his face. "Look at the snow. It's trampled. There were many people here, and they all fled except for him... and doesn't he look as though he's run to get here? Where did all the others go?"

"Perhaps he's either very brave or not entirely sane. Tristan, it may be that the others just didn't like us... dropping in."

"You seem to find your sense of humor at the oddest times," Tristan accused. "Someone else is coming now, Abby. I hate not knowing what's going on."

Abby agreed and turned to look past the stranger to the wider street behind him. He could hear approaching people, the steady beat of men who marched rather than ran. Abby found no reason to relax, especially since the only person here to greet them suddenly looked worried, if not afraid. He came nearer, casting anxious looks back over his shoulder.

The soldiers appeared amid a glitter of swords and shields. They shouted, and no one sounded friendly.

"I don't know what's going on here," Tristan unnecessarily said. "I don't sense any magic in them, and very little from the other man. But from the fear on his face and the anger in their voices, I suspect we have dropped right into some little battle."

"I don't like the odds," Abby replied. He glared back at the soldiers, who had slowed and stopped, not daring to come nearer. The young man began to back away from the soldiers, stonily silent in the face of shouts and inexplicable rage. The stranger looked to them as though he expected help.

Why not? He didn't know what might have happened here, but justice could be delayed while he attempted to sort out the situation as best he could.

As the stranger drew nearer, so did some of the soldiers, darting forward as though to catch him before he got within Abby's reach.

Abby brought the Janin around to parry any attack. Why not? She had to be good for more than a bit of music. The men backed away, such dread in their faces that Abby found it very troubling.

"They have no magic." Tristan lifted his hand, confirming what he had felt earlier. "None at all."

"He does," Abby said, nodding to the stranger who stood with a slightly glowing stone in his hand.

"And he's not with them. They have no magic. Not a hint of it anywhere near except in the ward on that building, and a touch of it on this one. I suspect that we are not welcome here for that reason."

Abby looked again at the soldiers and then back to the single man. Even this one who carried a little magic seemed quite awed and afraid of the Janin. Tristan was right -- this place had no obvious magic, despite the feel of power in the air, and that glowing stone the young man held in his hand.

"Tristan what are we going to do?"

"I don't want to fight," Tristan said, but he drew his dagger nonetheless. "But I think some show of force might help."

He stepped past Abby and nodded to the silent young man who glanced at the dagger and backed away in another direction.

"We won't hurt you," Abby said, as he drew his sword as well.

A strange look crossed the young man's face as he looked from the slightly glowing sword to Abby's face again. Abby saw confusion as he took another step away.

The soldiers grew agitated, and some began to move forward. The Janin sang more loudly and Abby almost tried to still her outburst, but the soldiers backed away in haste, looking quite frightened. She might be the best hope they had to avoid an outright battle.

True, Abby. Tristan thought. He had held back on his own magic for a moment. I must be very tired not to have thought of that. She is magic come to life, and from what little they have of magic, they have nothing like her.

Abby had not been paying much attention to the Janin. She sang, and the light around her grew until it flashed out across the open ground, turning snow to plumes of steam. Frightened, frantic men ran back to cover at the edge of the buildings.

Except for the first man they had seen, who came straight at them, hands gesturing that they should follow, and quickly.

"He can't speak," Tristan said. He closed his eyes and tilted his head. "I think he is our friend."

"Then let's go with him," Abby said. "We can't wait here. The others are not friendly."

"Things seem to get worse and worse with each world," Tristan said. He gestured to the young man to lead them.

He looked anxious to be away. Abby hardly felt up to this sort of game already, but if they did not follow this one, they would have to wait for the soldiers to come back. That did not seem wise.

Their friend led them off to the right, toward a bridge and down across the frozen stream, and then straight into the labyrinth of the city. They moved quickly through alleys and over walls -- he seemed to know how to hide from the soldiers very well. Abby only wondered why he shied away from them when they came too near. Abby felt lost in all of it, and so did Tristan. This was a new kind of madness, and he wasn't ready for it.

Chapter Two

For the first time in his thirty-two years, Tain had actually seen magic, and it left him shivering in the warmth of his room, watching out in the world where, at least for a few moments, spring had come.

And he shivered again.

For the first time he truly feared the power that could bring spring to winter, and strangers from nowhere to stand upon the cliff.

When the call went up throughout the building, and he heard the bell ringing to draw the soldiers to the courtyard, Tain grabbed his sword and his cloak and went with them, ready to do whatever needed to be done.

And this time, when his father yelled for the death of the Apprentice, he didn't argue. Clarion looked at him, started to speak -- but Tain shook his head. He had seen the Apprentice out there with the others, and they had joined forces. They had to stop them. They had to...

It wasn't until sunset, standing in the shadowed street, that he began to think about what he had really seen.

"Oh hell," he whispered.

Clarion, still walking beside him, looked at Tain with a start. He wasn't certain he'd spoken at all in the last few hours. Or, if he had, that it had made any sense.

"Tain?" Clarion said.

Tain looked to where the soldiers scurried through the ruins of another building. The night felt too cold, and he shivered again and sought the shelter of a wall, out of the wind.

"Tain?" Clarion said again.

"I saw it happen. I saw the strangers arrive. It scared the hell out of me."

"You saw it?" Clarion said, his eyes gone wide.

"I heard the wind, and then the cries. I went to the window and looked out and saw -- Clarion, it scared the hell out of me. I think I could feel the magic in the air, and I knew it wasn't right."

Clarion nodded. He had his dagger in hand still, and looked around as though he feared that the magic would attack them even now. "Father didn't see, but I think he felt it as well. We have to stop them, Tain. We have to stop them this time --"

"The Apprentice didn't bring them," Tain said.

Clarion looked at him and shook his head this time. "Everyone saw --"

"Saw the apprentice on the shore with the strangers. But I saw them arrive, Clarion. It scared the hell out of me, but I know what I saw. The apprentice came at a run, not only surprised but -- they carried weapons. He couldn't go near them. And I don't think they understood."

"Why the hell would they arrive if not because of the Apprentice?"

"Because we have other problems," Tain said. "Hell. I shouldn't have panicked like that. We... we might need these people, Clarion."

"Shush. Quiet." Clarion looked around with a start, but Tain hadn't been that careless. "This is not the time to say anything like that. Everyone is running scared."

"But if I don't say it now, we may never get another chance."

"It's not going to do you any good if the guard turns on you and kills you. And they would right now, I fear. I've never seen so many frightened people," Clarion said. He looked around again. "Be careful, that's all."

"What if they are caught?" Tain said.

"For now, let's just hope that doesn't happen. Let's hope that they are quick, cunning, and smart."

"And that they can run damned fast," Tain said. "Let's get back to the palace and leave this to the soldiers."

"They won't have any one in charge," Clarion said. Then he looked back and nodded. "Right. Let them wander around without direction for a little while. And then we'll call them back. Tain... if you aren't right --"

"I know. And I fear all the mistakes I can make, but I have done my best to make certain I'm educated in all ways that I can, given the circumstances. Clarion, this isn't going to be easy. Right or wrong... we might well not survive."

"I know. But doing anything at all is far better than father's approach," he said. He put a hand on Tain's shoulder. "Come on brother. Let's get back to somewhere safe and warm."

"Safe?"

Clarion looked at him and nodded. "I know. But I maintain my delusions about the palace. Come. We've more reading to do, I think."

Chapter Three

Dacey led the two strangers through the alleys and streets of his city. They hid in the ruins whenever they could while the guards did the double job of searching them out and calming the frightened citizens. The near riot was all that really saved them.

The cry had gone up everywhere to find and kill the mage. Well, at least they no longer thought him only an Apprentice, even if for the wrong reasons.

He glanced often at his new companions and wondered how, in the name of all man's Gods, he could keep them safe for very long. They glowed with magic, and that staff -- beautiful though she was -- would not stop singing. Dacey wondered how they expected to live for very long if they could not hide the power they held.

It seemed as though they didn't know any better.

They had come from a far place. Dacey hadn't expected that they wouldn't speak the same language. He'd heard tales of places so far beyond the shores of Green Island that the people couldn't understand each other, but Dacey had never dealt with them. Dacey couldn't even begin to teach them language. He couldn't, in fact, bear to be near them.

That bothered him as well. How could they carry so much metal and posses magic -- and feel no pain? They were blatantly unaware of the reason Dacey backed away whenever they came too close. They even wore metal bands around their heads and set with stones of magic. The contradictions made him uneasy in the face of those who could truly be his allies, but not so much so that he would abandon them. Perhaps one of them held such magic that they might even free him of the curse Gregor had left behind.

Unfortunately, he couldn't come up with a way to tell them about the curse, either.

The dark haired one came toward him again, his hand outstretched in a simple gesture of friendship. Dacey stayed his place as long as he could bear the metal, and even allowed the man to touch his arm -- but the dagger and the crown burnt into him, and he jerked away, gasping for breath and holding his hands out as though to protect himself from fire. The two spoke softly, a sound of music. Dacey wanted to understand.

He also began to realize that they were quite as confused as him. He really hadn't expected the aid SHE feared so badly to be nearly as inept as he was.... No, not inept. He'd never seen such power before, that melded magic and iron. That they could hold both at the same time proved that they had power.

He wanted to understand. He didn't know how to reach them. It proved to be a very long afternoon, but as the sun set, he knew where he would have to take them. Silver would likely be as confused as him, but he might find some way to deal with them.

When he looked back at the two, sitting in the dark shadows beneath an outdoor stairwell, he could see dark eyes and green eyes intently staring at him. He thought he could see the same emotions in both, and wondered why they stayed so quiet sometimes, though he appreciated it. The sound of the staff -- Janin, he thought they called her -- proved disconcerting and dangerous enough.

Aubreyan -- he had heard the other one use that name, and knew it had to be him now -- crawled toward him, but Dacey couldn't bear it. He backed away, and held out his hands in a gesture that stopped the man again.

Then he put his hand on the crown and carefully lifted it from his hair. He and his friend shivered as though the breeze had turned even cooler. He held the crown out to Dacey with a look of both loss and hope in his eyes.

Magic. He thought it might, somehow, help. Dacey tried. He reached his hand out, daring the blaze of pain that spread up his arm. He even laid his fingers upon the gold.

The other one -- Tristan -- how had he known that name, suddenly? -- cried out, pulling his arm to his chest. Aubreyan quickly pulled the crown back and slipped it back on his head, though he winced, as if at remembered pain.

Link? Oh how he wished he could have borne that pain for a while, and gained at least something for it. As it was, none of them looked any better for the incident.

Dacey stumbled back to his feet. At least they'd gotten the idea that he couldn't stand to have them too near. When he signaled them to follow, they did so silently, even though the staff still hummed. Dacey had stopped giving it looks of despair when it became apparent even Aubreyan could not stop her.

The gray light between day and night hid many moving shadows, and Dacey watched, far more worried than he had ever been before. The guard still anxiously searched the city, and the townspeople were more surely rushing home to close and lock their doors tonight.

Silver had returned to night guard duty again. Dacey had seen his post, though he'd never dared to go too near lest he give his friend away. They had built eight little buildings around the outer walls of the palace and staffed them with a single guard. They were within shouting range of each other, but not -- at least in the dark of night -- within sight. And tonight, with the storm wind still howling up over the cliff, even a shout might go unheard.

Dacey led the two strangers down to the area by the outpost and signaled them to stay quiet. Quite a few men were gathered by the post still, and he couldn't even discern Silver from the mass. The other guards grumbled, cursed and occasionally shouted, which kept them safe for the moment. The staff had very little sense of danger, Dacey thought. It did nothing for his belief that they would be safe in the future.

The guard began to disperse and Dacey signaled the others to stay flat and silent. They obliged and Aubreyan held the staff tight against him, silencing her as best he could. He didn't look happy either.

The soldiers moved away until Dacey could only hear the sound of the waves and the more distant voices from within the palace grounds behind Silver's post. The guards would be patrolling the city tonight. He hoped that none of the groups came back this way.

Dacey glanced one last time toward the gate to make certain that no one stood there, looking out. He thought about leaving the two here for a moment, but decided he didn't like being parted from the only hope he might have, even for that long. Instead he mimed that they should follow, and they did so without question and quietly. He suspected, suddenly, that they had some practice at this as well.

He took a circular route to the guard post, afraid that the person in the helmet and cloak might not be Silver tonight. The guard paced uneasily, nervous. He took a chance, signaling the two to stay put for a moment as he hurried forward. He could still feel the warmth of their magic, could almost see it glowing behind him. They would be found soon. He had no choice.

Snow crunched beneath his feet, and the guard leapt out, sword drawn and moving toward him -- a blur of light and fire that burnt his heart. He could not see in that moment, but he heard the sound of his new companions rushing to his aid, the staff singing.

The two swords clashed over him, and Dacey lifted his hands, trying to wave them away for all the good that would do him.

"Mage?" Praise the gods, Silver after all. Dacey reached toward him, nearly blind and senseless by the nearness of so much metal. His legs wouldn't hold him, and with his hand going to his chest, his heart laboring too hard, he dropped into the snow.

"No!" Silver threw aside his sword and started to kneel, then quickly removed his helmet, armor and dagger. When he dropped down on his knees, Abby followed suspiciously, coming much too near. Dacey found he could hardly breathe again.

"Get that away, you fool!" Silver shouted and knocked the sword away, cutting his hand on the edge. Dacey hardly noticed. Abby backed away, and Silver gently lifted Dacey from the snow and held him, a feeling of warmth that came from more than just contact. For the briefest moment he felt safe.

Chapter Four

When the soldier knocked his sword away, Abby at last understood.

"The metal!" He tossed his sword aside just as the soldier had done. "The metal hurt him, Tristan! Not the magic or anything else."

Abby felt Tristan's sudden understanding mixed with remorse. They'd both been blind not to realize before now.

The soldier helped the young man sit up and watched them with eyes that mixed fear and worry. The soldier spoke softly in his own language, the other nodding now and then. Abby couldn't imagine how difficult this inability to speak with each other must be, and now that he and Tristan had entered the picture, it could only be worse.

The soldier rose to his feet, helping his outcast friend up as well. They both faced Abby and Tristan with a look of resolve that Abby found unnerving -- as though they faced something that might destroy them with a wish.

The soldier spoke a few words but Abby shook his head, not understanding any of them. Tristan tried a few words in different languages that they had acquired, including the one from their youth... from their home. It saddened Abby to realize that the words sounded alien now.

The soldier had understood nothing, of course. They would have to resort to the crown -- a difficult way to learn a language, with the words and pictures, beliefs and fears burning through too fast, overlaying echoes of other languages. Sometimes the emotions felt too strong, and looking at the soldier and his friend, Abby thought perhaps these emotions might be difficult to deal with.

The soldier stepped closer, raising his hand toward the Janin, though he didn't even try to touch her. He looked at the two men with the same mixture of wonder and worry that he had seen from his companion.

"Aubreyan?" he whispered.

Abby stepped back, stunned to hear his name from this stranger on an unknown world.

"Abby?" Tristan whispered, overcoming his own surprise.

"Abby?" the soldier replied, and looked worried now.

"Aubreyan," Abby said. He put a hand to his chest. "I am Aubreyan Altazar. How do you know my name? Gods, we need to speak."

"Careful, Abby," Tristan warned, a little panic whispering through him at Abby's choice of words.

The soldier looked at him, still not comprehending, though he must have realized that Abby was Aubreyan. And what did that mean to this man? Why did he see such wonder and hope in the man's eyes?

"Abby, we must move quickly." Tristan looked nervously around the area. The silent one did much the same. "It must be your crown or mine -- and at least now we know why he couldn't touch it."

"Metal," Abby said and nodded. He stepped back to recover the sword, Gods Honor, where he had dropped it in the snow. He did not to bring it closer to the man. "I think it must be my crown, and your work, Tristan. I can stand guard with the Janin in case we have unwanted visitors. I should be in control to know if she's needed."

"You are very wise, my prince," Abby said and bowed with a hint of humor in his voice as well as his mind.

"Do you think we can forego that this once?" Abby asked, but with little hope. "We're so far from home that it can't really mean anything here, Prince Tristan."

Tristan winced, as though he had forgotten the word could as easily apply to him. Abby grinned before he carefully lifted the crown from his head, fighting back the surge of loss and loneliness. His fingers held tighter to the crown, unwilling to let it go.

"I'm still here," Tristan whispered, though Abby could barely feel the touch through his fingers. "Just be quick. We've no time --"

Abby held the crown out to the soldier. He looked worried, but Abby smiled encouragement, and hoped he did not look too worried. He knew that Tristan had better control than he'd had the first time they used the crown to link, and that this man was in little danger. The other one looked up from his place in the snow and nodded silent encouragement, and only then did he take the crown. He must have felt some tingle of contact. He looked up, surprised and worried.

Abby stepped back to Tristan and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. He looked back at the soldier, and touched the crown on Tristan's head -- the touch surprised his friend. He couldn't get used to that. But the soldier understood.

They played a dangerous game, the merging of minds for a moment, and losing each other in other worlds. However, after so long, Tristan knew the crowns and could easily draw out only what they needed from this stranger. Abby knew that language had become relatively simple for them after so many different worlds. Words and their meanings were all that Abby and Tristan needed.

Abby watched the stranger as much as he did Tristan. The man hadn't known what to expect, but the instant of terror passed quickly to open wonder. The other one who still sat in the snow, gasping less now, stood shakily and even put a hand on his companion's arm.

Tristan bowed his head, raising fingers to his temples. At some unspoken command, the soldier took the crown from his head and handed it back to Abby, who could see wonder in his eyes, and silence born of surprise. Abby took the crown and placed it back over his hair. He could feel the touch of the other one there, but Tristan quickly overpowered that feeling, and filled Abby's head with a cacophony of sounds and meanings, words and understandings. Abby closed his eyes and ignored the cold as he tried to understand as much as he could.

"You are Silver," Abby said looking at him.

"Yes," Silver answered, surprised. He backed up a step, though his companion looked quite pleased.

"He has a fear of magic, Abby," Tristan said. "Deep rooted. He was very brave to take the crown. I think that our work here will not be easy, though. They do not like magic at all."

"But you do know about me," Abby said.

"You have been sent to save my world, to work with the mage to help destroy Her."

"The Mage?"

"My friend here. He was the apprentice to Gregor the last Mage. They executed him some months ago."

"Executed," Abby said. "For magic. Wonderful."

"He can't speak," Tristan said. "And without his voice, he can't do his magic, can he?"

"No, but she feared him, nonetheless."

"She," Abby said, but he already knew. The feel and fear of her had been very strong in Silver's mind and carried over even after Tristan had filtered most of the worst out.

"She looked like a piece of carved wood," Silver said. He glanced nervously around, losing his wonder for worry again. "But she held me. She wanted me to kill him, but he got her away from me, and then I got her away from him. We tried to burn it... but something else came."

He stopped and looked around, far too nervous again. The mage looked just as worried, and that didn't help. Abby felt lost in this. He couldn't begin to see what they might do, or how. And he was so damned weary right now. He wanted to go back...

"Forgive me," Silver said. "We've always been taught that magic is evil, and if we are caught here, we'll all be killed."

"Ah," Tristan said. He nodded. "Where can we go?"

"He lives in the ruins, wherever he can hide," Silver said. Abby could see regret in his face this time. "Midnight is coming soon. Not even the guard will be out then, and we'll be safe for a few hours. Safe from men, at least. There are other things that walk the streets when the moons are over head. You'd be best off to take cover, too."

"You live in a very strange world, Silver," Abby said. He glanced at the sky, hoping for midnight and a little rest. "I think Tristan and I are going to have a more difficult time on this world than on any of the others, though I am grateful that at least this one has magic and moons."

"Others?" Silver said. He tilted his head and the Mage mirrored the movement, obviously curious. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"We've come for the piece of the Kiya."

"The Kiya is that wood? She gave no name."

"The Kiya Chanda Andee is a very powerful and evil staff. She was cut into pieces and flung out into the void," Tristan explained. He stopped from saying more. "Now it's our job to recover those pieces and destroy her completely. This is the fourth piece we've sought."

"But as far as I know, this is the first time she's spoken of me by name," Abby said. He felt a sudden surge of worry. "Why should this piece be so much more intelligent?"

"When we get her, we'll ask," Tristan said. "Perhaps we had better get to cover now."

"Can you take them to the ruins where I found you when the first snows fell?" Silver asked his friend. "I'll join you there after midnight. We'll discuss things more freely then."

The mage nodded and began to walk away, Abby and Tristan following. Then Abby looked back at Silver he had begun to obscure the tracks in the snow as best he could.

Tristan raised his hand and whispered words -- the snow swirled around Silver and settled again in an unbroken pattern of white.

Silver turned to them, standing still for a moment, and Abby could see that he fought his own fears before he bowed his thanks.

The Mage smiled brightly and turned away. He would accept their magic, at least, and if all they had learned was true, he would be a good ally to have. The Kiya feared him.

Interlude in Hell

Tabor heard his name called. He growled and considered ignoring the call and fighting the compulsion that came with it. He might have won, this time. He could feel the weakness in the power that summoned him -- but he knew that would only make things worse, and he had delicate enough work to do without fighting with his father and his father's minions.

Tabor shut down his work with a slam of the book and wave of his hand to dispel the seeker he had just set in motion. It would take him another full day to recreate the work, but no matter. When the Great Lord Gix called, he had only to obey.

Fool.

But he wondered if he meant that for himself or for his illustrious father, who insisted he do the work, and then invariably interfered at the wrong time.

Tabor calmed his face, at least, before he left his quarters. Oh, there were spies outside in the halls -- spies for his father as well as spies for Braith, who had won his way back into Gix's graces by being oh so subservient and slimy.

But it didn't matter much. Tabor had done the one thing that Braith could not. He had already brought Gix two pieces of the Kiya. Tabor had thought to keep them hidden, but the second piece he had acquired had been the head, and she had called to the demon as soon as she realized where he had brought her.

Gix had been happy enough with the gift, at least. And Braith had skulked and glowered for days. Unfortunately, Gix had a short memory when it came to wins. He liked to remember the defeats far longer, and he liked to plague his son with demands for the rest of the staff.

He went up to the tower, past the glowering Renage who, with a bow of his head and by far the friendliest person in this place, opened the door.

The summons led Tabor not up to the high room where he most often met with his father. This time Gix sat in his throne room, a dark fetid place that stank of fear and death. Braith stood beside him, a true show that they were in league again. If Braith thought that would bother Tabor, he hadn't been paying attention. Tabor had thrown the two of them together. They entertained each other well.

"Father," he said, with a bow of his head, but little more. Not quite equals, the bow said.

Gix lifted his head and glowered, eyes flashing with red, his inhuman face set in anger -- but that was the only emotion Tabor had ever seen, so it didn't particularly worry him. He did feel unexpectedly grateful that he didn't look much like his father, though.

"The Godling has reached another world," Gix said, his voice thunderous in the room.

Ah. That explained it. Tabor schooled his face to calm rather than disgust at the interruption. "Did we expect him not to go on?"

"He'll have another piece of the Kiya!" he growled leaning forward.

"And I have already gotten you two before he even finds this one, including the precious head," Tabor replied. He had tried to school his anger, but he gave up this time. Subtlety was lost on this...creature. "I am about to follow the path to another piece. That will be three we shall have before he even gets this one -- and I have seen where he goes, father. This piece will give him trouble, will keep him busy for some time. I can use that time for better things."

"We should be there. We should fight him," Braith said.

"By all means, go and fight him," Tabor replied, looking at the pale slug of a former man. They despised each other. "How many pieces of the Kiya has that gotten you so far?"

Braith hissed and magic almost came to him before Gix lifted a hand, ending that duel before it began. Tabor almost wished he hadn't, because he thought he could take Braith just then.

Perhaps his father saw it.

"Shall I stand here and worry while Abby fights to find his piece, or shall I go and retrieve the ones that come so willingly into our hands?"

Gix's head came up. It was hard to tell which way this meeting would go. One could never guess the moods of the demon, and what might appeal to him. One could only do what seemed wise.

"Do not fail me, Tabor."

"I have not," Tabor said and purposely looked at Braith. "I have retrieved every piece that I have reached for, which is more than Braith has ever done. Shall you put him back in charge now?"

"Go," Gix said. "Go and get me these pieces."

He bowed his head and left. Oh, but he listened still, mostly with the little flicker of a spell he left behind. So much magic in this place -- neither Gix nor Braith noticed a little more.

"I do not trust the bastard," Braith said, his voice a hiss of anger. "It is too human, my lord."

"You are human."

"No longer. Not in a long time."

Gix murmured agreement. That Gix agreed with anything was never a good sign.

"I have a plan, my Lord Master Gix," Braith said. "I have a plan by which we will defeat the Godling. That, as well as getting the pieces of the Kiya it already has acquired. We shall need one other, but I think we dare not trust your son in this."

"Trust? Have I ever trusted?"

"No, sire. Never."

"Then tell me this plan, Braith. Tell me your plan."

"I have watched Tabor in his work. I have looked elsewhere as he picked up his little pieces of the Kiya. I know a path that he as not yet seen. We can set a trap there, my lord demon king. We can set a trap to ensnare the godling, and bring him at last to where he belongs, a slave at your feet."

Tabor's breath caught. He had almost gone beyond the reach of his little spell. He thought to turn back, to deal with the two... but then he thought better of it. Let them keep each other company. He could watch, discreetly, and if they did by chance find some answer, he would do... something. The last thing he wanted -- the last thing he would survive -- would be for Braith to do something right.

But for now, he could leave them to their machinations. It gave him more time for his own work. He knew that the demon and his sycophant could be dangerous, but all he had to do was move faster then they did... and in truth that had never been a problem before.

But that... that was not a good attitude to have. Tabor felt the hair on his arms start to rise at the thought of the two of them -- and some other he did not know -- upsetting his plans.

He reached his room, stopped to look down the hall, where something dark and shadowy drifted back toward the wall, though not before Tabor knew he had been watched. He smirked at it, though that was hardly the mood he felt.

What did Braith plan this time? Dare he make a spell to watch in on what they were doing as Braith obviously had with him? Did he have the power to waste for that kind of game?

Maybe. But he did not have the time. Best, he thought, to go back to work on finding this piece of the Kiya quickly, and then find out what they were doing.

He sat back down with his book, and turned the old, ragged-edged pages slowly, savoring the feel of power. Braith had berated him for needing a book to help with his work. But Tabor had been wise enough to know that power should never be turned aside for pride. The book, written by Braith's predecessor a thousand years before, gave him answers.

He found the spell again and sat back, seeking a moment's calm. Another piece -- soon he would have another one.

And the question then became one of... movement. Would the pieces that he held draw the Godling to this place as the others had drawn him to other worlds?

Could he be the one to deliver Aubreyan over to his father, simply and without fuss?

He looked back at the book, trying to regain composure, trying to reach for power again. Let Gix and Braith play their games. It was all they understood. Tabor had far more devious plans in mind.

And Braith would not be around long to enjoy them...

Chapter Five

The streets swarmed with guards, most of them too nervous and too afraid to seriously look for Dacey and his companions. Dacey took some relief from that, despite the shouts and the tramping of boots.

And that staff would not stop singing.

When Dacey looked at it again, Aubreyan pounded her against the ground and whispered harsh words in the language Dacey didn't understand. The intent seemed clear, though Dacey winced, drawing a surprising smile from Tristan.

"She's a good ally," Tristan whispered. "A very powerful staff, made to equal the Kiya. But she is, alas, insane. We can't shut her up. The best we can do is get her to hum. At least she has a nice voice."

That Tristan found it funny finally brought a smile to Dacey, and even Abby looked amused, though he usually didn't seem to find her very humorous.

"And you should know that she'll only allow Abby to touch her. Don't try to pick her up. She bites... and stings. She can be quite dangerous."

Dacey nodded understanding, and then glanced back out of their little hiding place again. A patrol passed near by, but Tristan had obscured their path into the ruins, and the men didn't look beyond the unbroken snow. Dacey appreciated that his friends knew how to hide, and had the magic to protect themselves.

When the guard went past, Dacey leaned against the hard stone and relaxed again. He reached into his pouch and pulled out his measly supplies, but the others had supplies that were better than his, and they were not slow to share. He hadn't eaten this well in quite a while. It helped, he thought. He needed strength to go on with this madness.

"I wonder how long have you been living like this, friend?" Abby suddenly said, looking around at the ruins with a shake of his head. Dacey felt a wave of embarrassment, even though he knew there was no condemnation in the words. "You must be very cunning to hide so well from such a persistent enemy."

"Since the other mage died?" Tristan asked, handing him another piece of sweet bread. "I caught from Silver... months ago?"

"Tristan, is there a spell on him? Is that why he can't speak?" Abby asked, and looked upset at the thought.

"I think so."

"Why?"

"Fear. Jealousy," Tristan said. He had a good grasp of what the world must be like. "Silver said he was an apprentice to the last mage, and I suspect he was the man who put the spell on him. Is that right?"

Dacey nodded, and tried very hard not to hope.

"I like humans less and less sometimes,” Abby said. "Or some of them, at least. Ah, but some have been true friends, haven't they?"

"Some I shall truly miss for a long time," Tristan agreed.

Dacey sat and listened -- a new experience for him, to sit while others talked around him, and to be included in the group. There had only been him and Gregor, and the old mage had never been much of a conversationalist, even if it would have been only one-sided.

"Nearly midnight. The guard goes in now," Tristan said.

Dacey nodded again.

"Well, at least we'll have a bit of freedom now," Abby said. "The Kiya is near, isn't she?"

Dacey shrugged and touched the ground, but he didn't think they understood. She was always near, but even if he had a voice, he couldn't have told them exactly where.

"Tristan, is there anything we can do to remove the spell?" Abby asked. "I wish he could speak."

"It is man's magic," Tristan said, an echo of words from someone else, so long ago.

Phaedra. He looked toward the moons and wondered if he walked to the shore tonight, would he find her? Would they dance and sing in the pale light?

"Friend?" Tristan whispered, leaning close enough to draw his attention. "Are you all right?"

Dacey nodded and watched with a growing joy as Tristan wove a simple spell that brought a warm burning fire to the air and hovered there without fuel. Dacey warmed his hands near it and found himself looking across the fire to Abby, the one whom she -- the Kiya -- had feared so much. He looked young -- younger than himself, Dacey decided. And Weary. Way-worn seemed a good term; he had the look of someone who had traveled a long, long ways. Journeying from world-to-world wasn't a concept Dacey could easily comprehend, but he could see the results in Abby's eyes. The boy looked tired with the kind of fatigue that made Abby seem very old.

Tristan looked different. He seemed ageless, as young as his companion, and yet old in a different way. He seemed brighter, more easily touched -- more willingly accessible, while Dacey saw something forbidding in Abby's green eyes.

"I wonder what you see in us," Abby suddenly said, and Dacey realized he had been staring. "Will Silver be here soon?"

He nodded, hastily looking away.

"Friend, we'll do our best to give you back your voice," Abby promised. The words sent a little shiver up his arm, as though the promise alone had power all of its own. "I need you as an ally, especially since you know magic. Perhaps you can even teach some to me. Tristan has only Elf magic, which isn't possible for a human to understand or hold. I have often thought it would be a great help if I knew magic as well."

Abby stopped when Dacey looked up, startled by what he had said. No magic? Then how could he possibly fight the Kiya?

"He must not have realized you had no magic of your own, Abby," Tristan said and gave Dacey another bright smile. "My friend's powers lie in another realm."

"Yes," Abby agreed. "That of having powerful friends."

"And relatives," Tristan added and smiled again.

"Not of my own choice," Abby said. Abby looked up at the stars and almost smiled, but Tristan just closed his eyes. Odd, these two. Dacey couldn't quite decide if he should consider them as friends, or sit here in awe of them.

Tristan opened his eyes again, but he only looked at the fire. "Someone comes."

Dacey listened a moment, but he did not hear the sound of music. He could have wished for the People of the Night just now, but Silver was still welcome as well. Dacey moved out to meet his friend. Silver had already shed all his metal. He slipped into their little refuge from the cold, and then stopped, startled by the sight of the magical flames. He had even backed up a step before Dacey caught his arm in a friendly grip and led him forward.

"It is only for warmth, Silver," Tristan reassured him.

"And it is nice," Silver reluctantly admitted, letting his finger lift toward the light. "It isn't easy for me, though. Magic is not acceptable here."

"How did you ever fall in with a mage then?" Abby asked.

"I came to kill him," Silver said, and shivered. "And not for the usual blind fears of my people. She led me to him. She feared him nearly as much as she feared your coming, Aubreyan."

"Abby, please," he said. "Aubreyan is much too formal."

"Abby," Silver said. He leaned against the wall, looking a little more relaxed.

"You obviously didn't kill him," Tristan said with a nod toward Dacey.

"No. I retained just enough control to hold back for a moment. I asked the Mage to kill me, but he took her from my neck instead. I had to cut his wrist to make him drop her. We tried to burn her, like I said. But the moons were high and something else came to claim her -- some huge creature of the night that burrowed through the ground and grabbed her from the flames. Now she holds control over it."

"And now we come, totally unprepared for life on this world," Abby said. He pulled his tunic closer, and for the first time Dacey realized that he was probably cold. "And we're to save these people from the Kiya?"

"One good thing," Tristan said. "I would think that if Tabor were here, he would have been noticed as easily as we were."

"At least we may be ahead of him this time, then. I suspect that the trouble with Etric and Crystal cost him more than just time. Still, we must move quickly, and for many reasons. With the prohibition of magic we can't work openly, or even walk openly, without risking capture. And the Kiya knew we were coming. I don't know why she hasn't moved against us already. She must know I'm here."

Abby paused and looked out into the night as though he expected her arrival at any moment. Dacey noted that both he and Silver didn't look comfortable at that thought, though it didn't seem to bother Tristan much. Maybe he and his friend just wanted this battle finished.

"What can you do?" Silver asked.

"I don't know," Abby said. He sounded weary again.

"There's nothing we can do tonight," Tristan said. But he leaned forward and caught hold of his companion, pulling Abby closer. "We need rest. The journey was long."

"Sleep for a while then," Silver said. "All three of you. I can keep watch for the next few hours, and I'll wake you when the moons are setting and I have to get back to my post."

"I cannot say that it will be safe, with us here," Abby said."

"And that's why you need a guard," Silver said. He lifted his head and met Abby's look. "It's finally work that I can really do to help."

Abby and Tristan looked grateful, and immediately curled up near the magical fire, and almost immediately fell asleep. Dacey thought it nice that they trusted so well, and it helped him to settle down as well, near the welcome warmth. He didn't often get the chance to sleep without the worry of something coming upon him. It seemed the moment he closed his own eyes, he drifted to sleep as well.

But not to rest. Dacey dreamed...

She had brought him to stand before the towering bearded giant, and the man reached out and touched his forehead. The fingers sent cool fire running through his head. Dacey liked it.

"Ah yes," the stranger said. "This is the one."

"Take him, then, and be gone," Dacey's father said. "Payment made and our association at an end."

"As you will. Come boy."

Dacey took his hand, though he didn't want to. Something compelled him to go with the man, and he didn't like that feeling very much. They walked out the door and down the steps and then the world swirled up around them, a rainbow of bright beauty. They passed through, and went somewhere else.

"Oh Dacey, Dacey... I'm sorry!" his mother cried out.

He looked back, but they were already somewhere in the city.

"Pay no attention to them, boy. Few men can understand."

And he knew he was not a man. Too young to understand the meaning, but he did understand that something had changed, and made him different.

Never went back. Gregor took his voice, and made him a mage, but denied him the right to be that too...

And now... and now there was something -- someone watching in his dream. She stood there, a woman of beauty, dressed in silk, lace and gold. She smiled, and it was like the promise of something he could never ask for. He reached, but she backed away, and in her place came the men with their iron and cruelty. He tried to reach her. Or was it Abby?

The iron burnt. Burnt away his soul. Burnt away his belief that he could be human still. Fire took him, and he would have cried out...

"Wake up mage," a voice called from very far away. "Wake up. You're safe."

"What's wrong?" another asked.

Abby. He knew that voice. He came awake, gasping against the remembered pain of the iron. He trembled.

"It must be a very bad dream," Silver said, concern in his voice. "He had one like it the last time I stood guard over him, but not as bad."

Dacey looked at him, surprised. He didn't remember that dream. But he shivered, holding his shaking hands together and trying to calm himself. He felt a welling of frustration that he couldn't even reassure them that he'd only had a nightmare. He saw the worry in Abby's eyes, echoed so perfectly in Tristan's face that he couldn't tell which one actually felt the emotion first.

"Mage?" Silver said. He knelt close by. "Did your dream concern us?"

No, he answered with a shake of his head. He put a hand to his chest. Only me. And he shivered again with the remembered pain that had not been real. Not yet, at least.

Silver looked up at the sky and shook his head. "The moons are nearly down. I need to get back to my post. I think I might still be of the best help if I maintain my own place. What will you three do?"

"Stay with Dacey," Abby said. "We need to rest and learn more about your world before we can do anything that might help. Can you meet us here again tomorrow night?"

"Yes. Be careful. If you're caught, I'm only one guard, and there's not much I could do to help you."

Dacey nodded and grasped Silver's hand in friendship. Silver nodded and slipped away into the night. Tristan cast a little magic, and a wind came to cover his tracks as he left. Silver looked back, gave a little laugh, and kept walking. The wind followed like a puppy at his feet.

"It will die down when he is back," Tristan said.

"When the moons go down the guards will be back out again, won't they?" Abby asked, looking out into the dark night.

Dacey nodded.

"Then when the moons go down the fire must end," Abby said. He reached toward the warmth again. "We best take advantage of it while we can."

Chapter Six

As dawn broke through the scattered clouds of morning, the guard began to rake the city with a new ferocity born of panic. Dacey suspected that they had called out not only the day and the night men, but the reserves as well. The three might still have stood a better chance of going undetected if the loyal, magic-fearing citizens had not joined in.

It would take more than luck to stay free from that many people. The people searched every hollow, every ruin and every shadow. Dacey, Abby and Tristan fled from the onslaught of shouting voices, and even the Janin dropped her song to the softest of hums. The crowds drove them back toward the sea where they could find no cover at all. Dacey soon became frantic. Abby and Tristan soon realized the dangerousness of the situation themselves, but anything they had to say about it they communicated silently through their crowns.

They had run for hours before Abby signaled them to stop for a moment, even though voices had come very near again. He put a hand to his side as he fought for breath. Tristan looked worried and put a hand on his friend's arm.

"I'll be all right," Abby reassured them both, looking back down the twisting, debris filled alley where they had just escaped. "Let us not pretend. We are going to be caught. The sea is all that lies at the end of this run, isn't it, Dacey?"

He nodded, his eyes darting everywhere, trying to find another escape.

"Tristan, if they fear magic so much, they would likely try to destroy the Janin, and she'll only make matters worse for us."

"True," Tristan agreed, and his hand went to the crown as well.

"No, I won't part with them. The crowns are obvious like the staff and the sword. And they might aid us Tristan, if they don't realize how they work. What do you think friend?"

Dacey nodded again, and started away. The others came with him, slower now, but still moving.

"The Janin, and the sword." Abby touched the hilt and frowned. "Well have to hide them. We can't just push them beneath some rubble and hope that they'll stay safe." Abby glanced around, startled when someone shouted close by. "Where would be the safest place friend? Where do these men never go?"

Dacey knew of only one place, but he couldn't be certain that the treasures would even be safe there. Other things lived in the sea. But at the moment that was the best he could do. He waved at them to follow, and dashed down the rest of the alley. Tristan kept pace with Abby, who had slowed a bit. When Dacey looked back, Tristan had taken his friend's arm and helped him. Dacey wanted to stop for his sake, and knew that they didn't dare. The shouts and sounds of men grew louder, and from the urgency in their voices, Dacey guessed they had the trail well marked.

They were near the water. He could hear the sound of the waves against the icy rocks. The salty cool breeze brushed against his face. He waved his hand that way.

"The sea?" Abby said. "Put them in the sea?"

Dacey nodded. Abby did as well, and Tristan looked relieved.

They came out of the alley in the shadow of the palace. People stood everywhere in the square before the gate, and all of them appeared quite startled by the sight of the three fugitives.

Abby moved up beside Dacey, a hand on his sheathed sword and the Janin held high. She began to sing, her voice bright, loud. In a moment the people began to scatter, some screaming as they headed back into the city. Dacey couldn't quite understand. So far, not a thing had happened to them. Only a few of the guards moved closer, and none of them looked happy either.

Abby put a hand on his sheathed sword and the Janin's song grew even louder. The guards backed away in haste. Tristan put a hand on Dacey's arm, gently pulling him back a step, and carefully holding his own dagger out away from him.

"Be ready," Tristan whispered. "Abby will draw the sword and move toward the sea. When he's close enough he'll throw them. You must be ready to run. Abby and I will try to keep them from going after you."

Dacey shook his head in pure negation and disbelief. He would not abandon them as they protected him.

"Ah, friend. You don't understand. They may capture us, but they can't hurt us the way they can you. Iron doesn't harm us."

But they want to kill you! Surely they knew that. They'd die -- and where would that leave him, anyway?

Abby had begun moving back toward the sea, one slow step at a time. Tristan widened the space between them and the circle of attackers by a simple spell casting, a ward that glowed bright and kept everyone at bay. They might yet get away, Dacey thought. There was a path along the edge of the cliff along side the palace wall. They could go that way...

"I'm too tired still," Tristan said. "I can't hold the ward much longer. I have to get to the sea and protect Abby when he sheds himself of the only magic he holds. I will make one other magic -- something quick and flashy -- to scatter them. That's when you run. Be ready. This is our best hope, that you stay safe and can somehow help us. We've no one else to turn to."

He did not mention Silver, not here with others so close. Dacey could not imagine what a magic-less mage could do to help, but he stopped trying to argue. He would do his best to get away, perhaps find Silver, and form some plan to free the two... providing they where not killed outright here on the beach. Gods help more than his world if they fell here!

Tristan nodded and raised his hands again. Dacey heard the cries of fear from the last of the people gathered close by. He didn't look to the palace to see if anyone watched from the high windows, maybe King Tascon and his sons judging the battle and hoping their men would win.

The ward fell, but Tristan cast again. A ball of bright, fiery light rose up into the sky and scattered harmless streamers of color amongst the people who watched. They panicked and fled, drawing the last of the guard away with them. Dacey started away, glancing back in hopes that Tristan and Abby still followed him. Instead he saw Abby toss his weapons over the side of the cliff. He could hear the Janin cry out a song of anger and fear even above the screams of the crowd.

Tristan took hold of Abby's arm and started to pull him away, but the soldiers had closed in again already. Dacey fled, hoping that he could reach Silver --

A coward took him. The man had hid in the shadows, and he didn't even realize that metal was so close until he nearly fell upon him. The soldier whimpered when Dacey came close, and for his own part, Dacey shied away from the iron. The soldier tried to press himself closer against the wall, and Dacey thought he might get past, even on this narrow path. However, the rock and sand were icy. His foot went out from under him, and he went down, nearly slipping over the edge. He wrenched his knee trying to keep to the trail.

The guard knew enough to take advantage of the situation. With a shaky hand, he pulled his sword and laid it upon Dacey's neck.

He couldn't breath, of course. In a moment the sun went brighter red and the world black...

Chapter Seven

Capturing the apprentice had not brought peace to the city. Tain stood with his brothers in the council chamber and looked out the window at the smoke that rose at the far north quarter -- more burning.

"I don't understand," Micah said, his hand tapping the glass as though he could reach out to that place. "They believe the apprentice is behind this trouble. They should be feasting in jubilation at his capture, not rioting."

"Maybe... maybe they have begun to have doubts as well," Tain said and looked at Micah.

His brother may not be ready to admit those doubts, at least not aloud. But he did look back out the window and give a single, short nod.

"They should just kill the apprentice and his companions," Zev said. He stood behind them. "No, Tain, I don't think that will end the trouble -- but it will stop giving people a false enemy to hang their woes on. I don't like that they're torturing him. It's not right."

"That's heresy," King Tascon said from behind them.

Tain looked back, and gave a little bow of his head. He had long past stopped worrying about what his father thought of the situation. "Heresy, yes. But wisdom as well. There's no reason to keep them alive if they are the enemy. But you don't really believe that, do you father?"

"I want it dead," the king said. His pale face took on a grayish tint, and his hands, held in fists at his side, looked ready to pound anything. "I want it broken and dead."

"They say he can't speak," Micah said. That got Tain's attention. "How could he do magic if he can't speak?"

"He lies! He can speak! He must!"

"Not a sound," Micah said, looking at Tain this time. That almost gave Tain a shiver, to think that they had truly stopped looking to the king. "Gregor screamed for death by this point. Not a sound."

"How can that be?" Clarion said, shaking his head. "He's a mage --"

"No," Tain said. "Not a mage. He's an apprentice. Damn, what was it Gregor said when they took him? There was something -- we need to talk to members of the guard who brought him in."

"I have not given you leave --" King Tascon began.

"And we have not asked for it," Micah answered. Oh Gods, that was a surprise even to the king. Micah had always been the solid, quiet one. Tain put a hand on his brother's shoulder. There was no reason to make this worse. But Micah shook his head and would not be calmed, as though the dam had broken. "The city is burning because you have turned all your attention to a mute boy who can do us no harm. We have other problems, father."

"Now that it has been captured, we'll turn our attention to whatever other trouble may still lurk there," he said.

"Too late," Zev said. "Too late to save the people or save ourselves. And I think that they know it out there."

Tain looked back at his brother, who still stood at the window. He could see black smoke filling the sky -- a fire far closer. Damn! It looked as though half the city would go up in flames.

"Gods help us," Tain said. He looked at his father. "Gods help us, because I think it is all out of our hands now. But I won't sit here and do nothing, father."

The King stood his place at the door. His guard stood behind him, and for the first time Tain looked to those two men and their weapons.

And they stepped aside. So, he wouldn't have to run and ask Sanctuary of the Queen, as if that old law would protect him from his father now.

Tain didn't know why his father looked so surprised by the guard's desertion. He had pushed everyone to this point by his unwavering obsession. But even so, Tain stopped to talk to him, to try and explain -- to soften the blow of losing power and the panic in the man's face.

"The people will still follow you. I'm not stupid -- I don't intend to take over except in this instance, because some madness has taken your soul and driven us to this place. Until we took the mage, you had been a sane, good ruler. I don't know if some curse fell on you, or if you just refused to accept that you had made a mistake. But I cannot let this go on. Go back to your rooms. Be calm. Once this is past, and if we survive, then Dodano will be yours again. And we'll see where I end up then."

"Tain," Micah said, a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll deal with it later," Tain said again. "Let's go."

Tain and his brothers went out in the corridor, heading down the stairs and to the great hall. He half expected the king to call for his arrest, but instead he remained strangely silent. Maybe he had finally begun to see the insanity that had struck him. Maybe they would get past this madness...

But as he stepped out into the world, Tain knew that it would never be the same again. Even the looks they drew, he and his brothers, had changed.

Captain Julin came quickly, bowing his head and looking worried. "There's nothing we can do, you know. You don't want to go out there. Truly."

"No, we don't want to," Tain said. "But we must. We at least have to show that we're still here, Captain. First, though -- I need to talk to someone who was there when they took Gregor."

"Ah." Julin looked back at the men he had obviously prepared to stand guard by the walls and protect the royal family. It was their job, of course, but Tain still hated to see them ready to fight their own people. "Silver. He was there. Silver!"

The guard looked startled at hearing his name called, but he came quickly and bowed. Tain could see his face looked pale.

"Silver, you were there when they arrested Gregor, weren't you?" Clarion asked. Apparently he even knew the guard, since Silver looked at him and nodded, less worried, though still bothered. "We need to know what the mage said. Tain seems to remember something from a report."

"He said... he screamed that we needed him," Silver said. He glanced toward the gate and away again. "He yelled that there was no one else that could stop the evil."

"Yes, I suspected that much," Tain said. "But did he say anything about the apprentice?"

Silver glanced at him, and Tain could see an entirely different look in the soldier's face this time. It took him by surprise -- he hadn't thought that a member of the guard, who had spent most of the last few months hunting the apprentice -- would feel any compassion for him now. But it was there, and Silver could not hide it.

"He said that the boy would be useless," Silver said. "I remember him yelling that he'd made certain the boy would never take his place. Sir... they say... that the apprentice can't speak."

"I know. And I think Gregor made certain of it."

"Then why... why do they keep him down there?"

Julin made a little hissing sound and put a hand on Silver's shoulder. Tain looked at the Captain who hadn't yet realized what Silver obviously had seen -- that the apprentice could have had nothing to do with this.

"It is the King's wish," Tain said. And quite plainly his tone said that he didn't approve. "But we have other work now. Captain, prepare the guard to go with us to the square. I don't know that it will do any good, but we might stand a hope of calming some of these people."

"Yes, Prince Tain," he said, though he looked skeptical.

He and Silver went back to the other soldiers. Silver had given him something unexpected to consider -- that even the royal guards might turn on the king, if he did not do something to help. And as much as Tain felt tempted to instigate the trouble, he would not. The last thing Dodano needed right now was a civil war. They had other troubles ... but once those were settled, he knew there would be changes. He doubted, at this point, that he could even stop them.

Chapter Eight

Burning, burning, burning...

"Tristan, he's nearly awake," Abby whispered. Dacey heard the fear in his voice.

"I -- I can't help him. I've no more magic to do it, Abby."

But Dacey's heart raced with the pain that wracked his body and he couldn't hear anything they said as the blood rushed through his head, burning even there. The iron. They had put the iron to him, but why would Tristan and Abby... his friends...

No. The guard in the shadows by the palace had captured him. He remembered that blade against his neck, the moment of helplessness, and the knowledge that he'd failed even in this. He could not help them. He could do nothing...

He opened his eyes.

Torches lit the small room and cast shadows over the damp walls. A single man sat at a far table, his hands running over bright sharp objects that sent shivers through Dacey. He already felt the fire in his wrists and ankles where the iron held him to the walls, and from the bruises and taste of blood in his mouth, he knew he'd been lucky to be unconscious when they dragged him through the crowd to reach here.

Here where they had taken Gregor to die, slowly by the iron. Well, he couldn't say he was surprised, really. He had always expected to die here in the end, despite all his other plans.

He turned his head a little, trying to find Abby, but the slight movement sent a surge of black stars through his sight. He forced calm and met Abby's look with all the clarity of mind he could summon above the pain.

"I'm afraid it didn't work," Abby said. Dacey even appreciated the fatalistic hint of humor in the words. "I don't know what to do."

Dacey nodded, relieved to see that Abby still wore the crown. They had been right that the guard wouldn't touch them. He had a vague impression of Tristan held just beyond Abby. Unfortunately, they were obviously as helpless as him right now.

He closed his eyes, wishing the pain away, for all it would help.

"Hey."

A guard stood before him, smiling behind the gleam of metal armor. Dacey's heart pounded harder, and his breath caught, but he really couldn't hurt more. "Well, this one is a mage, isn't he," the guard said and put a hand to Dacey's cheek. Perhaps he hadn't expected the glare. He stepped away again. "Well boy? I can see the iron burns you. Do you like the feel of fire, boy? Eh?"

"He can't speak," Abby said.

"Can't you talk boy?" the guard grinned as he came closer again. "What a joke that would be, eh? A mage who can't cast spells. No. I don't believe it."

He pulled a dagger and laid it cross Dacey's cheek. The fire burnt through him and he closed his eyes, gasping.

"Talk to me boy, and I'll take it away."

He would have, of course, if only to curse the man. But the guard asked for the one thing that he could not give.

"Leave him alone!" Abby ordered, and pulled at his chains.

The blade drew away, the pain receding for a moment. When Abby gasped, Dacey turned to see through tear blurred eyes. The guard had the knife against Abby's cheek, and had used the blade to draw blood.

"I don't know what you and your companions are, thing. You use magic, but the iron doesn't burn you. But it does cut, doesn't it?"

"You will get no pleading from me," Abby replied with an evenness that stunned Dacey and worried the guard. "Nor any mercy."

"Brave words from a man held by chains and already bleeding by a sword. I'd like to know the one who got you."

"Oh yes," Abby said. His voice went even harder. "Yes, Tabor would be pleased with you, and his father even more so. I wonder if I might bring them here, if I tried."

"Abby," Tristan whispered, a frightened warning.

Abby bowed his head and the guard took that as a way out of what must have been a frightening conversation from the way he had paled. He looked worried, though he went back to Dacey, lifting the dagger and holding it a finger's breadth away from Dacey's eyes.

Time passed. Hours of agony, overcome only by the occasional darkness when his body failed him. He wished to die. If he had power even over his own body, he would have willed it.

Once they gave him water and he drank deeply before he realized that the water tasted bitter and burnt -- laced with iron dust! The man laughed at his wild look. Dacey hadn't expected even these men to be so cruel... but after that he had no sense of the world at all. Very few times he knew enough to realize a guard spoke to him. There had been only two that he remembered, the worst an old man with gray hair and the fire of fanaticism in his eyes. Other times he couldn't even perceive the world beyond the pain. Abby and Tristan remained beside him. That was all he knew. His friends were here.

"This one is strong," the old man said. "It was the water that did old Gregor in, and he died within the day, screaming all the way to his last breath."

"Then this one really can't talk."

"No, he can't. No matter. I can see it burn him."

"You gonna' rest tonight?"

"No. I want to see them break or die. I'll stay at it. We're safe even with the moons up, since we're down here."

Dacey wanted to stand in the moonlight again. He wanted to be free of this iron, and leave this body. It would never speak. The pain... He could let go...

And then, clearly, he unexpectedly heard hope.

"I'm Silver, sir. Your usual man took ill."

"Ill, huh? More likely afraid to be here tonight. You aren't going to be afraid when the moons are up, are you boy?"

"No sir. I'm not afraid of mages."

"They don't look like much do they? I expect they'll die soon enough. The silent one's pretty nearly gone already."

"There's hardly a cut on him," Silver said, moving closer to his friend. Dacey tried to lift his head, to look at Silver, but he hadn't the strength.

"No need to. Drawing blood don't hurt a mage like putting the iron to him would. Only makes them weak."

"Oh," Silver said and came closer. Dacey finally met his friend's look and saw fear in his eyes. When Silver drew his knife, Dacey felt a moment of fear, and then acceptance. An answer to his prayer.

"I would like to see the mage bleed," Silver said, but his eyes seemed to be offering something else. Dacey didn't understand.

"Then cut him," the old guard said with disinterest. "Don't matter to me."

Silver held the knife out, his face pale.

"Don't," Abby whispered, panic in his voice.

Perhaps he thought Silver intended to kill him, a mercy stroke. No. He could see something else...

Silver cut quick and deep into Dacey's arm, not an inch above the old scar where he had cut once before. It burnt again. He watched Silver draw back the knife, and shake the knife purposely splattering blood on the floor.

Then he understood the plan, and the madness that went beyond even his own insanity. Silver looked up at him, his eyes wide.

"Didn't think you'd get anything more from him," the old man said somewhere behind them.

Silver looked at Abby and nodded, trying to give him information he could not say aloud. Dacey wished Silver to run now, but he could only wish it, and Silver stayed.

"The moons are up," the old man whispered. Superstitious old fool. He shoved shut the high window that looked out at ground level.

And the ground began to shake.

Silver's eyes brightened but he looked terrified as well. His friend had gone insane since he didn't run, even with the walls shaking so much that some of the stones cracked. Even knowing what was coming...

"Gods help us," the old man said, shoving his chair a side and cowering against the nearest wall.

"They aren't likely to help you after what you've done here," Abby answered, his voice harsh.

"He's bringing the demons down on us! Kill it!"

The ceiling cracked, and even as the guard looked up, a piece of stone fell upon the old man. Maybe the gods had answered him, because it was a quicker death than he deserved.

Silver dashed to the fallen ruble, tossing stones aside with manic strength. "Mage, forgive me, but we had no allies, and this was the only power that I knew would come to our call."

"What -- comes?" Abby asked, pulling helplessly on his chains. The wall cracked, but he still could not get his hands free.

"That which holds your Kiya. It always comes when it tastes the mage's blood."

"The Kiya," Tristan said and moaned. "Abby, we can't face her now!"

"If I can find the keys we might yet get away." Silver frantically searched the body of the dead torturer. "Here!"

The ground convulsed as Silver tried to run back. He stumbled twice, but reached them quickly and released Dacey first, but he went straight down, his back to the wall. He dared not move.

As Silver released them, Abby grabbed hold of Tristan, but obviously neither of them had strength enough to stay on their feet, either. In the next moment Abby put a hand to his side where blood had already made a wide red circle on his tunic. His face went white and even Tristan gasped. He dropped down by Dacey, and obviously neither would get back up easily.

The walls began to crumble.

"Tristan, forgive me. I know you're weak and Abby is hurt, but the mage looks as though he might die. Can you help him?" silver whispered. The ground shook, stronger this time.

"The walls will hold it out a little longer," Tristan said. He closed his eyes. "Take me to your friend. Abby is too far gone, and I haven't the strength to find him."

"Find him?" Silver said. He took hold of Tristan's out stretched hand, and then nodded. "Yes. The darkness when we linked. I hadn't realized you are blind."

"I don't think these walls will hold much longer, Tristan said. "The wards are very old."

"Old wards?" Silver said, startled by the idea. Even Dacey hadn't realized, even though he had faintly felt the magic. "Magic here? At the palace?"

"Yes," Tristan said. He laid his hands gently on Dacey, who hardly felt as though he was even really part of this place. He whispered words, and Dacey could see a sheen of perspiration appear on his friend before he finally drew back. "There is so much damage. I stemmed what damage I could, but he needs far more care than I can manage, Abby. And I fear that we will kill him if we try to drag him off into the city to hide like an animal again."

Dacey wanted to tell them to go and just let him die here, in peace. Not to take him out where the soldiers would only hunt for him again.

"I don't think we can get out anyway," Silver said. The corridor has collapsed, and it's a wonder we're not buried already. But damn -- at least the soldiers won't have him again."

"I can't -- I have no more magic to get us out Abby."

"But Dacey does," Abby said. "Even now. He'll make a very strong mage and a powerful ally, if..." Abby came closer and knelt beside Dacey who watched him with a feeling of distance, as though he could hold the world at bay and the pain away. Abby lifted Dacey's head into his lap -- a gentle, wondrous touch even above the pain.

"Abby --" Tristan said, coming closer, but stopping. "Yes. We have no other choice."

"My friend, we are in trouble," Abby said. The words drew Dacey back, and he looked with odd clarity into the bright green eyes of his friend. He even lifted a hand that Abby caught in his own. Dacey wanted to help them, to get his three friends away from the death that came, burrowing through the ground, for them all.

And he felt something peculiar as he looked deeply into those green eyes, as though something powerful slept there, but now slowly awakened.

"Abby," Tristan began, and Dacey could hear wonder in his voice, and saw the way he closed his eyes, his head tilted, and his finger to the crown as though to touch something that he didn't quite understand.

The room shook with a new violence as though she felt something change as well, and didn't like it.

"Friend, look at me," Abby said softly, but with such compulsion that Dacey could not look anywhere else. "Please, we need your help."

And it seemed as though those bright green eyes looked into his soul. Dacey stared into his eyes...

Somewhere, some bit of logic told him what he had never realized about Abby before: Aubreyan Altazar was not a man. He was something far different. Not like Tristan, or the People of the Night. Different in other ways, and he had power, even if it wasn't magic.

"Friend," he said with both words and will. "Help us."

The ground trembled, but Dacey only held to Abby's hand and felt both calm and strength given to him.

"Help me save them."

The only way he could help would be with magic.

The only way he could cast a spell would be to speak.

His mind swirled in a new agony, and his tormented soul fought against his need and Gregor's spell. He could not look away from those green eyes, which held more power than any man ever had or would.

"Help us, Dacey. Tell us what we need to do. Speak."

I cannot. Gregor forbade it.

But Gregor was only a man...

Abby was something far more.

"Speak," Abby said again.

A bright, burning spot formed in Dacey's mind, a fire like all the iron burning, burning... speak, it said. Speak because I tell you that you must.

("Until I break that spell, Dacey, you shall not speak. I must protect myself from ambitious apprentices." But there had been madness in those eyes even then. Dacey hadn't understood, but he didn't speak again.)

"Speak."

The fire burnt even the sight of Gregor's wild eye from before him. Dacey lifted his hands to his face and wept from pain and despair.

"By the Gods, Abby," Tristan whispered. "You did it!"

He wept aloud. Until Tristan's words, he hadn't realized, and now he looked up, too stunned to make another sound.

The ground heaved up beside him and something hard began to pound at the stones beneath them. It would not take long for it to come through.

"The wards are going to fall!" Tristan warned. "Friend, if you can speak, if you have any magic left -- cast now. I've no strength left!"

Dacey forced himself to sit up and only stayed there because Silver held him. He surveyed the room with a quick glance. Abby and Tristan sat near him, both so exhausted that they didn't look likely to walk out of here, even if he could find a way. The old man lay dead in the corner, and the grate on the high, small window had fallen out, showing the bright light of the moons beyond. The floor leapt upward now and then, and he could see the fingers of the creature, trying to break through.

Dacey lifted his hand and sketched a ward in the air. It came, wavered, and died. He had the power, but the pain -- Gods, the iron-laced pain still blocked the magic. He grabbed at the twin moons' magical blue glow spilling through the grate in the far wall but it could not heal fast enough. He willed his body to obey, but another attempt to lift his arms only made him nearly faint, tumbling back into Silver's arms.

"You tried your best," Silver said, and let Dacey rest heavily against him even while the walls began to crumble.

His friend...

He looked out at the moons again.

And truly spoke his first word, a whisper of sound above the cracking walls.

"Phaedra!"

The world danced and moved, and went black for a while...

"Get between them and the djinn!"

"But they are men!"

"You cannot truly believe so."

"No. No I can't."

Dacey tried to open his eyes, to see her. He knew that voice, so soft and musical, dancing through his mind as she had before his eyes so long ago.

"Phaedra," he whispered aloud again.

"I am here, Mage... as I said I would be." A soft hand touched his face and he looked up into her pale face. He could not quite focus on her, but he felt his first hope with her arrival. "God's mage... what have they done to you? I'll rip his heart out!"

She grabbed Silver, who made no move to stop her as she brought the sword down toward him. But Dacey caught her arm. "No. Silver... is my friend."

"Your friend? With your blood on his dagger, mage?"

"Yes." Speaking proved to be difficult. He could hardly find the words to explain, or force them from his mind to his mouth. "Please."

She lowered the sword on the side opposite from him and caught hold of his arm with her free hand. "My people have chased the djinn away. What in the name of all the Gods is going on in this man-blighted land anyway? We feel things happening here, though we can not see."

"Abby... Tristan," Dacey said, glancing around the ruins of the room. He found the two, sitting side-by-side not far away, both of them looking hardly cognizant of what had happened.

"The djinn is gone, but the soldiers will come back soon. The moons are almost down. We must get away," she said, and started to lift him.

"The... others," he said, almost pulling away. "Abby, Tristan, Silver --"

"I have not come to your aid to let you fall to these men again. I am getting you away."

"I can not leave them. Go."

She turned back to him, openly amazed. "Have you gone mad?"

"Phaedra!" Brother said at the door. "Hurry! We cannot hold it back much longer, and as soon as the moons are down, we will be helpless before it! We must get back to the sea!"

"We have a problem," she said. "He will not come --"

"By the Gods, you test us man!" he said, coming a few steps closer.

"He will not come without his friends."

Brother looked at the three and shook his head as he looked back. "They are men."

"I... am also a man," Dacey said. He fell back against the wall.

"No," she said. "They made you something a part from them, as they did us."

The ground shook again and he nearly fell, but pulled away when Phaedra reached for him again. She hissed this time.

"It returns! We must go!" Brother shouted.

"Go," Silver said. He grabbed Dacey and pushed him into Phaedra's hands. "Take him and go. Bind his wound. It's how the djinn finds him -- through the taste of his blood on the ground. I'll do my best to save the others, but he's our only hope. She said it was so. Abby and Tristan -- I think they are not men either. Truly, Tristan reminds me very much of you, my lady and lord. And Abby is something else entirely. Can't you see that?"

The ground shook more violently again. Brother came closer to help with Dacey, but he still somehow got free of them and reached for Silver again.

Silver lifted his dagger and held it like a brand between himself and Dacey, who drew back for a moment, but then reached and pulled the weapon from Silver's hand, the man too surprised to stop him.

"Mage!" Phaedra whispered, and took the dagger from his numbed fingers. "Gods, thy madness is contagious."

She looked at her brother. He looked out at the moons and then back at her again. "I'll take one of the two there," he said pointing to Abby and Tristan. "Phaedra, you take your mage."

"Thank you," Silver said. He went to his knees and bowed before them. "Go quickly, before the enemy comes again --"

"Get off your knees, fool," Brother said and gave an unexpectedly friendly slap on the back of his shoulder. "I can't carry them both."

Phaedra lifted Dacey. He tried to whisper words of thanks, but he hardly had the strength left to even breathe. He watched as Silver lifted Abby, worrying when he didn't respond at all. Brother had lifted Tristan without a problem, and the look on his face showed surprise.

"This one truly is not a man," Brother agreed.

"We knew something odd was afoot in the land. I would guess that they might even know something about those bright baubles thrown into our sea," she said as she carried Dacey past the ruins of the door. He had never expected to leave this room. He wished he could feel the wonder of it right now, but instead he closed his eyes to the swirling movement and tried just to listen.

"The staff and the sword?" Silver dared to ask. "They must have realized that they dared not let them fall into human hands. Abby and Tristan's magic -- like the crowns they wear. Telepathic crowns."

"And where did they get such wondrous things on this world where such magic is an invitation for... this?" Phaedra said and held Dacey closer. He had never felt so protected.

"My lady, they did not come from this world."

"I thought it might be so," she answered. "I don't understand what is happening here. Say no more, Silver. We must get away quickly, and I want to hear this tale properly. We shall shelter you through the day when we cannot walk the lands of man. When they can speak, then all of us will gather and hear this tale. Then we shall decide if my promise to this wondrous mage shall include other battles you seem to have found."

And the ground shook again, as though the Kiya had heard and didn't like the idea that these four had found aid. Good. He wanted to hope again.

And he thought about Abby and what he had done, and shivered... but for a different reason.

They moved out into the city, and for a moment he looked in shocked dismay. Fires raged nearly everywhere he could see.

"The djinn?" he said, lifting a hand toward the destruction.

"No," Brother said softly. "No. The humans have gone mad, Mage. I fear they have seen too much of the truth and cannot accept it now."

"How could they..." He looked around, feeling his heart pound painfully. He lifted his hand and tried to call a storm, rains to quench these fires, even if he could not end the ones that burned inside him. He could stop a fire... He could...

"Easy, friend," Brother said, coming up behind him and Phaedra. Tristan, surprisingly, seemed to be moving on his own, though he didn't look very conscious of it, and Brother held tight to him. "Easy. Don't try magic. I think that would kill you now, and all our work would be for nothing."

"I cannot bear it," Dacey whispered. "I don't want the city gone."

They had reached the edge of the cliff. Brother turned a little, sighed and lifted his hand.

And the rains came, sweet and cleansing. Dacey let his head fall back on Phaedra's arm. Strong woman, to carry him so far...

And he closed his eyes...

Chapter Nine

Tain watched the group on the shore, his breath held. He didn't know what would happen. He didn't know what madness kept him there by the window, watching the forbidden, and seeing their destruction.

He couldn't say he was glad to see the three prisoners escape. Better that they'd died quickly, or never been taken at all. But to go now with these others seemed to portend far worse to come.

And he cursed Silver just then, seeing him with them... even knowing that he had done what was right in some ways. But he proved himself a traitor, standing with the enemy...

Or maybe not. Tain had seen the creature pursuing them, as well, and if they were the enemies of that thing then he could not count them his enemies as well.

And there, in the last moments as the moons sank, in the lurid light of the burning city, he saw one of the People of the Night turn and lift his arm in a gesture that made Tain's heart stop.

"Oh Gods," Micah whispered. He hadn't realized his brother stood there as well, but he couldn't look away from the coming destruction.

And... The rains came. The rains came and quenched the fires that had looked to burn down half the city. By the time Tain looked back at the cliff side, he thought he could only see a little bit of a tunnel out in the sea, and something bright and beautiful.

"I don't understand," Micah said. "Why? What did they gain by saving the city?"

"I don't think they gained anything. I think they did it because it was the right thing to do."

He looked at Micah, who shook his head, his face pale. Denying it... but he looked back out again, and his breath caught.

Tain looked. The creature had come all the way down to the cliff and stood there, leaning out over the water, as though it considered leaping in.

"That," Tain whispered, even knowing the creature could not hear them here. "That is our real enemy. Not the People of the Night. Not the apprentice and his allies. That thing is the enemy. Do you understand, Micah?"

"Y-yes." He nodded. Tain saw him look out at the sea and then back at the creature. It turned away as well, and in a moment dirt and debris flew in the air as it dug down into the ground. The world shook.

"Oh gods," Micah whispered, but it stopped in the next moment.

Tain breathed again. He looked out at the city where rain damped and killed the last of the fires, though dark smoke clung everywhere. By then the moons had gone and the world went dark.

Tain went back to his desk, only a step or two away. It took him two tries to get his candle lit again. Micah started at the light, and then went to the nearest chair and sat down. He ran his hands through his hair.

"We can't tell anyone what we saw," Tain said. "No matter what we believe, or what we saw happen, the rest of the people are not ready to accept that anything connected with magic will help us."

Micah started to argue. Stopped. "Clarion and Zev?"

"Yes, we should tell them. But not father or mother."

"Father is crazy."

"Careful, careful," Tain whispered.

Micah looked inclined to say more, but a sound in the hall finally stopped him, and the fright brought him back to at least the edge of sanity. Tain couldn't say that his brother would ever fully recover. He didn't think that he would.

They didn't go out to see the city until the next morning. Tain had thought about touring with the guard that night, but instead he ordered the guards to stay at their posts, and won a look of thanks from Captain Julin. He did not tell the man that he had seen Silver, gone with the People of the Night, but he thought that some of the others must have seen part of what happened. He had heard them whisper about the People... and other things.

The morning proved bright and cool. The taint of smoke clung to the air, and soot seemed to cover the entire city in a dark pall. He could hear people not far away, but he saw no one near the road outside the palace grounds, where the creature had left such a pile of destruction behind.

"Have some men start work on flattening that back out," Tain said, looking at the Captain.

"Sir?" he said, startled. "With so much else --"

"That first. We begin rebuilding. Normalcy here by the palace first, so that we can have a vision of putting the world to right."

"Ah. Yes, Prince Tain. I see."

He went to the work, and Tain thought some of the soldiers actually looked relieved, even if it meant lugging stone and doing the work of peasants. Tain couldn't blame them. He considered staying to help as well, because it seemed far more normal than anything else that they might do today.

At midday, Tain finally marched out at the head of the soldiers. Zev unexpectedly rushed forward to join him and Captain Julin. Tain looked at him, curious.

"You aren't going out without one of your brothers with you. That's a new law."

"Zev --"

"Don't argue. Just be cooperative for once in your oh-so-perfect I'm the crown prince life."

The captain coughed, his face going red as he tried not to laugh. Tain finally gave in, mostly because they were making good time anyway, but he would have to talk to them when they got back. Not that he really expected it to help.

"Do we have any word about anything at all, Captain?" Tain finally asked.

"Unrest toward the lower market. And... something moves through the ground, often bringing down buildings, especially those already weakened by fire. There's quite a few homeless wandering around. We need to do something about them as soon as we can."

"Good point," Tain said. He started looking around, trying to recall what buildings he had seen from the palace windows. He needed something large and still relatively intact. It would have helped if there had not been fires in nearly every quarter....

They reached the lower market in good time. No booths had been set up, and the people milled about -- until the soldiers arrived.

Tain couldn't tell if they were pleased to see the soldiers, or if it set off their anger. The results were the same. The crowd started to press closer, getting louder. The people behind wanted in front. The people in front got angry...

"Oh hell," Captain Julin said. "Get back, Prince -- Princes. Get the hell back. We don't have enough guards to keep you two safe!"

Tain thought about trying to reason with the people, and thought better of it in the next moment. He could see the faces now, a mass of bulging eyes, lips moving in unintelligible shouted words. The anger surged, strong enough to feel. He backed up. Zev had hold of his arm.

"Where's the King!" someone shouted, clear enough to be heard. "Where is he! Why isn't he helping!"

And then the shouts started again, but the words had startled Tain, coming too close to his own thoughts. He tried to stop, to calm them --

A rock hit the wall beside his head, startling him before he grew angry. But he couldn't see who had thrown it, and Captain Julin had suddenly realized the true danger and thrown himself in front of Tain. Zev had moved up as well, which annoyed Tain even more. He caught Zev's arm --

Zev staggered, going down to his knees. Blood ran from a cut in his forehead.

And Tain yelled, stepped out in front of the nearest group, despite the others, and shouted at them in words they likely hadn't expected from a prince of the line, let alone the heir.

"Get the hell away and stop this, you stupid bastards! We're here to help you!"

They began to quiet, people looking startled --

And that was when the ground began to move again.

"Oh hell! Run! Get out of here!" Tain shouted. "Stop gathering like this -- it makes it easier for this creature!"

He saw sanity for the first time. People turned, scattered. Captain Julin had wisely taken hold of Zev, and another soldier had already put a bandage around the prince's head. But the ground moved, and it took two of them to keep Zev to his feet as they quickly retreated.

Tain looked back to see a giant, dirt brown hand reach up where he and the soldiers had stood a moment before. It grabbed at the walls, and yanked another building down, and then disappeared again.

Tain didn't stop again until they were back at the palace. By then Zev had recovered enough to argue with Tain about what he had done to protect his brother... but it was all moot by now. The soldiers had seen the creature as well. Panic began spreading in the ranks.

No one would survive for long.

Part 3: The Mage

Chapter One

Dacey heard a whisper of sound that slowly defined into voices. Some of the voices seemed very near, but quiet. The whispering both distracted and attracted him. He turned his head, gasping at the pain of even that little movement, and opened his eyes. Colors swirled and the soft sounds became too sharp.

"Phaedra, he's awake."

Dacey blinked up at Brother who sat beside him, strong hands holding Dacey still as he trembled. Trapped, his mind screamed within him and sent him trembling with the remembrance of iron fire and pain that still clung to him.

"No, calmly, calmly mage!" Brother said and leaned closer holding him. Worry showed in his face this time. "I'll not hurt you."

"You are safe, Mage," Phaedra said. She knelt beside his bed, placing her cool fingers upon his face. He remembered such a touch before, from dreams that eased the pain. "You are safe here."

Abby and Tristan appeared. They looked worn and bruised, but on their feet. He blinked at the sight, grateful that they had come here. He wanted...

"Silver!" he whispered, afraid for his friend.

"I'm here," Silver said and moved forward. He knelt beside Phaedra and she made no protest. That was good. "Rest Mage, please."

"Dacey," he said, blinking. "Not mage. Dacey."

"Dacey," Silver repeated. He smiled. "Sleep, Dacey. You're safe."

He closed his eyes, as Phaedra's hand brushed at his hair, soothing away fear if not the pain. "How could they do such a thing to this child?" she whispered, perhaps thinking Dacey already slept.

"Lady, I will not even begin to make excuses for what my people have done to him. There are none," Silver said with such a bite of anger that Dacey almost shuddered at the sound.

"And yet you are a soldier," Phaedra said.

"No, my lady. I only wear the uniform. I have not been a guard since the night she took hold of me. Since then I've only waited, to do what I could when the time came."

"No soldier would have so willingly come here," Brother said. "I will concede that to him, Phaedra."

"He helped us," Abby offered softly, as though afraid to offend her.

"Truly, my lady, I don't know what this battle is between your people and mine. But it is not my battle. I fight with Abby, Tristan and The Mage -- Dacey. You saved us, and I'm grateful. That's all I know."

"Between you and Dacey, I would think that man had changed very much, Silver," Phaedra said. "But then I see what they have done to him, and know that you... you are also an outcast like the mage, now. In all my life, I have not come close to understanding your people."

"I thought I did," Silver said. He sounded lost and bitter. "But now I know that I had no answers, I just never questioned my world. Ignorance is a disease, and it weakened me so much that the Kiya hardly had any trouble taking me. She wanted me to kill the mage because he had touched her and cast her aside, and knew her evil. And she knew he had power. Through her I saw that Dacey was good. And he should have killed me and destroyed her. Instead he saved me. Knowing then what I did, how could I not fight by his side? Gods, how can you not look at that innocence and not feel that you would be the lowest animal alive if you did not want to help him?"

"Truly, it is so," Phaedra said and sounded far too sincere. Dacey almost opened his eyes to look at her. "You and I have much in common."

And Dacey drifted toward sleep, safe with his friends...

Chapter Two

They sat in silence by the bed, watching as Dacey fell back to a deep, restful sleep. He looked better, Abby thought, and leaned back in the soft chair, relaxing a little.

They often sat here through the long vigil, in a room of iridescent light, and walls of water made solid. He could love this place, if it didn't feel so much like a prison.

"I fear..."Abby began and then paused for a moment. "I fear that I have brought danger to your city."

"You brought nothing, Abby. I brought you here. This is my choice. And from all you have told me, your battle came to my world long before you did."

"Your world? It came to the lands where men dwell. I didn't think that was your world."

"How did this happen?" Tristan asked. "How did you come to be banished here?"

"A thousand years ago we still walked the lands," she said. "The People and men both. Men lived more quickly, bright burning stars that could streak across the land and build and disappear, always too quickly gone. We watched them come and go from our city in the mountains. We spoke with them, when they came to us. We helped when we could, but they were different than we were, and that brought dissention and trouble."

"We understand, Tristan and me. It's much the same on our world."

"Truly?" She sounded saddened by the answer. "Is there no where that the people of magic can live with man?"

"None that we've found," Tristan said. "But we still have a long ways to go."

"To fight battles to save all peoples," she said and looked from one to the other. "Well, let me tell you how we came to have lost this one. Men envied us that we could live apart and survive by magic when they had to till upon the land. We fought, we and our allies, against man and mage. Battles devastated most of the little island. But the mages banded together and at last they found the key -- not to kill us, but at least to banish us from the sun. The curse stays. And as long as a mage remains alive, here we shall remain."

"And how many are left?" Tristan asked.

"Only one," Phaedra said. She gently brushed her hand across his hair again.

"And you aided him, helped him to live?" Abby asked, shocked. Astonished.

"The curse is no more Dacey's fault than the magic that took his voice. The mages of the past tried to rule the world after we had been banished. Man would have nothing to do with their magics. We were cursed, and they were hunted. We always thought that man would end our curse for us. We waited. We made it easy for man -- we pooled our last great powers and gave all the mages the curse of burning iron. I am sorry for that now. I wish I could take it back."

"But that still brings us to now," Brother said when Phaedra had stopped talking. "Tristan and Abby, you are not of our world. I want to know how you came to be fighting this war against demons."

"I was suited to help Abby," Tristan said and grinned. "For very many reasons."

"And you, Abby?"

"I was born to the battle," he replied with a hardness that brought a look of surprise from Phaedra.

"Born to battle evil," Brother said. His voice softened. "You are not a man either, are you?"

"Not... entirely."

"You are neither man, nor of the People of Magic -- not even as your Tristan is, an elf. Silver told me how Dacey regained his voice. You have no magic. How did you do what you did?"

"Please," he said, and fear came to his voice. He didn't want to think about that part again. He feared...

"Peace," she said with a sigh. "I shall ask no more. You and Tristan are welcome here. We shall ask nothing else of you."

"May I ask an indelicate question?" Tristan said. She nodded, looking intrigued. "My people do not kill, but you were not slow to rush into battle. Why have you not... let Dacey die?"

"We have our honor," she said. "Dacey has done us no harm. When we came here, our honor was all that we had left, and we will not throw it away."

"You walk the land when the moons rise," Silver said. "What happens if you stay after they set?"

"We would lose our powers until the next time the moons rose. And in that time we would be at the mercy of man. Do you think we would survive?"

"I cannot say, Lady," Silver said. "I've seen you fight, even without magic."

"Very diplomatic," Brother said with a laugh. "Come, friends. Let us go take dinner together, and discuss our next step in the new madness."

Chapter Three

The council no longer met. Even the city elders rarely came to the castle, and Tain couldn't even say how many of them survived. There had been only one messenger from outside the city, and he'd barely gotten through the dangerous, riot-filled streets, to them.

The royal family no longer reigned over anything beyond the castle. Chaos ruled the land, and they sat, the council, all but helpless, within the confines of the palace that had been their symbol of power. They didn't talk about their families, supposedly safe outside the city. They couldn't know if the rebellion, riots and madness had spread that far.

"Are they really in rebellion?" Zev asked, sitting on Tain's bed. Clarion stood by the window, and Micah leaned against the desk flipping through a book he would have burned just weeks before.

Tain leaned against the door, listening. The servants had mostly abandoned the palace, except for a few of the Queen's ladies, who had stayed with her throughout this madness.

Zev still looked at him, as though he really expected Tain to have some answer.

"I don't know what's going on. Half the guard has deserted -- probably more, but Julin isn't saying. I don't think he wants to worry me with how little protection we have. The djinn is still at large, and its creatures have taken more humans. If we don't stop it, they'll all turn on us. It won't be rebellion. They'll have had just cause by then."

"You think, even though the apprentice is loose now, that he's not behind this," Clarion said.

"Do you believe this is his work?"

"No," Clarion said. He stopped and seemed to consider the words. "No, not at all. Nor the People of the Night, as father tried to claim. There's something more lose in our world. We need... allies."

Zev looked up, his face gone pale. Micah put the book aside.

"You can't really mean..." Zev began, his voice hardly a whisper. "Not the People."

"If they are not our enemies, then we need them to be our friends," Clarion answered.

Tain hadn't expected those words, spoken so clearly from his brother. He listened at the door, afraid suddenly for Clarion's life. He could see the anger in his brother's face, and knew that he could be indiscreet at such times.

"I don't think anyone else is ready for such allies, Clarion," Tain said.

"Even you?" Clarion asked.

"I... wouldn't turn them away," he admitted. Then he shrugged. "But we aren't likely to win them over, are we? They haven't come out since they rescued the apprentice."

Oh, that won their attention. He smiled and waved to the window. "I have the perfect view, you know. Comes with being the Prince Heir."

"You've watched. At night? With the moons up?" Zev said. His voice rose slightly, and then dropped again. "We've all gone mad."

"We're about to lose everything, my brothers," Tain said. "Not just our power to rule. There are things out there that will take over the world. Oh yes, I know it -- I've read that much in books the fools of another age forbade us. I fear, unless we move to counter this evil, there won't be anything worth ruling left. The wyrdbane are growing. Do you think anyone, even beyond the city, will be safe from them?"

"No," Clarion said. "They won't be safe, not even royal wives and babies."

Zev nodded first. Micah sat down, frowning. Tain feared what Micah might do with this knowledge. Next in line for the throne, he had always been quiet, attentive -- and Tain had spent a few years wondering if he could even trust him.

But they had no choice. He might have kept Micah out of their councils. He might even have had Micah removed -- but when the time came to make the decision, he had found no reason to actually distrust him.

Now they would know.

"I read a book on the People of the Night a few years ago," Micah said. "The Talridge. Have you read it yet?"

Well, that certainly hadn't been what Tain had expected. And Micah must have seen it in his face. He looked down at his hands, and when he looked up again, he smiled in a mischievous way Tain had never seen before.

"You read these books before the trouble?" Tain asked.

"Oh yes. Long before. If I wasn't going to be king, I wanted something else. Something unique. And now you've gone and taken that away from me." He laughed at Tain's look. "Oh, be still, brother. It just means that you can trust me more than you think. And I managed to wrest two very old manuscripts from the temple. They had no idea what they were, but they were written before the people went into the sea. Before human mages sent them there."

"That part is true?" Clarion asked. "Mages are that strong?"

"They were that strong. But from what I've read, they hardly had the power to keep wards in place and make a fire after the People were exiled."

"The mage magic was somehow tied to the People?"

"No. The People cursed all mages to burn from iron. Iron is so much a part of our world that it took at least a generation before they could deal with just the everyday pain. And they lost much of the magic that had been of use to them. No magical weapons, for instance. A shame, that."

"Yes, that would be handy, wouldn't it?" Zev said. He seemed amused.

"But there's something else. I've only read it in one book, but I suspect, given the source, that it was true. It was written by one of the People during the war. A bitter man, who had stood by humans for most of his very long life, and who saw his human friends killed for siding with him."

"There is such a book?" Tain said, surprised.

"Oh yes. And it says one thing that is very important. As long as a mage lives, they will be exiled."

"Gregor is dead," Zev said. "And they took... Do you think they killed him?"

"They could have left the apprentice to die. They could have killed him. I saw them carry him away. Gently. And fight off those who tried to kill him. No, they did not take him to kill him."

"Then why?" Zev asked, confused again.

"Because..." Micah began. Then he sat up and looked at Tain. "Because they are not the enemy."

"Hell," Tain said. He shook his head. "What can we do with this knowledge? How can it help us?"

"It can help us in the one, most important way," Micah said. "We know that they are not our enemies. And that gives us a better feeling when we approach them. And we will, won't we, Tain?"

"Yes. I watch for them to come back out. When they do, I have every intention of going down and talking with them."

His three brothers stared at him. But Micah nodded, and stood suddenly, walking to the window and looking out -- out into the moonlight filed night.

"The world changes. Or maybe it just slips back to what it once was," Micah said. "However it goes... at least it is better than doing nothing."

"The king won't approve," Tain said.

Micah looked back at him, his head tilted a little. In the silence they could hear movement somewhere else.

"No, the king will not approve," Micah said.

And he turned back to the window.

No one else said anything at all.

Chapter Four

The time passed slowly and without meaning for Dacey. Hours or days, he could not judge. The People of Magic healed him so he couldn't even judge time by the healing of injuries. He only rested and slept while the fire no magic could reach still burnt within him. He knew that his friends watched over him. He knew they kept him safe.

But somewhere, back behind the battered wall he put up around the pain that still pulsed with every heartbeat... somewhere back there he knew that the world still moved and that he needed to be somewhere else.

Somewhere not safe.

He shied away from it.

Sometimes others came to the room where he rested. Phaedra sat with him, whispering her spells that eased pains so that breathing no longer seemed so difficult. He slept, safe in a nest of powers that kept him, almost, away from all the rest of the world.

But people spoke around him. Phaedra, Brother, Silver, Abby and Tristan. He listened, sometimes to words that drew flutters of fear, words that reawakened pain -- but he listened anyway.

"There's trouble in the city," Phaedra said, softly. Dacey's eyes flickered open -- dim light, rest. Only Phaedra and Brother were there, beside him. He closed his eyes again, even though he thought he should try to talk with them and discuss the city. His world, after all -- not theirs.

At least not any more.

"What do you think we should do about it?" Brother asked. Though his voice stayed calm, Dacey could feel the sting of anger. "Should we go and risk our lives to save them, my lovely sister? We'd be better off if let them all die."

"Oh yes, far better off," Phaedra answered. Her hand brushed lightly over Dacey's hair, easing the start of a shudder. "Far better off if we let this one die, wouldn't we? Is that what you want?"

"No," he said, and sighed. "No. And not just for honor's sake. He reminds me of... of friends long dead. That's not good, Phaedra. I don't want those ties again."

"I know. And I would not wish that sorrow on you again, Brother. But here is Dacey. And Silver. What shall we do about it?"

"I don't know any more. I truly don't know."

"I asked you to meet me here because we need to decide. The rest of the People will follow us in whatever we choose. You know that. But if you and I cannot agree on actions, then there will be dissention here in the city. We don't need that, either. So you and I must come to some agreement on what to do."

"What if I say to let the city fall, and that I will never fight for them."

"Then I would think you are lying," Phaedra said. Brother made a little sound of anger. "No, you cannot tell me that you would willingly let them all die because of some past evil, done by people long dead and dust."

"And are you telling me the people who did this to Dacey are any better?"

"I think those people are worse. I think Dacey and Silver are better. And what of Abby and Tristan, Brother? Where do we fit them into the equation?"

"And their Kiya," Brother said.

"Oh yes. And the Kiya Chanda Andee. We had already felt her touch upon the world long before all the rest of this madness started. So where do we fit all of them into this trouble? How do we deal with it?"

"I don't know," Brother said. He sounded angry in that moment. But then he sighed yet again, as though holding the anger had proven too difficult. "I really don't know any more."

"Here, Brother, is something perhaps that can help you," Phaedra said. "Do you really think, having destroyed all the people of Dodano, that this Kiya and her slaves will stop there?"

"No, I don't," he said, and in a way that made it obvious he'd thought of that matter before this. "I just... I don't know where I should stand anymore."

"How about just standing on the side of right," Phaedra said. "And let the old wars and the old scars be damned."

Brother's breath caught for a moment. Then he gave a strangled little laugh. "Yes. Yes, that suits me, doesn't it?"

"Very much so," Phaedra said. Her hand brushed against Dacey's hair again, a little whisper of magic easing what had started to be a pounding pain in his head. "Peace, little human. Peace. I always knew where he would stand when it came to it."

"Did you bring me here so that he would hear?" Brother asked.

"No. I brought you here because it's the one place I knew that you could speak freely without any of the others watching and taking what they would from our discussion. We stand on the edge, Brother."

"I know. Maybe it's time we... let go."

"Maybe it is. But we have kept our people alive a long time, waiting. I do not think the time has come to step aside for others, not when we face our first real challenge in so many centuries. They are waking up, Brother. Our people, who have waited and dreamed, sang and danced for so long, are waking up."

"But... we cannot give them what they truly want. We cannot give them the sun again."

"No, we can't. But we can give them life, nonetheless. We can give them reason. I think that's important enough, don't you?"

"Yes. For them... and for me. So what do we do now, Phaedra?"

"We work with Abby and Tristan. They know this enemy better than I hope we ever will."

"Abby is not human, you know."

"I know."

That brought Dacey's eyes open. Phaedra looked at him, a soft smile easing any moment of worry. "Here, let us get you something to drink, Dacey."

He shook his head, not willing to accept that much of life. But Brother moved in and carefully lifted him. He hadn't even the strength to hold his head up. Phaedra had stepped away and came back, a crystal goblet in her hands. She touched it to his lips and he sipped only because she wished it. The liquid tasted sweet, fresh, and alive. He sipped a little more, but even that proved more difficult than he had expected.

"Easy, Dacey," she said again, and laid a finger along the side of his face, looking into his eyes. He couldn't imagine what she saw in him.

"Please," he whispered, unsure exactly what he wanted. The sound of his voice startled him. He had almost forgotten he could speak aloud.

"We'll do what is right," Brother said, and his hands moved a little, shifting Dacey slightly in his hold. "We'll do what we should, because, in the end, honor is all we really ever had."

And even Phaedra nodded at that one.

Chapter Five

Tain had seen the People come up from the sea. He had seen, far off in the distance, the city where they lived. Magic. His breath caught and his heart thumped and...

And he saw beauty. He hadn't expected that part. Oh, he'd read all about how lovely the world had been with magic in the air, but he pretty much thought the world lovely enough anyway.

But now... a city made of light and glass, glowing in the night. And people who moved up into the world, dancing in the moonlight with the stars around them. He dared to push the glass frame open, and heard them as well, a faint whisper of bells and music on the air. Unworldly. Magic.

Could he really go down there? Could he walk among those beings, face them, and ask their help? What if they said --

From where he stood, he could see movement at the edge of the palace wall where there should not have been any, and in that moment he knew that it meant danger.

He considered shouting, but he couldn't be certain that would help -- the People of the Night seemed to have quite a bit of sound with them, and they were still too far out in the ocean.

Tain pulled the window closed, and spun, rushing across the room and out into the hall. Candles fluttered as he moved toward the stairs, wondering how he would get the guard to go out -- if he should call for his brothers --

No, not yet. Let him take the chance on this first meeting. Leave the others to deal with the problem if this went badly.

Clarion stood at the bottom of the stairs, obviously waiting for him.

"They've come out?" he asked, brushing at his cloak.

"Yes. And something seems to be waiting for them," Tain said. He put a hand on Clarion's arm. "You shouldn't do this. I need you and the others to hold back, Clarion. If this doesn't work --"

"If this doesn't work, I'm convinced that we haven't a chance in hell of surviving," Clarion said quite plainly. "So I'd rather go out there and face our only hope with you."

Tain started to argue, and changed his mind. He couldn't protect his brothers from the dangers of this world. He had learned that very young, at the death of their youngest brother. Now he nodded to Clarion and started out again, picking up his pace. No time to argue. No time to waste. No time...

King Tascon stood in the main hall, and Tain knew that he had come there specifically to meet them. Tain stopped and softly cursed, wishing he had ordered Clarion away after all. However, this was not a time to slow, even with four of the guard at his father's back.

"Treason," the king said. His eyes showed circles of white around the pupils. He looked quite totally mad.

"Treason to walk in the halls?" Tain asked. He looked to the guard, trying to decide what he saw there in Captain Julin's eyes. The man did not look happy to be here, but that didn't mean he would, in fact, suddenly abandon the king.

"You were going to go out, out into the moon-lit night."

"Yes," Tain said.

Even Clarion looked shocked by the admission. Good. He had wanted that look, and the chance to distance Clarion from his actions.

"You admit your treason --"

"No, father. No. I admit that I am willing to look for aid in places you fear to go, that's all."

Oh, that drew a different look from the man. It even drew a shifting movement from the guards. His father finally took a step forward. Clarion started closer as well, but Tain signaled him back, and even that wasn't lost on the older man. The King saw pieces of his power slipping away, even here within these walls. Tain had the control of the princes. He might even have the guard, if he dared... but he didn't. Not tonight when he had other problems to confront. For the moment, though, he could at least plant the idea that he would be the one with a plan. That he would be the one to follow when the time did come.

"Tell me, father, what you intend to do about the trouble in the streets?" Tain asked. Straight out asked. He didn't think anyone had dared to do that before.

"I want the apprentice dead," the king said.

Tain suppressed a little shiver, because that line was a sure sign of madness. It had to be. "You can't believe, really believe, that the apprentice is behind this madness, do you?"

"We'll know when he's dead, won't we?" King Tascon said, looking into his son's face. That, at least, sounded slightly less crazy. Maybe even wise, all the way around. The people would always believe the apprentice was behind this trouble, and would point in that direction. "We'll know then. The apprentice must die before we shall be safe."

The King believed it, but Tain had the feeling that it was not the danger that walked the streets that his father feared. Just the apprentice. Had the old mage said or done something before he died that Tain had not heard about? It was possible. It was something to check into, that the mage had promised something evil.

Tain wanted to believe it.

And outside they heard the scream of battle, the cry of attack. Hell! He started toward the door, but Captain Julin stepped forward and shook his head, a subtle warning. He did not draw a weapon, and whatever reason he used to stay Tain's movement, the Prince thought it had nothing to do with what the King really wanted.

Or maybe he read far too much into his own position. A dangerous ledge to stand upon... The king did have the ear of the people. They agreed about the apprentice, whether they had good reason to or not.

"If whatever is out there destroys the People of the Night, where shall we find allies again?"

"Not there. Not ever there." The King looked past Tain, his head coming up in surprise.

Tain turned to see his mother coming into the hall. He hadn't expected to see her here, and it unsettled him. The Queen had long ago stopped leaving her private rooms except on certain state occasions. They had not had one of those in quite some time.

But she came down into the hall amid a flurry of ladies who carried scented and shielded candles. Zev and Micah followed her, clearly part of her train. For a moment Tain wasn't sure where she and his other two brothers stood.

"Let them go," the queen said. She still had the voice of authority. Tain wondered, suddenly, when he had stopped thinking of them in terms of parents, but rather just figureheads of power.

But looking at her now, he could see madness there as well, and he couldn't say that he liked having it backing him any more than he liked facing the king's own insanity.

The world had gone mad.

"You must let them go," she said again, stopping there at the edge of the room, as though she would not dare come closer. The king and queen had not been close in many years, not emotionally, but now Tain wondered what drove the wedge between them. Gods, what had happened, that it whispered here in their looks? That the trouble came to the surface now to this madness did not help at all.

And he could hear the sounds of battle still, growing less frantic. Gods protect... oh, that was madness too, but Tain still thought it. Gods protect the People of the Night.

"Let me go," Tain said, looking at his father.

"I cannot," King Tascon said, his voice strident, and he hardly even showed a moment of surprise when something yelled, too close beyond the walls. "I cannot. We dare not. The apprentice --"

"We will pay for that folly, one way or another, won't we?" the Queen said.

"I will have it dead," the King replied, his voice cold and hard.

And the Queen winced at those words. Tain hadn't expected that, and he didn't know what to make of her reaction either.

"Let them go, or it won't matter at all, will it?"

"Do you want..." the King began, and then stopped, shaking his head. He looked at Tain, his face gone red. "Go, then, fool. Go and be damned like your... Go."

Words said and unsaid. Tain watched as the king stalked away, leaving the guard behind with a wave of his hand. Odd, odd. Leaving Captain Julin for him? Giving him help?

The queen turned and left ahead of her husband, with Micah and Zev going with her -- though only after a quick signal from Tain. They need not all make this journey of madness. Not yet.

Something yelled again, outside in the world. Tain started to the door, Clarion -- white faced, but ready -- at his side. He paused only when Julin moved in first.

"Are you with me?" Tain asked. "I do not require that anyone step out there with me, Captain. Not you or any of your men. I cannot say that it is wise."

"Only desperate," Julin said, unsheathing his sword already. "And we understand desperation, Prince Tain. I don't want to ally with the People of the Night, but they have fought our enemies and killed them already haven't they? How many of the Wyrdbane have they killed?"

"I don't know. No one has told me."

"At least as many as the army," Julin said. "And yes, I'm willing to go out with you. I can't guarantee the others. Gods help us all, Prince Tain -- this is not a time to hold back, even from madness."

Tain nodded. He put his hand on the door, pushed it open -- why had he been holding his breath? Had he been expecting to die in that moment when he threw all caution to the wind and stepped out into the moonlight?

Maybe so. Maybe he had even thought at least it would be the fast way out of this never-ending nightmare. But he lived through the dozen steps and out into the processional. Shadowed statues stood on both sides of him, and he could imagine them, in this moment when he stood in forbidden moonlight, coming alive and damning him for this folly. Tain didn't look up into the faces.

He looked back only once, glad to find Clarion still with him, as well as Julin, as well as the other guards. They looked less uncertain than he did. Good.

However, by the time they reached the edge of the cliff the battle had been fought, and the best they could do was chase off a few of the Wyrdbane who had looked to follow after the People down into their tunnel.

He saw Clarion looking, eyes gone wide, danger forgotten in that moment as he saw the glowing city of light, just before the sea spread its veil back over the view, and it was lost again to man.

But he had seen. And when he looked to Tain, his older brother could see something unexpected in that stare. Longing. He had seen the forbidden and knew it had been beautiful. There was no going back.

Chapter Six

When Phaedra and the others brought Brother back, wounded and near death, Dacey remembered that this friend had saved him from the Wyrdbane.

He came from the bed so quickly that Phaedra started to draw her dagger, and then backed away in haste when he kept coming toward her, heedless of the metal. But he went past her and to Brother, carefully putting his hands on the wounds and casting the first spell he had ever truly spoken.

Good that he used his power to help a friend... the magic passed through his hand and felt warm, comforting. He felt alive for it, and blessed...

"Dacey," Phaedra said with a hand on his shoulder. "Enough. You'll only make your own injuries worse again."

He slowly pulled back, his eyes once more focusing on Brother, who looked better now. Others of the People came to help him, and Dacey backed away, surprised to see that Tristan, Abby and Silver had come in while he worked.

He had felt... real, for the first time in a long time. He had felt complete. It stunned him to think that magic had really come to mean so much to him, even though he hadn't been able to touch it until now.

"You didn't have to do that, Dacey," Phaedra said as she looked into his face. "We have healing magics of our own. Nonetheless, thank you."

"It was only right, Lady Phaedra," he answered softly. "I owed Brother a debt for the day he saved me from the Wyrdbane."

"It seems you've awoken at last," she said and smiled brightly. "And you found your voice again. Good."

"What happened?" Abby asked, dread in his voice.

"We came from the sea and stepped into a trap," she said. "Wyrdbane and other creatures were laying in wait, hidden behind a magical shield that I did not see until far too late. The Djinn moved with them, directing them. I assume that was the Kiya's hand upon our world. She seems to warp humans into something very cruel."

"No," Silver said. "She only brings out that part of them that is still animal and heartless."

"You should not be so hard on your kind," Abby said. He put a hand on Silver's arm. "There are worse crimes than being born a man."

Dacey looked at Abby and almost asked what he thought could be worse, but he kept his silence. He owed Abby at least that much politeness.

"The Kiya moves to draw Abby and me out," Tristan said. "She knows that without the powers you gather each night from the moons, this city will fall --"

"Not for a long, long while," Phaedra reassured them, and put a hand on Dacey's shoulder, calming him. "Very many midnights will pass before we are in any danger."

"How long shall you delay?" Tristan asked. "The Kiya is patient. She won't go away. She is like us, Lady Phaedra. Time means nothing more than waiting to her."

Abby nodded, looking grim, but determined. "No, we dare not stay here any longer. It's time to face her. She's acquired enough power already."

"Tonight?" Phaedra said, shocked.

"Now," Abby replied. "Tristan and I shouldn't have waited this long. I just... the peace here is seductive. I should not have hidden for so long and let her plan while I slept."

"I'm going with you," Dacey said. He faced them with more strength of purpose than he thought he could muster just yet. And they looked at him, ready to tell him he could not, until Abby nodded agreement. Reluctant agreement, but it relieved Dacey of that fear he'd still harbored... that they would not need him, that he would cause them more trouble than the help he could give.

"And I'm going with Dacey!" Silver quickly added, stepping closer to his friend.

"You can't hope to win," Phaedra said, appalled.

Do you think it will be better if we wait?" Abby asked and gave a surprising smile.

"No," She said hesitantly. "But it's dangerous, Abby."

"Oh, I know the danger, Lady. This is my war." He lifted his head and looked her fully in the face. Dacey had never seen Abby do that before, and it had strangely chilling effect on him, as though he could see a sudden change, as if Abby were something entirely different from what they thought, and that he hid himself from them. "Lady Phaedra, I know the danger better than anyone. I must recover the staff and sword now. I know you've managed to lure them into your city with magic... I have heard her calling to me."

"Hard to miss your Janin," Phaedra said with a laugh. "She is not happy, you know. Although, I think we intrigue her. I see her watching me whenever I go near."

"She's been well behaved, all in all," Tristan said. He smiled a little. "Maybe she's learning a bit more about life as well."

"Growing up, like I have?" Abby asked with a little laugh. Tristan reddened. Must be interesting, Dacey thought, to have such contact. "No, you do not need to say it, friend."

Phaedra finally led them out of the room, though she looked reluctant again. Dacey watched as Abby and Tristan stepped out into the bright, glass-like hall. They did not look like people who wanted to go to war. Phaedra followed, and Silver and Dacey right behind them, away from the safety Dacey had come to accept.

Dacey finally saw more than the walls of his room. Light and glass surrounded him, and he could see into the ocean on all sides. It startled him at first, and then delighted him as fish swam close to the walls, watching. When the others slowed, he dared to put his hand to the cool wall, and grinned as a fish followed the trail of his fingers.

"Do you feel up to this, Dacey?" Silver asked.

"I have to go." He looked away from the fish and back at Silver. For a moment he imagined that he understood how Abby felt -- always going toward war, and never able to accept peace when someone offered it. "Silver, you are not required to go any farther with me. You seem to have found peace. Stay here."

"No." He shook his head and smiled wistfully as he slowed his pace to Dacey's. The others had begun to move farther ahead, but Dacey knew they wouldn't go too far. "Mage, I am only a man, and this isn't my world. I'm only hiding because my own people will cast me out as fast as they did you. So be it. I don't fight this battle for them, only to prove to other friends that not all men are cowards."

"They wouldn't let you remain here if you weren't already accepted," Dacey said.

"No, I am only allowed to remain because I am here with you, Abby and Tristan. I can't to win their trust for myself, Dacey."

"Come on, or they're likely to leave us both behind."

Silver laughed agreement, but paused long enough to grab Dacey's arm in a tight, friendly hold. "We were worried about you. I never -- never hoped to hear you speak to me. It's a wonder."

"I never hoped to have a friend," Dacey said. "Until Abby freed me, I was alone."

"How did he do that?" Silver asked.

He told me... I must speak," Dacey said, and looked ahead at where Abby and Tristan walked. "I don't know what he is, but when he commanded me, I couldn't disobey. And I know I shall follow him to any danger."

"He'd be appalled if he knew you felt that way," Silver said.

"I know." Dacey hurried forward, intending to catch up. When he thought about Abby, strange images rose within him; green eyes that did not see, swirling stars, gold and lace; blood red and darkest night -- he saw many things within Abby, but he understood nothing. Dacey looked up and found that Abby and Tristan had stopped to look back at him. He could see the same emotions in both faces; echoes within echoes, mirrors seeing only other mirrors. Dacey couldn't tell what either of them felt.

"Dacey," Abby said, taking one step closer... and then stopped when Dacey held up his hand. He still wore too much metal and it burnt. "I'm sorry. I forgot. I just want to be certain you are up to this."

"You need me. The Kiya knew that. Let's go. Our friends rely on what we can do."

"I have grown tired of drawing innocents down with me," Abby said, and glanced at Tristan.

"This is my world. I am sure Tristan fights for his own reasons."

"The staff and sword are down here," Phaedra said and waved down a short hall. "Abby and I will get them, and I will find us weapons and cloaks. And then I will take you out. No, say nothing, Abby. I will not be dissuaded any more than Dacey could be. Like him, this is my world."

When Abby returned with the Janin in his hand, and the sword at his side, he seemed a different person again. Dacey watched him for a moment, trying to judge the change. Odd that he did not see the same change in Tristan this time. He had seemed such a mirror of Abby only a short time before.

The air grew very cold as they left the city of magic. They walked along a corridor between walls of sea while the wind blew hard, sprinkling snow down across them. Dacey pulled his cloak up tighter and tried not to shiver at the remembrance of so many comfortless winter days. Silver walked beside him, and he glanced at his friend. They had both changed so much since the last time they walked in the land of men.

Phaedra paused and they huddled together while it seemed the corridor changed direction before them.

"How long were we down there? I have no idea how much time has passed."

"Eight days," Silver said. "Even with the magic they used, you were slow to recover."

Dacey rubbed his fingers across a scar on his right wrist, and then drew the hand back, shaking his head. He didn't want to remember the burning of that clamp around his arm. "Are you ready, my lord Abby?"

"I'm ready. And it's only Abby," he answered and winced -- and Tristan did the same. Dacey suddenly understood. It wasn't that the title didn't fit, but rather that Abby didn't want to be reminded of some part of his life. Dacey dared to look up and meet those green eyes again for the first time since the night when Abby commanded him to speak. He saw friendship, longing, fear -- a dozen other things, none of which truly hid that he was something else.

"I'm leading us down the shore, away from the city," Phaedra said. "I'm sure your Kiya will find us quickly enough, but I hope to be out of the water first this time."

"The Kiya may be expecting us, but no more than we will be expecting her," Abby said. The Janin began to sing more loudly in his hand, but he quieted her again. Dacey looked at her, at the face shrouded in shadow, although the blue eyes still glittered with light. Dacey marveled at what the world where Abby and Tristan came from must be like, with magic even for this...

As they walked the walls of sea began to recede beside them... shoulder, waist, knee, and ankle. They finally stood on the shore where the hard winds blew, and bright moonlight reflected against the icy buildings and the shapes of the city, not so far away. Even the Janin held her breath and listened for a moment. Dacey paused, fighting against the urge to race back into the tunnel. He thought, perhaps, that the others watched to see how he would react. He stepped forward instead.

But then he looked back at the sea... feeling something far worse than the need to run. Moonlight caught a shape, a flash of light... metal --

"Trap!" he said and spun, chanting even before he realized he had begun to spell cast. Like the healing spell with Brother, this one sprung like a second nature within him. He knew enough to realize it had never been this easy for Gregor.

He had cast the fire ball that rose out over the sea and sat there fueled by the air and giving them a clear view of the dozen armed creatures that rose from the sea dripping with ice and water as they snarled and leapt toward them, their claws and swords equally dangerous.

"More Wyrdbane!" Phaedra cried out and drew her own weapon. "There have never been so many in all the history of Dodano."

"The Kiya," Abby and Tristan chorused, and then Abby continued, even as he watched the enemy race toward him. "Her influence."

The creatures had not slowed. Silver put himself between Dacey and the creatures and fought them back with unexpected viciousness. Dacey saw no mercy in the soldier, and knew that was best. These animals wanted the kill. Dacey fought with bits of magic and watched the others lest they needed his help. He found uses for his magic -- lightning that sent the creatures soaring back into the sea, where he could not see if they lived or died.

He reminded himself that they couldn't be saved. Their minds had become as animal as their bodies, and there could never be a return to men again after the loss of so much humanity, and the instinct of the pack had taken over.

Too many, though -- one got past Silver, but Phaedra leapt to help, and Dacey had barely taken a step back before the creature lay dead at his feet. However, Silver had taken a bad cut across his chest, and Dacey started forward to help him.

"No! Stay back," Silver said, startling him. "I'm carrying a sword again!"

Dacey looked at the sword in his hand and wondered if that should hold him from helping. But then he looked past Silver to where Abby and Tristan fought. Two of the creatures had gotten past Abby. He leapt forward to help, with Silver and Phaedra so close that the weapons did burn... but he didn't care.

Tristan fought with his eyes closed. Blind... he remembered that now out of the nightmare when Silver rescued him. Gods. His heart beat faster as he raced across the icy shore to help.

Chapter Four

Abby saw nothing of the other battles, and felt only the power of the Janin in one hand and Gods' Honor in the other. He tried to lose himself in the killing rage, but he could sense nothing of Tabor or Gix here. It would have helped.

The three he fought matched him swing for swing. He thought the Kiya must have set the three best against him, which made her a fool. His allies were far more dangerous than him.

Phaedra helped him kill the last, and as the creature fell dead before him, he felt the full weight of the battle he'd fought. He went to his knees as his head pounded. His side bled and the world spun around him... but Tristan pulled the sword from his hand and laid his cool fingers on Abby's forehead just above the stone-set crown.

"Tristan," he whispered, grateful and afraid.

"It's all right," Tristan told him, a whispered reminder that they stood in moonlight. And then Abby knew that he spoke to the others. "He'll be fine in a moment."

"You gave him your own strength," Phaedra said.

"Yes, but I can draw on magic, and he cannot," Tristan said and stopped Abby's own protest with his logic. "Better to have him on his feet."

"Yes, you're right," Phaedra said. Abby lifted his head to see how worried she looked. "We shouldn't stay here."

"The battle showed us too plainly," Dacey agreed. He looked at Silver and that wound, but it seemed that Phaedra had the same idea. She had gone to deal with it already, despite Silver's protest. "Don't argue with her. We need strength. We need to get away from here. Obviously they are drawn by magic, and followed the tunnel through the sea."

"Which way should we go?" Phaedra asked when she had finished. "Up into the hills, or along the shore to the city?"

"Both," Abby said. "That might just confuse her. After all, she is not the full staff -- she cannot have that much intelligence -- though I suspect that she's a larger piece than we've had to deal with before. Tristan and I will move carefully toward the city. Dacey and Silver should go to the hills --"

"I can't --" Dacey began, and then stopped. "Oh. I guess I can. Gregor's other spell has obviously been broken as well. I could not leave the city before. But since I went to the city in the sea, that obviously is no longer a problem."

"True," Phaedra said and smiled.

"But still, I know the city better," Dacey said.

"And I fear I would get lost in the hills," Abby said. "Do you know the trails, Silver?"

"I do," he said. But he frowned, as though he knew that Abby wanted him and Dacey away from any danger.

"I do not want us all together. Yes, I hope that she tries for Tristan and me. I hope that you will come to our help if we need it... but I don't want to fall into another trap like this."

"You know your Kiya better than we do," Dacey said. He looked toward the city and nodded. "And she feared you. That gives me all the reason I need to follow your plan."

Abby accepted his words, although he wondered if there weren't other reasons that Dacey didn't question him. He didn't ask. He wasn't certain what Dacey saw in him after Abby had given him his voice.

"Lady Phaedra?" Abby said, turning to her. She met his look. "I have something I want you to do that you will not like."

"Oh?"

"I want you to return to your city and your people."

"No."

"Please at least hear why," he said, lifting a hand before she protested again.

She frowned, but nodded with obvious reluctance. Abby still wasn't certain of her status with the People of the Night, but he had begun to realize that very many of them listened to her. She plainly wasn't used to listening as well.

"I think my plan to split us up might confuse the Kiya and force her to use more power to find us. She might be weakened, and she might be easier to take. Or perhaps not. I should like to think that all I would have to do is survive until the moons rise for help to come."

She met Abby's even stare and held it through a long silence. When she at last nodded, Abby actually sighed with relief and Tristan smiled. It was not often that he asked others to follow his plans. It made him nervous.

"We best part quickly," Silver said and took a step closer to Dacey.

"Be careful," Abby said. "She might try to take you. If she does, we'll know magic is being used and we'll come as quickly as possible. I want to test her limitations and draw her out at her weakest. But that makes her dangerous during the testing."

"I'll do my best to keep Dacey safe," Silver said.

"I am not without my own powers," Dacey said, and that seemed to surprise Silver again. "Abby, we'll meet you at dawn, if we can, by the gate of the palace where you first arrived. Can you find it again?"

"Yes. But won't the people protest?"

"Yes, I suspect that they will. But we have to help them, Abby, and we can't do that by hiding any longer. We have to protect them, whether they accept or not."

Abby looked at him and smiled. Gods, the boy had woken up well. He nodded. "Agreed. Go. Good luck."

They turned and started away into the cold dark night. Phaedra looked at the moons and frowned, but then she turned to head back into the sea as well. It was the best Abby could do to keep his new friends safe.

Chapter Five

Dacey and Silver quickly started away along the path that led away from the city. Though he wanted to argue Abby out of this, like Phaedra he had seen that there was no use. Dacey even wondered if there was a reason why he should logically worry about the two. They had, by all accounts, faced great odds and won.

Ah, but Dacey had magic of his own, and even now he used it to follow the other two in his mind. Silver led them along a path that quickly became more treacherous as they headed into the low hills along the edge of the city. He felt odd going here, where he had been forbidden to travel for so long. Everything changed.

Silver walked in silence, a soldier well trained and knowing that unnecessary noise only tended to draw trouble. Dacey kept silent for his own reasons. Speaking just to speak still felt odd to him. He would rather listen, and in truth right now he found the journey across the icy stones and slick trails fast wearing him down. He had been ill, and now the exertion began to take its toll, even more than the little magic he used to sense his other friends.

When he slipped on an icy rock and went down on one knee, Silver looked back. He must have seen the exhaustion in Dacey's face, and quickly scrambled back to him before Dacey could stand again. Silver held him down.

"Rest," Silver said.

"We shouldn't --"

"Don't argue," Silver said. He sat down beside him. "I'm tired, and I imagine that for you it must be worse."

"Tired," Dacey agreed. He sat on the ice slick stone where the wind had blown away the snow, feeling the bitter cold in the dark night for the first time. The moons stood over them, feeding him power that he could channel into false strength. It would not last forever, but it helped for now.

When he looked at Silver, his friend smiled. "You look better," he said. Then he looked at the sky. "I suppose that helps, the fact that the moons are high."

"It does." He started to stand and accepted Silvers help. "You seem different, Silver. Changed."

"And you aren't?" he said. But then he shrugged. "All the world is changed, mage. The Kiya has done that, more intimately for me, and in general ways for the rest of the world. She made my simple, magic-less world unsafe, and showed me all the lies my people have told themselves. Dacey, I never told you but... I was with the soldiers who took Gregor. Forgive me. I've felt so guilty about it since I met you that I couldn't even bring myself to confess."

"We lived in a different world then," Dacey said, repeating Silver's sentiment. He stopped himself from rubbing at scars again. "Silver, though I would never have wished such a horrible death on old Gregor, he was no friend of mine. I was only a slave to him, and though I learned my magic, he never meant for me to use it. I'd still be speechless -- or more likely dead -- if chance hadn't brought Abby to our world. Gregor could never have counted on something like this freeing me. And he did not make the spell that bound me to the city and took my voice dependent on his life. He wanted me to die with him."

"Then why did he take an apprentice?" Silver said, confused.

"Slave," Dacey repeated. "Someone with whom he need not hide his magic, and someone who could copy the old spells. I learned the words and movements by watching. I am a mage only by accident and chance."

"Your parents surely didn't know what they were selling you too --"

"They knew I was going to magic," Dacey said. He had gasped for breath, and Silver paused again at the next rise. "They knew what they were sending me to."

Silver gave him a curious glance, looked away, and climbed a few more feet without comment. Then, finally, he looked back. "Dacey, do you remember them?"

"Yes."

"You know who your parents are. You could find them in the city?"

"Yes," he said again, and couldn't keep the coldness from his voice.

("Trust me...")

"I'm sorry, Dacey. I won't ask any more. Look, there's a ridge a few more yards up. We'll rest there for the night where we can watch the city. Come on, we both need to sit down. I trust you have some link on Abby and Tristan?"

Dacey grinned suddenly. "Very good," he said and bowed his head. "I'm not sure if Abby and Tristan realize it, but yes. I want to know if they run into trouble."

"And you know that they sent us here to keep us away from it."

"Yes."

"Good. I just wanted to be certain of where we stood."

"We are back up -- more immediate than anything Phaedra might give them. It's a good plan, really. There is no reason why all of us needed to run straight into the heart of danger."

"Then let's rest." Silver cleared snow from the area and helped Dacey sit in the crevice out of the wind, which didn't seem to bother Silver quite so much. Soldier. Friend.

The world did, indeed, change.

Chapter Six

"You feel empathy with Dacey," Tristan said aloud.

The soft words startled Abby. He hadn't realized how deep into his own thoughts he'd been until just then. Tristan had been there, hovering at the edges of his mind like a bird before a window -- seen and seeing, but still untouched. He pulled himself back from worries that Tristan had obviously followed well enough.

"He worries me," Abby admitted. "He's so --"

"Like you were, once," Tristan replied.

"Yes," Abby said. He tried not to feel bitter. "Like I once was."

"You can't keep him safe," Tristan said. They had nearly reached the edge of the dark town. That had been why Tristan called him back now...unwise to walk in there without paying closer attention. "And you can't keep him ignorant or innocent... mostly because he is neither. You do realize that he has put a watching spell on us, don't you?"

Abby looked at his friend with such shock that Tristan laughed. "He did?"

"Of course he did. He knows what we're going to do. He hopes, I suspect, that we really won't need him and Silver. But he doesn't trust to our powers so well that he'll risk his world to them."

"Ah, wise," Abby said. He looked ahead at the city -- so dark and silent it could have been deserted. "How shall we keep Silver and Dacey safe?"

"There is no way that we can because they are part of this madness as surely as all of our other friends have been down through the travels we've made. Don't try to push Dacey aside from a battle that he was meant to fight."

"You're right," Abby agreed, though he still felt unhappy about the revelation. "I'm sorry I've been so distant. I don't know where my mind has been."

"Too many battles, too soon," Tristan said with a sigh. "I had thought the time spent in Phaedra's city would help, but we both just continued to dread leaving."

"Yes," Abby agreed. "I only want --"

Quiet!

The word came to his mind, stronger and quicker than Tristan could have spoken it aloud. He stopped, standing by his friend and listened to the distant sound of something coming toward them. Nothing good should have been out in the moons' light.

Abby moved with Tristan down the paths, quietly... ah, but the Janin continued to hum and she turned recalcitrant when he ordered her silent. She'd been left alone too long, and she felt wild in his hands, the song growing in the otherwise silent night.

Leave her, Tristan silently suggested, perhaps only to avoid her anger if he said it aloud. Let her draw those who are coming after us.

Abby nodded. They had found their way to an open green somewhere in the city, and he had no trouble pushing the Janin into the soil. Tristan took his arm and pulled him back into shadows even before she began to protest.

Oh and did she protest. Loudly.

But Abby watched movement grow down the street, and he heard an odd keening sound, and the scratch of claws on stone.

What are they? Abby asked, listening through Tristan who had such better hearing than he did.

I don't know. Magic. Watch.

The creatures came out of the dark and into the moonlight... Not human. Nor were they Wyrdbane, though he had feared that at first. Long, silky fur hung from limbs and torso, and claws clicked rhythmically against the stone as the group came forward, some on two feet and some on four. At first he thought they were some type of strange local animals... but then he decided that they were more akin to human. He could see that some wore sashes, and a few carried weapons, though he suspected those long clawed hands that he saw were dangerous enough without knives as well.

The creatures moved slowly up toward the Janin, planted there and crying out in her lovely song. Abby started to move, but Tristan held him back a moment longer, silently watching.

They might touch her! No!

Abby leapt out of the shadows before Tristan could hold him back. He thought Tristan made a little sound of protest, but he didn't try to follow.

"Don't touch her!" Abby shouted as he rushed forward.

Some of the creatures screeched and some scattered, but one came forward, large eyes blinking at him as he neared.

"She'll hurt you if you touch her," Abby said. He tried not to shiver at the look of the inhuman eyes with diamond pupils and glittering. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," it whispered and looked to the Janin again. "Will not touch. I came to kill he who holds the staff."

Abby had started to reach for the Janin. He pulled his hand back quickly.

"Smart man," it said with a show of teeth that had far too many points.

"Why would you want to kill that person?"

“I am obligated to the one who freed us," it said and didn't look happy about it.

"You were imprisoned?" Tristan asked as he came forward.

Startled, the creature hissed and brought up a clawed hand, but Abby stepped between the two and Tristan offered empty hands and a smile. Apparently he thought these strange beings were not dangerous. Abby wasn't as certain.

"Quiet man," the creature admitted, and seemed impressed. "I did not know you were there."

"My pardon," Tristan said with a bow of his head. "I am Tristan and this is Abby."

"Tristan. Abby. I am Sellis Clawed One. And we were not imprisoned, we only slept. We must have slept for a long time, for the world is very changed. The djinn that awoke us broke a very old spell, and we owed it something in return."

"You owed it murder?" Abby said.

"Man used to hunt us for fur," Selis said, and swept a hand across his own arm. "They did not call it murder."

"I'm sorry," Abby said. "I didn't know. I'm not from your world. Forgive my ignorance."

"Not from my world?" Selis said. His head tilted and dark eyes blinked again. "Too many things have changed."

"At least we didn't have to fight you," Tristan said.

"Yet." Abby looked at the Janin.

"Leave her, Abby," Tristan said. Abby looked at him, startled. "She's a loss, but I would think the loss of you would be worse. The Kiya set this battle up. Don't let her win. We could avoid a battle this once, and I think that might be more to our good than hers."

"Ah. Wise elf," Abby said and nodded. "But what should I do about her? I can't just leave her here. The moons will go down..."

"The humans won't go near her, Abby. You know that. And we still have a few more hours before we need worry about her."

"True. And I think we should leave this spot. The djinn might be drawn by the Janin as well," Abby said. "Would you walk with us for a ways and tell us more about your world?"

Selis gave a gracious little bow and said something back to the others... a medley of hisses and words. They gathered, a dozen or more of the creatures looking at Abby and Tristan with curiosity.

They started away, Abby daring one last look back at the Janin. She cried out to him, and he knew that he couldn't leave her for long... but he walked away with these odd creatures, and hoped they could find a solution that did not include going to swords and claws.

Chapter Seven

"The moons are nearly down," Dacey said, looking out at the two orbs staring out from the edge of the distant, dark sea. The clear, bright water reflected the silver glow, and Dacey reached out to catch the last whisper of power he would see until they rose again. The night had gone too quickly in some ways.

"Shall we rest for a few hours more?" Silver asked.

"Yes. Come and sit down for a while. We'll need to go slower now. I can't draw strength from the moons any more."

Silver looked back at him, as though only now realizing that Dacey wasn't physically well enough for this jaunt through the world. "At least it will be downhill when we leave," Silver offered. "And we can stay here until right before dawn. I think we'll want to be in the city at first light, though. We'll be less conspicuous there. I wouldn't want to be spotted out here, and hunted through the day."

"Good point," Dacey said. "I wonder if the guard has been out at night at all."

"I don't know," Silver said. "We should have asked Phaedra and Brother. But it was like... I didn't want to know what was going on out there. I didn't want anything to do with the city again."

"You should have stayed," Dacey said. He leaned back and tried to get as comfortable as he could, given the hard ground and the chill air.

"I couldn't stay. I couldn't turn my back on them. And neither could you, right?" Silver looked back at him and smiled. "Rest, Mage. I'll keep the watch for a while longer."

"You need rest, too."

"This battle won't be won by a soldier's skill," Silver said. "I'm not the one who can help Abby and Tristan. It's you she wanted dead. So if you rest now, I'll feel better."

Dacey started to argue again, and changed his mind as the moons disappeared, and the night grew dark and colder. Abby had been right to send Phaedra back, but at this moment it felt very lonely out here with only Silver by his side, and Abby and Tristan trying to draw the war down upon themselves. Having a guard wouldn't hurt.

Dacey laid his head back against the stone wall. This felt little different than the hard stone of the ruins where he'd spent many nights not so long ago. No, the world hadn't changed that much after all, had it? The days of torture came back too clearly in the dark. He could remember it too well -- far more clearly than the time spent with the People of the Night. It was as though nothing stood between that endless time in the hands of his enemies and now.

"You don't look like you're resting," Silver admonished.

"It all seems like yesterday to me," Dacey whispered. He rubbed at his left wrist, trying not to remember the feel of iron burning into his skin, fire that burnt but never consumed him.

"I suspect that some of the wounds will never heal," Silver said softly. "I'm sorry, my friend."

Dacey smiled so brightly that Silver looked at him with confusion now.

"I never had a friend before, you know. Talk to me, Silver. I'll rest better than if I think about... other things."

Silver looked out at the city and then stepped closer to him again. "I used to keep the guard on nights like this," he said with a shrug. "Guarded it against you and your kind -- I can't believe how changed I've become in so short a time. I feel like I was blind. I wonder what became of my mother and sister. I'd make it up to them, but -- well, when they learn I'm not dead but with you, Abby and Tristan, I doubt they'll claim me again.

"Outcast," Dacey said. "I'm sorry."

"What would I go back to anyway? A lifetime with the guards until I retired, or died young of pneumonia, like my father did? Dark nights hiding in darker houses, praying to the Gods for aid every time a breeze stirred a branch touching the cottage. By the Gods, I have watched the People of the Night dance, and I've heard the dirge... and felt more akin to them than I ever had with my own people!"

Dacey looked up, smiling again at the rush of emotions that he'd never seen in his friend before now. "I felt the same way with the People of the Night, but then I was already an outcast."

"Ah, but the People may not want me either."

"Silver --"

"We can only wait and see. There is, of course, the very distinct possibility that I won't survive anyway. That's the easiest answer to all my problems, but for once I'm hoping for complications."

Dacey laughed. He felt better, and relaxed at last. They had enough to worry about in the near future. He needn't dwell on what had passed.

"We feared for you, mage. I feared for you -- it's good to hear you so alive again. I wish that you had stayed safe with Phaedra, but I know that you couldn't."

"I think you see more than I realized," Dacey said.

"All of you tend to forget that I understand this battle very well. The Kiya held me, body and soul, and I wished myself dead then, and thought it would be so when I faced you. Her evil still gives me nightmares, and I feel her angers, desires and hungers. She didn't fear anything, except for you and Abby. And I think Abby has shown himself to be far more powerful than I thought at first. He made you speak, and that was no little trick. And though I've only seen you use your powers a little, I'm assured that they are dangerous enough to stop her."

"Why do you think so?" Dacey asked, because he had no such feeling himself.

"The Kiya reassured me. She wanted you dead. She feared you." He paused and looked down at the city. "What's that!"

Dacey leapt to his feet, and then went back to his knees with dizziness.

"I'm sorry!" Silver caught Dacey by the arms and pulled him back up. "But look down there. What are those lights?"

"Fire," Dacey said. And then he lifted his hand, reaching with his magic to sense what he feared he would find. He was right. "And magic, of course."

The fire began leaping up in a dozen places, straight needles of blue and red light that reached for the sky. He squinted and could see smaller fires spreading in a circle, linking the other fires. Damn.

"I can guess where Abby and Tristan are," Silver said and started down the hillside. "Right in the middle of that circle! And the fires are closing in!"

"Wait!" Dacey caught his arm and pulled Silver back, both of them nearly falling. "We'll never make it there in time!"

The fires had already grown brighter, closing in with unnatural speed. Dacey closed his eyes, stilled the fear within him, and began to chant, his hands moving in the symbols he had learned -- he didn't even have to wonder if he had gotten it right. He knew...

The power came quickly to his call and he opened his eyes when he felt the first strong, warm breeze blow against his face. Lightning flashed across the sea. Silver jumped at the sight, and the ground trembled with unexpected thunder as the clouds rolled in like smoke...

Rain fell.

Silver looked at him with eyes gone wide, reaching out quickly to keep Dacey from slipping as the deluge turned the path to mud. Snow had turned to slush and melted away in a matter of heartbeats.

"I'm as surprised as you are, Silver," he said, a little breathless. "I only wanted a little rain in hopes that it would slow the fire and give us a chance to help them."

"We're all going to drown!" Silver laughed suddenly.

"The sea may get a second city, at least," Dacey added and grinned. At least the rain felt warm. And he wasn't sorry to see the winter get washed away.

"The People of the Night wouldn't like the new neighbors. When is it going to stop?"

"I don't know. When it runs out of rain?"

Silver shook his head and looked at the sky. Water washed down his face. Then he looked back at Dacey and shrugged. "Well, at least this confirms my suspicions about your powers."

"Perhaps we should go down and see if we can help Abby and Tristan now," Dacey said. He could no longer see any hint of the fires, but he feared that his friends were in danger still.

"I don't know." Silver looked down the hillside, lost in the dark. "Maybe we should stay to high ground."

Dacey laughed and started along the path, heading back down toward the city.

Chapter Eight

Abby and Tristan had walked straight into the trap. They knew they would, sooner or later, and hadn't been unprepared. However, the sight of the huge, hairless creature that stood before them surprised both for a moment. It looked dirt brown against the snow, and wore a covering made of roots, branches and leaves. The creature stood so tall it could look over the buildings nearby. Eyes of gold glared down at them, and teeth of granite showed in a wide, dangerous mouth.

And there, like a little twig almost lost in the mass of other branches, the Kiya rested against its chest. This looked like a larger piece than Abby had chased before, and he thought that might explain both the intelligence and the power.

"So there you are," Abby said first, forcing more bravery into his voice than he felt.

"You toy with your life, bastard," the creature growled, and the ground shook with its voice.

"I think my birth rates a little better than bastard," Abby answered. "Prince or demigod surely. Choose which one you prefer."

He even shocked Tristan with that one, but the reminder of his old life was not going to weaken him this time. He had traveled too far from Ylant to believe that a title meant anything to anyone here.

Keep her busy, Abby. She has enshrouded the creature with magic, but I might be able to work my way through and get the Kiya.

He saw derision in the creature's face. "Prince or demigod. One without land, and the other without power. Ah, bastard, the terms are meaningless."

"Are they? Perhaps I shall prove one of them has meaning," Abby said and looked up into the face.

It looked away. "You don't carry the staff. Ah wise. I did make the command too ambiguous. But I feared they would not know you any other way. Still, that deprives you of power, doesn't it?"

"I've little use for staves these days."

It chuckled, but her laugh sounded grotesque in this creature's body. The hands moved, but Abby slipped out of the way.

"Magic -- it's called up magic, Abby," Tristan said, coming up beside his friend. "I can't get through."

"Ah, but I kept you busy for a little while, didn't I elf?"

Abby felt a chill at those words. And when the djinn spread its arms wide Abby grabbed Tristan back. Sellis moved closer to them as well -- to late to send it away, though the other of its companions were not to be seen.

"Traitor. I could crush all three of you," the Djinn said, taking a step forward, the ground shaking. "You should never have sided with man."

"I choose my sides by the good and evil," Sellis said.

"And die for your choice," the Djinn said. "Ah, you thought it safe, the moons are down."

"I knew there was no safety with you on this world," Abby replied.

"True." It lifted a hand, dirt falling around them in the movement.

Warmth. Abby felt that first, and heard the fire -- the flames spreading quickly as other fires leapt up all around them. The fire melted away the snow, heat and smoke burning with each breath. Abby charged toward the djinn, pulling his sword, hoping --

But the creature began to slip down into the ground, throwing up all the dirt and rock as it went. Abby still caught it at the neck, his fingers grabbing skin that felt like leather. He had almost brought the sword around when a boulder hit him across the shoulder and he tumbled, breathless to the ground. Tristan pulled him back just as the head disappeared, gold eyes glaring at them.

The heat grew intense, and Abby gasped for breath, trying to find a way through the circle of flame that closed in on them. Tristan tried to cast a spell that would part the fire, but it only grew brighter and hotter where he directed his power.

"The fire is magic fed," Tristan said. He coughed and pushed Abby back down to the ground. "Rain --"

"The sky is clear," Sellis said, dropping down on all fours. Odd, Abby thought. The creature's legs seemed to shorten and his arms lengthen in that moment.

"Clear." Tristan agreed. But he raised his hand and called up his own powers.

Fire leapt out of the circle at his hand. Tristan hardly had time to cry out as he halted his own spell.

"I can't even ward," he whispered, clutching his injured hand to his chest. Abby had done the same out of reflex and forced himself to stop. It was not his injury even if they did share the pain. "I'm sorry Abby. She's more intelligent than I expected."

"Larger," he said. He gasped for breath. "I fear... I fear I must ask for help --"

Lightning flashed across the sky. Thunder followed so loudly that the ground shook as though the djinn had returned. In the next moment it rained.

Sellis looked up at the sky, oblivious to all else as the fires quickly died around them.

"Dacey," Abby said, taking slow breaths as the smoke and heat dissipated.

"Dacey," Tristan agreed. "Our mage has more power than I expected."

"Mage? Man's magic brought this storm?" Sellis said, looking back at them with shock. He shook water from the fur around his face. "I do not trust man with such magic."

"You need not fear Dacey," Abby said. He stood without the offered help from Tristan. "Can you heal your hand?"

"I fear I dare not," Tristan said. "Not until we can be certain that the spell is truly ended with the fire, and not just held at bay."

Abby nodded with reluctance and led the way past the smoldering flames and into the shadows of buildings again. They needed away from here, as quickly as they could manage to move.

"I wonder how long until the dawn," Tristan said. "And if we shall have trouble with any of the locals before then. They seem to have stayed in their homes tonight."

"Wiser than I expected," Abby said. "But I think we learned all we could tonight. I fear you and I are not going to be strong enough to take this piece of Kiya without help."

"I know," Tristan said. He had already accepted that they would need the others, just as they had at every other world. "Help from Phaedra and any other of the People of the Night who will join us."

"Phaedra," Sellis said. He looked at them, rain running down his blunt-nosed face. "You deal with Phaedra?"

"We deal with anyone who will oppose evil," Tristan said. "I suppose the People are old enemies?"

"Not entirely," he said. "We were allies in the war."

"The war between man and the People?" Tristan asked.

"The war between man and all who were touched by magic. We allied with the People. The humans would not have us, except to wear."

"Then if you were allies --"

"We were until the day they made us sleep," Sellis said. He shook rain from his face again. "They said it was because they would lose the war soon. We wanted to go into the killing frenzy and take as many men as we could with us. But the People made us sleep, instead -- saving humans. When the spell came, we vowed any gift within our reach to the one who awoke us."

"The People saved your lives then," Tristan said. "Can you be angry with them still after all these centuries?"

"For me, I went to sleep yesterday and awoke today. It is only a night, and the work of the People is still very fresh to me."

"Wonderful," Tristan said. Abby realized he was having trouble not slipping in the mud while he looked through Abby's eyes and tried to mimic his movements. All other senses seemed deadened, if not outright drowned, in this storm.

"We're not unreasoning creatures," Sellis said. "You need not fear that, Tristan. I saw the djinn with powers beyond its own, and I smell fear everywhere in the city. This is a war both man and People fight. If such bitter enemies have a common foe, I will not add to the problem."

"Most of the humans do not fight with us," Abby said. "But there are two -- Dacey and Silver -- who work with us. And even if the rest of these people would not... I still would not leave them to this enemy."

Sellis looked at him, large eyes blinking. Abby could see him, even in the darkness and rain, though little more than shapes and movement. Sellis looked up into the sky and shook his head. "My people are good swimmers. Are yours?"

"I hope not to find out," Abby said. "This can't go on much longer. I hope the Janin is safe."

"If she washes to the sea, there won't be much trouble getting her back again, providing we clear up this other little problem with Sellis and his people," Tristan said.

"I am obligated," Sellis said.

"We understand such things," Abby replied, waving away his embarrassment.

"Too well," Tristan said.

"You are bitter," Sellis said and looked into Tristan's face. Then he titled his head and looked at Abby, confused.

"Tristan is not bitter," Abby said. "Tristan accepts what we must do. I am bitter."

"And it shows in Tristan's voice?" Sellis said, no less confused.

Tristan put a hand to his forehead and brushed sodden hair from the crown. "Linked. Magic."

"Ah!" Sellis had no trouble accepting that idea. "Let us find some roof under which to rest a while. We can not stand at the palace gate until the sun rises."

"No, we can't. Staying anywhere seems unwise," Abby said. But he nodded before Tristan could protest. "But walking around until we fall senseless to the ground doesn't seem any wiser."

Sellis moved away from them, having far less trouble traversing the water-swept paths than Abby and Tristan. In a moment he returned, and led them to a low building with an easy wall to climb.

Abby gratefully accepted his offer to guard as well, allowing both Abby and Tristan to rest for the next few hours. Since Dacey and Silver had gone to the hills, they would need the time to come down and traverse the city to the shore and the palace. Waiting up here, though not out of the rain, at least seemed safer than standing in the deluge and being swept away by the rising floodwater. The rain did not stop.

Sellis eventually roused them, saying that the sun would rise soon. He helped them down to the street where treacherous streams ran through the narrow paths of stone buildings. Had they been built of wood, Abby thought they would have been washed away by now.

He thought he could hear people, the whisper of words behind windows, and maybe a few on roofs. Abby and his companions could not be seen on the street in the dark, he hoped.

"At least our friend the djinn doesn't appear to like the weather much, either," Abby said softly. "I had no idea that Dacey could pull such power."

"Neither did I," Tristan agreed. "We're lucky he's on our side. We better get to the gate before Dacey and Silver arrive, or they'll fear the worst has happened to us."

"Your mage is powerful," Sellis said. He didn't look happy.

"Apparently so," Abby agreed.

A stream that had been frozen when they came this way the first day, now churned with water and rock. The bridge didn't look very sturdy, but Tristan cast a quick spell to steady it while they crossed. Some of Sellis's people had joined them again, though they didn't come too close. Abby could hear them though, the soft hiss of their alien words, the pad of four feet in the water. Sellis walked on two legs, but that seemed more out of politeness than anything.

They reached the palace gate just as the sun rose, a pale gray light that proved hardly enough to reveal the world around them. Abby looked around, frowning at the posts that looked empty.

"The guard's not out," Tristan said, and obviously didn't know if he should be relieved or not. "I wonder if they can sense the magic today."

"They know that something unnatural has happened," Tristan said. He leaned against the wall in a little alcove, his injured hand still held close to his chest. He'd done a good job of blocking most of the pain so that Abby didn't feel it, but he looked pale.

"Someone comes," Sellis warned, his eyes narrowing and his ears twitching for a moment.

Movement became shapes; two men staggering along the edge of the cliff. In a moment Abby could see that Silver helped Dacey, who looked as though each step took more energy than he could find. Abby pushed away from the wall, signaling Tristan back, and went to help Silver, who hardly looked any better.

"Dacey's' tired," Silver said, letting Abby take over. "I think he used too much --"

His mouth stayed open, but he said nothing. Abby realized he had spotted Sellis. He'd forgotten what effect their new ally would have on others.

"This is Sellis."

"Sellis. Ah. Sorry to have stared," Silver said.

Too trusting, Abby thought. Tristan silently agreed, though he seemed amused by that statement. Abby wasn't certain why.

"Dacey brought the storm," Silver said and looked up into the sky. He turned back to help Dacey, whom they pushed up against the wall by Tristan, Silver holding them there, though it might have been better if they just sat.

Or not. They might face danger far too soon.

"We are grateful for the storm," Tristan said. He leaned over and put his uninjured hand on Dacey's face. The mage didn't even seem to notice, his eyes closed his breathing short. "He's too cool, as though he hasn't enough strength left to even warm himself."

The elf bowed his head, and Abby could feel him gathering his own fleeting strength and giving some of it to Dacey. He almost protested, but stopped when he realized how close Dacey had been to total collapse. Dacey slowly responded. When he at last raised his head, his eyes still blinked with weariness. Nonetheless, he gently pushed Tristan away.

"Enough. It won't help to weaken you as well."

Tristan nodded. And now they had only to face the enemy.

Chapter Nine

When Dacey finally felt a part of the world again, he found that they stood outside the palace gate, and the rain still hadn't slackened. The rushing water sounded like streams pushing through the city, and he could see the wash of debris down over the cliff and into the sea.

"How long will it rain?" Abby asked, staring out into the deluge as he did.

I don't know," Dacey admitted. He shook his head, dismayed by the sight. "I don't think I have the strength to stop it."

"Then we let it rain a while longer," Tristan said. "Don't waste the power. And it has helped, not only to save Abby, Sellis and me, but also in keeping others busy and away from us. I am sorry if they suffer... but it is the lesser suffering. That fire would have destroyed most of the city, you know."

"Oh," Dacey said. He nodded and tried not to feel as guilty.

"Are we going to stand out here until the sea rises?" Silver asked. "Or just until one of the guard comes along and finds us?"

"It does look as though the djinn is not coming back," Abby said.

"Try not to sound so dejected about it," Silver said. "I think we can all use the rest before the next battle."

"Where's the Janin?" Dacey asked, and then looked up to find Sellis standing by Abby. "Gods! An Evin!"

"I am Sellis," he said with a quick bow and eying Dacey with curiosity before he looked back at Abby. "I will go now with my people, and we shall stay in the hills. We will be back in the night... or sooner if you take up that staff. Do you understand?"

"I do," Abby said. "Thank you. Be careful."

"And you," Sellis said. He bowed his head again, and then ran off into the rain and near dark. In a moment they could hear four feet splashing in the rising water.

"An Evin," Dacey repeated. "Even Gregor thought such creatures never really existed."

"They are allies, providing I do not pick up the Janin."

"We need to get out of the rain," Silver said again. "Perhaps... we can go..."

He looked toward the palace. Dacey felt his heart pounding and he must have paled. Abby caught hold of him.

"Are you all right?" Abby asked.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"We don't have to go there," Abby replied without any hint of disagreement. "These people can hardly be friends of yours, given what he allowed them to do."

("Trust me.")

"Ah, but at least they will not be allied with the djinn," Dacey said. "And there is no other building where we can find shelter, is there?"

"We could take over one," Abby replied and met his look. "I do not intend to rest in the mud and rain, nor do I think it safe for us to do so. We are going to fight a battle soon. We need strength."

"Yes," Dacey said. His voice didn't shake, but something churned inside of him, fighting to run. He wouldn't. He tried to force himself to stay calm. He stepped toward the gate looking inside -- and put his hand on the iron, pushing the hinge open.

Silver gave a cry of shock and surprise and pulled Dacey's hand back. A crisscross design of blood and burnt skin showed on his palm, but he didn't feel that pain at all.

"Dacey, you've gone mad!"

"I had to open it," he said. He didn't expect the others to understand. "Let's go."

They followed. Dacey had started out ahead, knowing this wasn't a walk he could make with their help. He looked at the building before them, across the long processional, lined with statues and the plaques. He wondered how many of the townspeople came here anymore. He'd heard for a long time that they thought the king had abandoned them. As they neared the palace they crossed an area awash with small streams and littered with leaves and mud. The palace became defined through the wall of falling rain; white stone against gray rain, pillars amid cascading waterfalls from the roofs. A dozen stairs of white marble led up to golden doors that seemed to glow even through the rain.

"Normally there would be two guards stationed on either side of the doors," Silver said, shaking his head. "Maybe there's no one inside."

"They're here," Tristan said. He tilted his head, eyes closed for a moment. Dacey could feel the whisper of magic he used... odd that he didn't need to call it up, but it did make him very much akin to the People of the Night.

"Let's see if we can get in out of the rain," Abby said, though he looked at Dacey with worry.

They went up the steps. For the first time in many hours they stepped out of the direct path of the falling rain. Tristan shook his head, scattering more water around them.

The others didn't slow as they neared the door, and Dacey had trouble staying in front of them. They wouldn't understand --

Silver tackled him before he laid his hands on the golden door, surprising Dacey who would have fallen back down the stairs if Abby hadn't caught him.

"We'll get the door open, Dacey," Abby said. He held him as though he expected Dacey to argue.

"The palace is warded," Tristan said. "I can get us past the ward without destroying it. Easier if someone on the inside lets us in, but I don't think that's going to happen."

Dacey felt a little shiver -- that could not be right, even though he knew truth -- had felt it long before now. But in a world where magic was shunned, how could the very palace be warded?

("Trust me...")

Tristan laid his hands upon the metal of the door. Dacey winced at the sight, even though he knew it would not hurt the elf. When Tristan bowed his head Dacey felt the passage of magic like a distant warm wind. He wanted to touch that magic that could move against metal without payment in pain. His hand ached where he had pushed the gate open... but he had gone through it on his own, and that had been a test none of the others could understand.

Although, very soon, they might.

Tristan looked up and nodded, pushing at the door. It came open with a slight protest of wet hinges. Dacey took a deep breath and started forward, Silver quick to take his place beside him. Dacey wanted to warn him away. They were going before the king, and standing at the mage's side would not be safe. Ah, but he had stood there through other dangers, and this one was hardly any worse.

The short entry way led into a wide room lined with benches and lighted by stain glassed windows that brought rainbows everywhere, even on this dull, rainy day. Candles burnt in a chandelier at the center of the room, glowing with a welcoming light that Dacey did not trust. He closed his eyes to the sights and tried to dispel the thoughts of how different his life had been since....

"People coming," Tristan warned. Odd how he always knew before the rest of them.

Dacey opened his eyes and watched as shadows moved, became shapes, became people. An older man and woman came in the lead, but with four younger men behind, all stamped from the same mold. Brothers, Dacey thought, and shivered again. He could see worry in all their faces. And fear.

"The king and queen, and princes of the line," Silver whispered to the others. He bowed his head, though that seemed scant show of respect before these people.

Dacey bowed his head as well, but only so that he did not have to look. He didn't want to see what was in their eyes when they looked at him.

"Why have you come here?" the king demanded, his voice reverberating through the silent hall -- the sound of a man who asked questions and always got answers.

"My Lord," Abby said and looked up. Dacey glanced his way... better there than at the others. Abby didn't fear this man. "We came in hopes of an alliance, however temporary it might be."

"Alliance with mages?" the king said, sounding incredulous that anyone would suggest such a thing, even now. For some reason, Dacey had not expected him to be so blind.

"Would you rather side with the djinn, sire?" Silver said, daring words from a mere guard. "With us or with it -- there is no other side in this battle."

"Silver?" one of the young men spoke. He passed the king and silent queen, coming close enough that Dacey's heart pounded and he almost ran. He had never feared so much in his life. "You are allied with these... people?"

"Yes, Prince Tain. I know a great deal about the enemy. I think you should give yourselves the same opportunity to learn about the war you fight."

"You condemn yourself by standing with these mages," the king said, his voice still loud. No hope there.

"And you deny all hope of winning by not standing with them," Silver said. He had lost even that little look of obedience, and Dacey wanted to warn him to be careful... but didn't want to draw attention to himself. "Abby and Tristan have come a long ways to fight this battle, but they can't do it alone."

"And your other companion," the King said. His voice had gone even harder. "He is the one we sought so long and who escaped again, bringing this madness down on us."

"I am that mage," Dacey said. He finally looked into the man's face, because looking way didn't help. "I did not bring the evil."

The king backed up, frightened -- Dacey hadn't expected that. The Queen caught her husband's arm, her face going very pale.

"He won't hurt you," Silver said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Dacey tried to pull away, but Silver wouldn't allow it this time.

"I can't accept magic as an ally," the man said and shook his head with such vehement denial that Tristan made a sound of disbelief.

"Can you deny it as an enemy as well?" Tristan asked. "My Lord King, your world is in danger. You need our help and we would be honored to have yours."

"I can not..." he began again but stopped this time.

"My lady Queen," Dacey said and stepped past the others, drawing startled looks from everyone, especially the queen who had stayed so silent through this. "I ask that you give us sanctuary for the day."

"Me?" she said, sliding closer to her husband even as her sons moved in around her in a half circle of protection. "Why would you ask such a thing from me?"

"Because... I thought perhaps you might still be sorry."

She paled, and her legs would have given way if one of the sons had not caught her by the arm.

"Mother?" Prince Tain said softly.

"Stay," she whispered at last. "I give you sanctuary."

"Why?" Tain said, though the king only nodded.

"Because... the mage is right. I am still sorry."

Silence. But Dacey had invoked the law, had asked what only the Queen could give him, and none deny. King Tacson still looked as though he might argue, but she shook her head and whispered something in his ear.

"Tain, take them upstairs," the king said. His voice had lost much of the bluster of moments before. "You may rest here, but we will have no other dealings with one another. Can we trust that you will leave us in peace?"

"You have my word," Dacey said and dared to meet the man's eyes.

The king nodded and turned away, hurrying his wife away. Her face was wet with tears now, and two of the princes went with them, though the other two stayed, Tain and another.

"This way," Tain said abruptly and went past them, his brother close to his side. He stopped to look at Dacey for a long moment. "We thought you couldn't speak."

"I couldn't... then."

He nodded. Frowned. "It wasn't right, what they did to you."

That shocked Dacey, who said nothing as Prince Tain turned and headed away. Silver gave a quick, reassured nod. The guard knew this man, and maybe knew enough that they could trust the oldest prince.

By the time they had traversed long halls and reached a curving stairs, Dacey had begun to stumble, even with Silver's help. Tain's look of anger turned only to a hardness as he daringly caught hold of Dacey's free arm to help him upward.

"Lead the way, Micah," Tain said.

"Please," Dacey pulled away from the prince, his hand still bandaged and bleeding as he reached out to shield himself from the burning.

"You wear iron," Tristan said when the Prince looked bothered.

"An arm sheath," Tain said. He pulled the sleeve of his tunic to show the blade. "My apologies."

Dacey bowed his head in thanks and took a deeper breath, glad only to be away from the fire. "Let us just go to where we can rest. I am very tired."

Tain and Silver both nodded. Tristan helped with Dacey, and Tain did not remove the blade. Not trusting, which seemed wise.

No servants had appeared. The palace had the feel of some empty place, save for the few who had met them. Micah and Tain led the way up to the third floor and down a hall to a single door, stopping at last and looking at the four who had followed wearily and silently behind.

"This is a suite for visiting dignitaries," Tain said, throwing open the door. "You'll not be disturbed."

"Thank you Prince Tain," Abby said. He bowed and allowed the others to enter before him, though Dacey stayed close by the door, just beyond the touch of the Princes. "You are welcome to join us for a discussion of the matters at hand."

"The king will not accept magic as an ally," Tain said.

"And how will you fight this evil without it?" Abby asked.

Both Tain and Micah sighed and nodded. Dacey felt a surge of hope for Dodano at last.

"We can at least speak," Tain said. "You wear iron. You are no mage. The king might deal with you."

Dacey bowed his head and moved away, but Abby caught his arm and held him back. "You misjudge Dacey. He has always worked to save your world, and the Kiya and djinn would have a great deal more power now except for him."

"Dacey?" Micah said, and looked at him as he passed. "You never think that mages would have such common names. Gregor. Dacey."

"They're only men," Abby said and followed the two, steering Dacey to the long table by the wall where the others had gone to sit. He wanted to escape, but Abby obviously intended for him to stay and be part of this matter.

Silver helped him into the nearest chair. Dacey laid his head back on the soft cushion and closed his eyes, hardly feeling when Tristan put a hand to Dacey's cheek, a touch that passed magic and healing... a warmth that drove away the dark that had been coming closer with each step.

"Not too much, Tristan," Abby said. "One of you two must stay strong. We are not safe, even here."

Dacey felt Tristan reluctantly draw back. Dacey lifted his head and gave a tired nod of thanks... too weary still even to speak.

"We can only listen to what you have to say," Tain said as he finally took a seat on the other side of the table. "Though I am Heir Apparent, the King is still the one who rules -- at least in theory. We all know that the power is nearly gone. But he's still in charge. You must realize that, and not expect too much from our meeting."

"We know," Silver said. "I think it most important that someone outside of our group know what's going on though."

"Silver, you become wiser by the day," Tristan said as he took a seat by Abby. "You no longer harbor any doubts that we might lose this battle."

"No doubts," Silver agreed. He looked out the window at the falling rain. "It's lessening, but still looks like half the city will be flooded and the sea will come clear up to the palace wall."

"Let us hope that this doesn't go on too much longer," Abby said. He unbuckled his sword and sat it on one chair as he settled by Tristan. He still gave Dacey a smile of reassurance. Then he looked back at the two princes who sat across from him. "Ask me what you will, my lords."

Tain looked at Silver and then back at Abby. "Can we win?"

Dacey smiled. Such men as these wanted to win and go back to a world where wars were fought hand-to-hand, not by a chanted word and a distant wave of the hand. And he could not blame them for that longing. He didn't like this war any better than they did.

"I have hopes that Tristan and I will win your war for you, with some help from Dacey and Silver," Abby said. Dacey was glad he did not mention the People of the Night quite yet.

"Then why did you come to us?" Tain asked.

"Shelter from the storm," Dacey said, still not daring to meet their eyes. "And the palace is warded... has been since it was built back in the days of magic. We're safe here to rest for a little while."

"You said you thought we should know what's going on in our world," Micah said, looking at Silver. "I'd like to learn as much as I can."

"This is Abby and Tristan's war," Silver said. Dacey felt a new welling of gratitude that his friend stayed with him through this madness. He could not have begun to explain. "I'll let them tell this tale, since I truly know little about it --"

Someone knocked at the door. Abby rose in haste, his hand starting for his sword, and coming away without it. He gave a little gesture of apology and started toward the door. Tain rose and went with him, looking bothered and curious. Dacey held his breathe for a moment, glancing at Tristan -- but he knew Tristan wouldn't let Abby walk into danger.

Abby carefully pulled the door open and Dacey could see the Queen standing on the other side, her hands holding clothing. Dacey's heart beat with frantic fear as she stepped inside.

"Mother!" Tain greeted her, surprised.

"I have brought these gifts," she said, simply, as though being here was nothing extraordinary. "I hoped that Tain and Micah would take the chance to do what he cannot." She looked at Dacey, meeting his look of fear with something almost equal in her own eyes.

Abby belatedly bowed as he stepped aside. Dacey saw his hand go to his side at the movement. None of them had come here without injuries. They needed rest. He wished... urgently wished the Queen to leave again.

But she came to stand over him, putting the gifts on the table. He couldn't look up at her, and he began to tremble so much that Tristan took hold of his arm, and even that did not help.

"You are hurt," she said, her voice hard as she reached for his bleeding hand.

He pulled quickly away, and would have gotten to his feet and ran if Tristan had not kept hold of him, and Silver had not come to stand beside him.

"Dacey?" Silver whispered.

"Dacey," she repeated the name. Her voice softened, and her hand went to her heart.

"We had a younger brother," Micah said. Tain had put a hand on his mother's shoulder. "A prince of the line, but he died when he was four. His name was Dacey."

"Only dead to us," the queen whispered the words he hadn't expected to hear. They brought a shiver to Dacey who finally met her eyes for the first time. The same eyes. He remembered them still.

"Please, just allow me peace for a little while."

Silence for a long moment, and the only movement was Tristan's fingers tightening on his arm.

"By the Gods!" Tain suddenly spoke, his voice too loud, the fury nearly overcoming everything. "He can not be --"

"I am not that prince," Dacey said and looked at him. "I am a mage, and in your eyes I am not even a man."

But Tain must have seen something else in Dacey's eyes. His fury turned to bewilderment, though that passed to anger again. Dacey looked away. Why had she said it? Why had she come here?

Because she was sorry?

"Mother, how could you let the guards take him, put him to the iron, knowing -- Gods!" For a moment Tain choked on the words and he looked as though he might be ill.

"My son was dead," she said calmly. "And until he came through that door, I would have continued to make myself believe that until the day I died."

Micah rose and crossed to the window, his hands in fists, and his face pale. He glanced back at Dacey for a brief moment, but he could not tell what he saw in that Prince's face.

"Dacey, why didn't you tell us!" Silver said, and looked as bothered as the princes. "We could have gone somewhere else."

"This place is warded," Dacey said. His hand rose to test the magic in the air, reassuring himself that they remained safe. "We are only safe to rest here. And... and I wanted to see if it was as I remembered it -- bright and golden, the laughter of older brothers. Tain, Zevel, Clarion and Micah. Forgive me, I am no longer the same Dacey. I died when I was four, and I went to serve eternity as a slave to Master Gregor."

"The world has gone mad," Micah said, turning from the window.

"It has," Dacey agreed. He closed his eyes again, tired and spent, and afraid of what he might see in the eyes of... his brothers.

Fingers touched his face. He flinched away even before he realized that it was the queen.

"I'm your mother," she said softly.

Dacey lifted his hand and almost touched her fingers. "I trusted you," he whispered.

She turned and fled, leaving the door open as she ran down the hall, her step quick on the stairs.

"By the gods," Tain said at last and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Dacey said, looking at him again. He got to his feet, backing away even from Silver. "I am. I shouldn't have come here. The world is strange --"

His legs folded and he started to go down, but Abby leapt up and caught his arms -- and he, in turn went white as he pushed Dacey back into the chair. He put a hand to his side, gasping this time.

"Aubreyan Altazar!" Tristan gasped. "Are you trying to kill yourself? And me?"

"Dacey," Abby said softly, but let Tristan pull Abby back into his own chair.

Tain and Micah had come around the table, concern in their faces. Dacey wanted to move out of their reach, but he hadn't the strength to stand again. He laid his head on the table, too far gone to care any more.

"I'll take him to one of the bedrooms," Tain said, and unexpectedly lifted Dacey in his arms. Dacey's head rested on his brother's shoulder, and he ignored the burn of iron against his back where the arm wrapped. He hardly dared to breathe. "I would like to stay with him, to see him cared for. Can we speak in his room? I fear we still must talk about this matter, even with so much else... unsettled."

Abby nodded, and stood. Dacey could see him move with a hand to his side. The fingers did not entirely cover the stain of blood there. When Tain came closer, still carrying him, Abby looked into Dacey's face and offered a little smile.

"I'm all right Dacey. This is an old wound. You need to rest. We need you, mage."

"You're safe," Tain said softly as he laid Dacey on the bed. And Dacey remembered other times, long ago... an older brother coming to see him put to bed. He wanted a story. He wanted a tale to chase this madness away.

Home...

He shivered.

Chapter Ten

It is a step toward reconciliation, perhaps, Tristan said, silent words in his mind. He put an arm around Abby's waist and led him toward a chair. This world could use a bit of understanding.

Abby nodded. Dacey seemed to be the key to many things, and he only hoped that some of it came with less pain for his new friend. He wished he could give the princes some time together, but they did have the world to save, after all.

He limped worse with each step, his breath catching as he moved, and Tristan winced in the reflection of Abby's pain.

"I'm sorry," Abby apologized.

"Are you truly?" Tristan said, startling him. "If you are, you'll sit still for a while. You are not going to be in much better shape than Dacey. You need rest."

Abby lifted a hand in capitulation as he settled in the chair by the door. "I want to be done with this. I want it to end, but your High Elf has made certain that I will never rest, hasn't he?"

"Not my High Elf," Tristan protested. But then he fell quiet, even in his mind. Abby had a moment of worry, but Tristan shook his head this time. "No, it's all right. We're all weary, Abby."

"But we must still work out this problem," Tain said. He had finally stepped away from the bed. Abby started to stand, but Tain pushed him back down. "No. Stay there."

He spoke like someone who was used to giving orders. Abby wondered if that was what it was like to be a real prince. Tristan settled at his feet, leaning back against the chair. Tain sat on the end of the bed, looking back at Micah and Dacey, as though to make certain they were both still there and safe. Micah brought another chair closer to the bed, and Silver leaned against the door frame, looking very much like a guard still.

A calm moment, Abby thought, even with the feel of danger everywhere around them. He could wish this day to last a long time. The night surely would bring danger again.

"There are many things I want to know," Tain said. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around again. Then his face settled and Abby could see that this was a man who knew the ways of ruling. "Let us begin with the coming battle. What can we do? This djinn has killed over half the guard and the people of the city are in hysterics. They think the mage brought it, to take vengeance for what happened to him in the dungeon."

"I brought it," Tristan said.

"You?" Abby said, shocked by the suggestion, and that wasn't lost on the others.

"I cast the Kiya into the void to save one world -- and condemned a dozen others."

"You didn't know any more than I did," Abby said. He even waved a hand in dismissal of that matter. "And that ignorance was not our fault. We could have been told. We thought she would be destroyed when I sliced her to pieces with the sword."

"What is this Kiya?" Tain asked.

"The Kiya is a staff. She came from our world," Abby explained. He moved a little to ease a pain that had nothing to do with old wounds. "An evil staff, made by demons. She had been kept imprisoned for centuries, but someone freed her... My father freed her. It cost him in the end, when she found someone far better suited to hold her."

"The staff killed your father?" Silver said. He looked appalled. "And now you go from world-to-world to avenge him --"

"No!" Abby snapped appalled by that idea. Then he almost smiled despite himself. It had probably sounded that simple. "No, not for him. I was never Altazar's son in more than blood. His bastard son, as I was recently reminded by the djinn. My father was a barbarian, and I pride myself on being something different. Enough about me. The Kiya Chanda Andee tried to rule the world through my father's successor, Tabor. Tristan and I joined forces and thought we'd destroyed the Kiya. But..."

He stopped and shared his thoughts with Tristan. To say too much would give away many things about himself, and he didn't want to try to explain the rest of his blood line to these people. Tristan silently agreed, too worn to argue at all.

"We saved our world, but we didn't destroy the Kiya," Abby finally said. He looked at Tain and shook his head. "And for that I am sorry, and hope to put an end to the madness she spreads. Tristan and I seek her piece by piece. Once complete, she can be given to the Gods and destroyed."

"Given to the god?" Micah said. "Do you deal with the gods?"

Abby winced, fearing he may have said too much after all.

"How can we trust you if you are not honest with us?" Tain asked. He leaned forward, the bed shifting slightly beneath him. "You say you'll save my world, but you are not even mages. Gods help us, I don't know where to turn. From the moment of your arrival, my city has been in upheaval. You are in league with a mage whom the city has sought to kill... but now I learn he is my youngest brother. Micah is right. The world has gone mad."

"Do you want this djinn destroyed, Prince Tain?" Silver asked.

"Gods, I am so confused," Tain said. He shook his head. "Yes, I want the djinn destroyed. Many of our people have been taken by the djinn, transformed into half animal creatures, and made to fight the last of the guard. Maybe the rain will keep the djinn away for a day. It usually shows itself at dawn."

"It cast much magic last night," Tristan said. "I suspect waking the Evin was no easy task, and then it tried to kill us. I know, Abby. I'll see to my hand when we've time. It's not that bad of a burn."

"Tell me how to win over this madness," Tain said. And there was a look in his face that said he wanted a real answer.

"I must get the piece of the Kiya away from the djinn. They feed each other, reinforcing one another's powers," Abby said. "Once she's in our care, the destruction of the djinn will be much easier, and only a matter of mundane skills."

"You take the Kiya," Tain said. He looked from one to the other. "Aside from the actual execution of this deed -- which looks impossible, what's to keep this Kiya from taking you the way she has the djinn?"

Tristan pulled the pouch he always kept close and opened it up and retrieved one of the pieces of the Kiya that he had within. The small of piece of rune covered wood almost seemed to glow with power.

Micah had stood and come closer and reached toward the wood. So did Tain -- and they pulled back again, their eyes gone wide.

"It feels evil," Micah said. He swallowed and sat down on the bed beside Tain, apparently even forgetting Dacey. He watched as Tristan put the piece of wood away again before he spoke. "How can you bare to have that near you?"

"I am an elf," he said and shrugged. "It cannot call me."

"And you?" Tain said, looking at Abby. "You are not the same as he."

"No, I am not," Abby agreed. "I held the Kiya once - the entire staff, whole and in her full power."

"The whole staff?" Silver whispered. "I only touched that piece the djinn now wears and she held me -- Dacey freed me, my Lords. How did you ever get free of her?"

"I threw her away," he said.

"Because..." Tain said and looked at him, confused... Dacey's look, Abby thought suddenly. "Because there is no evil in you?"

"Yes," Tristan said and raised a hand to silence Abby. "You can't deny what I know is true. Despite all that man, gods and demons have done to you, you are without evil."

"And that's the power against the Kiya? Good against evil?" Micah asked, though he still looked uncertain.

"No. That's only how we can deal with her once we have her," Tristan said. "To defeat her, we must use other powers."

Tristan lifted his hand and wove a design in the air, glowing bright like crystal and rainbows. He closed his eyes, watching it through Abby's eyes, who delighted in the sudden show of beauty, even while he silently admonished his friend for using the magic when he should be resting.

"Magic," Tain whispered and pulled away.

"My lord, if you are to survive this battle, you must accept the use of magic. Surely you've seen by now that swords are no weapon against this enemy," Abby said, trying very hard not to grow angry with these men. It was not their fault the world had changed so much for them in so short a time.

Tain stopped, looked up at the ball of light, and then back at Tristan. "You wear iron, elf. How can you do that?"

"Abby and I are not of your world. Your laws do not apply to us."

Are you a mage too Abby?"

"Alas, no. If I were, I wouldn't always need to seek the help of those like Dacey. The battle is mine --"

"It's -- it's beautiful!" Dacey suddenly said from behind his two brothers. They both looked back, but Abby was glad to see that they didn't try to pull away from him this time. "Is that your magic, Tristan?"

"Yes," Tristan said and smiled. "Why aren't you resting?"

"I am. It wasn't safe for me to do more than sleep in snatches for so long, and then run again -- I can't sleep now out of instinct."

"I can help you sleep," Tristan said.

"No," Dacey said. He sounded better, at least. "Abby looks as though he needs your help more than I do. Go. Silver, would you stay a while?"

"Of course," Silver said.

"Micah and I will go speak with the King," Tain said. He stood and crossed to the door, stopping to look back at Dacey. "I'll be back before sunset. I assume the battle will begin again when the moons rise?"

"If the djinn doesn't attack first," Abby said.

"Rest," Tain said. He took Micah by the arm and pulled him to the door -- but he stopped and held his hand out to the magical light, touching it without fear. "You are safe here. The world changes."

Abby felt a little hope again as the two left. He hoped it wasn't misplaced.

Chapter Eleven

Tain left Dacey in the room with Silver to watch over him. Micah stayed at his side, his brother's face so pale and angry that he did not even look like the man he'd known for so long.

They went out into the hall, closing the door behind them, with barely civil farewells to the others. He'd no time for such things now.

They walked silently, down the hall to the stairs and there... stopped. Both of them.

"I feared I would be ill," Micah said. "Or that I would go for my dagger and cut out that stone she has for a heart."

Tain looked at his brother, shocked by the words, though not the sentiment. He didn't dare speak yet, and he suspected that Micah understood just then. They stood in silence for a long moment, while the storm rolled over the castle, beating at it. Like some beast, scratching at the stone, trying to tear them down.

"What are we going to do?" Tain finally asked, looking at his brother. "Gods all. I can't believe --"

"I didn't want to believe," Mica answered, his voice soft. "To have done that to Dacey -- Gods, Tain, did you look into his eyes? Did you see the pain, the fear... the longing?"

"There's no going back. We can't change what they did --" He stopped at the sound of footsteps.

Clarion and Zev appeared at the curve of the stairs, and came up faster when they saw the two. Tain could have wished them to stay away a little longer. He couldn't be certain how much he trusted himself right now, and he wanted calm before he told their younger brothers --

Or maybe he just wanted to avoid telling them. Maybe they could avoid it altogether. After all, there were other problems enough...

"What's wrong?" Clarion asked, fear clearly showing in his face. He so seldom panicked that it dissuaded Tain from trying to keep secrets now. They would all do better with the truth, no matter how painful. "It went badly? They won't help us? Why the hell did they come here?"

"Peace," Tain said with a lift of his hand. It shook a little -- he couldn't help it. Rage still held his heart. "They came to offer aid and alliance. I'm not certain if it will help. Neither are they, given the enemies that we face. Come to my room. We must talk."

Micah nodded and moved out ahead of the others, back down the stairs and toward the other wing. They walked silently, though quickly, through the halls. They passed no servants -- nearly all of them had left long before now. The place had a feel of decay without them. Dust already gathered in corners, and mice scurried through the halls -- but perhaps they had only come here for sanctuary as well. Predators walked in the streets...

Ah, but the castle would provide no safety for anything so small and helpless. Tain felt that truth with a stab in his heart. He thought about his own children, and how they would never be safe beneath the rule of this king... they would not be coming back to the palace. Not so long as King Tascon ruled this place.

A difficult decision, but one he felt he could not change knowing what had happened to Dacey. If thatmanwould give his own son over to such a life, none of his grandchildren would be safe from him.

Tain probably looked even more bleak as he pushed the door to his room open, but he'd at least made some decision about something... it helped.

It also helped that Tain now kept several bottles of wine and some fine crystal goblets in his room. This was not the first time he and his brothers gathered here to talk, in a place less overpowering than the great -- and now empty -- hall, or in any of the King's normal haunts. This was just their place, by the fire that Tain kept kindled, in the small warm room. They no longer even bothered with secrecy about the meetings.

Rain, and perhaps a little sleet, splattered against the window, drawing rivulets against the glass and distorting the world beyond. Tain paused over a moment, and looked at the water. It would never wash away all the blood, or the evil, that had been done in this place.

He started to pour the claret, but his hands shook, and he stopped and closed his eyes, wishing he could wash away the vision he had of Dacey, sitting there, looking at their mother.

I trusted you.

"Sit down, Tain," Clarion said and took the bottle from his hands. "I'll do this."

He nodded, still not daring the words, and went to his desk. Micah had gone to the window and stared out, though Tain knew he really didn't look at the storm.

Clarion brought him the goblet and he held it in two hands, sipping. It didn't help, but it gave Clarion a moment to take the goblets to the others before he sat with Zev on the bed.

"How bad is it?" Clarion asked.

"A matter has been raised," Micah said. And then he stopped and shook his head. He took a long drink of the claret. Micah seldom drank at all, and that was not lost on the two younger brothers.

There should have been three sitting there. He remembered them, as children, the three younger brothers...

No use doing this carefully, trying to make it easy. He set the goblet aside. "Father sold Dacey to the mage in return for some magic," Tain said.

"No," Clarion said, adamant in his disbelief. "No! He wouldn't! You can't really believe it. They said it to turn us against him."

"I wouldn't have believed if mother hadn't arrived," Micah said softly. "I wouldn't have believed it, but --"

"No," Clarion said again. "It has to be a lie. Why would he do it? And what would the mage want with a prince of the line anyway? If he took Dacey, what happened to him?"

Tain looked at Clarion -- but it was Zev who went white. "No," Zev said, but more softly than his brother. "No. Father wanted him dead because -- no. Father wouldn't, would he? No."

Clarion looked at Zev and back at Tain, his face growing red, anger surging. He started to stand... and sat again.

"He can't be Dacey. He's lying," Clarion said.

"No, he isn't," Tain said. "I wish... I wish he was."

"I want to see him. I want to believe --. Even father wouldn't --"

"He's resting," Mica said. He started to drink and stopped, setting the claret aside. "He's not strong after --"

"Oh Gods, no," Clarion said. "The iron. Not Dacey. Not the child --"

"No, not the child," Tain said, offering that little agreement. "And not, by his own admission, the Dacey we knew. But it is him, Clarion. You'll learn that for yourself soon enough."

"How could they have done that to him?" Zev whispered. Only a year older than Dacey -- they had been very close as children.

"He wanted magic for something," Mica said. "And he willingly paid the price. Well, after all, what did he need with five sons?"

Bitterness laced through Micah's words. That seemed to convince Clarion and Zev more than anything else. Clarion drank his claret, his face gone pale now. Zev did not sip his own drink, though he held it tight in his hands. This was no easy tale for any of them. How much harder it must have been for Dacey... hunted through the streets like some animal, because his own father wanted him dead.

"He wanted the apprentice dead because he knew if Dacey was given a chance at all, the whole world would know his perfidy," Micah said. "It explains his obsession at last."

"Yes, it does," Tain agreed.

"It is unforgivable," Clarion said. "Both then -- and Gods, now."

"I agree." Tain leaned back in his chair, his head still pounding with the power of the emotions that surged through him. "But it does give us one piece in all this madness that helps. We know that we can trust the apprentice."

"Can we?" Clarion asked. "After all -- after everything --"

"He's still Dacey," Micah replied. He leaned back, much as Tain had. He could see a lot of himself in that look. Brothers. Like Dacey. "I could see it in his eyes. And that is both the good and the bad of it. Nothing of what happened can ever be forgotten or forgiven. But he is Dacey. We know we can trust him."

"He came to us for sanctuary -- and for allies," Tain added.

"What can we do?" Zev asked.

"We --"

Footsteps. A quick knock on the door. Clarion went to answer it, though Tain would rather he had stayed sitting. Clarion was apt to do things out of temper, and right now he was far over that edge.

One of his mother's ladies was at the door. Tain did not like the look of that, and the woman's nervous, pale look as she stepped inside got Tain back to his feet immediately.

"The Lady Queen sent me. The King is -- gathering soldiers. The King is --"

"Oh hell!" Tain said. He leapt at his armoire, tearing it open. "He wants the apprentice dead. Gods all, we shouldn't have left him!"

"I need a weapon!" Micah said, crossing to him.

"Here. Take what you can use," Tain said, and looked back at his last two brothers. "You are not required to step into this madness --"

"No," Clarion said. "We aren't. We could stand back and let this go even farther. But it's time we stood on the right side, don't you think?"

"We always have," Micah said. "We would never have gone along with this, at any point. Take this."

They took the swords that he had, and in a moment headed out in the hall. The Lady Ashin watched them go. No doubt she'd tell the Queen. No turning back now.

They met the king and his men at the bottom of the stairs. More than a dozen soldiers stood at his back, including Captain Julin. No one looked happy.

"You will not go up there to kill him," Micah said. He even stepped forward, his sword in his hand, right there in front of the king. "No, not again. You've done enough to that boy already, wouldn't you say?"

"I want it dead."

"He is not an it," Tain said. "He's your son. He's Dacey, and you knew that when you set the guard against him. You knew what you had done, and you wanted him dead before any of the rest of us learned. You are unfit to be a human, let alone a king."

There. It was said. Captain Julin could take his life right now. It was treason in all ways. But Tain didn't back up now, even if he could. Now the truths were out there and the King must face his own choices. Now the world would know, and Tain couldn't really say he cared if the royal family fell for it or not.

"I don't understand," Julin said. He had his hand on his weapon, but he had not drawn it yet. And that gave Tain a little hope for settling this without bloodshed.

"Father, our Good and Wise King, sold his youngest son to the Mage," Micah said. He moved up beside Tain, his own sword in hand as well. "And that is why he has had the boy hunted to the exclusion of all other dangers. He knew if anyone found Dacey -- if we ever learned the truth -- that he would have to answer for it. So why did you sell Dacey to the Mage, father?"

"I do not have to answer to you --"

"Oh, but you do," Tain said. "This time, you do, because this has nothing to do with the rule. This has everything to do with your own son -- with our brother. Explain that to us."

"It was my choice," he said. "It was to keep the throne strong. You, who grew up in a time of plenty, have no right to judge what I have done."

Maybe Julin expected the king to deny it all, but Tain knew that he wouldn't. It had gone far beyond denial now. And beyond understanding.

"You cursed us," one of the soldiers said. "You dealt with magic. That's what brought this dark time on us --"

"No," Tain said and stopped the soldier before he went on. "No, that wasn't the curse. The curse was in what he did now. He turned you against the apprentice -- not because he was the danger, but because he would give away secrets this man feared more than he cared about the welfare of the people in his hands. He wanted Dacey killed to protect his name, and nothing more."

The King had gone white faced. Tain couldn't decide what he had expected. But, praise the Gods, there would not be a fight over this. Julin had a good head on his shoulders. He had seen the madness already.

"The apprentice --" Tain began, and then shook his head. "Prince Dacey and his companions will remain our guests as long as they need be."

"This is my place -- my palace," the king said.

"Not any longer," Tain replied. "Not any longer. Whatever you thought you bought with Dacey's life, the lease is up."

"You are talking treason," his father said.

"No. I'm talking sanity -- and usurpation, if the others agree. We will leave you the title for now, because this is not the time to send that news to the people. But my brothers and I will take the rule, father. And you... you would be wise not to come near Dacey again. If you hurt him again, I will not let you walk away. Is that clear, father? Nothing is forgiven, but for the moment... for the moment we all have other wars."

The King shook his head, turned to Julin.

But Julin pulled his hand back from his sword and stepped from the king. The soldiers took a moment longer, but that was likely more shock than any difficulty of decision.

"Go to your quarters," Micah said. "Go, while you are still safe from us, because by the Gods I cannot bear the sight of you."

Maybe it was Micah's voice, which had always been so passionless, that sent the man backing away. The guard stepped aside, let him go -- but Julin touched two to follow.

"Make sure he goes to quarters, and no where else. This is not settled, but Tain is right -- we need sanity now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Captain," one said. He started away. Stopped. "I heard that Silver is with them."

"Yes, he is," Tain said.

"Good," Julin said. "Silver has always had a good head on his shoulders. Go."

The men nodded and moved away, following after the king, who turned and fled faster. Panicked. It almost made Tain ill to think the man was such a coward, and that he thought so little of them that now they would consider ordering his murder --

Ah, but how could he think any better of his sons then how he would have acted? Any of them could have been Dacey.

Julin looked at Tain, waiting... He didn't know exactly what the Captain of the King's Guard wanted from him just then.

"We have allies," Tain said. He leaned against the wall, hoping that he did not look as shaken as he suddenly felt. "We have allies who will, the Gods willing, now be able to help us face the true enemy."

"And after that?" Julin asked.

"After that, if we survive, life will be different. There is no choice in that part, Captain. We are in the heat of the crucible, my friend. I cannot say what will be forged when we come out the other side. We can only hope that we will be stronger for it."

"Yes," Julin said. And then he bowed his head. "By your leave."

A sign of allegiance. Tain felt a shiver rush up his back. But he nodded his head to the man. "Thank you, Captain. Please keep the stairs guarded. We don't want something unfortunate to happen now."

Julin nodded. There was no telling if the King had any fanatical followers, though there were unlikely to be any here in the palace. Hardly anyone was left.

"We'll see this done," Clarion said, putting a hand on Tain's shoulder. "We'll see this done, if not right, at least with justice."

And what more could they hope for after all else that had been done? Tain nodded. And he went with his brothers back up the stairs again. The world had changed in those moments, and now everything had been given into their hands.

Well, at least he would try to save it, rather than his own name. It was time for sanity to reign again.

Part 4: The Prince

Chapter One

Abby came awake with the knowledge that Tristan answered the door, cautiously sliding it open, his hand to his dagger at his side...

Who? Abby wondered, groggily.

"Prince Tain, Prince Micah," Tristan said, bowing his head in their direction. "And?"

"Zevel and Clarion. We came to speak to you before it grew too late --"

"The others still sleep," Tristan said. "Be seated my Lords. And I'll -- ah, Abby is awake and up."

Tristan put a hand to this side and winced as a door to the bedroom opened and Abby stepped out. He felt disheveled and hardly rested, but he waved away Tristan's worry and bowed. "My Lords, I'm glad you came. How long have you been awake, Tristan?"

"Not long enough." Tristan said. He ran a hand through his hair and followed the four back to the table. "At least it's stopped raining. I think that might help. I did not relish the thought of battling knee deep in mud."

"There has been some flooding, but nothing drastic," Micah said as he sat down. The other brothers did as well, the two new ones looking silent and unsure, although Tain only appeared worried. "We're a sea port city -- we've had rains like this before, and the city is built to withstand them."

"This will make Dacey feel better," Abby said. He took a chair across from the four and Tristan settled beside him.

"What are the crowns you wear?" Tain asked. "A sign of rank?"

"No!" Abby and Tristan chorused.

"That was a quick and odd reaction," Tain said, and looked them over again, as though he could tell their birthrights by sight.

"We're far from home," Abby said with a little shrug. "Whatever we were there, how could it possibly matter here?"

"It might," Tain said. He leaned forward. "Do the gods truly side with you?"

"Yes," Abby answered simply, but Tain obviously wanted more. "However, they do it for their own reasons, my lord prince. They want the staff."

"Are the gods as incorruptible as you?"

"Please, Prince Tain, you give me --"

"This is not the time for modesty. I want honesty from both of you. Are the Gods as incorruptible as you?"

"I don't know what the gods are," Abby admitted. "They have powers..."

"Then why haven't they stepped in and taken the Kiya themselves?" Tain asked.

"You have not considered the consequences of that action," Tristan answered, leaning forward, his hands on the table. "If the gods personally sought the Kiya, then the demons would do the same. The battles fought would destroy worlds. Abby and I are far safer for the quest."

"You have spoken to gods haven't you?" Micah suddenly asked, his voice very soft.

"It is no great thing, Prince Micah," Abby said, trying to reassure him, though that apparently did no good. "Forget all of that. Truly, it has no bearing on the battle. The Gods are not here, nor do we want them unless there is no other choice. They ask gifts of every help given, my Princes. You do not want to pay the price... and find yourself on some never ending quest."

"Ah," Tain said. He seemed to understand better. "Will there be a battle tonight? Or will you accept our hospitality for a least another night?"

"Don't worry, Prince Tain. We shall not impose on your for the night," Abby said and smiled.

"We're allies," Tain said. "I would like you to be ready for the battle when you leave here."

"I did hear voices. You should have awakened me."

Dacey stood in the doorway to his room. He pushed away from the wall and stumbled across to the table, looking stiff, sore and pale... but far more cognizant than he had been when they first came to the palace. He took the seat by Abby and sat with his head bowed. He didn't look up at the four across from him.

"Where's Silver?" Tristan asked.

"Sleeping," he said. "He's exhausted."

"You look as though you need the sleep as well, Dacey," Tain said.

Dacey glanced up at last. Abby saw resoluteness in his face this time. "Not sleep. I need the moons now. I am what I am, my Prince. I can never change that now."

"Dacey," Tain said, and reached for him.

Dacey pulled back... and when Tain looked troubled, Dacey reached out again, putting his hand upon the oldest Prince's arm for a brief moment. He lifted his palm and showed it bright red and blistered. "You wear iron. I am a mage. I cannot bear it. I am not one of you. Accept that."

"I was twelve when you... left," Tain said. He pulled his arm back and for a moment Abby saw true grief that transcended all the other troubles in the world. "I seemed to mourn more than our parents. I had taught you --"

"To read," Dacey said. He looked at Tain and Abby wondered what he saw from that other time, there in his older brother's eyes. "I learned quickly. I followed you everywhere, even to the practice field. You made me a small wooden sword and shield. Clarion painted the coat of arms on it --"

"It is him," one of the other two whispered, afraid.

"And you are Zevel." Dacey turned to him and the prince pulled back, startled. "You helped me to hide from Tain sometimes. Ah, forgive me. This is wrong. Pointless. I am not that Dacey."

"They gave you to the mage," Clarion said. He didn't seem to doubt. "But why?"

"Payment, I would guess," Tain said. "For magic."

The others looked shocked, but Dacey nodded. "There are times when magic is needed. I don't know what the king bought. I hope... it was worth the price."

"There is nothing we can do to change what has happened, is there?" Tain asked.

"Nothing," Dacey agreed. He appeared to take comfort in that word. "Let's allow ourselves a truce while we help Abby and Tristan. I touched the Kiya myself and I know her evil. I want her off my world."

"And what will that change for you, Dacey" Tristan asked. "They sought you before we came."

"I never meant to win that battle. Gregor had taken my voice and left me powerless. I knew when the Kiya came that some other magic had touched the world, but I learned soon enough that it couldn't help me. Not even the People of the Night could do that. I wouldn't have gone on so long, except for the knowledge that the Kiya had to be destroyed. And she had said that Aubreyan Altazar would come for her, and she feared him --"

"For reasons I fail to see," Abby admitted.

"You were prepared to die," Tain said, meeting Dacey's eyes again.

"I had no reason left to live. I was a mage without powers until Abby broke the spell Gregor had put on me. And, Aubreyan Altazar, I do understand why the Kiya fears you."

"He denies it himself," Tristan said. He put a hand to the stone in the crown. "But I know as well."

"Shall we discuss the coming battle?" Abby asked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "We'll see whether or not there's a reason for her to have feared me."

"Things will be different Dacey," Tain said looking at him.

"You can't change how the people feel toward magic," Dacey said.

"Why not?" Silver said, startling them all as he came into the room. "You changed my mind, and I was one of the King's Guards."

"You look rested," Abby said. He looked around the room. "In fact, you look like the only one in this room who has had any rest."

"I slept well, my lord Abby. Thank you."

Abby shook his head looking bothered again. "Not my Lord."

"A person who fights for the gods deserves less title than a prince born to it?" Tain asked. Then he frowned again. "Or is it that the title means more to you than we think? What did they call you before you took up this mad quest for the gods?"

"For most of my life my title was bastard," Abby said. "You needn't look embarrassed. I've learned it really means less to me than I thought it would. I told you -- my father was a barbarian, a murderer and a fool who released the Kiya Chanda Andee. She held him for years, and then killed him when Tabor came. He is the son of a demon, born to be my enemy as long as the gods confront the demons --"

He saw Tain's eyes go wide, the prince's breath catch. He had said too much.

"Say nothing, Prince Tain," Tristan said.

The others looked confused, but Tain nodded as though he dared not disobey. That was not the reaction Abby wanted, and in fact the real reason he hadn't wanted to say anything. "What I am makes no difference to this battle," he said. "I must win through the help of my allies. I wish I had the power to fight the battle alone, but that has not been given to me."

"Perhaps the gods test us all," Tain said. He looked as though he was reconciled to all that he had to accept since they had shown up at the door. "Perhaps they wish to see if the worlds to which you go are worthy of being saved. We must join the battle against evil if we do oppose it."

"If that's so, then I've seen no world without hope."

"You'll have our backing," Tain said. "And not for fear that the gods would disapprove if we didn't. In the end, I think we must all just decide what is best. I chose the side that does not turn our people into monsters."

"Your aid is gratefully welcome," Abby said, with a bow of his head.

"You are being wise, Prince Tain," Dacey said. "You couldn't fight without them, and if they should lose, Dodano wouldn't be the only place to fall."

"Dacey, I want to make another deal with you." Tain leaned forward, but Dacey pulled back with a little gasp of pain. Tain pulled the dagger from the sheath beneath his sleeve and passed it to Zevel.

Then he leaned forward again and held out his hand. Dacey looked as though he feared that touch, but he finally put his fingers on Tain's. He nearly pulled away when Tain put his other hand over the fingers.

"I"ll call you Dacey and you will call me Tain. Tain, Micah, Zevel and Clarion. No mage, no prince -- and we shall be brothers again."

Dacey's face went very pale. He tried to pull away, but Tain did not let go. "I can't," Dacey whispered. "I -- can't erase all that has changed."

"I want you to know that if I had known...anything that had happened to you, things would have been different. From the day they gave you away to what happened in the dungeon --" Tain stopped as Dacey shivered at those words. "Please, Dacey. I'm sorry. It will be different for you now."

"You can't change the world beyond these walls," Dacey whispered, trembling so much that Abby put a hand on his shoulder, and Silver came closer to stand behind him. Dacey took a deeper breath and waved his free hand toward the window. "You can't change how they feel about magic."

"Then you'll stay here, with us. Safe. And let them try to come for you."

"But Prince --"

"Tain. You called me Tain before. I'm the same, and the more I see of you, the more I think you are as well, Dacey."

"But --" Dacey started again. He glanced nervously at the others.

"Dacey," Clarion said, the name spoken like a sound of defiance. "I made my decision already anyway. If the choice came between the creature out there or the strangers and our brother, the Prince Mage, I decided I could side with magic against true evil. That's not something you can do one day and forget the next. I don't care how father feels about it."

"Father is a hypocrite," Micah suddenly said, and with such hatred that it drew startled looks from everyone. "He's dealt with magic, or else Dacey would never have been given over to Gregor."

"True," Tain said and finally let go of Dacey's hand.

"We'll discuss it after the battle," Dacey said. "It may all be a moot point, you know. The moons will be up soon. Let's discuss that trouble before we take on any other."

"What can we do?" Tain asked, looking at Abby again.

"The problem we face here is that this piece of the Kiya is larger than the other three we've recovered, and the size appears to have made her more intelligent. She has powers, and joined with the magic of the djinn, it makes moving directly against her very difficult."

"But not impossible," Tristan said. "We have a great deal of power on our side as well. Besides the magic Dacey and I can call up, we have the claws of the Evin and the power of the People of the Night on our side."

Tain looked worried at the mention of those two, but he said nothing this time.

"We have allies we need, Prince Tain," Abby said. "I fear that I have lost my one piece of magic that I could have used. We must take what help we can."

He nodded. "I can gather what's left of the guard," he said. "I can't say how loyal they'll be, though."

"At midnight, bring them to the gate, if you can," Abby said. "Sometimes there's a need for the sword in this battle, much to my regret."

"Then I'll begin with the work of convincing them now. It's going to be difficult. I'll see you by the palace gate, whether I have them or not."

"That'll be a trick all on its own," Silver said.

The others agreed, and all four princes left to do their work, leaving the group alone again. Abby saw the brothers glance back toward them from the doorway, and he couldn't decide if the others had gone to help their youngest brother, or just to avoid any more questions that tested their own beliefs.

"The battle will likely be over tonight" Dacey said. He leaned back in the chair. "I've waited a long time for this night. And I still don't know what we're doing."

"The Kiya is unpredictable," Abby warned. "To lay specific plans would only cause confusion. When we face her, we must decide then what will be the best moves against her both in magic and sword. We have allies, and she does as well. The battle won’t be easy."

"I never thought it would be," Dacey said. He put his hands on the table and looked at Abby. "I've no illusions, Abby. But we will fight and win."

And from that moment, even Abby didn't doubt.

Chapter Two

When Dacey awoke again, he looked out the window. The moons seemed to rest on the tips of the horns. Power came in their touch, but he knew it meant that midnight wouldn't be too far away.

Outside the room others spoke softly. He thought he should go out there --

But no. Saying words with them was not his place in this battle. Instead, he turned his face to the magic of the moons again, and slept a while longer.

They woke him in plenty of time to prepare. Tain had brought the group cloaks and warmer clothing. He had ignored the pile of clothing his mother brought, but he accepted this willingly.

Abby, Tristan and Silver had gone out already, checking the area in case there might be a trap ready. Dacey didn't like to risk those three, but he understood the need, and he followed them out as quickly as he could manage to get cleaned and dressed.

Whey they left the safety of the palace, Dacey looked to the moons again. Almost directly overhead. A cold wind blew across the sea and he could feel the hint of ice in the air. Dacey pulled his cloak closer and shivered. The reminder of winter made him wonder where he would be sleeping tomorrow.

Or was that something he should worry about at all? He had no illusions about his chances of surviving this battle. Chance was all it would be, and he'd not been exactly lucky in life before this.

Clarion had been the one who stayed to walk with him, silent but not looking as shocked as he had before this. Dacey thought he ought to say something to his older brother... but he had lost the ability to speak openly, and he didn't know quite where to start.

As he reached toward the gate it sprang open, startling him into a step backward.

"Silver saw you coming," Tristan said from the shadows beyond the gate. "We didn't want a repeat performance of the entry."

"I'm... calmer now," he said as he and Clarion stepped past the gate where Tristan, Silver and Micah waited. "At least in that respect."

"Abby has gone with Tain and Zevel to round up the guard," Silver said. He sounded nervous, and Dacey wondered what he felt like, about to see his former comrades -- but standing on the other side now. "We're here in case Selis or any of the others arrive."

"We don't want any misunderstandings about which side anyone is on," Tristan said. He shook his head. "There is trouble enough already."

"Tristan, what do you see now?" Dacey asked, looking into the dark eyes that obviously didn't see him.

"I see what Abby sees," he answered simply. "Tain before him speaking with the nervous commander, who glances at the moons and at Abby as though he would as soon cut off his arm or walk through fire than fight with mages in the light of the moons."

"It's not easy thing to accept," Clarion said. He glanced at the moons as well, and shuddered.

"I could bring forth brighter, more beautiful flowers to bloom in the light of those moons than ever bloomed by day," Dacey said. He smiled. "Or make butterflies that glow like the stars dancing. The moons are not evil. Magic is not evil. Only sometimes men choose to do wrong by whatever means lay within their grasp. By magic or by the sword, evil men create evil."

He couldn't be certain that the others understood, but Clarion nodded, at least. Silver and Tristan had both smiled.

"Now that you have your voice you shall teach the people of your world much they have forgotten, Dacey," Tristan said.

"Do you think I shall ever have the chance?" Dacey asked.

"Oh yes," Tristan said.

"You assume that we shall win here."

"I have to," Tristan said, but with an unexpected hardness in the tone that Dacey heard but the others likely didn't notice. "If I didn't believe that we would win, or that good would come where we passed... then I would dare the wrath of the Gods themselves and take Abby somewhere away from this damned long war we fight."

"You're no happier about this than he is, and yet you follow him from battle-to-battle," Silver said.

"And from friend-to-friend," Tristan said. "If you could have heard Brendan sing, or seen the stars from Edric's ship... and now to have dwelt in a magic city in the sea... Dacey, I was only a blind elf prince before Aubreyan Altazar came. Now, not only can I see beauty, but my life has meaning. And kinship. My people feared men as your own people fear mages. I learned to look to the souls of those I meet." He stopped and tilted his head. "The Evin come. Prince Clarion, Prince Micah -- the Evin are not human, but please don't fear them."

"We don't fear you Tristan," Micah said. "And you aren't human."

Tristan grinned, but turned as a dozen Evin came from the shadowy path along the cliff. Dacey watched his brothers and felt a wave of joy he hadn't expected as they watched not with fear -- but wonder.

The Evin seemed less assured about being with the humans, though the leader came forward and greeted Tristan with a hand on his arm.

"The night is quiet, friend," he said. "The winds are cold. The snows will come tonight. The djinn, perhaps he doesn't like the cold."

"Winter has not slowed him in the past," Dacey said.

"You wish for this battle?" the Evin asked, looking at Dacey.

"I wish for this battle to be... done," Dacey said, and that won a nod of agreement.

"I am grateful that you came to join us, Sellis," Tristan said. "We need allies in this battle."

"Allied with mages, men..." He looked at Tristan for a long, silent moment, "...and other things. The ways of the world have changed."

"Abby is with the guard," Tristan said. "They are very close. But many are nervous."

"Most of us have never stood in the moons," Clarion reminded them, though Dacey saw that he was calm enough.

The sounds of the guard grew closer. Dacey could hear the footsteps as they marched... a sound that had sent him running to hide not so long ago. He moved to stand by the Evin, and to use his own magic to protect them if he must. He hoped that it wouldn't be necessary -- that by now the humans had seen enough trouble, that they'd look anywhere for help.

The guard came into sight, a hundred strong, marching in step, and he saw the moment when they turned the corner and found the Evin. Swords nearly came from scabbards, but Prince Tain's shouted order for control drew them back from their weapons... for the moment.

Dacey could hear the undercurrent of unrest that even Tain could not quiet. The Evin, wisely, kept back by the palace wall, silent and waiting.

"I think we had best call the People," Abby said as he crossed to his friends. He looked up at the sky and nodded. "This uneasy alliance won't last long without a true enemy to face. These men are loyal to Prince Tain, but even loyalty can't be counted on to overcome the fear s of generations."

Dacey nodded and turned toward the sea, glad that Silver stayed by him. He could hear a ripple of anxiety go through the guard again, and Tain's orders to hold.

He looked out over the wind-blown sea, letting the feel of the ice cut at him again. That felt oddly normal, and calmed him. He thought about what would happen when he called The People, and he stood here among all these beings who had been enemies not so long ago. And would be again, he knew, once the danger passed.

"Dacey?" Silver said next to him, and pulled his own cloak closer.

"I'm all right. Just savoring a few moments of peace before this next step. Once The People are here..."

"I understand," Silver said. "The moons are high up. Why haven't they come yet?"

"Waiting... I've no doubt they know that something has changed, that there are people here waiting. They aren't going to rush out into a trap set by the Djinn."

"Do you think the djinn will come?"

"He'll come," Dacey said and lifted his hand. "One way or another."

Silver looked at the hand, the thin scar across the palm, and nodded. He shivered as he looked out into the cold sea, and Dacey finally took pity on his friends.

"Phaedra?"

The water parted and fell away like a long dark tunnel opening in a mountain. Somewhere far in the distance he could see a bright light, a beacon to the city of beauty where Dacey had stayed, though it already seemed like a dream to him.

He saw movement in the tunnel; a press of people who came in a rush. Two figures outdistanced the rest, and he recognized Phaedra and Brother. They rushed up the seabed and across the rocks. Phaedra came first, a vision of beauty and alieness that apparently stunned the guards to silence.

"Dacey! Praise the gods you are safe!" She removed her sword and tossed it to Brother before she embraced him. That stunned Dacey, but she didn't seem to notice. She pulled back, hands resting on his shoulders. "Those were the longest hours of my life! I have never felt so powerless since the day the curse was first laid upon us."

"Lady Phaedra," Dacey said, and bowed his head as she let go of him. "I am honored that you came to my call."

"Honored," Brother mused. He smiled as his eyes wandered across the crowd of men and other things. Dacey saw his eyes widen and his hand go to his own sword. "An interesting assemblage, mage. What will you do with these humans, People, and Evin?"

"Evin!" Phaedra yelped, reaching for the sword she had tossed aside.

"Allies," Dacey reassured her, daring a hand to her arm to stop her from taking the weapon. "They're willing to forget the trouble between The People and the Evin in order to fight this battle."

"And what of afterwards?" Brother asked.

Abby and Sellis had crossed to them, and the Evin leader looked the two over, while more of the People finally joined them.

"Afterwards?" Selis said and smiled, showing far too many sharp teeth. "We'll see who survives until afterwards, and then we'll decide if there is anything left fighting over. Greetings, Phaedra. It has been a long time ... or so I've been told."

"Sleep has softened your disposition," Phaedra said with a smile she could not quite hide. That won a flicker of amusement in Sellis. "Abby, your staff is singing to the fish again."

"Will you want her back now?" Brother said.

"No, I dare not," Abby said.

"I'll explain," Sellis said, taking Brother by the arm and walking a few steps down the seaside. Phaedra appeared inclined to follow, but at last she only shrugged and looked past Dacey, Silver, Tristan and Abby to the other nervous men. "We have other allies, she said. "You four must be very persuasive to pull some of the guard to our side. Or is this your doing, Dacey? I suspected you of powers --"

"It is Dacey's doing," Abby said. "But not for magical reasons. Come and I'll introduce you to some of the people you should know. We may not have much time."

Dacey gratefully let Abby take charge and followed with Silver and Tristan flanking him. A few of The People and Evin followed behind them, and Sellis and Brother hurried to catch up, both obviously worried that trouble would erupt now that they were nearing the humans.

The sight of all that movement in their direction caused some of the guards to shift position nervously as well. Dacey didn't like the feel of it at all, but he suspected that they would not spend much time here.

"May I present Lady Phaedra and Lord Brother of the People of The Night," Abby said. "And these are Princes Tain, Zevel, Clarion and Micah of the royal house of Dodano."

Silence.

"By the gods!" Brother took a step back. "What kind of madness is this? I cannot ally with Princes of the Royal House!"

"You've allied with me," Dacey said.

"Dacey, you are special for a man, and I'll help you as much as I can, but --"

"Am I? My Lord Brother, I fear that I kept something from you, though I hadn't thought it important at the time. I was born the youngest prince in the Royal House of Dodano."

"P-Prince," Brother stuttered, and then shook his head again. "This is all madness!"

Micah laughed, drawing a quick nervous look from brother.

"Forgive me, sir, but I said the same thing when I learned who Dacey was."

Brother nodded, but he still kept his hand close to his sword and looked quite unsettled by this new turn. Phaedra, however, had apparently taken everything in stride and only looked from Dacey to his brothers as though she couldn't have imagined any other answer.

"Well," she said, drawing everyone's attention. "We are here, all ready to do battle... for whatever reasons we have arrived. Where is the enemy?"

"Hesitating, I would guess," Abby said. "Unsure if she can destroy us all in one move, or if she should wait until we tire of our vigil. We must draw her out. Our alliances are uneasy, and I doubt they'll stand the test of time."

"I think I can draw her out. It's worked every time before," Dacey said.

"Using your blood," Abby answered and looked uncertain.

"It won't take much." He drew back the sleeve of his shirt, the scars from the bands of iron showing far too clearly. "Has one of you a dagger?"

Tain reluctantly pulled his dagger and stepped closer. Silver shook his head looking away. Tain brought the blade close to Dacey's wrist, and the fire swept up so fast that he almost couldn't stay to his feet.

"Be quick, my L-- Tain. Please be quick."

The knife cut a small gash in his wrist, not deep, but it still bled profusely. Tain looked shocked and started to reach for Dacey when he swayed, but Silver pulled him away. "You wear iron, Prince Tain. It burns."

Tain backed away, though not far. Silver reached with a cloth, but Dacey pulled back.

"Not yet," Dacey said. He dropped down to his knees and touched his fingers to the ground, letting the blood run down his fingers and into the dirt. "Come, enemy."

She heard; the ground moved.

Silver put a hand on Dacey's shoulder. Abby drew his sword and stepped away.

The earth and stone heaved about them. The guard looked nearly panicked, but the princes stayed their ground, and the guard would not run too quickly with them holding their place. The lines of the allies drew up before the palace, ready.

Chapter Three

Tristan moved to Abby's side, but didn't draw his own weapon. The others kept their places for the moment, and it seemed that Abby and Tristan stood alone waiting for the enemy. Abby wished that it could be so. He feared for the lives of so many come to fight a battle most of them still didn't understand. Not their war. And they were right.

"It is their war," Tristan said aloud. "It's the war of everyone who does not want to live under the control of the Kiya and the demons."

The ground shook with such violence that it put some of the spectators down to their knees. Rock and soil shot upward like a geyser. Tristan cast a ward, containing the debris before they hurt anyone. When he lowered the bright, sparkling wall, the Djinn stood on the other side, watching them.

"The mage's blood drew me, but I would have come for you anyway, bastard."

"Let us do away with titles today, shall we?" Abby said without even a flinch. He brought the sword up in his hand, and it flashed with magic in the moonlight.

"Your allies seem..." the great gold eyes turned to survey the others, "...uneasy to fight your war."

"Any who stand here are willing to fight evil, Kiya." Abby stepped closer and it stared down at him. He saw the flicker of red in the eyes, a hint of the Kiya controlling him. Did the Djinn serve her willingly?

"I have memories of Ylant," it said. Her memories, her thoughts -- Abby suspected that nothing remained of the djinn's mind. Had he been sleeping, like the Evin? Maybe they were lucky that she hadn't reached Sellis instead. "I remember how the Elf beat me. He said a name --"

"No!" Tristan shouted and started forward, but the Djinn slapped him away with a force that sent Tristan flying into the soldiers.

But the ploy had worked. It gave Abby the moment he needed to remove the crown. He tossed it to Tain. "Keep it safe."

He saw that Clarion and Zevel had helped Tristan back up. He didn't appear hurt, though obviously stunned by the removal of his link to Abby.

"You protect your elf, but nothing can protect you, can it?" Playing with him, because it knew he couldn't escape. "The sword cuts deep, doesn't it? Nuriel."

Agony raced up through is body and he dropped to his knees, the sword still clutched in his hand. He put the other hand to his chest, feeling his heart labor against the pain, pounding harder with each breath. But the agony eased, inched back away...

"Nuriel."

He lost the sword as he fell, unable to breathe. He might have called out... he didn't know since the breath caught in his lungs. He knew that he had allies somewhere... Tristan? Tristan why aren't you here?

He fought to get himself up, made it to his knees, trying to reach for the sword... and knew that the Djinn would say the word again.

Tristan moved past him, his own dagger in hand, his eyes closed. Dacey moved with him, his hands raised and casting spells in words that Abby didn't understand. Magic had its own language in every world. Abby tried to gasp at breath, to prepare for the next wave of agony. Useless. He could not fight...

Tristan reached the Djinn first, a blur of movement that seemed to surprise the creature as the elf leapt at its throat. Dacey cast as the djinn reached for Tristan. A bolt of bright blue light danced across the creature's face, blinding it, but having no affect on Tristan at all, of course. Tristan caught at the clothing of limbs the creature wore and scurried upward, avoiding the hands that reached for him. He had nearly reached the Kiya.

Abby struggled to his feet in time to see a swarm of the Kiya's creatures bound out of the shadows, attacking the soldiers, People, and Evin. Abby lifted his sword and stumbled forward to join the war that would end his curse upon this world.

And the djinn swatted him away again, laughing...

Chapter Four

Dacey moved forward, Phaedra at his side. Dacey had Silver's aid, and even he pushed her away. "Help Abby," he said, and moved closer to Silver. Not safer, he knew... but none of them were safe here.

He looked up at the djinn as its great eyes glowed red with hatred. The creature grabbed Tristan; it's huge hand squeezing. Phaedra held back no longer. She leapt at the djinn, her sword drawn and swinging. Her people took up the attack with her and Dacey watched as the Evin swept in behind the People.

Phaedra sliced deep into the dirt brown arm, and found the creature could still feel pain. The djinn screamed and dropped Tristan, turning his full attention back to those who attacked him.

"Get Tristan away!" Brother ordered as he leapt over the prone figure, dashing in to help Phaedra and the rest of the people.

Dacey reached to grab Tristan, but Clarion got to him first and lifted him while Micah protected them all. Silver held Dacey's arm, pulling him back from the fighting. He couldn't fight with the sword, and he would need to be safe when he did act. Still, it was hard for him to watch as Abby lay on the ground, and Clarion carried Tristan from the battle. Soldiers had fallen in that larger battle...

They could not lose.

Phaedra tried for the Kiya while the people and the Evin engaged the Djinn in a serious battle. It dealt with them with claws, strength and even magic. Phaedra cut the foe in several places, but the wounds healed too quickly to even slow the creature. She never slowed, either.

Dacey and Silver went to Abby, who hadn't moved since he'd fallen. His green eyes blinked at them, fear in the look that overlaid any pain. He held his hand against his side... old wound, that didn't heal. Dacey understood about the sword, the word of magic, and the curse now. He put a hand on Abby's chest and Silver kept watch while Dacey closed his eyes, oblivious to the world around them as he healed what he could. He chanted and felt the change in Abby's breathing before Abby took his hand and pushed it away, stopping the magic.

"Thank you," he whispered, and sat up, though slowly.

Micah and Clarion carried Tristan to Abby's side. The elf looked worse than Abby had, and Dacey turned his magic to Tristan immediately... and felt odd, when he touched the elf. Not human. Not one of The People, though close to them. Different. He chanted again, knowing the magic was better spent now with the moons high than to wait. Even with the battle near he didn't worry. Silver would protect him. He healed what he could in those moments, though it drained him too quickly.

"S-Silver?" he whispered, reaching for his friend when the world started to slip away. He could do no more before the moons filled him with power again.

Silver helped him to his feet, and he looked back at the battle again, to see the djinn and its creatures pushing back the defenders. Too many were injured. He suspected some had died already, but he could do nothing to help those people now.

"We must do something!" Tain said, stopping beside him, blood on his arm, his breath ragged.

Dacey looked to the Prince whose face showed rage and frustration, and then back to the djinn. It battled the people and the Evin, but he could see that no mere numbers would stop this creature. And while the soldiers did their best to hold off the Wyrdbane, but they would not survive until the moons set... when the creatures would no doubt just slip away into the night again anyway.

He did not want to fight this battle again.

"H-help me up," Abby said. He had managed to sit up on his own, his eyes looking back at the djinn with more determination than anger or fear.

Tain helped Abby to his feet, and he stayed there though he swayed when he looked back down at Tristan, who had not yet moved. Dacey could see the fear and loss in his friend's face. He put a hand to Abby's arm. "He'll be all right."

"Truly? He... He looks so hurt..." Abby's hand went to where the crown should have been. Bereft of the connection, he obviously felt lost and afraid for the friend he could not really reach now.

"Truly," Dacey reassured him. "As long as we win this battle."

Abby accepted as though that was the only reassurance he needed. He looked stronger for it when he turned back to the battle.

"Dacey, we must do our best," Abby said. He pulled away and stepped forward. "We will not fall here."

"I am yours to command," Dacey said and bowed his head. Tain gave him a strange understanding glance.

"Our only hope is that all our powers combined are more than she can call upon," Abby said. He lifted his sword and his breath caught with the little exertion and the pain. His eyes closed.

"Abby?" Silver asked softly.

"A little peace," he whispered. "A little rest."

"The battle will soon be over," Silver said softly. "And then there will be rest, one way or another."

"Yes," Abby agreed. He looked at Silver and frowned. "You wear no weapon."

"Not when I walk by the mage's side. I won't add to his torture."

"If the djinn turns on you --"

"I'll protect him," Dacey said.

Abby nodded. He moved forward toward the battle, Dacey following behind, Silver by his side. They did not question. They knew they were the last hope.

Chapter Five

Tain watched with growing despair as the soldiers fell or fled. He'd expected the latter, and he couldn't blame them. The others who remained fought as best they could... but they were not winning, and the damned djinn just seemed to call up more allies from the very air.

They could call on no one else. The townspeople hid in their houses, still believing safety lay behind those doors. He didn't know when they had all gotten to be such fools.

Panic started to take hold of him for the first time since this madness began. True, everything will be lost, panic. He looked around, wondering if he could get the others back to the castle. Wondering if he could get his brothers there at least -- and leave the others to die here, in this unholy battlefield? The djinn had to be stopped. Win or fall here. He could not go back to the palace and hide in any more safety than the townspeople had behind their doors.

He couldn't hold back -- he didn't dare this time. They could not win by diplomacy. He pulled up his sword again, even though his arm ached with the weight of it, and his legs felt like lead. Tain looked back at the monster, and the others fighting. And then he looked at Dacey, working to heal wounds, to bring Abby and Tristan back into the battle.

Gods help him. Gods help them all --

Movement at the gate. He looked back, expecting -- hoping beyond hope -- to see a few more of the guard and saw instead... his father.

The King had come out to fight in the battle. Gods be praised, the man finally realized that the world stood on the precipice. Tain bowed his head, started to turn back -- and realized that the King had lifted his sword and prepared to attack, even though no enemy stood near him.

Dacey!

Tain spun back around, the weight of exhaustion lost as he leapt toward his brother, his own sword up and ready. He feared he would not get there in time. The King saw him, hurried --

Captain Julin got there first, and swung to parry the king's swing. Dacey looked up, startled, and frightened, and scrambling away from the swords that came far too close to him. Tain breathlessly cursed as he went by, trying to keep the sword to the far side of his body. That put him in a slightly disadvantaged position as he came up to his father, and if Julin hadn't parried again, he might have lost his life because the King swung at him with the intention to kill.

He did not want to fight his father -- but he could not leave this madman to the Captain of the Guard, to make him a regicide.

And better a patricide?

"Go back," Tain told him, parrying one blow and another. "Go back, you fool!"

"I want it dead!"

Madness. Madness that Tain could see put the king beyond any reason. There would be no way to stop him short of death.

Tain struck again, trying to push the king's sword aside, to give Julin a chance disarm him. They had to get this madman under control, because even the two of them were needed back at the real battle.

"Drop the damned sword!" Clarion ordered, coming up to side with his brother.

But even so, with the three of them there -- they tried their best to wear the man down, and not to hurt him. Gods, Tain though, in the moment he took to catch his breath. Gods --

A band of Wyrdbane broke through the wall of soldiers and charged straight at them. Tain only turned in time because of Zev's cry of warning. He swung at one of the creatures and killed it even as the thing's claws tore through his arm. A half dozen more had fallen in around them, and it was all that Tain could do to keep them back from the king.

Julin went down, but he took two Wyrdbane with him, and by the Gods, Tain hoped the man survived this. Clarion killed one, another --

And their father, their good great king, leapt past the enemy, and charged for Dacey's unprotected back.

Tain screamed and spun, not even thinking about the enemy at his own back. Something sent fiery claws down his spine, but he was moving away, and the injury was only -- he hoped -- skin deep.

Silver got between the king and Dacey. Silver, without a weapon, offering his own life in that moment, just to slow the madman. That was honor made flesh.

Praise the Gods that Dacey grabbed his friend and they both tumbled as the king swung at them, and cut Dacey's arm --

And then Tristan rose. Tristan, swaying, and... casting. Magic.

The king howled as light danced before his face. Howled like the creatures around them, sounding no more human then the Wyrdbane. But Tristan was weak... the light faltered.

Not too soon.

Tain faced his father.

"Put down the sword," Tain said one last time. "Do so, or be counted as much an enemy as the djinn and the Wyrdbane."

And the king, Gods curse him, did not believe him. He snarled and brought his sword up.

And Tain killed him. That quickly. That easily, in the end. As the body fell, he could not even say he regretted it much. Maybe he would later. But not now, not here, where the man had done nothing to save his world, and done everything to see it damned.

"Tain," Dacey whispered, looking at him, blood flowing from his arm. "Gods, Tain. I'm sorry. I --"

"You have done nothing wrong," Tain said. He nudged the body, amazed that his father didn't get back up again. He had been that obstinate, after all. "You did nothing that caused this, nor did he do anything that helped. In the end, Dacey, he was everything that I said -- as much an enemy as the djinn."

Dacey still looked stunned, even while Silver dealt with that wound. It had to be painful, iron and the cut. Tain couldn't imagine how the boy stood up so well to all of this.

And behind him the djinn screamed again.

He turned to see Abby once again attacking. Abby, who did not belong to this world, and who had no reason to protect them, and yet, he took a wound from a Wyrdbane as he tried to get between it and one of the downed soldiers.

He'd have cursed his father right then, if he had the time -- would have truly and really cursed the dead man to hell.

Instead he turned away and hurried back to the battle, Clarion at his side, silent and hard-faced. There would be no turning back.

And no matter what happened now, the world had changed.

He found strength at seeing Captain Julin, back to his feet though blood was running down his arms and chest. He swayed, but he stayed to his feet, somehow. The man bowed to him. "Sire," he said. "Your orders?"

Sire.

Gods all...

He was now king, wasn't he? Well, if that were so, then by the Gods he was going to do it right, for however long Dodano was in his hands. It gave him strength, that realization.

"Do your best, Captain. Just do your best. There is no other hope left."

Julin nodded, lifted his sword two handed, and went into battle with his King.

Chapter Six

The djinn had magical protection of a type that Abby didn't understand. Though the swords and claws cut deep into the monster, the wounds didn't bleed much, and quickly healed. Abby watched as Dacey cast a spell that sent fire against the creature's unprotected arm. It must have stung at least, because it dropped one of the People and turned bright red eyes to Dacey as it growled.

Abby leapt forward and cut deep into the djinn's leg with God's Honor. The creature howled and shook off another Evin that had almost reached the Kiya.

"The magic of the sword still bites does it?" Abby asked, half gone to a new madness now. No demons here, and even the Kiya's demon-made soul not close enough to call him. But he called up his own madness instead, glad that Tristan was not here to temper it this time. He needed the strength it gave him. He only hoped the companion of his soul would recover. Please-- but he stopped himself in time. He dared not ask such a thing of the gods. And he must face his enemy alone.

Alone? Dacey, Silver, Phaedra, Brother, Sellis, Tain, Zevel, Clarion and Micah came close around him. Knowing he did not truly stand alone before the enemy gave him unexpected strength when he looked up at the djinn and stared into the Kiya's eyes.

"I've come for you," he said evenly.

"Fool," the creature said and knocked three of the People aside. But Abby noticed something else. He thought the other creatures fighting the soldiers might have lost some of their fierceness when the Kiya looked at him, as though she could not focus on anything but him. Good. He could help that way, at least. "My Lord Prince Aubreyan Altazar, I hold your fate on the tip of my tongue. Shall I pronounce the word again? How long would you survive if I repeated the name of the cursed sword... again and again?

"I would survive," Abby replied with an uncommon calmness he hadn't know he could still possess on his own. "You cannot kill me that way."

"No?" It slapped aside an Evin with enough force to send it flying against the wall around the palace. "Then all I could hope for is to torture you through eternity. So be it."

Abby lifted his sword and still met the great red eyes with a steady stare. The war seemed to stand still and the battle became for a moment what it had always been, and was meant to be -- Aubreyan Altazar against the Kiya Chanda Andee.

He stepped forward.

"Nuriel!"

The fire pulsed through him, the pain so deep that no part of his body didn't feel on fire. But somehow his mind moved just above the pain this time, acknowledging it, but knowing he would survive. He kept to his feet, his clear eyes looking up into the face of the djinn.

It backed away. "Nuriel!"

Fire upon fire. Agony. He stepped forward and lifted the sword two-handed while his arms shook. But they did not fail him.

"You can't," it whispered and backed up again.

"I am Aubreyan Altazar," he said, his voice steady, though soft. "And I inherited not only from my father, but also my mother's blood. I am more than a match for ... a mere staff."

And he realized the truth of the words as he spoke them. He accepted that he was his mother's child, and the gifts of her blood gave him powers he must use. Powers that were beyond those of man, or even mage.

"Nuriel!" it cried out again, but terror filled the voice this time.

He hardly felt the agony. "Djinn," he said, looking up into the fire red eyes. "Stay where you are."

The creature stopped its retreat and stood stone still for a long moment as the eyes blinked with confusion. Abby knew he couldn't hold it for long as his body weakened, pain and fire burning away his strength.

Tristan, if only you were with me.

Instead, he saw Dacey move between him and the Djinn, fearless as though he believed no harm could befall him... or as though he no longer cared if he died. Abby feared that to be the real truth, and remembered being that boy... and feared that he still was.

Dacey lifted his hand, using magic to reach for the Kiya. He might have gotten her, but at the last moment, the djinn tore his eyes away from Aubreyan with a growl of anger, and reached for the mage.

"No!" Abby shouted.

Commanded. The djinn stopped again, the great hand trembling where it had almost touched Dacey. The Kiya glowed with her own power, trying to reassert control over the djinn...

Power like a flicker of light pulsed through the eyes of the djinn, held immobile between two forces while they fought for control of its body. Abby saw when Dacey's magic finally reached her, spreading around the Kiya in a shell of his own.

Panic gave her strength. She forced one hand free and knocked the mage aside, his magic dying with a quick gasp of surprise, though he surged back to his feet, and Abby could see determination just in the way he stood. And in that moment of worry for the mage, he lost his own hold on her.

Silver had moved up beside Dacey, helping to steady the mage as he began a different spell this time, the chant long and filled with such power that Abby could sense it growing, though she never seemed to notice, her attention back on Abby again. And he needed to keep it there.

"Bastard," the Kiya said, her voice a hiss of anger. Its own hands rose and it growled out words that were alien to the creature. Casting as well, and he realized that without Tristan he had no way to ward himself. He took a step backwards, but he knew that he'd never retreat fast enough.

The djinn cast even as Dacey finished some longer spell. The djinn's spell had a more immediate affect as a ball of fire leapt from wood colored and gnarled fingers and swept straight for him. He could do nothing as he lifted his hands in a gesture of useless protection. Warmth brushed his fingers... and died.

The flame died.

"Not that easy, Djinn," Phaedra said as she stepped beside Abby. "Not while we stand at his side. And who shall stand with you now that we kill all your followers?"

The djinn's eyes flashed again with anger. Its hand raised, its mouth opened.

No sound.

Abby could see the mouth moving and realized something was wrong even before the Kiya did. He looked up at the creature with shocked surprise, and then back to Dacey who had lowered his hands, his spell cast.

"Now let's see you hurt Abby," Phaedra said, stepping closer to the wild-eyed creature. "Give me your sword, Abby. You don't look steady enough to carry it, let alone use it. And I saw that the djinn cannot as easily heal those wounds."

"She's silenced, but not helpless," he said. He felt the fire of the cursed sword still trying to take him. Without the battle with the Kiya to keep his attention, he feared it would succumb. "Together, we must try --"

"We know," Phaedra said. She pried the sword from Abby's hand.

He didn't want to let go, and in the moment that weapon left him, he felt another surge of the pain wash up through his body, leaving him shaky. Tain caught hold of him, barely keeping him to his feet. He could not hold on for much longer.

"Aubreyan, we better stay close together for a while," Tain said. Abby could see that he gave Phaedra a worried look.

She reached out and lightly touched her fingers on his face. He could feel a little whisper of magic that pushed the pain back for a moment longer. He looked into Phaedra's eyes, nodding his thanks. She seemed confused, uncertain.

"I'm sorry I can't do more," she whispered and looked at Tain. "Keep him safe."

"I will."

She spun away and darted toward the djinn. The creature's face had grown livid in rage, and though it couldn't whisper the magic it held, it still held the strength of a body. It slapped Dacey aside, and Silver with him, though they both scrambled back to their feet yet again. Abby hoped that they could finally destroy it before the creature and the Kiya recovered their reasoning.

"No time," he said, looking at Tain. "We must move now. God's Honor bites deep, and it will anger the creature. She's going to need our help. We dare not hold back."

Brother had moved up beside Phaedra. Dacey and Silver had retreated back to his position near Tain. Even Tristan, praise the Gods, had made it to his feet, although he didn't look likely to stay there. No matter, Abby thought. This battle wasn't going to last much longer.

The Kiya's other creatures had either all died or fled. That meant they had the one thing that might work... mass to move against this creature with superhuman strength.

"Prince Tain, you must bring your men into the battle. Silver, can you direct the Evin to try to take the djinn from behind with the men? The People, I think, will have the best chance of attacking from the front, since that's where the Kiya is most likely to direct her magic. Dacey, you will have to help them if you can."

"I'm locked to the one spell just now," he said, breathlessly. Obviously holding the spell in check was no easy task. "I don't know how long I can do this. But if it fails, I'll do what I can."

"And you," Tristan asked Abby, a hand grabbing his arm. "What will you do?"

"I'll take the Kiya. I know it's safe in my hands. I would hate for her to grab any of the others now, when we've so little power left to take her away again. I don't want to have to kill a friend to save everyone else."

Tristan had started to protest. Instead, his fingers tightened and then let go. "Be careful."

Abby started to nod, and then felt the panic at realizing Tristan did not know, nor could he feel what Abby offered. "I'll... I'll be careful," he said.

"Take back the crown. Let me help you."

"Not yet. Not until I'm sure she cannot use my weakness against you. Be well, Tristan. I need you."

Tristan bowed his head, understanding that there would be times beyond this battle.

The Evin and the soldiers had already begun their attack against the creature. Abby hurried forward with the others before the Kiya could turn to attack. And he was right... when he and the others neared, she did little more than try to shove the others away.

Phaedra had stepped back, winded. Brother, beside her, suddenly reached into the dark night sky, and it seemed that he drew down a star, and threw it into her face. For a moment, the Kiya not only stood mute, but blind.

Abby went straight for the Kiya while the others attacked. Tristan somehow kept up with him, and though he would not dare the link just yet, he still felt better for having his friend close by. Then, as he climbed up the limbs and branches, he wondered if needing Tristan wasn't an addiction -- more of a problem than an aid.

No. They were two souls joined. And when this battle was done, he would gladly take back the crown.

To be done with the war...

He reached up, the Kiya almost within reach. The Kiya knew he came, though, and tried to reach for him, knocking him back down again. He almost cursed, but with Tristan's help, he got back to his feet and stood. Then he looked to see Phaedra swing his sword with a practiced ease that almost made him jealous. She was a fighter and a mage. Why could they not have sent one such as her to fight the battle? She looked capable of winning.

The sword cut deep into the flesh, muscles and bone just above the djinn's knee. Abby saw the star-blinded eyes go wide, and the mouth open in a roar that would have deafened them. Phaedra swung again. The djinn went down to his knees... and suddenly the Kiya was within reach. Abby grabbed, his fingers curling around the wood. Fire burnt along his arm, a sharp pain that threatened to release the others he had so carefully buried. Tristan caught him and quickly he pulled him back, and he cursed as he lost hold of her again. He had been senseless for a moment, and only now saw the great hand swinging down at him. Dacey had grabbed them both out of the way.

Gasping for breath, Abby surveyed the great monster flailing about before them, hoping to catch any of the enemy. Panicked and dangerous, it stumbled back to its feet, swaying and enraged.

"I can't seem to take her," Abby said. "She's still using magic --"

"The magic used to protect the Kiya -- it's of your world," Dacey quickly explained. He looked pale and breathless as well, trembling so much that Abby wondered how he stayed to his feet. "I cannot directly countermand a spell I do not know. Tristan can you --"

"I'm an elf," he sand and shook his head. "My magic is like that of the People. I don't know the Kiya's magic either, and I fear I don't have time to test it out."

"Then I'll have to do it another way. A harder way." Dacey looked at Abby. "I can stop all magic in the area, deaden it for a few moments at least."

"All magic?" Abby said and looked up at the moons. Gods, they were drifting across the sky too quickly.

"Only as long as I can hold the spell," Dacey replied. "The spell is difficult, and it will drain my reserves while I do it."

The djinn suddenly reached for them, and Abby thought it understood too well what they had said, even with the others attacking and keeping its notice away from them. Dacey pulled back, Silver at his side, glaring at the creature.

"None of you shall be able to use magic either," Dacey said. "But I don't see any other way to neutralize her."

"Do it," Abby said. He could see shadows moving in on them again -- more creatures come to her power. "Quickly."

Dacey stepped back again and bowed his head, silent for a long moment. Abby watched the djinn, hoping that this worked because he feared that having faced her tonight she would know their weaknesses if they had to face her again. He did not think they could win in such a battle, and suspected that they might not even draw in as many allies as they had now.

Tristan's hand tightened on his arm as Dacey began to chant.

Wyrdbane came from the shadows -- not many of them, and some wounded already. The guards turned back to that battle, leaving the Evin and The People to deal with the djinn who still reached blindly for Dacey.

But his brothers placed themselves around Dacey, their weapons ready. Abby felt a wave of hope in that moment, and pulled that feeling into his heart, because they had to hope for better than this war. They had to fight to bring right to this world again. He believed Dacey would come out of this war better than he had gone in, but only if they survived.

Then Abby felt a strange unease, a sudden dizziness that swept through him and left him breathless and ill.

Tristan went to his knees, gasping as he looked more startled than afraid. Phaedra followed and the sword in her hand lost its glow. The People and even the Evin had gone down. All that they had left were the humans.

And Abby.

"No magic," Abby said, realizing the full implications. The Evin, The People and Tristan were all too closely entwined with magic, and Dacey had taken away the air that they breathed. Even the Djinn had begun to gasp. The great red eyes blinked back the last tears of blindness and turned to fix Abby with an icy stare.

"You and I, bastard," the Kiya said, gasping.

"As it has always been," Abby replied, wondering why he should feel so dizzy at the loss of magic, even when he was not linked to Tristan.

"I still have claw and tooth, and from the look of your mage, he shall not hold out for long."

"Yes," Abby agreed. He pulled Gods Honor from Phaedra's trembling fingers. She looked at him, gasping, afraid. "Not long," he said.

And he attacked, cutting deep into the djinn's leg. It bled and did not heal. And when the creature swept long claws around at him, he found others attacking as well. Tain and Zevel fought to keep the creature's arms at bay, and Abby stabbed again and again, finally bringing it down to its knees once more. After the next cut, the djinn's right arm hung useless at its side, blood staining the ground. Abby reached for the Kiya, but the djinn moved faster, pulling the staff free and holding it tight in the left hand.

Angered, Abby jabbed at the chest, the sword going deep, almost catching this time. He pulled back barely in time as the left arm swung around at him. The hand that held the Kiya came within reach, and down he swept the sword, cutting across the wrist. Even without magic, the sword cut deep, smashing into bone. Blood gushed and the djinn screamed, pulling back and falling. Abby darted forward and swung the sword against the fingers now, severing two --

It dropped the Kiya. Abby grabbed her, and though she still stung, it was not nearly as much as she had before. He felt the evil that was the true heart of her power, but they both knew she had no control over him. Gasping for breath, he backed away as the Djinn struggled back up, great golden eyes glaring at him -- gold again, now that the Kiya no longer held it.

But from the look in those eyes, Abby could tell that the djinn had been a willing slave. He wasn't surprised since there had never been a moment's hesitation in the attacks.

Phaedra had fallen senseless in the ground. He hurried past her, and past Tristan who somehow had stayed to his knees still, and dropped a hand on Dacey's shoulder.

"Let go, Dacey. It's done."

Dacey lowered his hands and shuddered. Even Silver couldn't keep him to his feet this time. He knelt with the mage, looking pale and worried. Aubreyan felt the change as the magic came back. Phaedra gasped as though she had been drowning, and Tristan lifted his head, a shaky hand reaching toward the sky and the moons.

When Abby looked back, he felt a chill. The djinn had healed half its wounds, and the golden eyes bore into him, with anger he could see.

"Bastard," it said, a voice that held no hint of the Kiya, but still conveyed the same anger. "Nuriel."

Abby had not been prepared.

Fire, agony and a cry that must have been his own -- he saw Dacey try to stand, but his legs gave way. Silver did make it to his feet, but the djinn had as well, and knocked both mage and Silver aside as it took a step forward. With an already half healed hand, it reached for the Kiya. Abby tried to roll away, holding the Kiya closer, even while he felt her calling to the Djinn. He saw the soldiers moving in, but none of the magicians had regained enough power to help.

"Nuriel."

The pain drove so deep that Abby convulsed, the Kiya dropping out of his fingers as the Djinn leaned over to grab her again. He couldn't even call to the Gods for help...

Lightning reached down from the star-studded sky, fire that struck the back of the Djinn's unprotected head. It fell, dead, across him.

The fire followed Abby into the darkness.

"Abby?" Tristan whispered. "Abby? Prince Tain, put the crown on him. I can't tell --"

"No," Abby said, the word dredged up from somewhere in the depths of his swirling mind. He did not want Tristan linked to him while he felt like this. He forced his eyes open to a cold, wintry night. Tristan's magic light illuminated the area around him. Friends clustered around. "Not yet. A while longer."

"Abby," he said, with relief in his face. "Rest. We're safe. We won."

"H- How?" he asked, and held his breath as a spasm of pain worked up through his legs and disappeared into a dull ache. "The djinn nearly had the K-Kiya again."

"Lightning," Tristan said. He looked worried again. "It wasn't me, Phaedra or any of the other People. None of us had regained the ability to even fully breathe yet. Even the djinn should have been slowed, but I think he still held a great deal of the Kiya's power in him."

"Dacey? Did Dacey --"

"No. He hadn't the power left. You didn't ask...?"

"No!"

Tristan frowned. "How?" he asked again. "Who?"

"Silver," Dacey said as he stepped closer to the group with the help of Silver, and a startled Micah. Abby looked at him, confused. Surely he hadn't answered... "Forgive me, my lords, but Silver and I thought it best to keep the secret to ourselves. If the Kiya had taken any of you, she could have learned there was another mage. We thought the secret might be our best weapon."

The djinn's body was lying just an arm's reach away, quite dead. He shuddered when he looked at it, and then turned back to Dacey and Silver.

"How? When?" Abby asked, and finally managed to sit up with Tristan's reluctant help. He didn't dare try for more, but then no one seemed anxious to move, even out of the cold.

"Last night, my lord," Silver said. His voice sounded steady and Abby could see no regret in his face at all. "While the rest of you thought we rested, he taught me what he could for our defense."

"I am amazed, Silver," Prince Tain said and looked at him. "By learning magic, you have cut yourself off from the rest of your people and all that you had been --"

"I know," Silver said. He gave a little shrug and put a hand on Dacey's shoulder, since the mage had started to look troubled again. "We discussed this already, Dacey. We knew this would happen, and I wasn't blind to the change. But, in truth -- Prince Tain, how could I have ever gone back to what I had been? I have walked with mages, Evin and the People of the Night. No one would ever have accepted me as the same again... and they would have been right. Even without the magic of my own, I had changed."

"So you renounced your world," Phaedra said. She sat on the ground beside Abby. Brother -- bleeding and wild eyed, but standing -- came to guard her back. "What will happen to you now?"

"I'll stay with Dacey," he said, and his hand tightened on his friend's arm. "We'll see what happens."

"Things will be different," Tain promised. He looked at the fallen djinn and then at the castle. "By the Gods, it will be different!"

Abby nodded.

Interlude in Hell

Tabor leaned back on his heels, gasping still. Damn that sword and what it had done to them – to him. What did he care what it did to the godling?

What did he care?

That thought sent a shiver through Tabor that left him gasping again. He didn't care. He didn't dare to care.

And he felt his father calling him. He'd want the next piece of the Kiya, and he had only barely caught hold of it when the pain from the sword hit. It was a wonder that he'd managed to bring it back with him, through all that madness. But he found the piece in his hand, the runes moving, the evil whispering at him. He hadn't heard it this time.

As though... he had changed.

The call from his father came stronger, prickling at him with a little whisper of pain. It was nothing compared to what that damned sword had done to him. Tabor held the piece of the Kiya tighter in his hand as he stood.

He took the long walk back to his father's throne room, to the place of blood, dread, evil and darkness. The evil had no pull over him, of course. But suddenly he looked at the room and felt such contempt for this pitiful display of power that it stunned him. He'd never felt that way before.

Braith stood by his father. It was in Braith's face that he could see pleasure, longing, lust. Not good.

"I have just recovered another piece of the Kiya, father," Tabor said, and bowed his head, holding the trinket out.

"And lost a piece to the godling."

"I cannot be in more than one place," Tabor said. "In the end, no matter what, he must come here. If we hold at least as many pieces as he does, does that not give us more power?"

Wrong thing to say.

"I have always been more powerful than the Godling," Gix hissed. He waved his hand, sending Tabor flying. He hit the wall, and something broke, somewhere. He didn't dare try to heal the damage, not here, not with his father in that mood. He just slid to the floor, his head back against the wall, as he gasped. "While you sat in your little room playing at magic, the Godling got another piece. But we -- my faithful Braith and I -- we have worked to stop the Godling at last. We will do what you could not."

And in that moment... in that moment, Tabor understood far more about his father than Gix likely wanted him to know. He understood that the demon feared him. Feared his success. Would turn rather to the failures of Braith than risk his son... winning.

Tabor bowed his head. Not in deference, not in fear of his father -- but in fear that his look would say too much. Because in that moment...in that moment, Tabor considered many unthinkable things.

He stayed by the wall, ignored, until Gix and Braith finally left. Braith kicked him on the way out.

Oh, there was one who would do well to reconsider how he treated Tabor. Though, in truth, it was far too late for him anyway.

When Gix and his toady left, Tabor finally dared a touch of magic to heal something broken in his lower back. Even so, every movement brought agony -- but that was the nature of this place. Even the magic to heal often came with the taint of pain.

Things would change when...

But he didn't even dare think that. Not here in this room. He left, limping and whispering little curses, going down and down to his corner of this wretched hovel.

He remembered Mindeneh's bright glass castle. If he ... Well, if he had the chance, things would change here.

Yes, his father had every reason to fear him. He realized that now -- now that he looked at the future rather than living in the present, the errand boy for a creature that he no longer cared to serve.

He wondered what Abby would do now...

Chapter Seven

The people of the city marveled that spring had come so early this year, after the dark horrors of the winter. The bright profusion of flowers and green seemed to show that the world had really been awakened from a long, troubled slumber.

Some of the people even openly said the beauty came because magic had returned to Dodano.

The pious prayed each day at the temple, asking that the sinners be blighted, be destroyed, and be sent to everlasting tortures. However, those sinners walked the streets in peace, despite the prayers. Some of the self-righteous citizens had decided they couldn't bear to live with such blasphemy and took the first spring ships for far places. Others just never lived to see the spring, choosing death to acceptance.

The Queen had retreated to the country estate, unable to bear the sight of her returned son, though not, Dacey knew, because she hated him. He could not forgive her, and she could not forget. Dacey feared that his brothers would resent that his presence sent her away... but he never saw it in their faces.

The wives and children would be returning within the next month. That frightened him, too. He would ask if King Tain would allow him his own place -- an estate outside the city. A quiet, peaceful place for just himself and Silver.

But he would miss the others. He had come to enjoy the company of laughing Clarion, of shy Zev, of studious Micah -- and caring Tain.

Dacey thought it wondrous that so many people seemed surprisingly willing to accept all that had come to pass and the subsequent changes. He and Silver were careful not to flaunt their powers before the people, though. They were content to let the others ignore, if not accept, them.

At night the streets were not as deserted as they had been, though there were still fewer citizens than there were Evin and People. Most often he and Silver went out to meet with old friends; mages, princes, and others. And while not all the people came out to join in the festivities, some did look from windows that had once been barred and closed.

But this night he stood on the cliff side with the others, waiting for Phaedra and Brother to arrive. The Evin had come as well. Though not tied to the night like the People, they still tended to come down to the city only when their old friends were about.

Dacey and Silver stood by Abby and Tristan -- and Dacey watched Phaedra as she arrived. The joy in her face dampened as she looked around the group and nodded. She already knew.

Abby had the sword and the Janin... at least that problem had been settled by the death of the djinn so that the promise and spell had been broken. Even so, Abby had not carried either in the last few weeks.

"Going now, are you?" Brother asked, his voice uncommonly soft.

"I'm afraid so, my lord," Abby answered, polite as always. He bowed his head to the two... this child of a goddess who still somehow thought himself unworthy before them.

"Where will you go?" Phaedra asked, sadness in her voice, like the whisper of winter returned.

"Wherever the Kiya leads us," Abby answered. He shrugged. "We never know where that might be."

"We are grateful for the time we've had here," Tristan added. "I have not had such peace since --"

He stopped and looked at his feet.

Abby laughed. "You might as well finish, Tristan. You've not had such peace since you met me."

"I fear it's true," Tristan agreed. He laughed a little over his own embarrassment. "But even still, there is nothing I have regretted. No, that's not true either. I have always regretted the need to say good-bye to so many friends."

"Yes," Abby agreed. He looked at Dacey. "I've always regretted that part."

Phaedra dared a hand on Abby's shoulder. For once he hardly flinched, and she met his quizzical look with a smile. "Aubreyan, whatever you may be, I wish you peace. I know the war you fight is necessary, and you know it as well, or you wouldn't go on --"

"No. You give me more honor than I deserve. I go because a friend died in battle, and for the return of his life, I agreed to find the Kiya. Nothing more."

Phaedra smiled with a shake of her head and Abby looked confused. "Ah, and that certainly makes you less honorable, even if I believed it were all of the truth."

"I truly wish you could stay," Dacey said at last. He felt the moments slipping away too quickly. The moons were high overhead, and his friends would be gone long before they set. "I wish we had more time, Abby."

"So do I." Abby smiled in a way that made Dacey feel as though... as though they were brothers. "Find peace, Prince Dacey. Make your world whole again. I gave the light back to my world. You can return beauty to yours."

"I will do what I can," Dacey said. "Silver and I both will."

"I always regret going. The battles done, the friends safe... but time to go on," Abby said. "If we stayed, the battle would come back, and I couldn't wish that for anyone."

Tristan pulled the piece of the Kiya from his pouch and unwrapped her from the warded cloth he and Dacey had created to keep the pieces apart from each other. Dacey could feel the magic, but he shied away from the wood faster than he would have even from metal.

"Put a ward about us, Dacey and Silver," Tristan said. "And then we'll be on our way."

Dacey began the spell. Silver, less certain of his powers still, wove his own magic in with Dacey's. A sparkling of lights rose up around the two.

"Find peace my friends," Prince Tain called out in that last moment.

Abby bowed, but by then the sand had already begun to fly around them, swirling up in a tunnel of magic. Dacey thought a bright sun suddenly stood over the two -- but they did not look towards it. Abby looked back at his friends on the shore and his hand started to lift -- but he stopped. He took hold of Tristan's arm instead.

"Gods be with you," Brother whispered beside Dacey. "Gods protect you, and let you pass this way again. Peace."

They were going, moving away along a path that Dacey might have traveled with them, if he hadn't found he had a home here after all. But he stayed in his place to do what Abby truly wished for this world... to bring it hope, peace, beauty and understanding.

And at that last moment, Dacey didn't wish Abby and Tristan peace as the others had. He wished them acceptance, knowing that was harder. He understood Abby's fears. They were too much like his.

And suddenly they were gone.

Dacey knew it would be a long time before he recovered from the loss, and he would never forget the friends who had helped him and his world. He and Silver lowered their wards, and before them they found only unmarked stone, as though the two had never been.

But Phaedra sang...

Sweet, sweet

Sad, sad

Longing for friends to return...

Dacey had begun weaving magic before he realized the words and movements had come to him. Where they had stood moments before his magic grew leaves of crystal, flowers of light reaching towards the sky. A dozen blossoms opened, each a different shade of rainbow light. Give them beauty, Abby had told him -- but this was for him and Tristan.

When he pulled his hand back, a soft breeze blew from the shore, and the leaves whispered like a dozen faint bells in the night. All who stood here would know that something magical had come to pass....

The End