Zerah Prophecy

Book One

A Novel by Ann Bakshis

Copyright © 2018 by Ann Bakshis

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living and dead, actual event, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Published by Ponahakeola Press, 2018

Typeset in Garamond and Andale Mono

For my daughter Ellee.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

ONE

My father’s pyre ceremony is in a couple of hours. Michael and I are both still in shock with his sudden passing, but our mother is taking it rather well. She and Michael are gathering clothes to dress my father while I sit on the couch in the living room, numb. It was only last week that he became ill, which came on suddenly. No one at the hospital in the village of Tanis couldn’t figure out why or how, which is strange since they’re so advanced in medicines and immunizations. We haven’t had any significant diseases in hundreds of years, so for someone to suddenly die without a known cause leaves everyone wondering.

“Aven, did you call the carriage?” my mother calls to me from down the hall.

I stand, enter the kitchen, and pick up the receiver. I have to crank the handle several times to generate the needed power to make the call. It’s an old device, so outdated that I’m surprised it still works, but it’s the only way to communicate here in the village of Haile. The phones in Tanis are much more sophisticated, but that’s because they have all the advancements handed to them to ensure our health and well-being.

“Livery, please,” I say to the woman who answers the line. The tone on the phone switches and a click lets me know I’m connected. “Carriage to the kerk needed.” I give the man our address and hang up.

“The carriage is on its way,” I yell to my mother, then promptly sit back down on the couch.

Michael peers around the corner. “Is that what you’re wearing?” he asks.

I cross my arms to cover my bare midriff since the black shirt I’m wearing isn’t long enough. My legs are covered in only stockings and a skirt. “Yes. Dad didn’t judge my clothing, so you shouldn’t either,” I snap.

“You’re going to freeze at the henge,” he says, then leaves.

I know he’s right, but I’m just not in the mood to care right now. Our father just died this morning, and our religion dictates that he be burned the same day as his death. Those who have family are cremated the day they die since there’s already someone who can take care of whatever has been left behind. For someone who doesn’t have any family to be cremated, the dean who’s in charge of our religious practices needs to wait two days before he can conduct the pyre ceremony. This gives the elders time to place the person’s effects into order. I don’t understand the necessity of such a hasty ritual, but I’m not one to argue with tradition.

My mother emerges from her room carrying a suit, just as the bell for the door chimes. I slip on my winter coat, pull up the hood, and venture down the steps. The three of us cram into the back of the carriage, which heads towards the City of Delphi.

Our village sits along the city’s border to the east and southeast. It’s a quiet little hamlet filled with charming shops, schools, and a few taverns. Haile is the most relaxed of the four villages that surround Delphi. Otrar, which covers the northern border, has the strictest laws. The religious orders, along with our security force, occupy that village. The Sacrer seminaries have slowly been collapsing over the years, as a new sect called the Mitris arrived. No one is sure where they came from, just that their popularity is spreading. We’ve been told by our dean that their followers are filled with corruption and are hungry for power, which makes them dangerous. I think Dean Chares is the last of the original Sacrer to have successfully left Otrar. Those who are studying to follow the ways of the Sacrer religion are still in seminary, which takes decades of learning, but many are falling away from the Ancient religion and moving towards the Mitris.

No one is sure why.

In order to enter the city, we have to cross the large river that divides it from its villages. Each has one cobblestone bridge as the only gateway in. Our destination is the kerk, a cathedral which sits in the center of the city. Its dome roof is supported only by columns, which allow people in the vestibule of the kerk to see all sides of Delphi. It was meant to be symbolic at one time, but the meaning has been lost over the generations. The true sanctuary is below the surface, as is the historical archive and Dean Chares’ quarters. I’ve only seen the sanctuary once, which was on the day of my blessing. Every child is blessed in ethereal water at the age of seven, purifying them and setting their place in society. History states that the water for the blessing comes from an aquifer hidden in the Valley of Dearmad, made pure by the ashes of our ancestors. I’m not one to believe in old wives’ tales but my mother thinks it’s true, and my brother does as well.

The carriage stops on the east side of the kerk. We step out, climb the narrow steps, and enter the vestibule. There’s a series of staircases situated between every other column allowing access to the sanctuary. My mother and Michael start down, but I stay.

“Aren’t you coming?” Michael asks.

“I can’t. I’ll wait for you up here.”

He gives me a frown, but doesn’t push.

The wind whips through the vestibule since it’s completely open to the elements. I bury my hands in my pockets to try to keep them warm. I’m not sure how long I’ll have to wait, so I find myself walking the tight pattern of the green marble covering the floor. The elaborate design moves gracefully from one end of the structure to the other. The longer I trace the pattern the dizzier I become, so I stop. Michael, our mother, and Dean Chares emerge a few moments later just as a carriage pulls up. It’s different than the ones I’ve typically ridden in: it has an extended bed in the back, a small buggy at the front behind the driver, and is draped all in black. I notice a cloth-wrapped body in the bed of the carriage. It’s my father. Dean Chares climbs into the back while the three of us get into the buggy. The carriage heads north to Otrar, where we will take the Sojourner’s Path to the Valley of Dearmad. The pyre ceremony is a private one, held only for family. The ride to the valley will take a little over an hour. The lane is lined with thick trees to prevent those traveling from seeing the seminary schools. Only those who have been destined for those lives may witness what is involved. It’s kept a secret from the rest of us.

I lean against my mother, who wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me against her. She begins to sing a melody I’ve heard all my life, which brings me comfort. She does it in such a way that I’m the only one who can hear her. She’s never sung it to Michael or my father, just to me. I’m not sure why, but I like that it’s a special bond the two of us have. Worry takes over the calm that has finally settled over me. With our father gone, this makes Michael and me much more vulnerable to the lies and rumors that have been spread since our birth. Especially since our father’s death was under non-natural circumstances.

Michael and I have never really had a peaceful existence. We were twins born into a society that hasn’t seen such an event in hundreds of years. Our birth made headlines in all the villages. Many of them showing congratulations to the couple, with only a few condemning them. Our parents lost some lifelong friends when they discovered she’d been carrying twins. Michael and I are treated a little differently than most people our age. Some citizens embrace us and look to us as a new beginning for our world. Others see us as a threat, something to be feared, because it’s strange and unknown. Some even consider our birth to be unnatural.

Our parents have kept us well hidden, but as we grew they had to let us venture out and discover our own identities. We’ve always been told by Dean Chares, the historian and priest of Delphi, that having twins is a miracle from a higher being. That it should be celebrated, embraced, and honored. However, since the last set was born over three hundred years ago, society’s tune has changed. Fear took over. Many attributed the end of the last plague, known as the Mors Plague to no more multiple births, in fact, it was improved medical procedures and medicines that cured the city of it. Twins were a sign of darker times to come. Illness was said to return and sweep over much of the land. It doesn’t mean that the community has let us live in peace. Many feel our parents are preventing us from doing harm to everyone, which is why nothing has happened. But now with our father gone, who knows what people will say? I don’t think they’ll relax until Michael and I are dead.

Dean Chares is the only person we’ve known our whole lives. Our parents have sought his counsel almost on a weekly basis since our birth, for fear of what the other citizens might do to us once we move away from our parents. He can easily calm the nerves of everyone, but still there are threats to our existence and rumors about the harm we’ll supposedly bring to the world. Even after nineteen years, people still talk.

I must have fallen asleep, as I hear my mother calling for me to wake through closed eyes. We’re deep in the valley; tall green hills encircle the area, blocking us from the villages and the city. The only structure in the whole valley is a large, stone pillar henge that sits at the very bottom of the valley floor. The driver assists the dean with our father’s remains, while Michael and I light the torches that circle the pyre in the center of the henge. Once the body is properly positioned, the dean says a few prayers in a language I don’t understand. Michael and my mother each take a torch, and as soon as the prayers are over they light the pyre. I should be following suit, but I can’t do that to my father. I was too close to him, like Michael is with our mother.

We stay until the sun has set and the fire dies down. Any remains that don’t burn are entombed under the pyre. That process is not viewed by the family; the dean will come back another day to dispose of what’s left. We climb into the carriage and return to the kerk. Another carriage picks us up and takes us back to our dwelling. We live in a five-story apartment building; our apartment is on the third floor towards the back of the structure. As soon as we’re inside, our mother heads to her room to rest. Michael gets dinner ready while I set the table. I grab four place settings and don’t catch myself until I’m almost done. I quickly put the extra pieces back before Michael notices.

Mother says she isn’t hungry, but I set a plate aside for her in case she is later. I clean the dishes while Michael heads off to his room. I’m glad to be alone; it’ll make my escape that much easier. I wait another hour before venturing back outside. The plaza in front of our apartment is covered in greenery and fountains, and paths line the entire area, which makes for a great environment to relax in, though it’s so cold now no one is venturing outside. I walk quickly down the street towards the clock tower that rests at the intersection of the four main roads in Haile. This is where I will meet Leo at night. If Michael or my mother found out I was secretly seeing him, they would probably kill me, but not literally.

Leo Coulson is the son of Grey Coulson, a former suitor of our mother’s and the one mainly responsible for all the rumors being spread about Michael and me. Grey is a hateful man who will do and say anything to get people to think the way he does. His son Leo is nothing like his father. He despises the man and everything he represents. The two of us have joked about leaving Haile and venturing out into the rest of Comoros, the region we live in. Now that my father is gone, I wish more than anything to make that a reality.

The back door of the tower is usually left unlocked, so I try the handle and venture inside. The only light is from the face of the large clock, but it’s enough to light my way up the wooden stairs. Leo is waiting for me at the top, a blanket in hand. He kisses me passionately, then we curl up together on the floor and watch the City of Delphi dance in the night. I lean into Leo, trying to bury myself as deeply as possible. He holds me tight.

“How are you holding up?” he asks a few minutes later.

“I don’t want to go through anything like that again.”

“I know how you feel.”

Leo’s mother was killed in a fire when he was nine. I can’t imagine being that young and losing a parent. Leo is a lot like his mother, which is probably why he and Grey don’t get along so well.

I fall backwards as Leo moves, changing his position so he’s now on top of me. He kisses me deeply as his hands search for his favorite spots on my body. I moan in delight, thankful for the distraction.

“You know, I found out something very interesting the other day,” Leo says as the heat between our almost-naked bodies builds.

“And what’s that?”

“The Order of Terac is recruiting beginning next week. If I can get in, then we can finally leave this place.”

The Order of Terac is the disciplinary force in Comoros. They have a special installation in the City of Terac where everyone who wants to be a member is trained. The Order has residences in all cities and provides us with peace and safety. They’re not permitted to interfere with any religious practices or ceremonies, as is the law. I’m not overly thrilled with the idea of Leo joining the Order, as it’s a dangerous job, but it will allow us the freedom we’ve so longed for.

I smile at the idea, as well as the pleasure he’s giving me.

We venture our separate ways a little over an hour later. Michael is sitting on the couch when I enter the apartment. I can tell from the look on his face that he’s been waiting for me for a while.

“Where the hell have you been?” he almost shouts, but then remembers our mother is sleeping.

“Out,” is all I respond as I toss off my coat.

“You were with Leo, weren’t you?”

“Why would you say that?” I ask, trying to hide my surprise.

“I’m not stupid, Aven. I’ve seen how he looks at you. He’s not good enough for you. His father is a worthless piece of trash. How can you align yourself with that family? You’ll break Mother’s heart if she ever finds out.”

I fly over to him and jam my finger in his face. “If you tell her, so help me it won’t be just Father who’s dead. I’ll burn you on the pyre alive if I have to.”

“He’s just like Grey, you wait and see. He’ll turn on you just like Grey turned on Mother.”

Michael slams his bedroom door, which wakes Mother. She pokes her head into the hallway, then frowns when she sees my face.

“Are you two fighting again?” she asks as she exits her room.

“When aren’t we fighting?” I respond a little too flippantly.

She takes my arms in her hands, rubbing them gently. “Now is not the time for you two to be at each other’s throats. With your father gone, you know things will start to worsen until the dean can settle everyone down.”

“I know, but I’m just sick of living like this. Having to walk on eggshells because of some stupid ignorance. When will everyone learn that Michael and I are just like everyone else? Why do they make it so personal? What did we ever do to them?”

My mother guides me over to the couch in the living room and gestures for me to sit. “You and Michael are so important to our society. Your father and I have been doing our best to make sure your lives were enriched enough for you to make the right choices. Starting tomorrow, you and Michael will need to spend at least an hour a day with the dean to find your spiritual balance.”

I try not to roll my eyes.

“Aven, these people owe you their lives and their futures. They just don’t remember.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Dean Chares will explain in his teachings. As for now, it’s late, so let’s go to bed.”

She kisses me on the forehead and retreats to her room. I linger for a few minutes before turning in. My mother’s words puzzle me, but it could just be that our father’s death has finally gotten to her.

TWO

Michael still wants to fight with me even as we make our way to the kerk per our mother’s instructions. We’re walking today; we’re not taking a carriage because we can’t really afford one, and it’s not for a somber or celebratory occasion. I can’t figure out this sudden interest of our mother’s in sending us to the kerk. It’s not a regular place we visit, even though we know the dean quite well. He usually comes to our home when my parents need him, so going to his quarters is out of the ordinary.

There isn’t anyone to meet us in the vestibule, so we take the stairs down into the sanctuary. The stairwell is lined with warm, burning candles that seem to never go out. An orange glow fills the chamber as we reach the bottom of the stairs. The room is just as I remember from back when we had our blessing: filled with wooden pews, an abundance of light coming from torches that line the walls, and in the center of the room is a fountain that contains the ethereal water. I wander the sanctuary, examining the many paintings that line the walls. The last time I was here there were only eight paintings, but now there are twelve. None of them makes any sense to me, but I’ve not been taught in the ways of the seminary. All I see are blurry splotches of paint smeared on a canvas, so I guess only those from Otrar will understand them. Michael stares at the fountain, mesmerized by the bubbling water as it rises a few feet above the bowl.

“I notice some paintings have been added since I was down here last. Has anything else changed?” I ask Michael, making my way back to him.

“That’s a weird question. Just those paintings have been added. However, that one over there was still blank as of yesterday.”

He points to the painting on the wall behind me. It depicts a dark and light side intertwining with deep crimson at the base. I sense Michael next to me, examining the painting as well.

“What do you think it means?” I ask him.

“It’s the telling of times to come,” Dean Chares says behind us.

We turn around as the dean moves deeper into the sanctuary. His red robes hang off his aging bones and his face and head are covered in white stubble. He has a solemn look on his face as he steps beside us, his hands behind his back.

“It looks like there’s a war coming,” Michael says.

“Not in our present future, Michael, but eventually. The world is always fighting demons and the like for the hearts of the pure. This is just one potential outcome of the prophecy told to us.”

“Why aren’t any of the paintings clear?” I ask.

“Views can be distorted if looked at incorrectly. It’s mainly to demonstrate that no one view is correct, and that images aren’t always what they seem.”

The dean signals for us to follow him below the sanctuary. We take the lone staircase down, turn right, and enter a musty room filled with cobwebs, journals, and odd trinkets made of stone and metal. The archive isn’t what I pictured it would be, but then again nothing ever is. We take a seat at the lone table against the back wall, plunging us deeper into the dirt and grime. Dean Chares reaches to a shelf beside his chair and removes a dust-covered book. It’s small, thin, and looks archaic.

“This is the Sacrer Tome. It contains the Ancient language of our ancestors and gives us power to move into the future,” the dean says, placing the book before us. “Unfortunately, there is only one copy of the tome left, as its twin was stolen well over a century ago.”

“How old is this?” Michael asks, picking up the book and carefully flipping through it.

“Thousands of years old. It was written when civilization in Comoros began,” the dean says with enthusiasm.

Michael gestures to pass it along to me, but I wave him off. “Why are you showing this to us? Why are we even being allowed in the archive? Only the priests can be in here,” I say.

“With the passing of your father, your futures have begun. All of Comoros will be at the mercy of others if you don’t learn about your origin,” the dean says, leaning back in his chair. “In a way, the rumors you’ve heard your whole life are true. The two of you will bring a change to Comoros, but not all favor it and some will do anything to stop it. This has all happened before, but if we, as a society, don’t evolve this time… we will cease to exist.”

“Dean, you’re not making any sense,” Michael says.

“The information you need to understand will come in time. Today is just the beginning of your new lives, so we have to tread slowly.” Dean Chares reaches for another book, this one a lot thicker and illustrated. “This is called the Finity Book. These pictures,” he begins, slowly flipping from one page to another, “detail the change man must go through in order to survive. It’s what the Ancients call a prophecy. Some parts of this prophecy have already come true, others have not. It is the two of you who determine how the rest of this prophecy will play out.”

The book falls open to the middle, displaying a young man and woman battling demons in a cathedral that resembles the kerk. The design on the marble floor in the vestibule is the same one, which shows as being cracked and burning in the sky in the image.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the design.

“That’s a triple spiral – the symbol of the Sacrer religion. You will find this marking at all the holy buildings, as well as other areas. It’s a way to link our faith across the region. Followers know a place is safe if they find the mark there,” the dean responds.

“Wait a second,” Michael says, jutting his hands out in front of himself. “Are you saying that Aven and I will be fighting in a war? You just told us upstairs that a war isn’t due in our lifetime.”

“There are many wars, Michael, and not all will be fought at the same time. Since I don’t know what the painting upstairs will change into, I cannot state that these two pictures are related or even the same. I can only attest to what’s in this book.”

“The paintings change?” I ask. “How? Why?”

“They can, but it’s rare. Those paintings have charted both of your lives for the past several thousand years. When certain milestones are met, the paint appears on the canvas. It won’t be until your true journey begins that the paintings will come into focus.”

“Our past lives?” Michael practically screams.

“Yes. You have both been here before, many times. This is the last of your journey, so if we don’t evolve now we will all perish upon your deaths.”

I get up from my seat so abruptly that the chair falls over. “This is nonsense. The Sacrer don’t believe in reincarnation, yet you’re telling us we’ve been here before. How is that possible? There is no way our parents believe any of this.”

Dean Chares stands, folds his arms at his waist, and stares at me with such intent that I almost tremble. “I never said anything about reincarnation. There are many ways to relive a life. You just need to have an open mind about it.”

“What do we need to do?” Michael asks.

I glare at him. “You can’t be serious! You actually believe this shit?”

“Our mother believes it, otherwise she wouldn’t have sent us here. If we have a destiny that needs to be fulfilled then I want to learn everything I can about it. Don’t you?” Michael’s voice cracks, which only happens when he’s extremely angry. He has a short temper, and normally I’m the only one able to get him to calm down, but I don’t think I can do that this time since his rage is aimed at me.

“Aven,” Dean Chares says, stepping between Michael and me. “If you feel you’re not ready you’re free to return home. However, always remember I will be here for you when you change your mind. The kerk and its archive are open to you whenever you may need them.”

Dean Chares retakes his chair and he and Michael begin going over the first page in the tome. I hesitate, trying to determine what I should do, then my feet find the stairs and I’m in the vestibule in moments. I walk home alone. The noises in my head are loud as they try and sort out what just transpired. I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t see the young man in a black coat until I walk into him. I fall to the ground hard, and a sharp pain rising in my hip.

“I’m so sorry,” the young man says as he helps me to my feet.

“It’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

I excuse myself once I’m back on my feet and continue the journey home. My mother doesn’t seem surprised when I enter the apartment. She has lunch ready for me, almost like she knew I wasn’t going to stay.

Have we really lived this before? How did my mother know exactly when I would be walking through the door?

“So, not a believer?” my mother asks as we eat the chicken soup she’s prepared.

“No. I don’t think any of what the dean says is true. We make our choices on a daily basis. There’s no way for anything to happen the same way over and over again. It’s just not possible.”

“You definitely are your father’s daughter,” she says, chuckling. “He wasn’t one to follow doctrine or believe in fate. He felt everything happens differently, no matter how often we change from one life to another.”

“He believed in reincarnation?”

“That’s not what I said.”

I drop the subject and we finish our food quietly. I help her clean up, but find myself suddenly very tired. I tell her I need to lie down, then go to my room and get under the covers. My head begins to hurt and chills take over my body. I add two more blankets to my bed, but I can’t generate enough body heat to warm up. Within the hour, I can no longer move or speak, so I can’t call out to my mother for help.

My muscles spasm as they slowly come back to life after some time. I’m finally able to cry out, which brings my mother quickly into the room. She takes one look at me and goes to phone for a doctor. An emergency vehicle is sent. Thankfully, Tanis sits along the southern edge of the city, thus sharing a border with Haile and its medical resources.

My mother sends word to Dean Chares and Michael as a small medical team places me in a capsule. A clear cover on top of the container shuts, locking me in and keeping whatever I may have from others, then they carry me down the stairs. Along the side panel inside the capsule are small monitors recording my vital signs. The emergency vehicle sits along the curb and is drawing quite the crowd. The transport is a motorized carriage, but travels at an extremely high rate of speed in the air. It currently hovers over the stones of the roadway, waiting for me to be secured inside. My mother climbs into the front by the driver, while the rest of the medical team crowds around me in the back.

Once the doors are closed, we shoot skyward then rocket south towards the border. The hospital has a landing pad along the back of the complex, which has other transports waiting to be used. The capsule glides over an invisible rail out from the vehicle and into the emergency room. This is the second time I’ve been in Tanis in the past week, and even in my weakened state I still can’t get over how different it is here compared to Haile and the City of Delphi. All the buildings are steel and glass structures, molded into fluid forms that reach high into the sky. All technology and discoveries are relegated to Tanis, leaving the other villages and the city in a type of Dark Ages. Just like the Order of Terac can’t interfere with religious practices, the Sacrer are forbidden to meddle in Tanis. It’s a way to keep the two separate and ensure that everyone is receiving the proper care and instruction.

We pass inside the medical facility, but my mother is kept out of the examination room for fear of contamination. The workers in Tanis take their guidelines very seriously and it has paid off in that no one has died from an illness in decades.

Until my father, that is.

I’m removed from the capsule, placed onto a thin cot, and made to change into a medical gown. The nurses assist me since I’m too sore and tired to do it myself. Blood is drawn from my arm and sent to the research floor. I’m given an injection of pain medicine, which only helps a little. I’m pumped full of fluids and drugs, causing me to have to pee every five minutes or fall asleep. I don’t begin to feel better until I’ve been at the hospital for several hours. I can hear Michael arguing with someone in the hall outside my room. He wants to see me, but they’re refusing to let anyone in who isn’t a staff member or researcher.

It’s almost midnight when I’m finally released. Whatever made me ill has run its course, and rather quickly. The head physician would like to keep me overnight, but I decline the offer since I’m no longer a danger to anyone. A carriage is ordered, and the three of us are sent back to Haile without any answers as to what just occurred. Michael and my mother put a quick meal together but I’m more tired than hungry, so I decline the food and head straight to bed. As I’m changing into my night clothes, I notice a tiny bruise along my hip in the reflection in the mirror that sits atop my dresser. I get closer to the mirror and adjust my small table lamp so it’s focused on the area. A tiny red dot sits amongst the black and blue of the bruise. The place is where I felt the pain when I fell earlier today.

It looks like a needle mark, but those haven’t been used in decades since the researchers came out with the injectors. I don’t remember anyone sticking me with anything. So, where did this come from?

There’s a knock on my door, I tell the person to come in, and my mother enters. As I get into bed, she pulls the covers up and tucks them under my chin like she did when I was little. The concerned look on her face is one I’ve never seen before, not even when my father lay dying.

“How do you feel?” she asks, stroking loose strands of my black hair off my face.

“Tired. I’ve never felt like that before.”

She continues to stroke my hair, which is what I do to Michael to get him to calm down when he’s tense. He won’t let anyone else do that to him, just me. I can’t help but notice the fear behind her blue irises.

“What’s wrong?” I finally ask.

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re all right. That was quite a scare. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you.”

She leans down, kisses me on the forehead, and begins to sing her song to me. She doesn’t even get to the second line before I fall asleep.

THREE

Michael has spent nearly every day at the kerk with Dean Chares. I still have no interest in learning whatever nonsense he wants to drill into our heads. My mother has been on edge since the day I took ill, which was a little over a month ago. No one in Tanis has communicated to her regarding what might have made me sick, so this weighs heavily on her daily. I see Leo very little now. He was accepted into the Order and has been training in Otrar for the last two weeks. Normally the Order would go back to the City of Terac with their new recruits, but the newly-appointed leader of the Mitris, a man called Gaden Lamen, has opened up several of the empty seminaries to the soldiers. Dean Chares wasn’t happy with this decision since the soldiers are to be kept away from any religious influence, which is why they have specialized quarters in Otrar away from the seminaries. The elders who govern our area felt it would be beneficial for the city and its villages if the Order trained locally. They feel it’ll be a good influence on the community.

I stay in the apartment most of the time now, venturing out only when my mother wants company during her shopping trips. Thankfully, food doesn’t cost anything and the apartment with its furnishings and utilities are provided as a basic form of living in the villages. The only time anyone needs to pay for anything is if it’s a carriage ride that isn’t designated for a special purpose, alcohol, or anything frivolous. The dean gives us money that has been donated to the church from time to time, but it’s very little. My parents are not permitted to work because of Michael and me, and of course we’re not allowed to work either. It was an arrangement our parents made with the elders to ensure our safety and theirs. I’m not sure why such a compromise was needed, but it’s what we’ve been living by since Michael and I were born. We can visit the shops to make purchases and we’ve even attended school, but when the rumors began to spread again we were expelled from all educational institutions. The rumors never bothered me as much as they did Michael, and they still don’t.

“Aven, I need your help,” my mother calls to me from the door.

She only has a couple of bags in hand, but it’s the blood seeping through her pants that has my attention.

“What happened?” I ask as I help her to the couch.

“I tripped. Can you get me a washcloth from the bathroom?”

I do as she requests so she can clean the wound, which is visible through the fresh tear in her pant-leg. I take the groceries to the kitchen, sort them, and put them away. When I return to the living room, my mother is unconscious on the floor. I run over to her, check to make sure she’s still breathing, and call the hospital. I then get a hold of Dean Chares and tell him what’s happened. He tells me to breathe as I’m tripping over my words. He says he’ll bring Michael to the hospital. I hang up just as the medical team arrives. They place her in the capsule as they did me, and close the top. I climb into the front with the driver and we take off instantly. I’m not allowed to enter the emergency room, so I pace nervously outside in the waiting room. Michael and Dean Chares arrive a few minutes later.

“You have to find out what’s happening,” I say through tears, knowing they’ll probably give him more information than they did me. “They won’t tell me anything.”

Dean Chares goes to the receptionist and has a brief conversation with her. He returns a few moments later, but not with good news.

“They’re examining her. Once they’ve moved her up into her room, the two of you can go see her,” he says.

“Do they know what happened?” Michael asks.

“No. They wouldn’t give that information to me. You’ll have to wait until she’s settled into her room.”

It feels like hours pass, but it’s only minutes. Dean Chares sits in the seat across from mine, takes my hand, and squeezes it. I know he’s there, but I just can’t comprehend anything at the moment. I feel like I’m relieving last month all over again. This is exactly how our father was admitted to the hospital, only he had passed out from pain in his stomach. I try not to think of the possibilities of what could be happening, or what might happen.

“Aven.” My name echoes in the distance.

I look up, finally noticing that the dean has been trying to get my attention.

“Did your mother say anything to you before she collapsed? Was she feeling ill?” he asks, squeezing my hand again.

“She had just returned from shopping. Her knee was bleeding because she tripped, so I got her something to clean the wound. When I came back from putting the groceries away, I found her collapsed on the floor.”

The dean pats my hand, lets it go, and leans back in his chair. His expression is one of concern. “Did she say how she originally fell?”

“No, only that she tripped.”

One of the nurses tells us our mother has been moved and we can now go see her. Dean Chares excuses himself and says he’ll be back later to visit and pray over our mother. I’m a little taken aback by his abrupt departure, as is Michael. This is out of character for the dean, as he would normally stay until he had answers from the medical staff, like he did with our father. We take the elevator up to the critical care ward. She’s the only patient currently on this floor, so she has the attention of the whole staff. Our mother is awake, but only barely. The nurses fuss to make her comfortable.

“How are you feeling?” Michael asks, pulling a chair over so he can sit next to her.

“Tired, but all right,” she responds.

“What happened?” I ask as I find my own chair and pull it over.

“I was bending down to clean the wound on my knee, when everything began to spin and I passed out.” She takes several deep breaths as if her lungs won’t fill up. “Where’s Dean Chares?”

“He had to get back to the kerk,” Michael answers before I can. “He’ll be back shortly to check on you.”

She smiles and closes her eyes, but only for a few minutes. Then they spring open and she frantically searches the room, finally stopping when she sees Michael. “Would you mind leaving Aven and me for a few minutes? I have some things I need to talk over with her.”

Michael looks puzzled by the request, but does as she asks. Once the room is empty of people, my mother takes my hand and tries to pull me closer.

“Sing it to me,” she whispers.

“I can’t sing, you know that.”

“Then say it. I need to know that you’ll always remember the song no matter what happens.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Aven, please, I need to hear it,” she pleads.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and try to locate the words in my memory.

Come find me in the valley where the ethereal waters flow

and blessings will be given in time as you grow

Sadness must come as your journey awaits

Your destiny chosen as the prophecy dictates

The past is a memory of which not to forget

For soon there could be a great deal of regret

Temptation abounds and falter you may

But peace will come on the thirteenth of days

Zerah, my love, your life will divide

As evil does its best to trick your mind

Changes to body and soul are assured

But even these tasks will need to be endured

Give in to your fate even as darkness shines

For you are the benevolent, the pure, and the divine

She smiles and asks me to repeat it. I don’t see the point, but I do what she asks. Then she tells me to go and fetch Michael, who I find standing on the other side of the door. We keep our mother company throughout the remainder of the day. The staff brings us dinner, but neither Michael nor I have an appetite. Dean Chares finally returns in the wee hours of the morning. I must have fallen asleep in my chair, as Michael rouses me awake. We step to the other end of the room so our mother can’t hear us, even though she’s sound asleep.

“I had some suspicions about what happened to you last month, Aven, and going through the archives along with what’s occurred to your mother confirms it. A deviation in the prophecy has transpired.”

“What?” I ask, not really understanding what the dean is talking about.

“Your illness, Aven – it has never happened before. It’s not listed in any of the records. And your mother isn’t supposed to be admitted to the hospital for another three months.”

“Wait,” Michael says, holding out his hand to keep the dean from continuing. “You knew our mother was going to take a turn for the worse? Did you know our father was going to die as well before it happened?”

“Yes, Michael, I did. It’s what you’ve been learning for the past month, only now it seems someone is trying to alter what has already been laid out. I didn’t think it was possible to change what has already taken place, but I guess I was wrong.”

“How does our mother get sick?” I ask.

“That part has been omitted from the archive by choice of the original record keeper. It has never been recorded after any of the instances.”

“This has all happened before?” I ask, almost shouting.

“If you had been to the lessons you’d know that,” Michael says, chastising me. “But then, of course, you never did show for any of them, not even in the past.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m still not buying any of this. There’s no way this has all transpired before. We live, we die, we move on. We don’t get sucked into time where we have to relive every horror again and again.”

“As I said on the day after your father passed,” Dean Chares begins, clearly becoming annoyed with me, “this will be the thirteenth time we’ve all been through this. According to the prophecy, this is also the last time. If the two of you can’t find your correct place in society, everyone will be lost.”

“Is she going to die?” Michael asks after a long moment of silence.

“Yes,” the dean answers. “That’s her destiny in the prophecy. However, with her passing now accelerated it’s hard to say how much of the documented timeline will stay true.”

“I’m still not buying this,” I say. “If this has all happened before, why don’t Michael and I remember any of it? Why doesn’t anyone else? Do you, Dean, actually have any recollection of these events, or are you only going off the stories you had in that picture book?”

The dean looks contemplative, as if trying to determine what information to tell me and what to keep. “My memories are fully intact as to everything that’s transpired. Your parents remember as well, but no one else does. It was designed this way.”

“Then why can’t you just tell us everything that’s going to happen, so we don’t have to go through this nonsense?” I ask.

“How will you learn anything if you don’t do it yourself? If I tell you anything about what’s supposed to happen, then the prophecy won’t come true. And it needs to.”

“Aven,” my mother calls in a weak voice.

I go over to her, take her hand, and sit on the edge of the bed.

“You’ve always questioned everything, and that’s good,” she says as if she’s heard our whole conversation. “The way you challenge the doctrine is what will get you and Michael through to the final phase. You can’t let anything distract you.”

“But if we already know ahead of time, then we won’t make any mistakes,” I respond.

“If you don’t make mistakes, then you won’t evolve. You and Michael will know what the correct path to follow is without being told. Listen to your heart… it already has all the answers for you.”

A tear runs down her cheek as she takes a deep breath. Her body shudders and goes rigid. Alarms sound throughout the floor. We’re told to leave as the medical team rushes in to help her. After ten minutes she’s stabilized, but has lapsed into a coma. Michael and I are permitted back in, but the dean stays in the hallway. I sit on my chair, take her hand, and quietly sing her song in my head.

Michael leaves an hour later with the dean, but I stay. I feel that my place is at her side. I’ve decided to entertain the possibility that the ideas that Dean Chares and my mother have provided to me may be true, but I refuse to fully accept it. I’m stubborn, always have been, always will be. My father used to tell me it was one of my better attributes. If I’ve done all this before, like they believe, perhaps I’ve grown even more obstinate with each turn. Maybe this is my way of remembering.

Over the next several days, Michael brings me changes of clothing before he goes to the kerk to study. The nurses let me shower in their locker room, and have even moved a bed into my mother’s room for me to sleep on. I eat the food they bring me, even if it’s something I’m not fond of.

On one particular morning when I enter my mother’s room Leo is there standing next to her. I hesitate in approaching him since his father’s words ring in my head. Will he now believe the lies Grey has been spreading all these years? Will he fear me, view me as a threat instead of as a lover?

“Hi,” he says when he notices me lingering in the doorway. “I wanted to see how she was doing.”

“She’s staying strong,” I reply, stepping around to the other side of the bed to place some distance between him and me.

“Do the doctors know what caused this?”

“No, but they’re working on it.” I’m not sure if that last part is true, but it sounds like the appropriate thing to say.

Leo continues to stare at my mother. He won’t look at me, which makes me nervous.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this,” he finally says after several minutes of silence.

“Thank you.”

“I leave for the City of Terac the day after tomorrow, and I’m not sure if or when I’ll be back.”

“Why?” I ask, staring hard at him, hoping he’ll look up at me.

“Our final month of training will be there. It’s also where we’ll learn where we’re going to be stationed. I’m hoping I’m not stuck here.”

His last comment sounded like it was aimed more towards me than his father, like it has been. I begin to move around to his side of the bed, but he backs away and leaves without saying another word. My mouth is still hanging open when the nurse walks in to give my mother a bath. I decide to stay and assist, as it will be a good distraction for me. The nurse does all the washing, while I simply help roll my mother over from one side to the other. As we’re working on getting her to lie on her left side, her gown slips slightly and I catch a glimpse of a bruise on her hip that looks to be almost healed. I lean in closer, but there isn’t a dot in the middle like mine had.

Was she injected also? With what?

“Do the doctors know the cause yet for my mother’s illness?” I ask the nurse as she cleans up.

She looks at me with an awkward stare. “The researchers are still trying to break down the cells to determine what exactly it is. They’ve been able to match it with what you had last month, but they’re not sure why you healed and she hasn’t.”

I thank her for the information and she leaves. I take a seat at the foot of the bed, not sure of what to do next.

I still don’t understand why I can’t be told what’s coming. It could help if I knew what we’re going up against, especially if there’s a war coming. And what has Michael learned that I’ll never know?

I kick myself incessantly for not having stayed that day at the kerk. Being blind to everything is my own doing. I think back to what Dean Chares said about someone trying to alter the timeline. I wonder if my father died earlier than he was supposed to, but I have no way of knowing that since Michael was the one with him when he collapsed. The dean never mentioned that his part in the prophecy had been changed, so maybe he died when he was supposed to. But why change things now? Why not do it the moment Michael and I were born? The dean said only he and my parents had retained their memories, so how would someone else know what to sabotage and when? What are we missing? I close my eyes and think back to the day I became ill. I try to picture what the man in the black coat looked like, but I only really remember seeing the ground.

Could he have been the same one who injected my mother? Who is he?

Alarms ring out around me, bringing me out of my trance. Nurses flood into the room as I step away from the bed. I know they won’t save her this time, I can feel it. Tears are slow to come when they finally call her time of death. The nurse who bathed her earlier tells me she will contact the dean and Michael. I’m asked by various staff if I need anything, but what I want they can’t give me, so they leave me to grieve in silence. I retake my seat at the foot of the bed and just stare at her resting body. She knew this day was coming and never once did she fear it, although per the dean this wasn’t to take place for several more months. I wonder what she would’ve taught me in that time. What knowledge am I losing because of her early departure?

I feel like I’m in a trance when Michael and Dean Chares finally arrive. Michael is too devastated to console. The dean stands next to me with his hand on my shoulder. I wonder if Michael was secretly hoping the dean and the prophecy were wrong. We say our final goodbyes as one of the nurses informs Dean Chares that the body will be sent over to the kerk in an hour. Michael and I will have to go back to the apartment and pick out her outfit. I lean on Michael in the carriage as we head home. He only stares out the window.

FOUR

Michael sits on the edge of our mother’s bed while I rummage through the closet, looking for something decent to cremate her in.

“What about this?” I say, stepping into the room holding up a powder blue dress with short sleeves.

“That was her favorite,” Michael responds with a small crack in his voice.

I find matching shoes and we leave. The day is now overcast, and colder than it was earlier. I bury my face in the fur lining of my coat while we wait for a carriage to pick us up. It finally arrives after ten minutes and we climb into the back. Neither of us speaks during the trip. We stare out the windows as the citizens of Haile hustle past, oblivious as to what has transpired.

Or what will be transpiring.

The dean is waiting for us in the sanctuary when we arrive. We hand him our mother’s clothing and he retreats to the level below. I take a seat on one of the pews as Michael roams the sanctuary. I’m sure he feels as lost as I do, but he seems more prepared than I am with everything he’s learned.

“What do we do now?” I ask as Michael finally sits next to me.

“I’ll keep up my studies, while you do nothing,” he responds sharply.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap back.

“Aven, you’re so selfish; you think only of yourself. You always have, even in the past.”

“How would you know that? We don’t have our memories.”

“I put it together through the history I’ve been learning. The previous twelve occurrences are well documented, at least from the dean’s point of view. All show that you don’t take any of this seriously, which eventually gets us killed. We’re all just hoping that this time you get it right.”

My mouth hangs open.

This doesn’t sound like my brother. What has the dean been teaching him to make him turn on me in such a way?

Dean Chares enters the sanctuary and gestures for us to go up the stairs. Our mother is ready. A carriage with her bandaged body lies before us. Michael and I climb into the front seat of the carriage while the dean stands with the body, saying prayers over it.

I want to lean against Michael since I feel numb, but considering his present attitude, I avoid him.

“Why?” I ask Michael after a long silence.

“Why what?”

“Why would you say such things to me? You know I’m not selfish. That I would do anything for anyone. What crap are you learning that it’s turning you against me?”

“It’s not crap and I’m not against you. I’m just frustrated with everything that’s happened and is going to happen. You have no idea the burden that sits on our shoulders. The lives that are counting on our success. If we don’t get it right this time, there is no redo. Our world will end.”

I still think everything is being blown out of proportion, but I can’t tell Michael that. I’ll need to act as if I believe what he’s saying to calm him down, even though I don’t. I just don’t believe a society or a world’s existence depends upon two people. All of society is responsible for how the world ends up, not us.

“Do you think I have enough time to start learning our history?” I ask, looking at him instead of out the window.

He pulls me over so I’m leaning against him, and rubs my arm as if I’m chilled. “I don’t know, Aven. That’s a question for the dean. I do know we’re going to need to be careful that rumors about our parents’ deaths don’t start among those who fear us. They’ll say we killed them, like they did before.”

“But we didn’t,” I say, wiping away a tear.

“Dean Chares is going to try to keep their deaths as quiet as possible, and will guide us on what to do. He’s always been there for us.”

I close my eyes and try not to think of what may lie ahead. I know the dean will quell fears if they get out of control, but it’s still unnerving. I just want this day to be over with.

It seems I drift off on our journey, because Michael shakes me awake when the carriage stops. The driver assists the dean in placing our mother in repose across the ceremonial pyre and then lights torches that stick out from each pillar. Michael and I each take one as the dean blesses our mother into the afterlife. We’re instructed to set her body ablaze, just like we did with our father. The driver waits patiently until we’re ready to leave, which isn’t until sunset. Michael and I don’t talk for the entire ride back to the kerk and even into Haile. We’ve lived here our whole lives, but now that our parents are gone I’m not sure if the community will continue to let us stay.

Michael locks the door once we’re inside our apartment. I toss my coat onto a chair that sits between the family room and hallway leading to the bedrooms. We haven’t eaten all day, so as I change into something more comfortable, Michael warms up a large meal the dean gave to him yesterday. We quietly eat. Michael seems deep in thought, but I’m busy surveying the apartment as if seeing it for the last time.

The walls need a fresh coat of paint. The hardwood floors are badly worn and scuffed. Most of our furniture is in some state of disrepair, but has been tenderly mended over the years by our mother. I stare at the stitching along one of the cushions on the couch, smiling as I remember my mother singing as she repaired it.

“Come find me in the valley where the ethereal waters flow, and blessings will be given in time as you grow.”

A smile crosses my face and I try to stifle a laugh. However, a small giggle escapes, catching Michael’s attention.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, setting his fork down.

“Mother. She always knew what to say even when things were going wrong.”

Michael smiles, but it doesn’t last. “I miss her, and Dad.”

“Me, too.”

We put away the leftovers, clean the dishes, and head off to our rooms. I wait until Michael is done in the bathroom before I go in and brush my teeth. The reflection in the mirror above the sink reveals my pale, worn-out complexion. My short black hair looks to have been brushed by a whisk. I try to run a comb through it, but give up on the tangles and go back to my room. I flip the switch by the door, turning off the light. The only illumination now is from the gas streetlamps that line the cobblestone road outside. The City of Delphi shines in the distance, but with a haze around it. I pull my blanket up high, almost covering my face as I notice white flakes beginning to dance in the air outside. Winter is not due for another two months, but it’s been coming earlier and earlier over the past several years. No one is sure why, and the scientists in Tanis haven’t been able to find an explanation for it. Of course, Grey Coulson thinks Michael and I have something to do with it. This has been disproven so many times by the scientific community that I can no longer keep count. Still, they’re not able to explain the change. Dean Chares tells everyone it may be spiritual, as in a new era is coming. I’m betting it has something to do with the prophecy.

Michael isn’t in the apartment when I wake. I figure he’s probably already left for the kerk assuming I didn’t want to go with him. I shower, dress, and eat a cold breakfast. While I’m cleaning up the dishes, there’s a knock on the door. Leo stands behind it, his head hanging down. I take his arm and pull him into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. His heartbeat grows rapid as he begins to breathe heavier.

“What’s the matter?” I’m finally able to ask as I pull away.

“Where’s Michael?”

“I don’t know. He was gone when I got up this morning. Why?”

“We need to find him. It’s starting.”

“What is?”

Leo’s response is to charge down the hallway to my bedroom, grab a duffle from the floor of my closet, and begin shoving my clothes into it. “We have to leave.”

“Why? What’s happened?” I ask, trying to take hold of his arm, but he jerks it out of my reach.

“They know, Aven,” he says, running around my room picking up anything he sees and placing it in the bag. “The elders are calling a meeting as we speak to determine your and Michael’s fates.”

“They know what, Leo?”

“That you killed your parents,” he says, finally stopping, his face close to mine.

“Our parents were sick. Michael and I had nothing to do with it,” I practically shout back. I rip the bag from his hands and throw it onto my bed. “This is just more of your father’s efforts to smear my family.”

“No, Aven, it’s not.” Leo gestures for me to sit down on the bed, to which I comply. “You know who Gaden Lamen is, correct?”

“He’s the leader of the new religious order, isn’t he?”

“Yes, and he insisted on having your parents’ bodies analyzed by the medical team before they were sent to Dean Chares. They discovered that they died from the Mors Plague. The same one that was eliminated centuries ago.”

“This is ridiculous. As of yesterday the hospital still hadn’t determined what my mother had. There’s no way they could’ve suddenly discovered the cause when they had been working on it for less than a week. Besides, she would’ve been quarantined if she showed any signs of the plague. Those who die from the plague suffer for months as their bodies deteriorate. My parents were sick for not even a week.”

“Well, something killed them. Healthy people don’t just die suddenly.”

“So, your first thought was that Michael and I did this? You sound just like your father,” I say, tears running down my face as I stand. “Get the hell out of my home!” I shout, pointing to the door.

“Aven, be reasonable. If word gets out to the other citizens, your lives will be in danger. Come with me to Otrar, you’ll be safe there until we can leave for the City of Terac.”

“I’m safe here. Anyway, someone killed my mother like they tried to kill me.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

“You were sick?”

“Yes, but only for half a day. It wasn’t anything serious,” I lie.

“Not serious? You just said that someone tried to kill you. I would think that’s very serious.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Any of it.”

“Aven, please let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

He stands and places his hands on my arms. “Aven, take my offer seriously. The elders will have you and Michael banned from the city and its villages, but if I can hide you they won’t be able to touch you. Please, come with me.”

I shake myself free and turn my back on him without another word.

He brushes past me and slams the front door as he leaves. I drop back onto my bed, shoving the duffle onto the floor. My head is spinning with so much noise that I can’t hear my own thoughts. I try to push it out by applying pressure to my temples, but it doesn’t do any good. I slip my boots on, grab my winter coat, and leave the apartment.

A light dusting of snow covers the ground. I’m hoping a long walk to the kerk will clear my head. I keep my hood up, partially to keep out some of the cold, but also to hide my face.

If Leo thinks this way, how many more will do the same? Does he really think all that bullshit is true? Has his father finally gotten to him? If that were the case, he wouldn’t have come to warn me or help me escape.

The clock tower chimes as the hour hand makes contact with the ten and the minute hand the twelve. I quickly cross the street and over to the bridge, which is slippery. I keep my eyes focused on the stones covering the pavement as carriages hurry past. The snow starts up again when I reach the kerk. I take the stairs down into the sanctuary, but the dean isn’t there so I head to the level below and find him in his room, painting.

“Can I talk with you?” I ask, stepping across the threshold.

He sets the brush down and turns his attention to me.

“Leo Coulson came to see me a little bit ago. He says the elders are investigating our parents’ deaths and that they may ask Michael and me to leave. Apparently, a special session is being called as we speak.”

“I haven’t been advised of any such meeting, but let me make a call.” He leaves the room, only to return a few moments later in a hurried state. “So much for keeping the religious leader in the loop,” he mumbles. “Come with me, but keep your head down; when we get to the Agora I want you to stay in the back, amongst the shadows. Understand?”

I nod.

The dean moves fast for an old man and I almost have to double my steps to catch up to him. We head north across the plaza, down several streets, and across the main courtyard where all the governmental buildings are located. The Agora – meeting place for the elders – is the smallest building of the group, sitting like a punished child in the corner of a massive room. I've never been to the Agora. It’s open to the public from time to time, but that’s been rare lately. The dean flies through the entrance into a small vestibule before he reaches the main door for the meeting room.

Once inside I hug a pillar along the back wall making sure no one can see me. The room is of a substantial size, and extremely ornate. Cherry-wood paneling covers much of the walls, apart from the murals at the top and along the ceiling. Sculpted fixtures hang from the ceiling, providing light. Empty benches form imperfect boxes around the room, and in the center of it all are five massive desks labeled with the names of the villages and the city. Each is occupied by one man and one woman. The dean doesn’t have his own assigned seat, so he sits on one of the empty benches. That’s when I notice that someone else is sitting where the audience would be. I don’t recognize the man, and he’s wearing a uniform I haven’t seen before. His presence is felt throughout the whole room. I stare at the man, wondering who he is, but a little voice in the back of my head is telling me I already know.

“How nice of you to join us, Dean Chares,” the elder woman from Otrar says once he’s seated.

A couple of the elders look surprised to see the dean, but that’s probably because this was obviously a meeting in which his attendance wasn’t wanted. He smiles politely at the woman, but I can tell he’s not amused with her tone.

“I don’t see why this meeting is necessary,” the elder man from Haile says.

“Because of the deaths,” the elder woman from the village of Castellum replies. “We need to know how dire this situation is, especially for us in Castellum. We can’t have contaminated people working the farms, mills, or slaughter houses. It would spread the disease.”

“Aren’t we getting a bit ahead of ourselves?” the elder man from Tanis chimes in. “People get sick. It’s part of our nature. That’s why there’s medicine, so we can treat the ill and make sure the rest of the population is safe from harm.”

“Yes, but for Elena and James to be taken so suddenly,” the woman from Castellum says. “It was unnatural the way they died.”

Hearing my parents’ names spoken aloud brings tears to my eyes. If they were still here, none of this would be happening.

Where’s Michael when I need him?

Dean Chares holds up his hands as arguments start between the villages of Castellum and Tanis. “It was their time to go,” he says, once everyone has quieted down. “No one could have foreseen this. Don’t make this out to be more than it is.”

Dean Chares knew their deaths were coming, so why wouldn’t the others? Was the prophecy strictly kept to the dean and my parents? It appears Michael and I weren’t the only ones kept in the dark.

“I’ve asked Gaden Lamen to join us,” the woman from Otrar says, standing. “He had the medical staff at the hospital run tests on both Elena and James right after they died. He can tell us what the cause was, and if there should be any concerns.”

“Since when does a religious community oversee the medical establishment?” the dean says, sounding livid. “It has always been that the two are kept separate. This is so they can provide the proper guidance and care accordingly.”

“That, Dean Chares, is changing,” the woman from Otrar states.

She sits as Gaden stands. He moves to the center of the room, glancing at each person as if trying to assert authority over them. His uniform looks stiff and new, with dark-red dress pants under a long greatcoat of the same color. Both have gold piping along the seams. Covering his right shoulder is a patch with an odd design; a teardrop, elongated and encircled by four shields. I grow cold at the sight of it. The atmosphere in the room changes the longer he stays quiet. He leans over to the Otrar table, picks up a folder, studies its contents, and then closes it, but doesn’t set it down.

“Blood and tissue analysis from both of the deceased showed severe muscular deterioration,” he says, gesturing towards the elders as if they were his pupils. “I had my researchers look more closely and they found an anomaly at the cellular level. When compared to previous illnesses that have swept through our area, it matched the genetic profile of the plague we eradicated several generations ago.”

“Over three hundred years, to be exact,” the man from Castellum adds.

“What are you suggesting, Gaden?” Dean Chares asks, standing and folding his arms across his chest, puffing it out a bit.

“The last Mors Plague occurred when the last set of twins was born. Now, here we are again, only this time they killed their parents first,” Gaden Lamen spits out, anger heavy in his tone.

“That has never been scientifically established,” the woman from Tanis says.

“Or religiously,” Dean Chares adds.

“Then,” Gaden begins as he paces the floor, “how do you explain that when those twins were slaughtered the plague stopped?”

“Because we found a cure for it!” the woman from Tanis shouts, slamming her fists onto the desk as she stands. “You’re going off fears and rumors, not facts. If Elena and James died of the Mors Plague, then we should have everyone immunized to prevent it from spreading, but fear-mongering about children doesn’t help anyone.”

“I agree,” the woman from Otrar says. “I’d also like a death inquiry conducted by the scientists in Tanis on the exact cause. Gaden Lamen, you will have your medical staff hand over all vials, samples, and results to the head of the Tanis research team. We will meet again in two days’ time to discuss any further actions that may be needed.”

I slip out the door before anyone sees me and wait for the dean across the street, under the awning for the census office. My feet and hands begin to freeze as I wait. Now I wish I hadn’t left, in case something more was discussed after the meeting was adjourned.

Dean Chares emerges ten minutes later. I rush up next to him as he makes his way back to the kerk.

“We have to get Michael. Where is he?” the dean asks once I catch up.

“I thought he was in the archive.”

“No. He’s not at the apartment?”

“He was gone when I got up this morning.”

The dean shakes his head. “That brother of yours is going to get into more trouble now that he has no one to monitor him.”

My brother has never been in any trouble. What is the dean talking about? Are there things about Michael that I don’t know?

Dean Chares flags down a carriage and we hop inside, and head for the bridge into Haile. I want to ask him questions, but he shushes me. We pass the clock tower, turn north, and go down a small alley between several shops and a tavern. The dean tells me to wait in the carriage while he goes into the tavern. He doesn’t emerge for fifteen minutes, but when he does he’s dragging Michael with him. I can smell the ale before Michael is even in the carriage. It’s not even noon yet and he’s drunk. I help him sit down when he tries to climb onboard. The carriage turns around and we head back to our apartment. The dean speaks with the driver while I take Michael upstairs. I practically carry him up the steps, as he isn’t in control of his body.

“I was celebrating,” he says, slurring his words and almost drooling on my neck as we hit the third-floor landing.

“What, exactly, were you celebrating?” I ask, putting the key in the lock, then pushing the door open with my foot.

“Our freedom.”

“Freedom from what?”

“This ruddy existence. We’re ready to evolve, Aven, don’t you see that? We’ll be more powerful beings than anyone can imagine.”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

I let him fall onto the floor. His face hits the wood hard, but it doesn’t faze him – he simply rolls onto his back, a drunken grin plastered on his face. Dean Chares helps me drag Michael the rest of the way into the apartment and prop him up on the couch. I go into the kitchen to get some water, but instead of allowing Michael to drink it I throw it in his face. He jolts slightly from the cold, his eyes narrowing at me.

“You take the fun out of everything,” he says to me.

“Michael, you need to pay attention,” the dean says, sitting beside him. “I need you and Aven to come to the kerk tomorrow. You must pack a traveling bag and any other items you may need.”

“You think it’s not going to end in our favor,” I state more than ask.

The dean focuses his attention on me. “No, my child, I don’t.”

“Is this another deviation, or was this how it always happened?” I ask the dean.

“It’s a deviation. A severe one.”

“How did they learn about our parents? I thought you were going to try to keep it quiet,” I raise my voice though I don’t mean to.

“I was, but someone from Tanis must’ve leaked the information. No one in Tanis is permitted to divulge any medical information, including patient conditions, to someone who isn’t a researcher. This was one of the regulations put into place once the Mors Plague was defeated, but now it looks like the Mitris are being put in charge of the hospital.

“I was delayed in leaving the Agora because I spoke with the elder woman from Tanis. Apparently Gaden Lamen has his own medical team now. They’re the ones who conducted the extra procedures on your parents. I’m still not seeing how his team came to the conclusion that it’s the Mors Plague if the hospital research team couldn’t find the cause.”

“You think he’s making it up?”

“I hope so, but something tells me there’s more going on than just manipulating test results.”

Dean Chares leaves a few moments later; Michael has started snoring on the couch. I plop down in an armchair by the kitchen and stare at my brother. He would never act this way if our parents were alive. I’ll need to ask the dean how he knew where to find him. My stomach begins to rumble, so I go into the kitchen and heat up a small portion of the meal the dean provided us. When I’m finished, I go back to my room and dump out everything Leo had shoved into the duffle. I can only pack so much into the one bag, so I search in my closet for the rucksack my dad gave us a few years ago. I’ll have to dig for Michael’s in his room.

The only item I want to put in the rucksack is a photo of my parents. I don’t have a lot of personal items. Michael’s room is flowing with his memories but I’ve never felt the need to collect things over the years.

I remove the picture from its frame, open the rucksack, and am about to slide the picture into one of the interior pockets when something catches my eye. A worn, leather pouch leans against the inside of the bag. I pull it out, unwind the tie, and have to sit down when I see what’s hidden inside. I dump the contents onto my bed and count the money that’s packed inside. A little over two thousand marks, in banknotes and coins, sits in front of me. My parents never had this much money in their lives, ever. How did they stash this away? I put the money back in the pouch, shove it in the rucksack along with the picture, and start packing my clothes again.

I check on Michael before going into his room, but he’s still out cold on the couch. His room is immaculate, apart from his closet, which is filled with all sorts of junk. I throw everything out onto the floor just so I can access his duffle. It takes me about twenty minutes to locate his rucksack, and when I do I find the same treasure inside. I’m not sure what personal items he’ll want to take since he has too many, so I decide he can do that in the morning before we leave. I cram as much clothing into his bag as I can and leave it at the foot of his bed. I go back to my room, plop down on my bed, and try to figure out how our parents were able to secret away so much money for us.

FIVE

Michael staggers into my room a little after midnight. I haven’t been able to eat or sleep since I found the pouch so I’m still awake. He sits on the floor, leans his head back, and lets out a deep sigh.

“How long was I out?” he asks.

“At least twelve hours.”

“How did you find me?”

I let out a snort. “I didn’t, Dean Chares did.”

“Fuck.”

“You can say that again.”

To which he does.

“What’s going on with you? I’ve never seen you drink anything alcoholic in my life,” I say as I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

“Father was able to keep a lot of things from you and Mother. He always bailed me out. I hadn’t had a drink since the day before he died. I needed to unwind. Everyone kept buying me shots and I just couldn’t say no.”

“Have you done anything else that I don’t know about?”

“Just stupid, childish things. Nothing that includes breaking the law.” He smiles at me, but I’m not buying it.

“Go to bed,” I say, lying back down. “Dean Chares wants us at the kerk in the morning.”

“Huh. I thought I dreamt that.”

He gets up and leaves, but he doesn’t go to sleep right away. I can hear him pacing in his room, probably mumbling about the mess I made.

Michael has breakfast cooked when I finally get up. I know it’ll be the last meal we eat in the apartment, so I try to make it last. I tell Michael what happened at the Agora, and the money I found. He doesn’t seem too shocked about the money, which tells me he already knew it was in there the moment we got the rucksacks. I never opened mine. I just tossed it into the closet, thinking that I didn’t need another useless bag. Michael finishes packing while I clear the dishes. We put on our winter coats, take one last look around the apartment, and leave with our belongings.

My heart aches the farther we move away from our home. I feel like I’m abandoning my parents… my childhood… my identity. Michael takes my free hand as we pass the clock tower and head for the bridge. The snow on the ground is a lot thicker today. Not as many people are out, probably because of the worsening weather. Michael and I get stares from a few people when we enter the city, mainly because of the luggage we’re carrying. I have my hood up like before, but as I turn to look at Michael I see he doesn’t. He’s holding his head high, while I’m looking down at my feet. Even though we’re twins, we’re quite different.

Dean Chares is waiting for us in front of the kerk. We follow him down to his quarters. I notice three beds now occupy the small room, and gone are the easel and painting from yesterday. I take the bed toward the back of the room, which is now getting stuffy with so many bodies in it. I drop my bag and leave. I know there’s a kitchen down the hall, so I head toward it to get something to drink. Michael and the dean follow me.

“Why did you want us to stay here?” Michael asks, sitting at the kitchen table, which is off in a corner of the room. “From what Aven told me, the meeting isn’t until tomorrow.”

Dean Chares opens the fridge, pulls out a carafe of orange juice, and pours us each a glass. “I know how this thing will go, and I don’t want anyone to know where you are.”

“But people saw us coming here,” I say.

“Yes, maybe a few did, but the church is sacred ground. The only authority in this spot is me, and nothing will persuade me to give up my jurisdiction over the souls I take care of here. That includes the two of you. You’re safest here with me.”

“Would they actually slaughter us if they believe the Mors Plague is returning because of us?” Michael asks after finishing his juice.

“A couple of the elders would, but it’s Gaden Lamen I’m more concerned about. He had a look in his eye that darkened my soul for a moment. Ever since he was promoted to leading the Mitris, he’s been doing a lot of digging in the historical archive. I’ve sent him so many files over the last several weeks. Actually, ever since James became ill.”

“What kind of files?” I ask, leaning against the counter with my glass in hand.

“He wanted to know about birth rates, genealogy, and previous illnesses that we’ve eradicated. Most of it he could’ve gotten from the medical archive at the hospital, but he wanted the ones I keep.”

“Wouldn’t they be the same?” I ask.

“Yes and no. I know more history about our area than anyone alive. My records are more detailed, more in-depth. I track the littlest things that happen in a person’s life in case they need reminding of the good, and bad, that they’ve done to this world.”

Michael’s face pales a little, probably from the bad acts he didn’t tell me the details of, but which the dean knows all about. “Has he asked for our records?”

“No, not yet, but I’m sure the request is coming now that your parents are gone.”

“Why give them to him at all?” I ask as I set my empty glass in the sink.

“To gain trust. He’s not receiving everything. I’ve doctored many of the files in case someone else goes snooping. If Gaden Lamen thinks I’m being open and honest with him, maybe I can get him to open up a little. Once you have someone’s trust, it’s easier to confide your deepest, darkest secrets to them.” Dean Chares smiles after his last sentence.

He’s a cunning little devil. No wonder our parents trusted him.

“Oh,” he blurts out. “I have something for the two of you that I should give you now in case I forget.”

He gestures for us to follow him back to his quarters. He grabs a nail file from the top of his dresser, steps onto his bed, removes the painting above the headboard, and chisels away at some mortar around one of the bricks that make up the wall. Once the brick is loose enough, he wiggles it out of place and drops it onto his mattress. He reaches deep inside the hole he just created, and when his arm emerges he’s holding two sheathed knives, two leather-bound books, and a small canvas pouch. He hands us each a knife and book, and replaces the brick, but holds onto the pouch.

“Journals?” I ask, shaking the dust off mine.

“In a way,” the dean responds. “The knives are from your parents. There’s a secret compartment in the lining of each of your rucksacks for you to stash it in. They’ll be undetectable to the security forces.”

I set the knife on the bed and open the clasp that keeps the book sealed. The first page in the journal is blank except for an embellishment in the middle of the page consisting of a triple spiral.

It takes me a moment to recognize the Sacrer symbol. But why would it be in a book? I thought Dean Chares said these were only on sacred places, not items.

The next twelve pages depict the same nonsense from the paintings in the sanctuary. I flip through the pages again to make sure I’m seeing everything correctly. Michael speaks up before I can.

“These are the paintings in the sanctuary. Even including the new one.”

“Yes, Michael, they are.”

“Why? How?” I ask, holding the journal open. The pages fall against the cover and that’s when I notice the rest of the pages are blank. Only the first thirteen have something on them.

“It’s your journey. Part of your path has already been set for you. It’s what happens after the twelfth depiction that you determine what the next scenes will be.”

“I don’t understand. There are only twelve paintings in the sanctuary, but more than fifty pages in here. What happens after the twelfth event?” I ask, almost mumbling.

“It’s after the twelfth segment of the prophecy that our lives will alter. Our evolution will have begun, and since such an event has never occurred before there’s no record of it to display.”

“What if there are more deviations? What will happen?” I ask.

“That, I can’t answer.”

“So, all my studying could have been for nothing?” Michael complains.

“Let’s hope not,” the dean replies.

Dean Chares takes the journal from my hand and opens it to the first scene. The image begins to solidify, showing two people, one man and one woman, at the henge in the Valley of Dearmad. Snow covers the green hills as a body burns on a pyre. The two figures are parting ways, each going in a different direction. The man heads west, while the woman goes east. The more I stare at the picture, the clearer it becomes.

Is the painting in the sanctuary reacting the same way as in this book?

A sigh of relief escapes the dean’s lips.

“The pictures come into focus when they’re about to come true,” I state. “This is what will be happening to us tomorrow. So, the prophecy is going as planned, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Dean Chares responds, then smiles. “You’ll also be able to witness each other’s trials when the scenes become whole.”

“What’s in the pouch?” Michael asks as it swings between the dean’s fingers.

The dean reaches inside it and pulls out two thin, black discs. He instructs us to place them on the embellishment on the first page of the journal. We press the small button on top and a shimmering white map erupts, floating above the page. Cities, villages, and other places that are spread over the vast region shine brightly on the map. Red and blue dots appear on both our maps, bobbing slightly in place.

“That,” the dean begins, pointing to the red dot on Michael’s map, “is you, Aven. The blue dot is Michael. This is so no matter what happens, you can always find each other.”

I glance at mine and see the same thing. The dean explains that, on my map, I’m blue and Michael is red.

“What kind of technology is this?” Michael asks as he shuts off the device.

“It’s Ancient technology,” the dean answers. “It’s been kept locked away in the kerk for thousands of years, waiting for the thirteenth cycle. When you two were born this time, everything came alive in the sanctuary. Those paintings used to be blank canvases, and no matter what I did to them the paint wouldn’t stay. As the years passed, they slowly began to emerge from their darkness.” He points to the disc in Michael’s hand. “You’ll need to keep this in the same pocket as your knife. You don’t want anyone else finding it.”

As I turn off my disc, a thought occurs to me. “Dean Chares, when the first image appeared you acted as if it may not be there. Why?”

He pauses in the doorway as he begins to leave, but doesn’t turn around to face us. “The way you’re leaving Delphi this time isn’t how it happened in the past. I wasn’t sure if the prophecy would detect this deviation, but since the painting came to fruition this must not be a true deviation. You were always meant to leave in this manner.”

“How did we leave those other times?” Michael asks.

“You simply left through the gates on the east side of Haile, several days after your mother died,” he responds, then leaves.

I sit on my bed and look at the twelve scenes in my journal, wondering how many will come true. I set the book down and pick up the knife. The sheath is made of a soft brown leather, just like my fur-lined winter coat. I unstrap the knife, carefully removing it. The handle is short and made of pearl. The blade is steel, and shines as if the sun were in the room. I hold the weapon carefully in my hand since I’ve never held anything like this before. Only the Order of Terac are permitted to have any type of weapon. I locate the pocket in the rucksack for the knife, slipping it and the disc inside. I stash the journal as well and head into the kitchen to fix lunch, leaving Michael alone.

I eat, then go into the archive. I’ll need to stay up all night going through every book that Michael has been studying, so I can at least be close to understanding what’s going to happen, or is supposed to happen. I locate the Finity Book, carry it over to the table, and try to look through it. Each picture has an inscription in a language I don’t understand. There are columns of words on the other pages that lack an image. They’re also in that same language. I go back to the racks of books to find the Sacrer Tome, but it’s not anywhere.

“Looking for this?” Michael asks, entering the room while waving the book.

“Yes, actually. I need to study up on my history.”

He sits down across from me, but doesn’t release the book. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that? I mean, we’ll be leaving tomorrow. Who knows where we’ll end up?”

“You already know everything that’s supposed to transpire, when I don’t. I want to learn as much as I can before tomorrow.”

“Actually, the Finity Book tells me not to give the tome to you. I would be causing a deviation from the prophecy if I did.”

“Probably only a minor one. The vision for tomorrow is still coming true, so what’s the harm in letting me look it over?”

He fingers the pages in the tome, eyes never leaving my face. “No, I think I’ll honor what’s already happened,” he says, smiling.

“What if I need to know so I can evolve after the twelfth event has taken place? You’re going to rob me of that? Leave me behind?”

“The Finity Book doesn’t mention how things are going to evolve, so I don’t know if you’d be left behind or not. I think we should let things happen as they have in the past.” He laughs as he leaves.

My temper rises and I find myself heaving the table onto its side, spilling the book onto the floor. The spine snaps in several places, loosening the glue and allowing several pages to fall out.

“Great,” I mumble as I bend down to collect them.

I crawl on my stomach to reach a page that slid underneath a rack of books. My shirt gets covered with dust as I wiggle underneath the piece of furniture, but I stop when something blue and shiny catches my attention. I reach over toward the item, stretching my fingers as far as possible. I’m finally able to grab it after a few attempts, along with the page, and I drag myself out. I set the pages I retrieved on top of the book and examine the blue object.

It’s a disc, just like the black ones the dean gave to us. I turn it over; the underside is engraved so it’ll fit onto the embellishment on the first page of the journal. I cram the pages back into the book, not really knowing where they go, straighten out the table, and put the book back in its rightful place. I palm the disc as I exit the archive, in case Michael or the dean are in the hallway. I peer into the dean’s room, but it’s empty. I quickly go over to my bed, pick up the rucksack, and retrieve the journal. Once the disc is on the embellishment a map erupts, but much different than the one I saw earlier. This one is a translucent blue, but instead of dots it has the Sacrer symbol hovering above five cities and several smaller entities that don’t have names. The cities listed are Delphi; Lertis, which is in a mountain range to the west; Parime off to the east of a small camp called Castra; Myro, in the southeastern section of Comoros; and finally, Reinga in the southwest.

Could these be other Sacrer sites? The dean did mention that the triple spiral would appear on structures related to the religion.

I turn the disc off and tuck it in the same pocket as the other one. I go looking for the dean and find him preparing for evening mass, so I decide to assist him. I won’t be staying for the service: I don’t need everyone staring at me, trying to figure out if I killed my parents or not. Michael and I eat a quick dinner and then head to bed. I don’t mention finding the second disc to him. I figure he probably already knows where all the Sacrer places are, so he won’t need it.

I’m having a hard time falling asleep. I blame the lack of air circulation in the room and the snoring coming from both Michael and the dean. I cover my head with my pillow, trying to drown them out. It works after another hour of tossing and turning, but my sleep is restless and I wake every few hours. The dean has breakfast waiting for us when we wake. I clean the dishes and Michael puts away the leftovers while the dean goes to dress in his purple robes, which he only wears for a pyre ceremony. Normally he wears his red robe if he’s not conducting a religious ceremony. I wonder why he’s decided to dress this way this morning. The dean returns to the kitchen a short time later, carrying a small silver ball. He hands it to me, gripping my hand tightly.

“There’s a button on the bottom of the device. Go into my quarters, lock the door, and press the button. You’ll need to set it on the floor so the image has something to project onto.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“It’s a communication sphere. I have a transmitter with me, so you’ll be able to see and hear everything that’s happening in the meeting.” He signals for us to follow him out into the hall and towards the opposite end from his room. “If the elders rule like I think they will, the moment they hand down their decision I want the two of you to grab your bags and pull on the torch behind you.” The dean points to a lit torch a few inches above my head. “This wall opens into a tunnel that takes you directly to the livery stables. Wait for me there.”

He squeezes my hand again and leaves. We go into his quarters and Michael locks the door as I activate the sphere. A bright image shines on the bricks covering the wall. The snow is thicker than it was yesterday, but at least it’s stopped falling. We can hear Dean Chares grunt as he tries to walk quickly to the Agora. Every seat is taken. People line the back of the room, trying to get a good position so they can witness the decision.

“I didn’t know they were opening this to the public,” Michael says with a little fear in his voice.

“We already know that they’re going to make us leave. Why do you want to sit here and watch?” I ask.

“Because I want to know if they are truly the reason we’re leaving.”

I set my attention back onto the image and notice Gaden Lamen. He’s sitting in the same spot he was in the other day. He appears to be extremely sure of himself. A little too confident that things will go his way. People make way for the dean so he can be properly seated by the elders. The woman from Otrar calls the room to order and everyone falls silent.

“You all know why we’re here,” she begins, standing behind her desk with her knuckles resting on the top. “It has been brought to this community’s attention that the Mors Plague may be returning.”

Murmurs fill the room and are quickly quieted down.

“The researchers in Tanis have been working diligently for the last few days to come up with a definitive answer. Gaden Lamen has made sure that every specimen, result, and report his team had was provided to these researches. This was done to double-check Gaden’s findings by an unbiased third party. The results are as follows.” The woman clears her throat.

Mine closes, and I feel like I’m going to choke. Michael wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him.

“Elena and James died from a mutation of the Mors Plague. The researchers still haven’t been able to determine how they contracted it. Nevertheless, a plague has returned and it is deadlier than the Mors Plague. It is fast-acting and highly transmittable.”

“How do you know?” someone in the back of the room shouts.

“James and Elena were dead less than a week after contracting it. There are already several confirmed cases in the Tanis hospital. A couple of the individuals were at a bar with Michael the day after his mother died.”

“That still doesn’t mean that Aven and Michael are responsible for it,” someone else says.

“She survived it!” a shaky voice close to the front yells.

The older man stands up, and I can tell immediately that it’s Grey Coulson. I scan the room, but I don’t see Leo. He must’ve left for Terac already.

“Who survived it, Mr. Coulson?” the Otrar woman asks.

“Aven. She contracted it before Elena, and was only sick for a few hours. She survived because the disease grows within her. Obviously, she gave it to her mother and now her brother is a carrier as well. No one will survive as long as those two are still alive.”

Screams and shouts fill the room. The woman from Otrar tries to regain control of the room, but it’s quickly getting out of hand. Gaden Lamen stands and raises his voice, which gets everyone to stop talking.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he yells, trying to be heard over the rumblings. “You must not panic. This will be handled swiftly by the new medical team from Otrar. The Mitris have this well under control, even if the Sacrer and the established medical community do not.”

The dean scowls at that last comment, but turns his attention to someone else. “Grey,” Dean Chares begins, “you don’t know if the two are connected. This is not the same as it was three hundred years ago. You cannot associate the return of a disease to two children. The spiritual world would never let this happen.”

“Well, dean, not only did it return, but it mutated to be even deadlier!” Grey shouts. “I’m not willing to sit by and be murdered by this thing.”

“Calm down, Grey; we can talk about this like civilized people,” the dean says, putting his hands up to defend himself from a possible blow of words from Grey.

“I think he has a point,” Gaden says. “We should take Aven and Michael into custody as a precautionary measure.”

“Where are you hiding those two heathens?” Grey says, pushing his way through the audience. “In the kerk?”

We don’t wait for the answer. I turn off the device and put it in my coat pocket. We grab our coats and bags then head out of the room towards the torch. Michael pulls on it and the wall in front of us slides up. We step through it quickly, my heel barely making it through before the door closes. There isn’t any light in the tunnel, so we have to traverse it slowly. I keep stepping on Michael’s heels, but he doesn’t complain like he normally would. We get to the end of the tunnel ten minutes later, but the door won’t open. Horses whinny; as they stomp their hooves above our heads, pieces of hay fall between the planks. We back down the tunnel slightly, so not to get messy. It feels like hours pass before the door finally opens.

Dean Chares pulls us up from the cellar and hurries us over to one of the carriages used to transport the dead. He slides out two planks from the floor of the wagon at the back, helps us inside the hidden compartment, and places our duffles between the two of us and our rucksacks at our feet. He secures the boards back in place and covers the entire bed of the wagon in hay. I have to do everything in my power not to sneeze. The dean tells us we’ll be moving shortly, but I hear him running away. I begin to panic, then Michael finds my hand and squeezes it.

The carriage finally moves, but stops a few moments later. Something is placed on top of the hay and we start moving again. The foulest of odors pierces my nose. It smells like dried blood. A lot of it. I can hear flies buzzing around whatever is above us. Michael squeezes my hand again. I try not to breathe through my nose, but it’s difficult because I can taste the blood if I open my mouth. I’m not sure which sensation is worse. We’ve been moving for about ten minutes when the carriage stops again.

“What can I do for you, Gaden?” Dean Chares asks in a very casual voice.

“Where are you heading to, Dean?”

“Do you not see the body in the back? I’m going to the henge to give this man a proper passing.”

“Then where’s his family?” Gaden asks, anger growing in his voice.

“This man had no family. Not everyone in Castellum has kin. He was caught in a thresher the other day. Enough spiritual time has passed, so I can now proceed to the pyre with him.”

That’s why he put on the purple robes. He knew this would be the only safe way to get us to the valley.

The sound of boots pacing around us fills my ears. “Very well, Dean,” Gaden says as the pacing stops. “You may move ahead.”

The horse moves at a gentle pace, so not to draw suspicion. I know we’re on the Sojourner’s Path since I can hear the wind whistling around the trees. I’m not relishing the idea of being trapped in the coffin-like compartment for the next hour, but I also don’t want Dean Chares to speed ahead in case there’s someone watching the path.

The temperature drops as we begin to make the climb up the hill. It doesn’t warm any when we descend into the valley. Once the carriage has stopped, the dean hurries towards the back, removes the body, and frees us from our tomb. I take a big breath of fresh air, filling my lungs until they’re ready to explode.

“Are there really people already in the hospital with this new disease?” I ask while Michael helps the dean with the body.

“Unfortunately, yes. I confirmed it with the head of the current medical team. One passed away this morning.”

“Who?” Michael asks.

“That young man you always play darts with,” the dean responds.

Michael looks to be in shock, but quickly regains his composure. I gather our belongings as Michael and the dean set the body on the pyre. We stay for only a few moments after the body has been lit, to say goodbye to the dean. I hug Michael as if I’ll never see him again. I’m not sure if I will, and that breaks my heart. I don’t know what life will be like for us if we aren’t together.

“Here,” Michael says, handing me the tome. “I really don’t need it.”

I take the book, put it in the rucksack, and give him another hug before we head off in our separate directions, Michael going west and me heading east.

SIX

I have to stop after several hours of walking to add extra layers of clothing. My socks are soaked through, so I switch them out with a dry pair. My stomach rumbles, but I have nothing to eat. I don’t know how long I can go without food, and I’m growing more tired with each passing hour.

Just before nightfall, I come across an abandoned farm. The house is a shell, burnt down ages ago. The lone barn is the only standing structure. I take shelter in it as snow begins to fall. I put my bags down and search the building for food, but I come up empty. I make myself a nest in the back corner on the wooden floor, pull some hay bales over to give me protection from the elements, and use my bag as a pillow. As I remove the sphere from my coat pocket to place it in the rucksack, I discover several pouches of dried meat and fruit. Apparently, the dean stuck those in there when he was changing. I remove the pouches, along with the journal and the black disc. I hungrily dig into the salty pieces of meat as I place the device on the first page and check my location with Michael’s.

I’m about a full day’s walk away from Castra, which is labeled as a traveler’s camp on the map. There’s a road about two hours east of my current location that branches up to the north, ending at Castra, so I make a mental note of it. Michael, on the other hand, doesn’t appear to be as far from Delphi as I had hoped. He’s currently in a place called Acad Fields. Unfortunately, the map doesn’t give me an exact description of what Acad Fields is, like it does for Castra, so I’m assuming it’s a town or city.

I’d probably know if I’d studied.

The red dot isn’t moving, so perhaps he’s settled in for the night as well. I tuck all items back into the rucksack, close my eyes, and try to get some sleep. It comes and goes throughout the night, much like it did the night before. I leave the barn before the sun has fully risen. Thankfully, the snow has stopped and the temperature feels to be on the rise, so I’m able to shed some of my extra layers. Close to noon I finally come upon the road I spotted on the map the night before, although it’s only composed of dirt. Well, mud with all the snow that’s fallen. I’m passed by several groups heading west as I continue east. Over an hour later the road splits off to the north – and Castra – so that’s the path I take.

Carts laden with a variety of goods almost run me over the further I go so finally I move off the road, walking along it rather than on it. Music floats on the air as I begin to see turrets in the distance, illuminated by torches. The tune being played is not one I’m familiar with, but it has a nice tone to it. The road ends at the entrance of a massive fort. Men with rifles parade atop the walls, but they’re the only ones I see with weapons. There isn’t any signage on the outside of the structure, but the moment I walk in I’m directed to a weapons storage building on the right. A sign hangs next to the small shed, stating that no weapons of any kind are permitted in the camp. Only the mercenaries who patrol the perimeter are permitted to carry them.

I’m forced to let go of my bags so they can be searched. When nothing is found, they’re handed back to me. The secret pocket is definitely well hidden. I stumble my way deeper into the camp towards a massive fire pit in the center that has a blaze roaring, reaching almost as high as the outer walls. Paths through the camp are lit by lanterns, which hang from poles stuck into the ground. Tents cover much of the area to my right and left. There have to be over a hundred total. I ask a young woman where I can get food and bed down for the night. She points to the northeast corner and tells me to check in at the keeper’s shed. I thank her and move on.

There’s a line when I find the location, but it moves quickly. The sign next to the counter of the shed lists what’s available for purchase and how much. I decide what options I want ahead of time, so I’m not bumbling like an idiot when it gets to be my turn. I step up when it’s my turn, and notice the woman behind the counter looks worn out. Her curly red hair hangs in clumps around her shoulders, and her eyelids sag. She asks me what I want.

“Two nights and four meals, please,” I respond, digging in my rucksack for the pouch.

“That’ll be forty marks,” she says, reaching behind her and pulling out a blanket and pillow from a stack.

I hand her the money. She hands me the items along with four meal vouchers and tells me that I’ll be in tent 37, which is five rows behind me. She adds that the pillow and blanket need to be returned to her before I leave. I thank her and go find my tent. It takes me some time, as the tags on the exterior flaps of the tents are worn and the poor lighting makes it difficult to read the numbers. When I finally locate mine, it already has two occupants, but the tent can hold up to four. I set the pillow, blanket, and my duffle on one of the empty cots, but I keep my rucksack strapped across my shoulders. The tent is a little bigger than I thought it would be and even has a small wood-burning heater in the middle. My tent-mates give me ominous looks as I sit on my cot, so I take my vouchers and go find something to eat.

All meals are served in the great hall in the southeast section of the camp. I place three of the vouchers in the rucksack, hand one to the person working the door, and get in line. I take a tray and am given one plate of food and a tin cup filled with ale. I’ve never touched the stuff in my life, but it’s better than nothing. I take a seat along the far wall, close to the fireplace. I’m in a strange place and unfamiliar with the surroundings so I keep my back to the wall since I don’t want anyone coming up behind me. I eat slowly, not sure if I’ll like what’s been served to me. It’s not horrible, but it’s not like anything my mother cooked for us.

I set my fork down, as I’ve lost my appetite. Thinking of my mother and father dead, and now Michael and me separated is becoming too much. I want to pull out the journal to see where Michael could be, but I also don’t want to draw attention to myself. I’m not sure how much of the Ancient technology people out here are aware of, and I don’t need them asking me questions I can’t possibly answer. I sip the ale, pursing my lips at the tartness. I begin eating again, but mainly to get the taste of the foul liquid out of my mouth. I can only stomach a few more bites, and I toss the remaining food into a trash receptacle and place both tray and cup on a rack by the door.

Snow has started to fall, a lot heavier than in previous days. My tent-mates are gone when I get back, but their belongings are still there. I check the tent flaps to make sure they’re closed before changing clothes and removing the journal and black disc. Michael has gotten a lot farther today. He’s currently in the hamlet of Welding, which looks like a smaller version of Haile. It sits at the base of the Sabra Mountain Range, which extends beyond the boundaries of the map both to the north and south. I put the black disc away and remove the blue one. The closest Sacrer building is in a city called Parime. A silhouette of a temple turns several inches above the page. I tap my finger on it and the map calculates the distance between my current location and the temple, giving me a distance of just over eight-hundred miles.

There’s no way I can walk that. I’ll have to see if I can barter my way on a carriage going in that direction.

I turn off the disc and tuck the items back into the rucksack just as a horn blows loudly. I poke my head out of one of the flaps and notice everyone is moving towards the fire pit, so I follow. Four carriages block the front gate and the mercenaries from earlier are no longer patrolling the walls. I step cautiously into the crowd, moving only a few rows away from the pit.

“You have no jurisdiction here!” a man shouts to whomever has entered the camp.

“I assure you we mean no harm, but come with an offer,” a man replies with a slight lilt in his voice.

He hops onto the wall of the fire pit. I notice he’s wearing the uniform of the Order of Terac: tall, heavy boots, dark-blue pants, and a long, dark-blue trench coat that closes over the left side of the body. Silver strips cover his sleeves. A belt around his waist carries a type of rifle I’ve never seen before. It looks high-tech, something that would’ve been produced in Tanis.

“Get on with it then,” another man says.

“We’re looking for two Ligotas,” he says as another person in a Terac uniform tries to hand out pieces of parchment, which no one is taking.

“What the hell is a Ligotas?” someone behind me asks.

The man smiles, but it’s clear this isn’t going as smoothly as he believed it would. “They are people who carry disease. Willfully spreading it to anyone they come in contact with. It’s for your own protection that we must locate these two individuals. An award of fifty-thousand marks to anyone who can bring them to Gaden Lamen in the City of Delphi.”

Laughter erupts from the crowd. Clearly, no one is buying the bullshit this man is trying to sell.

“Castra is home to all. You’ll find no help here,” a woman says. The voice sounds familiar, so I try to crane my neck to see who it belongs to. The woman from the keeper’s shed stands with her arms folded over her chest. Defiance is etched hard on her face.

“Very well,” the man says, jumping down so he’s standing face to face with the woman. “If you feel a deadly mutation of the Mors Plague is nothing to fear then, by all means, hide the two heathens.”

Gasps escape from the mouths of some in the audience.

“We will be patrolling the outside of the camp and checking all who enter and leave. If you will not turn these two people over, we will take them from you ourselves.”

A few now take the parchment from the officer while I slip around the outside of the crowd and backtrack to my tent. I pick up a flyer an older gentleman drops as he passes the tent.

“The markings of a Ligotas: Members of this horde will have the image of snakes tied into knots located on the inside of their right wrist. It is branded into the skin in a dark pigment.”

The image is displayed at the bottom of the page.

I fold the paper and place it in my rucksack when I’m back in my tent. My tent-mates have returned and are snoring heavily. I extinguish the lone light, which hangs above the heater, and turn in for the night, making sure the hood of my winter coat is over my head to hide my face. I know I shouldn’t be so complacent about the search for Michael and me, but I’m too tired to move. Hopefully, the Teracs will only look for the markings and not at peoples’ faces.

Why would the officers think that anyone carrying the plague would have that marking? I don’t and, according to Gaden Lamen, I’m a carrier. Is there more going on than just looking for these Ligotas? Are they even diseased? I wish I could get my thoughts straight.

I shut my eyes tight and fall asleep, thinking all kinds of outlandish possibilities. My dreams consume me the moment I enter them. I’m back in the City of Delphi, only this time it’s burning – with the exception of the kerk, which I’m standing in front of. Michael stands before me, but he’s not my brother anymore. The monster he’s become has shimmering, navy-colored wings jutting out of his back, right where his shoulder blades should be. They’re bony, long, and jagged. His skin is now an ashen color and his eyes are as dark as the night. When he smiles, his canine teeth are sharp enough to cut his lips when he moves his jaw. By his side he’s holding a long, curved blade.

“Join us, Aven,” he hisses to me, but his mouth doesn’t move.

“Never!” I shout.

“It’s already going to happen; just trust us.”

“What have you done, Michael?”

“I’ve saved humanity from itself.” It’s at this moment I realize he’s in my head, communicating telepathically.

“You’re wrong. You’ve doomed Comoros, and me.”

“No, Aven. See? You’re already one of us.” He holds up his right arm, pulls back the sleeve of his jacket, and shows me the Ligotas mark branded into his wrist.

My left hand automatically covers my right wrist, but I can already feel a welt rise under my shirt. I gingerly roll up the cuff and stare at the burn on my arm. It looks fresh and still stings. My eyes rise towards Michael, tears spilling from them.

“How? Why?”

“It’s always been there, Aven. You just needed motivation to draw it out.”

My body contorts and spasms. I feel like my bones are being crushed as I begin to change into a monster, like him.

I catch the scream that’s rising in my throat, so it doesn’t come out. I don’t need to draw my tent-mates’ attention. My mouth is dry, so I roll out of bed and go searching for something to drink. There’s a barrel of water a few aisles over, so I take a couple of gulps from the tap then return to my tent. I bury myself as much as possible in the blanket, but within moments of settling in the flaps to my tent fly open. Four Teracs enter, their weapons drawn. I pretend not to notice them, hoping that if they think I’m asleep they’ll leave.

“Take her!” one of them shouts.

I stiffen, waiting to be seized, but it’s not me they grab.

“Get off me!” one of my tent-mates yells.

I peer above my blanket to see the two young women fight off the Teracs. Their cots are knocked over and broken in the scuffle, which doesn’t last long. I finally move when everyone has left the tent. The disturbance woke much of the camp so I walk with a crowd that has formed, following the Teracs with the two women. The people stop by the pit, as their paths have become blocked. The Teracs place the two women in one of the carriages, while the leader addresses a young man with brown hair wearing a leather vest over a white knit shirt. The young man takes a pouch from the leader, gripping it tightly in hands covered in fingerless gloves.

“So, was selling your soul worth it?” someone asks the young man as the Teracs move out.

The man doesn’t respond as he walks towards the great hall. No one follows him inside. I go back to my tent to assess the damage. The back portion of the tent is slightly ripped from a piece of the support for one of the cots that punctured the material. The women’s bags are still in the tent. I’m half-tempted to go through them when the woman from the keeper’s shed enters and removes the bags. The cots are replaced and several additional logs are handed to me since the temperature inside the tent has dropped. I put them inside the heater, get back under my blanket, and try to get some more sleep. All the while, I sing my mother’s song in my head to try and comfort myself.

The sound of people milling about just outside brings me out of my slumber. An inch of snow covers the ground, making the terrain muddy. I use the lavatory, brush the fuzz from my teeth, and head to the great hall. Breakfast consists of thick oatmeal with dried fruit mixed in. I eat it all since I’m starving, wishing I could go back for seconds. I have two food vouchers left, which need to get me dinner for tonight and breakfast tomorrow. Today, I’ve decided that I need to find passage to the City of Parime. I have no idea how to go about doing that since everyone in Castra pretty much keeps to themselves. I’m not thrilled with the idea of just randomly going up to people and ask if they’re headed in that direction, since I don’t want to draw attention to myself. Especially if someone is looking for me. I don’t need what happened last night to happen to me.

I decide to plop myself on a bench by the fire pit and hope that I can chime into an existing conversation that I might overhear. I observe travelers move in and out of the camp, but all carts with goods of any kind are stopped outside the entrance. This causes some congestion when people stop to purchase the items or wares. I catch glimpses of men in Terac uniforms wandering around, but none enter.

I wonder what they’re still doing here. They apprehended the two people they were looking for. Are there others they’re after? Do they know I’m here, but don’t want to draw attention to it? Will I be seized the moment I leave?

Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I jump.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the young man says. “I was wondering if anyone was sitting here.” He points to the seat next to me.

“No, go ahead,” I respond, gesturing for him to sit.

He smiles, a wide grin, and creases form at the corners of his mouth. His dark skin blends into the brown of his jacket, which strains from the muscles that are prominent underneath. He appears to only be a few inches taller than me and maybe a year or two older. He leans back, folds his arms across his lap, then closes his eyes. I continue to gaze at those entering and leaving. A few people comment about the incident last night, but mainly to complain about the young man who turned the women in. No one knows where he currently is, but have stated that he’ll be in grave danger when he leaves Castra. It sounds like people are protective of their privacy in this region.

“No one takes kindly to snitches, especially when profit is involved,” the young man next to me says, as if reading my mind.

I hide my surprise at his comment. “Is that common here?”

“Castra is neutral ground. There’s an unspoken rule that you don’t rat on anyone no matter who they are or what they’ve done. Once you leave, of course, it can be all-out war depending upon who you pissed off. All bets are off.”

“What type of people stay in a place like this?”

“Oh, a variety of individuals. There are mercenaries, hunters, traders, thieves, and maybe gypsies. Almost anything, really.”

“What are you?” I ask.

“I’m a hunter.”

“What types of things do you hunt?”

“Wild game, escaped prisoners, monsters. Anything people will pay me for.”

I let out a laugh. “Monsters? You can’t be serious?”

“You’d be surprised what types of creatures roam about Comoros.”

“Now you’re just making shit up.”

We both laugh.

He holds out his hand towards me. “My name’s Knox. What’s yours?”

“It’s Aven,” I reply, shocked by telling the truth, but I don’t know what else to do at this point in time.

We shake hands and talk a little more, mainly trying to determine what everyone’s purpose in the camp is. Are they a hunter or a mercenary? Are they going about their normal business, or do they have something sinister going on? This goes on for over an hour. It’s been a long time since I laughed so hard. I’m about to get up since my ass is now frozen, but stop when I see a pair of burly men enter the camp, each wearing a Mitris uniform. Theirs are black, not red like Gaden Lamen’s, but they still have the gold piping down the seams. I retake my seat, bring my knees up to my chest, and pull my hood down. I can sense the quizzical expression on Knox’s face.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“Freezing. I should go back to my tent and stand by the heater.”

I wait for the men to pass, then excuse myself and head for my tent. Thankfully, no one new has been placed in the empty cots. I try to thaw myself out as much as possible, while thinking of a way to get out of Castra sooner rather than later. I may have to walk all the way to Parime, at least until I can come up with a different plan. I decide not to spend another night, so I fold up my blanket, grab my pillow, and return them to the keeper’s shed. The woman only refunds me part of my money for the second night, but I don’t want to call attention to myself so I don’t argue with her. I want to hit the road while it’s still light out, and walk quietly back to my tent, hoping I can make my exit with ease. Knox is sitting on my cot when I enter, my rucksack and duffle slung over his shoulders.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I almost scream at him.

He moves quickly and covers my mouth with his hand. “Getting you out of here.”

Another person enters the tent. It’s the young man from last night. I start to move but Knox holds me in place.

“Stay still,” the young man says.

He takes my hand, grasping it tightly, then focuses on something behind me. A shimmering yellow light glows around me for a second. I try to pull my hand away, but the young man jerks it back.

“Don’t let go or this won’t work,” he says to me. “Do you have any weapons in storage?”

“No,” I respond with a voice that isn’t my own. “What the hell did you do to me?” I ask, panic setting in.

Knox places his hands on my shoulders. “Aven, just relax. Everything is going to be fine.”

He slips my bags around my shoulders, checks outside the tent, and signals for us to follow. We make our way to the weapons storage where Knox collects a belt loaded with knives and an ax. He then collects a crossbow and a quiver full of arrows. The young man places a few marks in the jar as a tip and we head out the entrance just as several more Mitris enter – including Gaden Lamen. I hold my breath, terrified of being spotted, but he looks right past me and continues into the camp after surrendering his weapon.

“Where’d you hide the carriage?” Knox asks once we’re a little further away from the camp.

“It’s a mile up the road,” the young man says.

I try to jerk my hand away again, but the young man squeezes it to the point of almost crushing my fingers.

“Not yet, Aven,” he says calmly.

Knox glances behind us every few minutes. Why, I’m not sure. I get more nervous the further we move away from people. We head off of the road a little over twenty minutes later, and enter a small forest. The young waves his hand and several of the trees vanish, revealing a carriage. My hand is finally released and I notice the slight charge in the air disappear. Knox gestures for me to climb into the back, but I hold my ground.

“What the hell just happened?” I ask, shoving Knox.

“Calm down, Aven. You’re safe,” he says, hands out in front of him defensively.

“Who are you?” I ask them.

“All will be explained when we get to Parime,” the young man answers as he tends to the lone horse, who is quickly devouring the food in the man’s hand.

“Where’s your map?” Knox asks.

“How the hell do you know about that?”

“Not now,” the young man says. “We need to hit the road before we’re followed.”

I reluctantly climb into the back, Knox following, and the young man takes the reins at the front. We move towards the road, but then veer north. The ground we’re on wasn’t made for carriages, so we bounce violently with every bump we hit. The buggy portion of the carriage is a lot more opulent than the others I’ve traveled in. The bench is padded, there are carafes filled with a dark liquid along the front, and the windows of both doors are covered in lace curtains.

“Ok, now give me the map. I need to see where Michael is.”

“I… what?”

Knox reaches into my rucksack and removes the journal. “Where’s the disc?”

I tap the pocket it’s in and he retrieves that as well. He opens the journal, places the black disc on its spot, and the map erupts.

“How did you know how to use this?” I ask, still dumbfounded by everything that’s just happened.

“I can explain everything when we get to Parime,” he says as he stares at the red dot on the map.

Michael has left the hamlet of Welding, and is now moving along the base of the Sabra Mountains. The red dot just bobs in its spot, but it could be because he’s climbing the mountain.

“I want you to explain everything now,” I say, snatching the journal back and removing the disc.

“Turn the page.”

“What?”

“In the journal, turn the page.”

I do and it’s the same image of Michael and me parting in the valley.

Knox nods for me to turn it again.

I do and the image solidifies. It’s a squat building with a domed roof, heavy wooden doors, two extensions expanding from its sides, and a large circular window above the door appears. The dome shimmers in gold filigree. The stained glass of the large window glows as if there’s a light behind the page, almost projecting the Sacrer image into the air. Three people are outside the door: Knox, me, and the young man in the driver’s seat of the carriage.

“How?” I ask.

“Later. You need to get some rest. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us,” he says, tossing a blanket to me that had been stashed under the seat.

SEVEN

We stop when the sun sets. There’s no point in traveling when you can’t see where you’re going. The young man, whose name I learn is Zander, gets a fire started while Knox breaks out some canned food from the front of the carriage. While he readies dinner, Zander walks slowly around our little area. Every few feet I notice the air around us become wavy, then settle back to normal.

“What’s he doing?” I ask Knox.

“Protecting us,” is the only response I get.

We eat our dinner quietly, then I’m given the carriage to sleep in while Knox and Zander sleep on the ground. No matter what I do, I can’t find a comfortable position on the bench. I finally give up, take my blanket, and exit the carriage to sleep on the ground. I find another blanket and pillow have already been laid out for me between the two of them.

How did they know I would come back out?

I wrap myself up in the blanket I brought with me, lie down, and promptly fall asleep. Sometime later, Knox rouses me from my slumber, shaking me violently, then covers my mouth when I’m about to speak. He points to the clearing behind us where two Mitris are moving around, looking for something. I hold my breath as they cautiously approach our camp. I’m not sure why they can’t see us clearly since we’re in full sight of the two of them, but they seem uncertain as to our location.

“Are you sure they’re over here?” one of the Mitris asks the other.

“Yes, that’s what the documents say,” the woman responds.

“How do we even know they’re here yet? According to the documents, they’re not due here for some time.”

“Will you just trust me?” the woman says, clearly becoming annoyed. “All that has happened already is happening before it was originally supposed to. If they’re aware of these changes, like I think they are, then naturally they will have moved up their departure from Castra.”

“But, how do you know it’s this exact location?”

The woman turns to her companion, and grabs him around the neck. “The documents don’t lie. This has been their camp in all previous occurrences, so why wouldn’t it be for this one?” She releases the young man, who is turning purple from lack of air.

I glance around, trying to figure out where we can hide, when the woman screams. An arrow pierces her heart. Her friend unsheathes a sharply-curved blade with a short handle, but he falls to the ground moments later with an arrow to the neck. Zander jumps down from a tree he was in, waves his hand, and enters the camp.

“We need to move,” he says as he throws everything into the carriage. “Who knows how many more of them are out there?”

Knox hurries me in, climbs in next to me, and Zander spurs the horse to a fast pace.

“Who were those people?” Knox finally asks.

“Mitris,” I answer. “They’re trying to take over the religious control in the City of Delphi and its villages. Their leader was entering Castra just as we were leaving. I was stunned he didn’t recognize me.”

“That’s because Zander was using an illusion spell. It transforms people and objects into someone or something different. The person who casts the spell must maintain contact with the person or object the entire time or the spell dissolves.”

“Which is why he wouldn’t let go of my hand.”

“Exactly.”

“But what about back there? I thought for sure they saw us; I mean, how could they not? They were looking right at us.”

“Concealment charm. Zander initiated one last night when we made camp, then adjusted it this morning so he could be free from it when he noticed those two getting close to our position.”

“Spells? Charms? What the hell, Knox?”

“All will be explained when we get to the temple in Parime.”

I slam my head against the back of the buggy in frustration. I lean against the side and stare out into grasslands as snow starts to fall again.

I don’t remember dozing off. The sharp noise of the horses’ hooves on the pavement brings me out of my slumber. A bustling city lies around us. The stone pavement is freshly damp, probably from the snow. Tall buildings with smokestacks line the roads that go off in many directions from the main one we’re traveling. People in odd clothing wander about, some with umbrellas still open. Mothers take their children by the hand before crossing the street. Men hold carriage doors open for other passengers as they depart the buggy. This city is a lot larger than Delphi, and looks to be a century older, or perhaps simply less technologically advanced. I can’t tell which. The clothes I wear look alien compared to the garb on the people in the street. I almost feel like I’ve moved back in time.

I tap Knox on the foot, rousing him from his sleep. He lets out a snort when he tries to clear his throat. He fixes his jacket, which has become twisted awkwardly around his body.

“Is this Parime?” I ask.

“Yes,” he answers, then leans forward towards Zander. After a brief exchange, Knox sits back. “It’ll be another twenty minutes before we reach the temple.”

“Why is everyone here dressed differently than in Castra or even you and me?” I ask. “They look so out of place from the rest of Comoros.”

“Parime is an Ancient city. It was the first city founded in our region. There are traditions here that other cities and villages no longer follow. Parime is almost stuck in a time loop in the past. No matter what changes have been tried, Parime has always and will always maintain its original culture.”

“Is there a specific reason for that?”

“It’s connected to you and Michael.”

I rub my forehead. “Let me guess: it has something to do with the prophecy.”

“You got it.”

“Why didn’t I study with Michael?” I say aloud, but more to myself than anyone else.

“Because you weren’t supposed to,” Zander pipes up from the front.

“What does that mean? That I’ve been purposefully kept from learning anything about the Sacrer religion and the prophecy for twelve cycles? Why not let me in on the outcome for the thirteenth? Why still keep it from me?”

“It’s what we were told to do, Aven,” Knox responds.

“By whom and why?”

“You can ask Dean Eligius when we get to the temple,” Zander says, ending the conversation.

After a very quiet and awkward twenty minutes, the carriage finally stops in front of a massive building. The gold dome shines brightly even in the snow that has begun to fall. Zander opens my door before I can, and I step out with my belongings. Knox is right behind me, nudging me forward to climb the steps. I look back to see Zander has moved the carriage around the corner and out of sight.

Thin steps lead up to heavy wooden doors covered in wrought iron, making them difficult to open. The vestibule we step into bends with the roof, eventually expanding outward on both sides. Pews fill the space, along with colorful mosaics, bizarre sculptures, and pillars of lit candles. We step deeper into the temple and stop just short of the stairs rising to the altar in the center. If the sun was out, I imagine the image from the large stained-glass window would shine right down on top of it.

Knox signals for me to follow him further inside. Behind the altar is the sanctuary with the twelve paintings, two of which are now clear as day. I study them carefully, wondering if there are more of these.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” a soft voice whispers behind me.

I turn as Knox nudges my arm. The man in the red robes is tall and thin. His wire-rimmed glasses sit at the tip of his nose. His hair is long and wispy, but his face is clean-shaven.

“Aven, this is Dean Eligius,” Knox says as he takes my duffle from my hand.

“I’m sure you’re hungry from the journey. Follow me and I’ll get you settled,” the dean says.

He turns and exits out a set of doors at the back. Behind the temple is a vast garden filled with flowers and trees I’ve never seen before. The air feels warmer here than when we exited the carriage. When I look up I notice that the snow is still falling, but none is landing in the garden. There isn’t any roof over the area, so I’m not sure what’s preventing the snow from falling.

Another spell or charm?

We step down onto a pebble-covered path and walk around what I presume is the outer rim of the garden. Birds chirp and water burbles, but I can’t tell from where. It takes us several minutes to reach the building at the end of the garden. It’s three-stories, gray brick, and has only a few windows. The entrance opens into a narrow hallway that leads to an ornate spiral staircase rising in such a way that I can see much of the other two floors.

“On this floor you will find the kitchen, meeting rooms, and my office,” Dean Eligius says. “The second level is where you’ll be staying.”

We climb the stairs to the second floor and proceed half way down the hall, then stop. The door the dean opens has a triple knot surrounded by wings etched into its paneling. Inside the room is a single bed, desk, and dresser. The room isn’t any bigger than my old bedroom in Haile.

“This will be your room, Aven,” the dean says, stepping away so I can enter. “Knox will be down the hall.”

I glance down the corridor, but my eyes stop on the door for the room across from mine. This one has an elaborate knot with the tip of a sword pointing from the bottom.

“What’s with the symbols?” I ask as Knox sets my bag down on the floor of my room.

“Each has a meaning, which we will discuss once you’ve had a proper meal,” Dean Eligius answers.

We leave the rest of our belongings in our rooms and follow the dean back down to the kitchen. It appears he’s the only one who currently resides here in the rectory, although there’s plenty of room for more. Knox helps the dean make lunch while I set the table. I initially set it for four, but Knox tells me that Zander won’t be eating with us. I put the extra place setting back and wonder where he could be; I’m sure he’s as hungry as the rest of us. We sit and eat a concoction of noodles in some sort of cream sauce that tastes amazing. Knox cleans up while the dean takes me back to the temple.

“I was standing right here when the first painting came to life,” the dean begins once we’re back in the sanctuary. “Months earlier than expected, so that’s when we knew everything was beginning. I sent Knox and Zander to Castra to find you.”

“Like they have all the other times,” I state more than ask.

The dean shakes his head, gathers his robes, and sits on one of the benches under the paintings. “The same twelve paintings that are in the kerk in Delphi are also here as you can see. They are at all five sacred places in Comoros so that the dean at each location knows when the end has started.”

“The end?”

“Of our current evolution. We have waited twelve lifetimes for this event to occur.”

“So, you remember everything that has happened in the past, just like Dean Chares?”

“Yes. All the deans do.”

“Yet you all chose to erase those memories from Michael and me.”

“We were ordered to. It was our part in the prophecy.”

“Ordered by whom? You’re the ones in charge, so why wouldn’t you just make the change? It would’ve saved everyone a lot of time and trouble.”

“It’s not that easy, Aven,” Dean Eligius says, standing, anger entering his voice. “You will learn all of that while you’re here.”

“What if I don’t want to be here?” I ask, responding to his anger.

He smiles, almost laughing a little. “You say that every time, yet here you are. You won’t leave until you’ve learned what you need to know.”

A brief flash catches our attention. The third painting changes, coming into focus. A massive mountain range fills the entire frame – with the exception of Michael, who looks to be entering a cave. He looks frozen, tired, and hungry. I wonder if he’s had anything to eat other than the dried meat and fruit, or gotten any real sleep.

“Ah, I see Michael is about to discover the entrance to Lertis,” the dean says.

“What’s Lertis?” I ask, studying the painting more closely.

“It’s one of the five sacred cities in Comoros. Michael will meet the dean of the Lertis catacombs and finish his instructions in regards to the prophecy just as you will start yours,” Dean Eligius says. “What do you know of the Zerah Prophecy?”

“The what?”

Dean Eligius smiles. “Of course, what a silly question of me to ask. You wouldn’t know about it, as you’re at the beginning stage.” He clears his throat, adjusts his collar, and takes a deep breath. “The Zerah Prophecy marks the end of the Sacrer religion and a beginning of a new one, as told to us by the Ancients. It’s an evolution that will end in one of our most turbulent times in history. The prophecy is only taught to those it’s about. This is to preserve the integrity of the prophecy and prevent any deviations from occurring.” He clears his throat again, which I find odd. “’Zerah’, in the Ancient tongue, means ‘twin’. Such as you and Michael.”

“Is it these Ancients, or whatever, who prevented you from allowing Michael and me to remember any of the previous cycles?”

The dean looks taken a back, almost as if he wasn’t expecting that question. “Yes.” He turns around and heads towards the door. “I have to go check on something, Aven. Please, make yourself at home.”

I’m now alone in the sanctuary, perplexed about his sudden departure until it dawns on me what might have just occurred.

Did I just make a deviation? Was the question I asked never brought up before?

I want to stay longer in the sanctuary, but a foul odor strikes my nose. I realize it’s me, so I head back to the rectory. I have to dig in my duffle for some clean clothes. The showers are at the other end of the hall from the bedrooms. There’s already a towel, soap, and shampoo in one of the stalls when I enter the communal bath. I’m glad no one else is in here and I can take my time.

The light outside has faded by the time I return to my room. There isn’t a clock around, so I have no idea what time it is. My stomach is growling so I go down towards the kitchen, but stop short when I hear voices coming from an office just left of the stairs. I get as close to the door as possible, which is open a crack.

“I need to know what happened,” Dean Eligius says, anxiety high in his voice.

“There was a deviation in Castra,” Zander responds.

“That part I understand, since you all arrived early. What I want to know is how.”

“They knew we were there,” Knox answers. “They even tracked us to the camping spot we’d used the other times.”

What a minute? Do Knox and Zander remember the past? Why them?

“They who?” the dean asks.

“Aven called them the Mitris,” Zander says. “I’m not sure where they came from or how they know anything about the prophecy.”

“How is this possible?” the dean responds.

“I don’t know,” Knox answers.

“We need answers and fast,” Zander says. “I wonder if there have been any other changes besides Aven and Michael’s journey starting early, the Mitris at Castra, and the question Aven asked.”

“Yes, there have been,” I answer, pushing the door the rest of the way open.

Zander stands, allowing me to take his seat.

“How many so far?” Dean Eligius asks.

“Three that I’ve been made aware of.” I explain about my illness, how my mother died, and the elders’ inquest.

“We need to find out who injected you and your mother, and why,” Dean Eligius says as he leans against his desk. “Knox, you’ll leave tomorrow for Delphi.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one going?” Zander asks.

“I need you here to get Aven trained. The two of you are going to have to study and practice all day, every day, for the foreseeable future.”

“How will I be able to contact you when I get to Delphi? Parime doesn’t have any phones or outside communication systems of any kind,” Knox says.

“I’ve got a communication sphere,” I blurt out. “I swiped it from Dean Chares before Michael and I were forced to leave.”

They all smile, but Zander’s doesn’t last. “Won’t we be creating a deviation? Sending Knox to Delphi has never happened, so we don’t know what kind of ripple effect this may have.”

“I’m aware of the possible consequences,” Dean Eligius says, raising his hand to calm Zander. “As long as the paintings in the sanctuary continue to come to life, I’m not going to fret about this slight change.”

“What if they stop?” Knox asks before I can.

“There are provisions already in place in case that happens. The Ancients thought of every scenario possible, in order for us to have a successful transition to our new lives. Now, I suggest you all get to bed soon since you’ll have a very early day tomorrow.”

With that, we’re dismissed. Knox heads upstairs while Zander follows me into the kitchen. I make us a couple of sandwiches, but feel like eating alone, so I take my food back to my room. Once my door is closed, I remove the journal and black disc from the rucksack before sitting down at the desk to eat. The third image in the journal is just like the one in the sanctuary, only when I open the map, Michael isn’t heading towards Lertis. He’s moving north along the mountain range instead of through it. I assumed he would use the cave to get to the city, but perhaps I’m wrong.

I switch out the black disc for the blue one. The City of Lertis is shown as deep in the mountain range, probably several hours’ hike through the various passes. The blue disc not only shows the Sacrer cities, but how to get to each one. As I’m about to turn off the map, I spot small dots popping up. I tap on the map to enlarge the images and they transform into the Sacrer symbol, only they’re not located on any specific building or city. In fact, they’re nowhere near civilization.

I wonder what’s in those places.

I turn off the disc, store everything in the rucksack, turn off the lights, and go to bed. My eyes aren’t closed for very long before my mind begins to raise questions.

Why were Knox and Zander able to keep their memories? What will happen if one of the paintings doesn’t materialize? Will sending Knox to Delphi cause bigger issues? How did the Mitris know where we were and when we would be there? How does the dean know what the paintings are supposed to look like if they’ve never come into full focus before? Is that information in the Finity Book?

My head begins to pound as these questions collide. I finally give up on getting any sleep, so I get out of bed and open my door. Zander is standing in front of the door across the hall from me, his arms folded over his chest.

“How long have you been waiting out here?” I ask, closing my door.

“An hour.”

“You knew I was getting up, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

I lean against the wall and mimic his stance. “Why were you and Knox permitted to keep your memories while Michael and I weren’t?”

“It’s what the Ancients wanted, at least for me. I’m a Sacrer Guardian. Your Guardian. I have to retain my memories in order to protect and guide you.”

“What about Knox?”

“I’ll let him tell you how he was able to retain his memories. It’s a fascinating story.” Zander smiles, but it’s not a pleasant one. Chills run down my spine and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

“Will Michael have a Guardian like you?”

“He’ll meet his in Lertis.”

I let a few moments of silence pass between us before speaking. “So, now what?”

“Come with me; I want to show you something.”

We head down the spiral staircase, but Zander stops before the last step. He presses on a symbol embedded along the side of the railing that resembles the one on my door: a triple knot surrounded by wings. The floor at the base of the first step gives way to another staircase and we descend. The room we enter is long, musty, and has a low ceiling. There doesn’t seem to be any air circulation, yet the flames that spring to life on the torches that line the walls sway in an invisible breeze. The room is filled with books of various sizes, design, and age, much like the ones at the kerk. We step onto the floor of the room as the opening for the basement slides closed. I traverse the room, taking in all its smells and décor.

“Is this an archive?”

“Yes,” Zander responds. “Only the kerk and this temple have it. The other three buildings just have the paintings.”

“Why’d you bring me down here?”

“This place holds all the answers to your questions. We’ll meet down here in the morning to start your training. You’ll learn your history, then we’ll go over what all the symbols around the temple mean, where you’ll find them, and how to use them.” He leans over to the bookshelf closest to the stairs and removes a small leather-bound book. He flips through the pages, then hands it to me. “Take it as it contains important spells you’ll need to know.”

“Like the ones you used?”

“Yes.”

I take the book and look through it, noticing that the pages contain nothing but symbols, some of them incomplete. There’s a cypher to the symbols on the first three pages, but it doesn’t help any since it’s in a language I don’t understand.

“How am I supposed to read this?” I ask, holding up the book.

“Use the tome Michael gave you. It’ll help with the translation from the Ancient language to the modern one.”

“So, he was supposed to give it to me,” I say more to myself than Zander, but he responds.

“Yes. Why? Was he not going to?”

I laugh slightly. “He was joking about not giving it to me. I’m glad he wasn’t serious, or I’d never get through this thing,” I say, holding up the spell book.

Zander smiles and pushes on the newel post, which opens the door so we can leave. When we’re back on the second floor, he enters the room across from mine and locks the door. I do the same, then sit at the desk with both the spell book and tome and start working on my lessons.

EIGHT

My neck hurts when I try to move it. I find myself face-down in the spell book, which means I must’ve fallen asleep while studying. I rub my aching muscles, get up from the chair, and put on fresh clothes. I have no idea what time it is, but when I open my door sunlight fills the hallway. I take my books and head down to the kitchen. Knox is eating breakfast when I enter.

“What time is it? I thought you were leaving early,” I remark while pouring myself some cereal.

“It’s just after sunrise and I’m leaving shortly,” Knox responds, smiling.

I take the seat across the table from him and begin to eat. I glance up at him periodically, trying to determine how he was able to keep his memories. Zander’s reason is sound, but Knox doesn’t share the same title as he does, so what would permit a hunter to keep his memories of the past? As he cleans his dishes, I decide to ask.

“So, you and Zander remember the past twelve cycles,” I start. “He tells me he’s permitted to because he’s a Guardian; you, on the other hand, are a hunter. What did you do to warrant such an honor?”

He laughs a little, but I can tell he’s uncomfortable. “No matter how many times I answer that question, it still makes me uneasy.”

“Why?”

He retakes his seat, folds his hands together, and leans into the table. “Because there’s no simple answer.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Michael and I weren’t even given an option, but you were.”

“It wasn’t an option, if you must know. Not everything is as clear-cut as Zander and Dean Eligius are making it out to be, Aven. You’ll have some tough choices ahead no matter what the prophecy says,” he responds, getting slightly agitated. “We can talk more about this when I get back.”

He rushes from the room, leaving a cold impression behind. I don’t feel like finishing my food, so I clean up and head to the archive. Zander is waiting for me when I reach the room.

“You don’t look too happy,” he says as I take a seat at one of the tables.

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re a rotten liar.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I probably am. I was just talking to Knox about his past… he wasn’t too thrilled with my inquiry.”

“He’s had a rough life. Staying around wasn’t his idea, but he’ll learn it’s for the best.”

Zander gathers several books from the shelves, sits down across from me, and begins to tell me about the history of the Ancients. I have a hard time following him since the stories he’s referencing in the books are all in the Ancients’ language, which I still haven’t fully grasped. After an hour, my head starts to hurt and I ask for a break. He agrees and goes to fetch us some water since it’s so dry in the archive. I go back through the pages he already covered, trying to get a better understanding of the region’s history. I struggle at first but then, as if a switch has been flipped, the words show in a way I can read them.

The world was burnt almost beyond repair. Six deities rose from its ashes to start life anew. Finalizing the exact method for recreating life started an unpleasant discussion among the five brothers and one sister, which caused many rifts between them. After finally compromising on how this would be performed, five of the six siblings agreed to the new ways of the world they were to create. One brother couldn’t accept any of the new laws or conditions, so he left the regenerated region for destinations unknown. The five remaining deities each developed their own city in the region they now called Comoros. These new cities would be central to their new religion, one based on predestination, so that all futures could already be determined without throwing the world into chaos like before. Centuries passed, but the world was not evolving as it should have. The siblings knew something had to be done in order for their new world to evolve into what they believed should be its greatest era ever.

At first, they felt that, if they left the cities, perhaps the citizens would take it upon themselves to advance the region. The Ancients hid in the Acad Fields to work on fine-tuning their spells and charms, which they knew their new world was going to need. Upon their return, however, it was discovered that one of their offspring had molded the world into his own vision. This would-be successor was cast out of the cities and forced to live in the Valley of Caille Anam, better known as the underworld. This scorching, vile place is where those who will not accept their destinies are sent. This son’s banishment meant a new course needed to be taken in order for the world to survive beyond the lifespan of the Ancients.

I have to read it again just to make sure I’m interpreting it correctly. Zander returns a few moments later with a carafe of water and two glasses. I suck down the first glass he pours, then refill it.

“Do you have any questions so far?” he asks.

“How many generations back were the Ancients?”

“It’s really not generations, but more like millennia.”

“Okay then, millennia.”

“Four. Remember, we’re on the thirteenth and final cycle of this evolution, so it took quite a bit of time to get here. The Ancients were before the evolution started if that helps.”

“No, not really.”

“Let me see if I can put this another way. They and their followers are your parents’ predecessors. So, I guess if you count it as generations, we would be the second. Does that make sense?”

“It does, a little.”

“Anything else?”

“How firm were the Ancients on predestination? It seems to be something the Sacrer religion takes very seriously.”

“Well, considering the Ancients sent those who defied or didn’t believe in their fate to the underworld, I would say they were extremely firm about it. The Sacrer religion, which the Ancients created, is based solely on predestination. This is why the Zerah Prophecy is so important. It’s the culmination of everything the Ancients have preordained our world to be. Without it we’ll be lost, doomed to burn as the previous world did. The Ancients made it a point to not let anyone choose their own fate, since it led to chaos and death the last time it was permitted. We wouldn’t be here today without it.”

“Ah,” is the only thing I can think to respond.

I’m not happy with the idea that my fate is out of my control. That’s probably why Michael and I weren’t allowed to remember anything from the other cycles… so we couldn’t intervene and make changes.

Then how are the Mitris doing it? Was one of their followers responsible for poisoning my mother and me? Have they been around during all twelve cycles? If so, how have they been able to retain memory of the previous occurrences? If not, when did they begin? Could a previous deviation have brought about their existence? Were there any deviations before? What impact did they have?

I’m going to drive myself insane if I don’t find answers to these questions.

Zander smiles, takes the book back, and continues from where he left off. “After the young man was removed from Comoros, war erupted between the deities and their people. Apparently, the man had made promises that he couldn’t possibly be able to keep, but the residents were going to hold the Ancients accountable for them. Many of the man’s followers perished in the brutal war.”

“How long does an Ancient live?” I ask.

“No one knows. A couple of the deans, like Dean Eligius, believe the Ancients are still alive. Dean Chares, on the other hand, doesn’t.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation.

“Why?”

“Little things that I’ve seen throughout the cycles. Slight adjustments that have been made, but if you weren’t paying close attention, could’ve been easily missed.”

“Wouldn’t those be deviations?”

“No. A deviation is when something has never happened before. Adjustments are only minor alterations to something that has happened before. Knox and I are the only ones who seem to have noticed them. The deans haven’t mentioned anything to us, so we’re not sure if they’ve detected these small changes.”

“Wouldn’t it be something you’d want them to know?”

“Maybe if the changes were significant, but they haven’t been. The deans’ main concerns are making sure the prophecy comes true by any means necessary. Telling them about these adjustments would be meaningless, since they never truly altered anything.”

“Have there been any adjustments so far in this cycle?”

Zander hesitates in answering, which makes me think there have been. “Your short hair. In all the other cycles your hair was long, almost completely down your back.”

My hand goes to my head and I casually run my fingers through the short strands. My hair isn’t that short. It’s just above my earlobes, but I guess if it was longer before then that is a considerable difference. One I think that at least the deans would’ve noticed.

“Why do you think that is?” I ask, placing my hand in my lap.

Sorrow fills Zander’s face and he turns a little pale. “Because of how you died the last time.”

“What?” I ask, stunned that he mentioned my previous death. I would’ve thought that type of information was never to be told to me.

“Dean Eligius is going to kill me,” he mumbles, more to himself than to me. He gets up and goes deep into the racks, finally emerging with a small, thin book. He takes the seat next to me and opens it. “This documents how you and Michael have died for every cycle, so far. I’ve been forbidden from showing this to you, but since we’re making a huge deviation by sending Knox to Delphi, what could it hurt?” He turns the pages until he comes to the last entry. As I look over his shoulder, I notice that unlike all the other books I’ve seen, this one doesn’t have any illustrations.

“This is the only entry you really need to be concerned about, since adjustments have already been made to prevent the other ways you two died.” He clears his throat and sips some water before continuing. “Michael was killed by the sword of a Ligotas.” Zander drinks more water as sweat breaks out on his forehead. “Your hair was caught in the talons of a progressed Ligotas, which allowed the others to rend your head from your body.”

I feel like I’m going to be sick. “Where did this take place?”

“Delphi,” he responds, closing the book.

My stomach churns as my nightmare of Michael rushes back into my mind. “Can we take a break? I need some fresh air.”

We get up from the table in unison. Zander hits the newel post as I ascend the stairs. I head right out to the garden, where I’m almost blinded immediately by the light from the sun. I wander around the outer path until I locate one heading into the center. The air gets warmer the more I move towards the sounds of burbling water. The path ends at a small pool, where several Koi swim about and a fountain gushes water a few feet above the surface. I sit on one of the two benches that’s near the water, close my eyes, and begin to sing my mother’s song to help me calm down.

Come find me in the valley where the ethereal waters flow

And blessings will be given in time as you grow

Sadness must come as your journey awaits

Your destiny chosen as the prophecy dictates

The past is a memory of which not to forget

For soon there could be a great deal of regret

Temptation abounds and falter you may

But peace will come on the thirteenth of days

Zerah, my love, your life will divide

As evil does its best to trick your mind

Changes to body and soul are assured

But even these tasks will need to be endured

Give in to your fate even as darkness shines

for you are the benevolent, the pure, and the divine

“Where did you learn that?” Dean Eligius asks as he emerges from the grasses that surround the pool.

I almost jump, as I hadn’t heard him approach. “My mother taught it to me.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Why?”

“That chant was lost before the first cycle began. Before your mother was even born. There’s no way she could’ve known about it,” he almost shouts as he charges at me, but he doesn’t touch me. He almost recoils when he’s close to me.

“She’s had me repeat it my whole life. She made sure I memorized it,” I reply, cowering slightly.

What did I just do?

“Come with me,” he says, gesturing for me to return to the rectory with him.

I hesitate, but follow. We go to the archive where Zander is still sitting and poring over a couple of the books he pulled earlier.

“Tell him,” Dean Eligius says with a demanding tone.

“Tell me what?” Zander asks, confusion clear on his face.

“Elena taught Aven the Sacrer Atonement Chant,” the dean answers.

Zander looks between the two of us, puzzled as to what he’s being told. “That’s not possible. It’s been lost for ages.” He picks up my tome, flips to the last page, and caresses the frayed edges where pages are obviously missing. “Could it be in the lost tome?”

“I doubt it. The Ancients had that chant removed from both books before the cycles started. They felt it gave away too much information about our upcoming evolution,” Dean Eligius answers.

“How do you know that?” I ask Dean Eligius. “If it wasn’t ever around to begin with, you have no way of knowing where my mother learned it, or if it even actually existed in the first place.”

“I came across a reference to it while studying the books of the Ancients. Dean Eligius is the one who located bits and pieces of it spread throughout their teachings,” Zander replies.

“But that still doesn’t answer how Elena knew it,” the dean says. “Let’s take a break from your studies for the remainder of the day, Aven. Zander, I’ll need you to go through every possible scenario in which Elena could’ve learned it or found it.”

I go to my room while Zander remains in the archive and Dean Eligius heads into his office. I plop down on my bed, but not before taking my journal and the black disc from my rucksack. When I put the two together, the map shows that Michael has finally entered the City of Lertis.

I wonder when we’ll see each other again. I know we will, I just wish I knew when.

I turn the disc off just as there’s a knock on my door. I tell the person to enter and Zander walks in, holding the tome and spell book, which I had left down in the archive.

“Thought you might want these,” he says as he steps into the room.

“Thanks,” I say as he puts them down on the desk. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Back in Castra you identified my tent-mates as Ligotas, and down in the archive you mentioned them again. What are they, exactly?”

Zander sits on the edge of my bed before responding. “They’re the followers of Trel, the son of the Ancient named Myro. Trel was expelled to the underworld for his crimes, but the Ligotas that escaped detainment want to continue what Trel started by turning everyone against the Sacrer. Their goal is to make the world much darker. Thankfully, with every new cycle we’ve had, they haven’t been able to make any headway.”

“And you knew those two were followers because of the previous times,” I say.

“Yes. It also helps that the Ligotas are arrogant and careless, which makes them easy to spot. They like to brag about who they belong to, and show off their markings as a way to boast. It never does them any favors but they don’t seem to care.”

“You mentioned that Michael was killed by a Ligotas and I was killed by a progressed Ligotas in the last cycle. What’s the difference?”

“One is modified, the other isn’t. Your goal in the prophecy is to make sure they don’t transform into their new evolutionary form.”

“Was the prophecy always about the Ligotas, or did it have to be changed because of Trel?”

“For the original evolution, the Ancients wanted enlightenment. They felt that if the body and soul could merge into a finer being through spells, then the world could grow further outside of Comoros. But once Trel was banished to the underworld, the Ancients had to rethink their mission. You and Michael are the ones who are to show everyone the way towards enlightenment and keep the Ligotas from evolving into a unique form. Everyone’s predestination ends once the final painting is revealed. Hopefully by then, the Ligotas will be defeated and the rest of society will be able to move on and grow.”

“Is that why the City of Parime isn’t able to advance in time?”

“In a way. All the cities were named after the Ancients, so the Ancient Parime felt that if his people only existed in one point in history, then they couldn’t be harmed by the Ligotas. The time freeze is supposed to expire once the last painting is shown. The only part of the city that isn’t affected is the temple. If you’ve noticed, the snow that falls everywhere else in the city doesn’t fall into our garden. That’s also why there isn’t any outside communication. They haven’t been developed in this time period.”

“But if the temple operates outside the normal time of the rest of the city, wouldn’t any technological advancement work in here?”

“Yes and no. Implementing the type of system used in Delphi would be a great undertaking that the temple just can’t support on its own. Your sphere is the only piece of technology that’s small enough to get inside.”

“When Dean Chares gave us the journal and disc, he said it was old technology. How can that be?”

“Not old, Ancient. He wasn’t talking about their age, but who created them.”

“I wonder if the Ancients counted the Mitris as part of their evolution,” I say, slumping further down on the bed.

“Doubtful since I’ve never heard of them before and they’re not documented anywhere.”

Documented. Documents. Those Mitris that we encountered outside of Castra mentioned something about documents. Could they be keeping track of the cycles on their own? If so, how and why?

“Hopefully, when Knox gets to Delphi, we can find out more about them. How long will it take him to get there?”

“He should be there later tomorrow. He’s riding on horseback rather than a carriage, so he’ll travel faster. Do you think it was the Mitris who injected you and your mother?”

“I don’t know, but probably.”

I wish I had paid better attention to the young man I ran into.

“What was he supposed to have injected into you?”

“A mutation of the Mors Plague, or at least that’s what they claimed we had. Was anyone outside of Delphi ever afflicted with it?”

“No. It was mainly kept within your city and villages and used as a tool by the Ancients to assist in wiping out people’s memories. Dean Chares was in charge of how the incidents were recorded in the medical records, so as not to draw suspicion.”

“Since the last cycle, rumors have been circulating that the plague only ended because Michael and I died. Was it the dean’s idea to record it that way?”

“Yes. If they recorded your real cause of death, it would leave too many unanswered questions.”

“Was the Mors Plague even real?”

“No. At least, it didn’t used to be, but if the medical community is saying that you and your mother both had a form of it then someone had to have found a way to synthesize the disease, or something similar to it.”

“I don’t believe that either of us had it. I’m convinced it was nothing more than conjecture by Gaden Lamen and his followers. What you’re saying just confirmed that he made the whole thing up.”

Zander looks at me with a quizzical expression in his eyes. “Where have I heard that name before?”

“The Order of the Terac who were looking for the Ligotas at Castra mentioned him. They would’ve taken the girls you turned in to him.”

“Is he a member of the Order?”

I push myself back into a proper sitting position and bring my knees up to my chest. “No. He’s the leader of the Mitris, which may be taking over Delphi if Gaden has his way.”

“What do you mean by that?” Zander asks, moving closer.

“He’s got the elders in the community convinced that everything that happens in Delphi must now go through him and his people. They’re infiltrating the scientific and medical communities first. I know Dean Chares is afraid of what might be coming with Gaden rising to power. I think he feels the prophecy may be in jeopardy.”

“Great, more things to worry about.”

We both chuckle, but it’s mainly from the anxiety that has crept into the room. Zander tells me to get some rest and study what I can of the spells, then leaves. I get up, sit at my desk, and try to concentrate on the books. My mind is too distracted with everything that Zander and I discussed, so I give up on studying for the time being and go down to the kitchen to get something to eat. The rectory is too quiet with only three of us here, so I decide to go over to the temple for a little while.

Candles are burning in the sanctuary when I enter. I take a seat in one of the pews several rows back from the altar, in one of the expansions. I don’t know exactly why I came in here, I just know I wanted to get out of the rectory for a while. I doubt Zander and Dean Eligius would take it well if I left the temple altogether to explore the city. Still, I want to see what differences there are between Parime and Delphi, but I can’t do that hiding in the rectory or temple. I lean my head forward, resting it against the back of the pew in front of me while I try to figure out a way to leave without being noticed.

“I was hoping he was wrong,” a familiar voice says. “I didn’t want to believe that you would be here.”

I raise my head as Leo takes a seat in the pew in front of me. He looks sharp in his Terac uniform. His face is sad, yet his eyes are hard. He places his hand on mine as it rests on the top of the pew.

“Who told you I was here?” I ask, shaking slightly.

“Gaden Lamen,” he responds with a worried tone. “I overheard him telling my father that you were hiding in Parime. I wanted to get here before he did.”

“I thought you left for the City of Terac. Why were you still in Delphi?”

“I needed to find out what happened to you. I was hoping you had gone underground and not to another Sacrer building. They’ll kill you if they find you here.”

“The Mitris?”

“Yes. My father has joined their ranks. He’s helping Gaden track you and Michael down to drag you back to Haile to be executed.”

“For what? We didn’t do anything.” I jerk my hand away and stand.

“There have been more deaths, Aven,” Leo says, standing as well. “The new plague is getting out of control in Delphi. The Mitris have had to quarantine several dozen people. Thankfully they have space available in the empty seminaries in Otrar, but I’m not sure how much more the city can take in.”

“None of that is even real,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “It was an illusion to keep people from remembering their past.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.” I step into the aisle, but Leo blocks my path of escape. “What do you want me to do, Leo? Michael and I aren’t responsible for any of this. We aren’t making these people sick. I’m not sure what is, but it’s not us,” I say, almost hysterical.

He puts his hands on my shoulders. “I know, that’s why I’m here. I’ve come to take you someplace safe, where the Mitris can’t find you.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Zander says from across the room. He hurries over to us then places himself between Leo and me, forcing Leo to let go.

“Who the hell are you?” Leo asks, anger in his voice.

“I’m her Guardian. Aven is perfectly safe in the temple with me,” Zander answers in a slightly defiant tone.

“I doubt that,” Leo says, his mouth turning into a sneer, “considering how easily I found her. Aven,” he begins, looking around Zander to see me, “get your things. We’re leaving.”

“I said no,” Zander says, shoving Leo, knocking him backwards and almost off his feet.

Leo recovers and is in the process of removing his weapon, which is strapped on the belt around his waist, when Dean Eligius clears his throat, catching our attention.

Leo realizes it’s the wrong time to fight. “They’re coming, Aven. I’ll be here in the city until Gaden Lamen arrives, which should be in the next day or two, then you’re on your own. I suggest that if you want to live to see tomorrow, you get out of Parime today,” Leo says then leaves.

Dean Eligius turns his attention to the altar, as if he’s preparing for a service. Zander takes my hand and practically drags me from the building and into the garden. I’m not able to free myself from his grip until we’re heading up the steps to the rectory.

“What the hell was that all about?” I practically shout at him.

“Leo showing up here is a deviation, and it would cause another deviation if you left with him. I’m not letting him near you.”

“So you’re just going to let the Mitris enter Parime and possibly kidnap me? You have no idea what they may do to this city or temple if they’re already devastating Delphi.”

“We’ll leave in a few days. There are ways out of this temple that aren’t through the main doors. First, we need to hear from Knox on what is really happening in Delphi.”

“You don’t believe Leo, do you?”

“No. I don’t trust a man who can be so easily seduced and manipulated.”

“You don’t even know him, Zander. How can you say such things about him?”

Zander steps up close to my face, our noses almost touching. “I know enough.” He turns his back to me and begins to walk away, but I step in his path, stopping him from entering the rectory.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Zander rubs his face, probably trying to relieve some of the frustration that has clearly built up. He sighs, then looks me dead in the eyes. “Leo is the progressed Ligotas that gets you killed.”

NINE

“Wait a minute!” I yell as Zander heads into the rectory. “You can’t just casually say something like that to me. How does he turn into one? You have to know, since you remember everything.”

Zander stops dead in his tracks, which causes me to almost run into him. “Of course I know how it happens.”

“Then we can stop it. Leo doesn’t have to be changed if we can prevent it.”

Zander turns to face me. “We won’t stop it from happening.”

“What?” I shout.

“It’s his fate. He’s destined to become a Ligotas, and there’s not a damn thing I’m going to do to stop that from happening. And neither are you.”

Zander leaves me standing by the stairs, my mouth wide open from disbelief. I head up to my room, slam my door, and dig in the rucksack for my knife. I hurl it at the wall by my bed and it sinks almost completely down to the hilt. When I go to retrieve it, I notice a countless number of holes in the wall that have been plastered and painted over. Each is the same size as the one I just created. I rub my fingers over the indentations and get a slight feeling of déjà vu. I jerk my hand away and the sensation is gone.

If Leo coming here is a deviation, then why did I create so many other holes with the knife during previous times? What angered me in such a way to cause this reaction?

I want to ask Zander, but I’m too upset with him at the moment. I sheathe the weapon, place it on the desk next to my books, and plop down in the chair. I should be even more motivated to study the spell book and tome, but my heart just isn’t in it. A knock on my door brings me out of my stupor. I tell the person to come in. Dean Eligius enters, a large smile on his face.

“Your brother is making great progress,” he says.

The dean reaches for the journal, which still lies on the bed, and flips the pages. Image number four has come into focus. It shows Michael and an elderly gentleman kneeling in a cavern filled with human bones. Michael is holding a red disc in his hand.

“Where is that?” I ask, studying the picture.

“The Lertis catacombs. He and Dean Rae just located one of the lost discs.”

“How many discs are there?”

“There are four discs. We refer to them as lanxes. The black and green lanxes are the only ones that have two duplicates. There are only one each of the remaining two lanxes. The red one helps locate the Ligotas, while the blue one shows where the Sacrer buildings are located. The green lanx, which Zander and Michael’s Guardian have, lets you visit the past.”

“What will Michael do with the red one?”

“He’ll be able to track the Ligotas as they infiltrate Comoros. It will help him, and eventually you, destroy them.”

“Whose bones are those? The Sacrer burn their dead.”

“These are the remains of those who refused to follow their fate, but didn’t want to go to the underworld.”

“How did they die?”

“It’s best if that’s not discussed,” the dean says as he hands me the journal.

“Is the blue lanx lost, too?” I ask as he heads for the door.

“Yes. No one has been able to locate it since the Ancients erected the Sacrer buildings. The story is that it was lost in the kerk, maybe even poured into the cement that makes up the floor of the archive in order to keep the Ligotas from getting a hold of it. If they did, they would know where all our buildings are located as well as the means in which to enter them – other than through the front door, I mean.”

The dean smiles awkwardly then leaves. I add the journal to the pile on the desk, change clothes, and get under the covers. It’s been a very long day and all I want to do right now is sleep, but my mind keeps going back to the blue lanx. I was able to find it, but it was well hidden under the book racks. I’m surprised no one bothered to look there before. Maybe they weren’t allowed to search for it, but rather that was left up to Michael and me. Dean Eligius seems resigned to the idea that the blue one is lost for good, so I’m going to let him keep thinking that for the moment.

I know there’s someone in the room before I even open my eyes. I reach for the light on the nightstand, turn it on, and see Zander sitting on the desk chair. He looks worn out, disheveled, and worried.

“I really need to lock my door,” I say, more to myself than to him.

“It wouldn’t do you any good. I know how to unlock it.”

I shake my head in annoyance. “What is it?” I ask as I push myself into a sitting position.

“I saw in the sanctuary that Michael has managed to recover the red lanx.”

“Yeah, so?”

“The image shows Dean Rae helping him find it. That’s not how it’s supposed to happen.”

“Then how’s it supposed to happen?” I ask as my eyes fully focus on him and the alarm in his voice.

“Michael and his Guardian are the ones who needed to find the disc, not Dean Rae. The painting should depict her instead of him.”

“Are you sure? The pictures were never in focus until now, so you really wouldn’t know if his Guardian was to be depicted or not.”

“I just know, Aven, all right?!” Zander shouts, getting up from the chair so violently he almost knocks it over. “I know what those paintings are supposed to look like. All Guardians do since we’re the ones who helped create them.”

“What? How is that possible?”

“Predestination, remember? The Guardians are the only ones who know exactly what each image should look like. Not even the Ancients know, which is probably why Dean Eligius didn’t notice the discrepancy.”

“I thought the Ancients were the ones who created the whole prophecy thing.”

“We each had our part. The Ancients delegated the documenting to the Guardians. They wanted a foolproof way of making sure everything transpired as it was supposed to, without interference.”

“But they make adjustments.”

“Yes, but not to the actual documentation such as the paintings or any of the books. They can only change the weather, appearances, and region laws. They’re not able to alter anything that would have a direct impact on the outcome of the prophecy.”

So, could that be why the winter keeps coming earlier and earlier in Delphi? But why?

“What region law was changed?”

“The one that doesn’t allow weapons into Castra. This was enacted after the first cycle because of how you died.”

Great.

“Dean Eligius told me there’s a lanx missing. One that could locate the Sacrer buildings,” I say as Zander begins to calm down.

“Yes, and I know you have it.”

“How’s that possible? Dean Eligius doesn’t even know.”

“That was done on purpose. The Guardians wanted everyone to think the blue lanx was lost so the Ligotas wouldn’t go looking for it, since it would lead them straight to us. The discs weren’t meant to be located until the last cycle anyway, so you and Michael finding them is appropriate. I just wish I knew what happened to Michael’s Guardian.”

“Is there a way to find out?”

“I’m not sure. Without her, though, it leaves him more susceptible to Ligotas influence. So him having that disc is now a really dangerous development.”

“Why? It’ll make finding them easier.”

“True, but it will also let him get deep into their underworld, from which there is little chance of escape. Without his Guardian, he doesn’t know that, and could be tempted to turn against you if given the chance.”

“They’re that persuasive?”

“That’s actually a question to ask Knox. He’s had more experience with them than I have.”

“Are you going to tell Dean Eligius about what’s happened?”

“I should, but I’m not sure how much good it will do. It’s already done, so there isn’t anything about it we can change.”

“He should at least be told.”

Zander nods in agreement.

I get up from my bed and the two of us go to the dean’s office, but he’s not there. He’s not in the kitchen, archive, garden, or sanctuary, either. Zander leads me up to the top floor of the rectory – the only place left. Dean Eligius is standing in front of one of the mirrors that line the walls of the expansive room. He doesn’t turn when we enter but remains in his spot, his hands folded behind his back.

“There was a change, wasn’t there?” the dean asks before Zander opens his mouth.

“Yes, there was. How did you know?” Zander replies.

“What was it?”

“Dean Rae wasn’t supposed to be with Michael when he discovered the red disc. His Guardian should’ve been with him.”

“Then we need to find out what happened to her,” Dean Eligius says, finally turning to face us.

“You still didn’t answer Zander’s question. How did you know there was a change?” I ask.

“I looked closer at the painting. The dean’s image appears a little distorted and out of place, which made me wonder if something had happened.”

“So, would this be considered a deviation?” I ask.

“No, this would be a complete shift from what should’ve occurred. If the paintings can be altered so easily, this makes the prophecy very vulnerable to collapse,” Dean Eligius replies.

“Only a Guardian could’ve made that change,” Zander says. “We need to know where they are and find out who did it.”

“I wish it was that simple,” the dean says as he begins to pace the room. “The only way to know where all the Guardians are is to locate the watchtower. Prime Jarron keeps moving it every few days to prevent detection.”

I give Zander a quizzical look.

“He’s in charge of the Guardians, and is the only one who can help us, if we can find him.”

“Zander,” Dean Eligius begins as he stops pacing, “why don’t you go and get prepared for the journey? Aven will stay up here with me while you get ready.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes. Since the Mitris know she’s here, it would be safer for Aven to be away from Parime. She can continue her studies while on the road. Right now, I’ll show her the various symbols she’ll come across so you can focus on the spells and the remainder of the Sacrer history. The two of you can leave once we hear from Knox.”

“I’ll pack our things and be back momentarily,” Zander says then leaves.

Dean Eligius gestures for me to follow him to the far side of the room. He stops in front of one of the many mirrors and presses against the side of it, and a display screen appears. Four distinct images appear. I instantly recognize them, so I’m not too sure what additional information the dean can tell me about them.

“These are the four symbols of Comoros,” the dean begins, tapping one of the images to enlarge it. “This, as you know, is the Zerah symbol: a triple knot surrounded by wings. You’ll see this on anything related to the prophecy, such as the paintings and documents. It’s very well-hidden, so you have to look hard in order to find it.” He taps the mirror again, minimizing the Zerah symbol and enlarging another one. “This is the symbol for the Sacrer Guardians. The elaborate knot with the tip of a sword showing at the bottom is stamped on the back of both hands for all Guardians.”

“Is that why Zander wears the gloves? To conceal his?”

“Exactly. We don’t want the Ligotas to know who’s a Guardian because then they will mark the Guardian for death. So the Guardians keep the symbols covered.”

I wonder if that’s what happened to Michael’s Guardian. Perhaps she wasn’t as careful as she was supposed to be and the Ligotas killed her to get to Michael.

The dean touches the mirror again, switching the images. “This, as you know, is the Sacrer symbol. It will be on anything that has to do with our religion, but its main purpose is to show places of refuge. This is etched into the keystone of the kerk, this temple, the catacombs in Lertis, the shrine in Reinga, and the oratory in Myro. It will also appear on some of the Ancients’ sacred sites. These aren’t recorded on the map you and Michael have, since they’re too holy to allow just anyone to find them.”

“But what if someone does locate one of these sites? What happens?” I ask as I think about the symbol on the map from the blue disc where there were no established structures or cities.

“They will be shown how to obtain the power of the gods. The Ancients themselves will bestow upon this person all knowledge of the universe and everything that is to come. They will know centuries’ worth of history before it actually happens.”

No wonder the blue disc was hidden. If the Ligotas got their hands on that kind of power, they would be able to control the entire world and change everything to fit their dark designs.

The dean taps the mirror again, changing the image. “And finally, here is the Ligotas symbol, which consists of snakes interwoven into knots. This is branded on the inside of the right wrist of all their followers. It also marks the entrance to the Valley of Caille Anam, the underworld. This is the symbol you want to be on the lookout for when you travel with Zander.”

“Could this be in other places, not just Caille Anam?”

“It’s possible, but unlikely.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“The Sacrer Guardians are roaming Comoros to isolate those who’ve managed to escape from the underworld, and terminate them.”

“But the prophecy is about Michael and me defeating them. If the Guardians are handling that, what do you need us for?”

“You’re meant to stop their evolution. The Guardians can’t monitor all of them, and they’re set to evolve the same time we do. The prophecy is designed to halt them in their current status, so they die out eventually while we survive.” Dean Eligius smiles, but his eyes darken at the same time.

Zander opens the door before I can ask more questions. He has my bags on one shoulder, and his on the other. As I go to take them, I hear a chime from my rucksack. I open it and remove the communication sphere, which is glowing a soft blue. I hit the button on the bottom of it, then place it on the floor in front of one of the mirrors. Dean Chares appears and he doesn’t look happy.

“Eligius,” Dean Chares begins in a stern voice, “what is the meaning of this? Why did you send this young man to Delphi?”

“Calm down, Chares, I have my reasons,” Dean Eligius responds coolly. “Has Knox made you aware of the deviations that have happened since Aven left Delphi?”

“Yes, I have,” Knox says, angling his head so we can see him.

“Have there been more?” Dean Chares asks.

Dean Eligius mentions the atonement chant, Leo’s visit, and the alteration to the fourth painting. “Because of the seriousness of what’s happening, I’ve decided Zander will be taking Aven out of Parime. If what Leo said is true about the Mitris then she needs to be as far from any Sacrer city as possible.”

“I agree,” Dean Chares says quickly. “Gaden Lamen has already left Delphi and is heading to Parime. He should be there by tomorrow morning, if not tonight.”

“Do you know what the Mitris want with Aven?” Zander asks.

“I can only speculate, but I’m sure it has everything to do with the prophecy,” Dean Chares replies.

“Where did these people come from?” Dean Eligius asks.

“I’ve been trying to do some digging in Otrar, but I’ve been barred from the village under Gaden’s orders. His followers have infiltrated the Order of Terac, the village of Tanis, and soon they’ll have the village of Castellum.”

“Leaving Haile for last,” I add.

“The elders of Haile are doing everything they can to prevent them from entering the village, but it won’t be long before they’re either removed from office or killed. The elders from Tanis disappeared two nights ago. Their bodies were just discovered this morning, but by then Gaden already had his people in their place.”

“Have Knox try to gain access to Otrar. If he can infiltrate the Mitris, even better,” Dean Eligius says.

“I don’t like that idea,” Zander interjects. “If they’re killing others for power, what makes you think they’ll allow an outsider in? They’ll know he’s not originally from the area. It’s too dangerous.”

“We need someone in there while you and Aven look for the watchtower. Michael is safe for the moment, so he can continue on with what needs to be done with the prophecy,” Dean Eligius responds.

“I’ll contact Rae and let him know what’s going on,” Dean Chares says. “If he can keep Michael there until we can locate his Guardian that would be greatly beneficial.”

“What happened to the two Ligotas from Castra? The Order was to take them to Gaden Lamen,” I say, trying to join the conversation.

“Ah, yes, those two young ladies,” Dean Chares begins. “From the rumors going around the city, they’re to become followers of the Mitris.”

“Why?” Zander wonders.

“I wish I knew, but I’m sure it has everything to do with the prophecy,” Dean Chares responds.

“If they’re taking Ligotas, then that’s how I get in,” Knox says.

“What do you mean?” I ask nervously, afraid of the answer he’ll give.

He pulls up the sleeve covering his right wrist. Branded into his skin are snakes tied into knots. “This will be my part for the prophecy. I’ll get it back on track by infiltrating the Mitris and having the Ligotas turn against them. Gaden Lamen has no idea what he’s getting himself into, so I’m going to use it to our advantage.”

“How will we communicate with you?” Zander asks. “We can’t leave you in there alone. What if your plan doesn’t work? We need to be able to get you out.”

“I’ll make sure he has a sphere, Zander,” Dean Chares responds. “As for you, Eligius, how do we maintain contact with you, since I’m assuming Zander and Aven will be taking the sphere?”

“You won’t be able to communicate with me,” the dean replies. “Zander will put the temple on lockdown before they leave. No one will be able to get in or out. I’ll be able to monitor the progress with the paintings, but nothing else.”

“What if the temple is attacked? How would you get out?” I ask.

Dean Eligius turns to me and places his hand on my shoulder. “I won’t, Aven. My death is part of the prophecy and I won’t alter that.”

“It should be nearly nightfall now, so we need to get on the road,” Zander says to stop me from asking more questions. “Dean Chares, we’ll contact you once we’ve located the watchtower. If anything should happen before then, please send us a message on the sphere. I would prefer not to have any direct contact with you until I can ensure Aven is safe.”

“Agreed. Good luck to you all.”

The sphere goes dark, so I pick it up and place it back in my rucksack. The three of us head down to the archive and spend almost a half-hour determining which books Zander and I should take. I find at least five that I want to bring along, but the dean has me pick only one of them. After careful deliberation, I choose an anthology that consists of small stories and pieces of non-Sacrer history. Zander selects a couple of theologian books with the help of the dean. We leave the Finity Book since it’s too heavy to carry, and more importantly, because it can’t leave the archive. I’m not sure if that’s just something the dean told Zander in order to keep it down here, or if something would happen if the book actually left the room.

Dean Eligius and I retreat to the temple while Zander goes to a livery a block over to get our horses. I’ve never ridden horseback before, so this should be interesting. Zander turns the corner, my horse’s reins in his hand. I keep my rucksack around my shoulders and secure my duffle behind the saddle. Zander helps me mount the beast, which takes me several times to master.

“Good luck, you two. I look forward to seeing both of you after the evolution,” Dean Eligius says, waving to us from the top step.

The dean retreats into the temple, leaving the two of us alone in the waning light. Zander closes his eyes and waves his hand. A light breeze passes by us, and when I turn my head my mouth drops open at what I see. The temple is in ruins. Broken windows, demolished walls, and vines growing over decayed brick.

“What kind of protection charm is this?” I ask as we turn the horses around.

“It’s not a protection charm, Aven. If you noticed, no one from Parime ever entered the temple. Only those who came from outside the city were able to get inside. The building was under a restoration charm. This is the temple’s true state. It was destroyed ages ago in the war caused by Trel’s followers. Dean Eligius was killed when the temple burned.”

“How is that possible?”

“The restoration charm works on anything that is in the temple, including people. Dean Eligius wasn’t aware of the charm, so it didn’t alter his perspective on things. To him, he was still alive and following the course the Ancients laid out for him.” Zander looks at the ground, then back at me. “I put the charm on right before the first cycle began, so everything would transpire as it was meant to.”

“And the other deans? Do they know?”

“Yes, but all were sworn never to reveal it to Dean Eligius. They needed to keep the prophecy alive in the man’s eyes, otherwise who knows what he may have done to change things. He wasn’t a very nice or trustworthy man.”

We should be leaving, but both of us are too entranced by the ruins to move. I let a little silence settle between us before finally speaking.

“So when the Mitris arrive, what will they see?”

“The temple as it is now.”

“What about the books we took? Won’t they be in the same shape as the temple?”

“No, because I didn’t remove the restoration charm from them. They’ll be okay.”

We take one last look at the temple, but it becomes difficult to see anything with the sun having set. We head around the north side of the temple and I notice that the garden wall has been obliterated, and the lovely grasses and flowers are overgrown with weeds.

It takes us a little over twenty minutes to reach the boundary of Parime. Once we hit the open land, we pick up our pace and put as much distance between us and the city as possible.

TEN

I’m not sure how Zander can see anything in the dark. I make sure to stick close to him so I don’t get lost. It feels like hours pass before we finally stop. My legs ache as I try to get down from the horse. It takes all my will power not to fall on my ass when my feet touch the hard ground. We’ve stopped in a small grove filled with olive trees. Zander has me set up the tent, which was strapped to the back of his horse, while he casts a concealment charm around us. He walks several meters away from the site before starting. I’m curious as to why he’s giving us such a wide range, but when I ask he ignores me.

I focus back to the tent and almost strangle myself a couple of times with the ropes used to anchor the sides into their stakes. When I finally have it assembled it looks like it only holds one person, but I’m sure it’s a two-man tent. Zander returns a few minutes later with his arms loaded down with firewood. He gets a small fire going while I place our belongings in the tent. I ask him if we should tie up the horses, but he says no because the concealment charm will keep them inside the camp. I sit on the ground next to him and try to warm myself.

“We’ll stay here for the night, possibly longer,” he says, handing me a pouch of dried meat he took out of one of his packs. “I need to start training you on those spells starting at first light. Who knows how long we have now.”

“What was the timeframe the other twelve times?”

“We had months to work on everything, but then there weren’t any Mitris those times.” He heaves a deep sigh. “I wish I knew where they came from and how they know so much about the prophecy.”

“Hopefully Knox can get us more information,” I add, but my stomach tightens when I say it. I let silence fall for a few minutes before asking the question that has been bugging me since we left Parime. “Why does Knox have the marking of a Ligotas?”

Zander takes a deep breath, clearly trying to find the proper words to use. “Knox was a devoted follower of Trel. When the Ligotas evolution was decided, as in what they were to become next, Knox turned Trel into the Ancients since the idea of what they were to evolve into sickened him. Knox’s punishment was to be cast out into the underworld with all the other Ligotas since he had betrayed the Ancients like the others. They didn’t care that he had stopped Trel because the damage of his reckless behavior had already taken place. However, Knox knew if he were to be sent to the underworld he’d never be able to come back to Comoros in any form. He entered into an agreement with the Ancients that if they spared his life, he would do everything in his power to make sure the prophecy came true and the Ligotas destroyed once and for all. They accepted his offer, but only on one condition. Knox had to continue to live with the memories of his past and the lives he took for Trel. He was never to forget his original betrayal and the damage it did to our region.”

I let the information sink in and become both sickened and saddened by it. What kind of life did Knox have before, that he was willing to follow Trel? I wonder what promises Trel made to his followers that led to the war between the Ancients and everyone else. What would make someone turn against their own? I don’t know if Zander has the answers to these questions, so I’ll need to see if I can get them from Knox when we hear from him next.

My curiosity piqued, I ask Zander more about the Ligotas. “How does one become a Ligotas?”

“You only want to know so you can warn Leo about it.”

“No,” I say, getting defensive. “If we’re to defeat these things, it helps to know how they’re created. I’m assuming it’s more than just a simple tattoo on the wrist.”

He narrows his eyes, probably trying to determine if I’m telling the truth or not. “They have to sacrifice their soul by killing a loved one. There’s a specific weapon used for this ritual, called a sica. It’s a short sword with a curved blade. Rumor has it that the weapon was Trel’s, so by using it you’re pledging your loyalty to him for all eternity.”

“Is that how Knox became a Ligotas?”

“Unfortunately. Using the weapon, he slaughtered his brother in front of Trel and the rest of his followers. That’s one of the memories he’s forced to remember on a daily basis.”

I no longer envy Knox retaining his memories. I can’t possibly understand what he’s going through with those reminders swimming around in his head.

“How does Leo become a progressed Ligotas?”

Zander rubs his face before finally answering. “I don’t know. We’ve never been able to witness a Ligotas actually changing. We’ve only seen them afterwards.”

“What does a progressed Ligotas look like?”

Zander gets up, enters the tent, and emerges a few moments later with the anthology book I took from the temple. He flips almost to the end of the book, and stops when he reaches a full-page image.

The man in the photo is tall, well over six feet. His hair dusts the collar of his button-down shirt. His skin is ashen, but he doesn’t look ill. He’s very muscular, yet slim at the same time. His eyes are solid black, and his teeth look sharper than normal.

“This is what a progressed Ligotas looks like in human form. They have the ability to change from this form to their true one when they feel like it.”

He turns the page and my nightmare about Michael slams back into my head. The general form of the Ligotas is still the same, human-like, but it’s the dragon-style wings jutting out of his back and the talons on his feet that startle me. The wings are long, bony, covered in a leathery skin, and are dark-green in color. The toes have become individual talons like a bird. They’re long, sharp, and deadly-looking.

Zander points to the page next to it, which has a brief description of the properties of a progressed Ligotas.

The evolution of the Ligotas will be most violent. Anyone who has chosen this path of evolution will have a life consumed by pain, anger, lust, and torment that can only be satiated with killing. The Ligotas will not only change physically, but they will also have enhanced abilities like none have ever seen before. They will have heightened hearing, eyesight, strength, and they will be quick to heal. The only proven way to kill a Ligotas is to sever the head from the body.

I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat as Zander closes the book.

“Leo chooses to turn into this thing?” I ask, still trying to comprehend it.

“Yes. This is why you need to stay as far from him as possible.” Zander stands then hands me the book. “It’s late and we need to get as much rest as possible since we’re going to have a long day tomorrow.”

He douses the flames and we head into the tent for the night.

I get very little sleep. Too many nightmares try to invade my mind, and many of them gain entry. Leo is the one who torments me all night. He kills me over and over again with his talons, ripping me to shreds in the blink of an eye. I try everything possible to evade him, but he always finds me. The entire time Leo is ravaging my body, I catch Gaden Lamen standing off in the distance with a huge grin on his face. I force myself to wake up so I can get the visions to end. I’m freezing, so I crawl out of the tent and start a new fire. By the time I’m thawed out, Zander rises and gets breakfast started.

We eat in silence, which I’m thankful for since I really don’t feel like talking. Zander goes to feed the horses while I clean up. The air today is crisp, with the sun out in full force. I’m glad it’s finally stopped snowing, but who knows how long that will last. I head into the tent to add an extra layer of clothing when Zander enters behind me. He bends down, rummages through one of his packs, and emerges with a velvet pouch.

“Here, you’re going to need these,” he says, handing it to me.

I reach inside and pull out two gold bracelets. The metal is thin with intricately engraved scrolling covering the entire surface.

“What are these for?”

“They’re called Kerai Couplings, and you’ll need them in order to perform the spells,” he answers, still rummaging around in his pack.

“Do you have them?”

He stops, turns, and pushes up one of his sleeves. Buried under the layers of clothing and gloves are the bracelets, tightly adhered to his skin. “Put one on each wrist,” he says before going back to his task.

I slip them on. The moment they fall into a comfortable position they shrink to mold to my wrists, which means I probably won’t be able to remove them. They’re not overly tight, but they do pinch my skin a bit.

“Do these come off?” I ask, shaking them slightly to see if they’ll move at all.

“Only if someone cuts off your hands,” he replies as he removes a book from the mess he’s now created.

“Lovely,” I respond sarcastically.

“I put the spell book in your rucksack. Get it and meet me outside,” he says, then exits the tent.

I decide to bring the whole bag with me since I want to take a look at the journal to see where Michael is, and if Knox left a message on the sphere. After dropping down next to Zander, I remove the journal and the spell book. He turns to the first page of the tome.

“Each letter, word, or phrase has a specific rune associated with it,” he begins, slowly flipping the pages.

The tome is divided into three sections. The first quarter has individual letters and small-syllable words. The middle contains commonly used words and phrases, and the last section is dedicated to more complex arrangements. Each rune has its own distinctive number of lines, formatting, and length. There are similarities between common words, with only slight modifications to distinguish them.

I feel extremely discouraged since there’s no way I’m going to be able to memorize this entire book, let alone use it to translate the spell book.

Why did the Ancients have to make this so difficult? Something a lot simpler would allow more than just a select few to understand their world and what they want. This just adds to the confusion.

“Now, in regards to the spells and charms,” he says, reaching for the spell book sitting in my lap. “In order to cast them, you need to visualize the correct rune that goes with each. While holding the image of the rune in your head, your hands will need to draw the rune in the air, like this.” He picks up a small tree branch and moves his other hand very slowly, bending his fingers when needed. His eyes never lose focus on the branch, and within a few moments it changes into a spoon. “You just need to visualize the spell and move your hands accordingly.” He lets go of the spoon and it changes back to a branch. “Give it a try,” he says, handing me both the book and branch.

I look at the book, but have no idea what to do.

“What did you use?” I ask, clearly not understanding any of what just happened.

“I used the illusion spell, like the one I used on you back in Castra. Just picture the runes that make up the spell in your head, then add the rune that stands for spoon to it and the branch will change.”

I lay both books out in front of me, so I have the correct pages open. I grip the branch tightly in my hand, glance down at the spell book, and try to memorize the runes for the illusion spell. When I think I’ve got it, my eyes move over to the tome and I study the rune for spoon. After a few minutes, I turn my attention to the branch and attempt the transformation. The branch grows warm against my skin as it starts to shimmer, but cools off after a few seconds. I get a better grip on the branch and try again. I get closer this time, but then the spell fizzles out. It takes me nearly a half hour to get the spell to work, but by then I’m exhausted from the effort.

“Is learning this shit always this slow?” I ask, my voice dragging with every word.

“At the beginning, but once you’ve mastered a couple of them it’ll go a lot faster and it won’t take such a toll on your body. Why don’t we take a small break and then get back at it.”

Zander gets up and goes to look for more firewood while I take a drink from one of our canteens. My head hurts and my vision is blurry. I had no idea this would be so taxing. I decide not to take that long of a break and continue the exercise. The more I do it the easier it becomes. I move on from the spoon and begin transforming the branch into all kids of inanimate objects. Zander drops a pile of wood next to the fire then retakes his seat. He doesn’t say a word as I continue my progress.

We take another break several hours later. Zander has to practically rip the books away from me in order to get me to stop. I feel obsessed with it now, like I can’t breathe unless I’m doing magic. We eat a lunch consisting of dried meat and fruit, biscuits, and water.

“I was wondering,” I say, still swallowing my food, “can you only transform an inanimate object into another inanimate object, or can it be changed to a living creature?”

“You mean change the branch into a snake or something like that?”

I nod.

“Yes, you just have to envision the right rune.”

I smile widely, but I’m not sure why. My insides begin to heat up and I feel myself becoming flushed. Zander looks at me quizzically, but I can’t explain the sudden change that’s come over me. Part of me wants to laugh hysterically, while the other half is doing everything to prevent that. I have to focus my eyes on the fire so I can bring order back to my mind. The flickering red and orange soothe me to the point of almost hypnotizing me. I shake my head, take a deep breath, quickly finish my lunch, and get back to practicing.

I don’t stop until the sun has almost set. Reading the runes by firelight is straining my eyes, so it winds up giving me a headache. I put the books aside for the night, eat dinner, then Zander and I retire to the tent after extinguishing the fire. I try to close my eyes, but I’m too wired to sleep. I pull the rucksack over, remove the journal and the black lanx, slip the disc onto the page, and try to find Michael. His marker bobs up and down in Lertis, while mine shows Zander and me halfway between the cities of Parime and Terac.

Leo is probably back in Terac now.

The thought of him causes my headache to surge, so I put the black lanx away and remove the blue one. A small triple knot appears approximately thirty kilometers northeast of our camp. I tap on the image as it dances in the air, but nothing happens. I slide the map around until Parime is in the center. The triple knot hovers above the city, and when I tap on it I’m brought right to the temple. I move the map around again until Delphi is center. Again I tap the symbol over the city and the kerk comes into view. I adjust the map until the small knot is in the center, but still nothing happens when I tap it. I set the journal down in front of me then lean over and wake Zander.

“What?” he asks, his voice groggy.

“Do you know what this place is?” I ask, showing him the image.

“Did you try tapping on it?”

I glare at him. “Don’t ask me a stupid question. Of course I did.”

He sits up as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Okay, cranky. I was just checking.” He picks up the journal and examines the map.

“Could it be the watchtower?” I ask, since the silence is killing me.

“Can’t be. The watchtower isn’t considered a true Sacrer building or site, so it won’t appear on the map. I have no idea what it could be, but it’s worth checking out. We’ll head out after breakfast tomorrow.”

Zander lays his head back down and falls immediately to sleep. My mind is too stimulated to allow me to rest, so I wind up staring at the ceiling all night. When the sun rises I’m beyond exhausted, but I get the fire and breakfast started before Zander wakes. It’s overcast today so I’m hoping the snow stays away for a few more days, or at least until we can get under proper shelter. I don’t think our tent will hold up under the amount of snow that has been falling lately.

Zander is surprised to see me up so early. I flip through both the tome and spell book while eating. When he’s finished, Zander feeds the horses and then begins to take down the tent while I clean up the rest of the area. About twenty minutes later, we’re heading towards the Sacrer site. We only travel for a few minutes before the snow begins to fall. We quicken our pace, but that only takes us so far before the terrain turns rocky. Zander halts our progress to check our location. We’re heading in the right direction, so we push on. It’s not until the ground is completely covered in gray boulders that we stop again. We’re at the base of an incline, which the horses obviously can’t travel. Zander dismounts from his horse, but I stay on mine.

“What do you think?” he asks, his teeth chattering from the cold.

“I think we should turn back.”

“Turning back won’t get us anywhere.”

“Then why did you ask me?”

He grumbles something inaudible before speaking louder. “I say we forgo the Sacrer site and work on locating the watchtower.”

“How can we do that when we can barely see anything through all this snow and the horses can’t travel any further? We need shelter.”

As if someone heard me, a thin cloud of smoke rises in the distance. I don’t know what to make of it at first, and when Zander pulls out the journal to check the map he notices a similar plume emanating from the symbol.

“What the hell?” he says, clearly stunned at the sight. “This isn’t possible. These maps weren’t created to act this way.”

“Can we discuss that later? I’m freezing, and if there’s a warm fire going on at that spot I want to be there.”

“We don’t even know what or who is there. It could be the Mitris setting a trap, or the Ligotas.”

“It still means we get warm. I say let’s go for it.”

Zander grumbles again as he puts the journal away, but this time I catch what he says. “You’ve always been reckless. I’ve never understood why the Ancients chose you and Michael to lead the evolution.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap.

“Nothing. Let’s just get our gear and head up.”

He takes everything but the tent off the back of his horse. I do the same, and we begin the perilous journey up the steep hill. The large boulders make the climb a little easier since we can use them as footholds. The snow, however, is making everything slick. I wind up sliding several times, almost wrenching my ankle. Zander doesn’t even turn around when I grunt during one of my stumbles. He’s clearly agitated but I’m not sure if it’s because of me, the smoke, or both.

The ground levels off into a large shelf before rising again. We turn right and start along the ledge, the smoke looming larger the farther we go. It’s another twenty minutes or so before we come upon a lone structure, most of which is buried in the hill behind it. The only segment of the small house that’s visible is the slip of a front door and two small windows on either side. The exterior of the building is constructed out of stone and cement. The roof, what there is showing, is thatch-covered. The smoke is rising from a chimney that sticks out of the hill several feet up. A soft glow flickers behind the stained windows, preventing us from seeing inside. Zander tries the knob and the door swings open. Warmth escapes, surrounding us instantly. We cautiously enter the cottage, wary as to who might be hiding inside.

Gas lights sit atop rustic end tables, which are nestled around one long couch and two leather chairs. In the center of the small cottage is a fireplace, which opens to both the living room and kitchen at the back of the structure. I move deeper inside while Zander gently closes the door. Halfway between the kitchen and living room is a small hallway off to the right. The tiniest of bathrooms rests at the end, while to the left of that is a lone bedroom. I take a long look into both rooms before stepping back into the living room just as Zander finishes inspecting the kitchen.

“This place is old,” he says, setting his things down on the couch. “The faucet in there is operated using a hand pump, while the fridge is literally an antique icebox. There’s a wood-burning stove and an empty pantry, but plenty of firewood.”

He points to a large pile along the side wall. The logs are stacked five deep, ten high, and look to have been freshly chopped.

“The bathroom isn’t any different,” I chime in. “The tub has claw feet, a drain, but no faucet. The toilet seems to be the only thing that resembles the one I had in Haile, but the tank is sitting several feet above the floor and is about the size of a book.” I drop my things onto one of the chairs, and begin to take off my coat since it’s soaked through and getting heavier by the second.

“I wonder who lives here,” Zander remarks.

“I don’t think anyone has been here for a long time, Zander. Take another look around. There are cobwebs in every corner and dust covering most of the furniture.”

“Then who started the fire? Who chopped the wood?” he comments, his voice rising for no reason.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad to be out of the cold and snow.”

“Well, you can relax all you want, but I’m going to cast a raider alarm on the door and windows just to make sure we’re not disturbed.”

I remember reading about that spell. It needs to be placed on any point of entry such as a door or window and will emit an ear-piercing screech when the spell is broken. The only person who isn’t affected by the horrendous noise is the one who casts the spell. All others are weakened or temporarily disabled during the duration of the alarm, which can go as long as five minutes depending upon what you set it for. The downfall with this spell is that we’ll now be trapped in the cottage until Zander removes the spell. The alarm will still sound even if it’s one of us passing through a protected entrance. Thankfully, it looks like the only entry points are the two windows and front door. There isn’t a backdoor since the house is buried under the hill.

By the time Zander is done I’ve removed my boots and socks, laying them out to dry by the fireplace. I go into the bedroom, find a flannel blanket in the closet, and bring that out into the living room where I curl up under it on one of the large leather chairs.

“Comfy?” Zander asks sarcastically.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been snapping at me since we left camp.”

“I’m just frustrated,” he says, plopping down on the couch. “Everything is so fucked up and no one else seems to be as concerned about it as I am.”

“You don’t know that. Dean Chares could be working his ass off trying to find out why all of this is happening. Knox could be in Otrar with the Mitris. Dean Rae is probably helping Michael learn his spells.”

Zander suddenly turns pale as his face scrunches up, which causes creases to fill his forehead. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

“Michael can’t cast any of the spells without the Kerai Couplings. His Guardian would’ve been the one to carry them, but since she’s missing….”

“Who knows what might have happened to them,” I say, finishing his thought.

“We need to find the watchtower.”

He gets up, grabs the journal and the two lanxes from my rucksack, then sits back down. I take my blanket and sit next to him. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but he keeps switching between the two discs constantly. After thirty minutes he gives up, tossing the discs aside.

“What about the green one?” I ask as my mind tries to come up with solutions.

“I don’t have the right equipment to use it,” Zander responds, falling back against the cushions.

“If you did, would it help?”

“Possibly. In reality that was supposed to have been revealed in the fifth panel, you and me entering into the past.”

“How were we supposed to do it?”

“There’s a specially-crafted mirror in the temple that has an engraving for the lanx to be placed in. That mirror is what allows us to choose what, where, and when to visit. There isn’t another one like it.”

“Does it have to be that particular one?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, focusing his eyes on me.

“I want to show you something.”

I take his hand, drop the blanket, and head into the bedroom. I had noticed a full-length mirror earlier and it shares the wall with the hillside of the cottage. I gesture towards it when we enter, but Zander doesn’t look impressed.

“It’s a nice thought, but the mirror needs to have the triple spiral etched into its surface for the lanx to fit.”

He’s in the process of turning around when I grab his arm and pull him closer. The mirror is covered in grime and a few cobwebs.

“I saw this when I first entered the room,” I say as I rub clean a small spot on the left side of the mirror at shoulder height. “I thought it odd that the marking should be on something so common. I know the Sacrer buildings and sites have the triple spiral, but I never would’ve thought to look on actual furniture.”

When the surface is clear, it reveals that a triple spiral is deeply engraved into the mirror. I let go of Zander as his eyes open wide at the sight. He caresses the image with his thumb, as if needing to touch it to make sure it’s real.

“I can’t believe it,” he says, sounding completely stunned. “How did this wind up here?”

He quickly leaves the room and returns seconds later with the green lanx in hand. He sets the disc into the engraving, pushing it until a click is heard. The mirror shimmers to life as a light-green wave flows out from the lanx enveloping the reflective surface. Our images disappear into a fog while a small dot begins to blink alongside the lanx. Zander touches it, and an enormous file list appears where the dot was.

“Well, which one should we look at?” he asks as he moves the list up and down the side of the mirror.

“How many are there?”

“Thousands.”

“Are there specific ones you need to show me?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s start with those.”

Zander scrolls until he looks to be about halfway down the list, taps on the file number, and the mirror liquefies. He takes my hand and the two of us step inside.

ELEVEN

The pale-green mist that surrounds us is cold. I can’t see Zander, but he still has my hand. We slowly step forward and the mist changes into a thick fog. A light slowly seeps in, but the area around us still has a green tint to it.

“You won’t be able to interact with anyone or anything you see,” Zander says. “Also, no one will be able to see or hear you. This is strictly an observation tool, so we can’t alter anything we see.”

I squeeze his hand to acknowledge my understanding.

We continue to move forward, but only take a few steps before we come to a halt. The fog has significantly thinned, revealing a small room lined in stone. A pedestal-like altar sits in the center, surrounded by three rows of pews. The ceiling is at least twenty feet high with a lone chandelier dangling from a chain, which appears to be providing the only light in the cramped space. At the back of the room in the far corner is a spiral staircase.

“This is the Sacrer oratory in Myro,” Zander says as everything comes into focus, but the green tint remains. “This is the day Trel begins his rise to power.”

He points to a lone figure crouched over part of the altar. The man is tall and slender, with wavy dark hair that brushes the tops of his shoulders. His clothing is ragged, yet he doesn’t appear to be ill-kempt. I can’t see his face since he has it bent down. I let go of Zander’s hand and make my way towards Trel. He looks frozen in time, but his chest rises and falls with every breath taken. His presence makes the room feel heavy and crowded. Chills travel up my spine the closer I get, but I can’t stop moving. I’m transfixed by knowing what this man looks like. I’m forced to arch my neck so my face is under his. He flinches slightly, almost as if he can sense I’m there. His features are deep and striking. I can’t tell the color of his eyes since he has them tightly shut. I right myself and change my focus to the item on the altar that has Trel’s attention. It’s the tome and he has it turned to a page that blurs slightly when I focus on it. I squint my eyes for a better look, but the sound of a door banging open distracts me. I glance up at the intruder at the same time Trel does.

The man who has disturbed us is elderly, tall, and wears Sacrer robes. He lets the heavy wooden door close behind him, but doesn’t progress any further into the oratory. Zander has stepped off to the side, probably to stay out of the man’s way.

“You sent for me, Trel?” the man asks, clasping his hands in front of him.

“I want to know what this is,” Trel answers, gesturing to the book.

The man steps forward, but still maintains a distance from us.

“It appears to be a Sacrer tome,” the man replies. “Where did you find it?”

“Hidden in my father’s house, along with this.” Trel pulls a simple silver chain out from under his shirt. Attached to it is an amulet with intricately-carved runes covering every inch of its metallic surface.

The old man tries his best to hide the shock at seeing the object, but he fails miserably. Trel smiles as he stands taller, his body relaxing. I take a step back from the altar when I feel an electrical charge begin to swirl around it.

“Give those to me, Trel,” the man says, stepping closer and putting his hand out as if to receive the items.

“First, you will tell me what this is,” Trel says, swinging the amulet back and forth.

“It’s just a piece of old jewelry. Nothing special.”

Trel’s eyes narrow at the man as his body goes rigid. “Don’t lie to me, priest. I know you’re surprised at seeing it, so obviously it’s something worth knowing about.”

“You mistake my reaction,” the priest says as he takes another step closer to the altar.

“I don’t believe I did.” Trel lets go of the chain, but continues to stare intently at the priest. “You seemed utterly horrified when I first showed it to you. Now, why would that be?” Trel steps around the altar and closes the gap between himself and the priest. “This little item wouldn’t have anything to do with the Ancients, now, would it?”

“If you mean your father, yes, it’s his.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. This is to go with their plan for our evolution, isn’t it? Their sordid Sacrer religion and ideology that says we’re to become higher beings. Only it’s not we who get that distinction, is it? Our lives have already been determined, haven’t they? It says so right in that book.” Trel points to the tome on the altar.

“Myro was foolish to hold onto those. I begged him to let me secure them until the time was right,” the priest responds, anger seeping into his voice.

“So,” Trel begins, moving until he’s almost bumping into the elderly man, “what fate has my father sorted out for me?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“I bet I can make you.” Trel’s face darkens as his eyes grow wide.

The priest pales slightly, but holds his ground. “Do what you must, Trel, but I will never betray the Ancients.”

The amulet begins to glow a soft blue as Trel grabs the priest’s wrist. The man instantly freezes in place, a look of shock in his eyes. Trel yanks the man’s head back so that he’s staring up into Trel’s eyes.

“Didn’t know I could do that, did you?” Trel says, tauntingly.

“No,” the priest mumbles. The old man is fighting whatever spell Trel has him under and it’s causing the man to drool. “Let… me… go,” he stammers as his breathing begins to quicken.

“In a moment, perhaps.” Trel is clearly enjoying this moment, as he smiles widely. “Now, what plans has my father made for me?”

The priest’s body spasms as he fights to not answer the question. “Your generation is to die, painfully, so those below you can rise and begin the transformation into our new lives.” He tries to take a deep breath, but his lungs fail him. “You’re to show the power of sacrifice to the next generation. Your deaths will mean their beginning, and our salvation from the underworld.”

“And how are we to die?”

“War. The Ligotas are already rising from the underworld. That’s why the Ancients have gone into hiding. They fear these creatures since they survived the annihilation of humanity. The Ligotas were the reason the world was turned to ashes. When the Ancients rose they believed the Ligotas had all been destroyed, but over the last several months they’ve been spotted in the Valley of Caille Anam. No one is sure how they’ve come to be once again, but you’re to fight them back into the underworld and extinguish them from existence. This will result in the death of your generation, but will allow those already behind you to move forward.”

“You mean the children who currently run about the cities are to grow and live while the rest of us die? Why should they get the opportunity to enhance themselves and not us?”

“They were always destined to, regardless of the Ligotas returning. The Ancients had been pondering for years how to move the evolution along. They knew it had to be done with a specific point in our generational time, one past your lifespan. The Ligotas have given them the opportunity and method to make this happen.”

Trel’s face hardens as his grip tightens.

“Where did you learn this spell?” the priest manages to squeak out, his face twisted in severe pain.

Trel grips the priest harder, which causes him so much pain he collapses to his knees. “I’ve learned a lot of things while my father has been absent, hiding like the coward I always knew him to be.” Trel begins to drag the priest towards the back section of the room, where the staircase is. “Now, old man, you will tell me everything I want to know.”

The priest tries to fight Trel off, but he’s too weak and still under Trel’s control. The priest cries out in pain as he’s pulled up the metal stairs.

Zander is suddenly next to me. He takes my hand and escorts me back the way we came. Once we’re through the mirror, I let go of his hand and wander into the living room. I can understand Trel’s hatred for what his life was to become. To find out your reason for existing is so you can die is utter nonsense. I don’t care if it is to save and evolve humanity; you should be able to live how you want and die how you want. I hate that the only reason I was born was to fulfill the Ancients’ prophecy. If Trel had never betrayed his father, would I even exist? How can any of this be called a life?

“You okay?” Zander asks as he sits next to me on the couch.

“I’m just trying to process it all,” I say, gripping the blanket as I tuck it under my chin. I think back through everything I just experienced. I have several questions that I want to ask, but one sticks out more than the others. “I thought you told me that the Ligotas were Trel’s followers, but according to the priest they’re something else entirely.”

“What I said is true – the Ligotas are the followers of Trel. However, that didn’t happen until later. Trel uses the Ligotas as a means to take control of Comoros, which we’ll see later. It’s not until the moment of his expulsion to the underworld by the hands of his father that Trel finds out what a true Ligotas looks like.”

“The picture in the anthology,” I state more than ask.

“Yes, only, in the book it’s labeled as a Progressed Ligotas. The ones Trel encounters roaming Comoros have kept their true forms hidden, but their lust and desire for power is what tips the Ancients and priests off to their return. When the anthology was written, which is after Trel’s time, the Ancients wanted to be able to distinguish between Trel’s followers and those who came directly from the underworld, so the word progressed was added to the description for those from the underworld.”

“What exactly did Trel tell people to get them to follow him?”

“We’ll enter that piece of history either later tonight or early tomorrow.”

I let a few moments of silence settle before asking my next question. “What was the pendant Trel wore? It was covered in runes.”

“It’s called a Cosanta Amulet. It allows the wearer to perform magic with a simple thought. You don’t need to remember any complex spells in order to get it to work. It also protects the wearer from any counter-magic being cast upon them.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re wearing it and someone casts any type of spell or charm at you, it won’t work. The amulet acts as a shield, while still allowing the wearer to cast their own spells.”

“Did the amulet go with him into the underworld?”

Zander laughs slightly. “No, otherwise he’d be able to get out. The truth is, no one knows what happened to it. When he encounters his father at the very end he no longer has the necklace, so it’s only speculation as to where it could’ve gone.”

“And that would be where?”

“The Ancients told the Guardians that they believe the amulet was stolen by Trel’s lover. No one has ever been able to determine who that was, so there isn’t any real way to narrow down the search for it.”

Huh, I wonder why she stole it and where it could be now; that is, if it still exists.

“What was the spell Trel used on the priest?”

“It’s a verity spell. You have to grip a person’s wrist in order for it to work. It forces the person to tell the truth.”

Silence settles between us again, but only for a few seconds. “That book Trel had… I thought the tomes were created after Trel’s expulsion?”

“They were actually created during his childhood. The books weren’t finished when he got a hold of one of them. That didn’t occur until well after he was sent to the underworld.”

We sit in silence again as I try to remember everything I saw in the oratory and what Zander has been telling me since he saved me in Castra. My stomach rumbles, so I go into the kitchen and automatically open the door for the pantry.

“I thought you said this was empty!” I call out to Zander.

He enters the room to see what I’m talking about, and nearly stumbles over his feet when he notices the shelves of the pantry completely full. “How the hell?”

“I sincerely doubt Prime Jarron did this while we were away,” I say, pulling out a box of rice. “Are you sure the Ancients aren’t alive?”

“No, I’m not,” he answers, but he doesn’t sound convincing.

He gathers a can of vegetables and chicken, while I get the rice cooking. We eat our meal quietly, clean up our mess, and I head off to the bedroom while Zander prepares the couch for himself. I’m not sure how I feel sleeping in this room now that I know what the mirror can do, but I still get ready for bed and slide under the covers. Even though the gaslight is burning at its bare minimum, I still feel like the room is too bright. I try not to look at the mirror while I adjust my sleeping position, but my eyes are automatically drawn to it. My imagination goes into overdrive and I fear Trel will step out from the glass and kill me. I give up after only a couple of minutes, grab a blanket and pillow, and then head back into the living room. Zander is sound asleep in the poorly-lit room. The logs in the fireplace are only glowing ash now. I plop myself into one of the chairs and try to get some sleep.

My back and neck are stiff when I wake. Zander gives me a quizzical look when he realizes I spent the night in the chair. I tell him that the mirror was bothering me, though I don’t explain in what way. He doesn’t push for more information, but instead moves the chairs and coffee table against the far wall to make room for my mattress.

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to stay in that room,” he says, dropping the mattress next to the couch. “The next couple of timelines we have to see will definitely unsettle you.”

We eat a small breakfast before venturing back into Trel’s life.

Once again we’re standing in the oratory, but this time we’re next to the staircase. The small room feels even tinier due to the number of people crammed into it. Every seat is taken, and people are standing at least two deep behind the pews. Trel paces around the altar. He appears deep in thought while everyone else looks anxious.

“What is this, Trel?” a young man calls out from the front row. “You call us in here and you haven’t said one word in nearly ten minutes. We’ve got better things to do than watch you pace.”

“I’m formulating my words,” Trel mumbles angrily.

“Well, maybe you should’ve done that before dragging us in here,” the young man says.

Trel balls up his hands and I catch the slightest glow from under his shirt, but neither lasts long. He calms himself down, takes a deep breath, and begins to stare at each face around the room.

“Who here knows why we exist?” Trel begins, but it’s obvious he’s not expecting anyone to answer. “I do, and it’s not what you may think.” He swaggers around the room as if he has everyone’s undivided attention, though mostly they’re staring at the ceiling. “The Ancients have been lying to us for years. They promised us salvation and the opportunity to evolve into higher beings, but that’s not what they’ve planned. We’re all to be martyred, so the youngest among us can move ahead. In essence, they plan on killing us.”

Someone lets a giggle slip out, which leads to a round of laughter.

“You can’t be serious,” the young man from before responds. “There’s no way the Ancients would’ve gone to all this trouble in reestablishing humanity just to bring it down. You’ve lost your mind, Trel.”

“I have proof,” he replies, snapping his fingers.

Two young men drag the priest out from behind the staircase. The man is badly bruised, battered, and bleeding. The two young men drop him at Trel’s feet and retreat a few steps into the crowd. Necks crane from the back rows in order to get a better view of the spectacle. Trel grips the priest’s wrist, which causes the man to wince. The amulet tucked under Trel’s shirt begins to glow.

“Tell them what you told me,” Trel demands, tugging on the poor man’s arm.

“The Ancients have designed an evolutionary change that will begin with your deaths,” the priest says weakly. “An army of demons walks among you, which must be extinguished before life can move forward. Your sole purpose has always been to rid Comoros of these creatures once and for all. We cannot move on until they all die, which means you must die.”

Gasps echo through the chamber, followed by a few angry shouts.

“It must be true,” a large man says, standing along the back wall. “The priest is charged with guiding us. If he says our only reason for being is to die, then Trel is telling the truth.”

“I don’t want to die!” a young woman cries.

“What should we do?” another woman shouts.

“Join me,” Trel begins, gesturing around the room in one large, sweeping motion. “I have discovered powers the Ancients have been keeping from us. We can use these powers to defend against those who wish us harm. We will be able to prevent our deaths and wrest control of Comoros from the Ancients. They’ll no longer be able to choose our fate or dictate how we live our lives. We’ll show them that our generation is destined to be the true inheritor of their evolution.”

More shouts and grumbles fill the air. All the while, Trel is smiling as he glances at the disturbed faces that now encircle him. He lets go of the priest as the room continues to boil over.

“Children, please, you don’t understand,” the priest is trying to shout, but his voice only carries a few feet. “This isn’t your true path. You must follow what’s already been outlined for you or all will be lost.”

“Shut up, old man,” someone in the front row says. “You no longer control our destiny.”

Shouts of agreement replace the grumbling. Trel takes hold of the priest and drags him to his feet.

“Those who wish to join me, stay, as I have much to show you. If you don’t wish to take part then leave the City of Myro, as your fate has already been decided… by me.”

Trel’s last remark is accompanied by a wide grin spreading over his face and his eyes sparkling red. Almost two thirds of the room remains. Those who escape appear to have young children waiting for them outside.

Zander bumps my shoulder and points to a small group on the far right. Huddled among them is Knox, looking the same as he does today, but with a little more swagger.

As soon as the front door is closed, Trel shoves the priest back onto the floor. The group gathers around the two of them as a glow of red energy begins to surround the pair. The air fills with so much hatred and anger that it reaches a point of almost choking me.

Trel’s demeanor begins to darken as he stares down at the priest. “Now, my friend, I believe your usefulness has met its end.”

The priest screams as his body begins to burn from the inside out. Fire shoots from his eyes as they melt away, and black smoke pours from his mouth as his screams are brought to a sudden halt. Trel finally lets go and the charred carcass falls to the stone floor, leaving scorch marks from the heat of the body. No one says a word. Many are too in awe of what they just witnessed, while others look terrified about what they’ve just gotten themselves into. The crowd parts as Trel makes his way to the altar. He reaches into a small cubbyhole below the mantel and extracts the tome, along with a smaller book.

“This, my dear friends, is the key to our survival,” Trel comments as he sets down the smaller book. “I will teach you everything in here, and we will be unstoppable.”

“What is that?” a young woman with sharp features asks as her fingers gently caress the leathery cover.

“It’s a spell book, Katrina. I found it in my father’s study, buried under the floorboards. It was almost calling to me to find it, begging to be brought out of the darkness.” Trel holds up the tome. “This allows me to interpret the spell book. I’ll teach you everything these two books contain, and all I ask in exchange is loyalty.”

The group agrees to Trel’s terms, and he begins teaching them the spells (one’s that I recognize myself because I’m still learning the same ones now). Zander takes my hand and we head back out of the mirror.

I go to the bathroom to splash some water on my face while Zander heads into the living room. I can’t get the image of the priest disintegrating out of my head. Thank God I couldn’t smell it, otherwise I probably would’ve lost my breakfast. I still don’t understand why that group so willingly gave up their lives to follow Trel. He didn’t lay out a compelling reason, at least not to me anyway. Was he using a spell I don’t know about yet? And what spell did he use on the priest? Does a death curse already exist, or did he make it up?

When I exit, Zander has my journal open in his lap to the painting of us standing in front of a mirror. The communication sphere is blinking in his hand. He tosses the sphere to me when I get closer. I sit down on the floor by the log pile, tap the bottom of the device, and place it against the wall. An image of Knox lights up. He looks a little worn out, but not too bad.

“Hey, you two, this is the first chance I’ve gotten to send you a message. The Mitris have been running me hard in their training cycles. It wasn’t too difficult to get in, especially when I told them about my connections with the Ligotas.” Knox wipes sweat from his face.

“I haven’t been able to find out anything as to why Gaden Lamen is seeking out the Ligotas. I thought they would’ve told me something when I first got here, but the soldiers have been very tight-lipped about it. The Order of Terac has now almost been completely swallowed up by the Mitris. They’re taking over everything. My leader is a man by the name of Grey Coulson. His son, Leo, is in the Order, and has been given the task of hunting you down, Aven.”

Knox takes a few breaths before settling down.

“I do have good news. The plague seems to have stopped. There haven’t been any more fatalities in the last day or two. Gaden Lamen insisted that everyone be immunized by his medical team, including me. Once the city and its villages were inoculated, the plague stopped spreading. If you want my honest opinion, I don’t believe there was ever a plague to begin with. I’m not sure what Gaden is having his staff inject us with, but it takes about three rounds of shots before they claim to have inoculated us. The death rate at the beginning of all this was high, but once people were convinced that the new medical team had a solution everyone got in line real quick. I’ll try to contact you both again in the next few days.”

The sphere shuts off.

“Will he know we received his message?” Zander asks as I pick up the device and place it back into my rucksack.

“I don’t know, but hopefully. I’m not happy with the idea that he’s been injected by something created by the Mitris. For all we know it could be the plague, just a modified version.”

“Then why give it to everyone?”

“I’m not sure. I just don’t trust Gaden Lamen, or Grey Coulson for that matter. Knox being led by him is dangerous. If Grey finds out that Knox is associated with us, he’ll use him to find us.”

“What do you think Grey would do to him, or us?”

“He’d make sure Knox suffers as much as possible. He probably has access to all kinds of weapons now that he’s joined the Mitris. In regard to us, he’d turn us over to Gaden, but he’d probably have me tortured first. He blames Michael and me for everything.” I sigh as I close my eyes and try to picture Michael safe in the mountains. “At least Michael can’t fall into that cranky old man’s clutches. He has no way of locating him.”

Zander stands, stretches, and reaches down to pick up the journal, then flips to the painting of us and the mirror. “We need to get going on Trel’s life, so we can turn our focus back towards finding the watchtower.”

As if on cue, the painting labeled Six comes to life. Only, it’s not an image, but a message.

The night after next, leave the cottage and head northeast towards the cliffs, which overlook the Grynden Sea. A light will be waiting for you, and so will I.

The image disappears and the page is blank once again.

“What was that?” I ask after my mind finally registers what I saw.

“Prime Jarron,” Zander answers. “He’s the only one who could send a message through the paintings.”

“At least he knows where we are,” I say a little testily. “Why is he having us meet him and not the other way around?”

“There isn’t a flat enough area to place the watchtower. He needs at least twenty feet of clear space, and we just don’t have that here.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” I mumble.

Zander glares at me as he closes the journal and shoves it in my face. I put it in the rucksack and the two of us go into the kitchen to get a quick bite to eat. While we’re munching on our sandwiches, I ask him about the spell Trel used on the priest.

“It’s a mortality flare, which incinerates a person from the inside out. It’s a horrible, painful death as you saw, but it’s the only true defensive spell known.”

“Do you need to be touching the person in order to perform it?”

“No, but it’s extremely complex and I’m not in a hurry for you to learn it… yet.”

I don’t know how to feel about possibly learning such a destructive spell, but if it’s the only one known that could keep me live then I’ll have no choice.

We finish our food, take turns using the bathroom, and then it’s back into the mirror.

TWELVE

This time we’re not in the oratory, but standing in ankle-deep snow outside a stout building with a roof of thatch. Smoke rises from the chimney, and loud voices pour out into the night from the interior. The streets are somewhat deserted, but there are a few stragglers hustling about. Zander leads me towards the entrance of the establishment and we step inside.

In the far back corner, drunks sing loudly to a man trying desperately not to drop his fiddle. He looks more nervous than inebriated, which is making his playing something awful. A long bar sits on the right side of the building, while the rest of the floor is taken up by round tables, thick wooden chairs, and so much alcohol I’m surprised we’re not swimming in it.

“Where are we?” I ask as Zander steps off to the side.

“A small pub in the hamlet of Welding. Seven months have passed since Trel began his recruiting. He hasn’t been able to rally as many followers in the other cities like he did in Myro, so he’s actually looking for someone in particular to help him.”

“Who?”

Instead of answering, Zander points to an olive-skinned beauty sitting at the opposite end of the room. Her boots are propped up on the table as her chair tips slightly backwards. She sips at the ale in her hands while her eyes never stop moving about the room. Her long, straight dark hair with a purple tint hangs loosely at her sides, and the coat she’s wearing looks too big for her thin frame. I glance about the room and finally spot Trel by the fireplace in the center of the room. He’s watching the woman watch the room, probably trying to determine when the appropriate time to approach her may be.

Trel turns away from the woman for only a moment, and when he looks back she’s joined him at his table. She moves so quickly I almost miss it.

“Hello, Trel,” the woman says, her voice as smooth as silk. “I heard a rumor that you’re looking for me.”

A lump seems to have caught in Trel’s throat, and he’s unable to respond.

The woman leans forward and drags the tip of her finger over the rim of his mug. “I thought you were a man of words and action, but at the moment you look utterly terrified,” she says, smiling.

“I was just so taken aback by your beauty that I didn’t know what to say,” Trel responds.

The woman leans back in her chair, and smirks at Trel in such a way that I can’t tell if she’s flattered or annoyed by the remark. “Such a flatterer you are. Your reputation precedes you. I’ve been warned that you have a way with women, or at least try to.” This last comment causes her to giggle, which only pisses Trel off.

“Do you want me to let the local Terac officers know who you are? From my understanding, there’s a bounty on your head that’s so high it could provide wealth for generations to one lucky son of a bitch.”

Her smile vanishes as she straightens up. “No one threatens me, least of all someone who is in desperate need of my services.” She leans so far forward that her face almost rams into his. “Scream all you want, pretty boy, and you’ll be dead before you even get out of your chair. Are you stupid enough to think I came alone? How many of my people do you think are in this lovely establishment?”

“What makes you think I came alone?” he responds.

I do a quick check of the room. It takes me a few seconds to find Katrina sitting at a table behind me in the shadows of the door. She has two other men with her, one of whom is Knox.

“We could banter back and forth like this all night, but I doubt you want to be away from your flock for as long as you have been.” She props her boots up on the table. “Now, shall we get down to business?”

“You want to rid the region of the Ancients, correct?”

“Is this how you always begin propositioning a woman? With a stupid question? Stop wasting my time, Trel. I have better things to do.”

“Fine, no more playing around.” He takes a swig from his mug before continuing. “You and I have the same goal: take control of Comoros from the Ancients. I was thinking if we joined our forces we could accomplish this goal much more quickly.”

“But then we’d be fighting each other for power, and I never lose.”

“You did the last go-around you had with this region,” Trel comments, which causes the woman’s face to turn a dark crimson.

“I won’t allow that to happen again,” she responds through sharp, gritted teeth.

“And I’m the one who can ensure your victory this time.” Trel reaches inside his jacket and pulls out the small spell book, which he casually sets down on the table.

“What’s that?” the woman asks dismissively.

“It’s a spell book. Something the Ancients created for their next lineage, which as I found out doesn’t include my generation.”

The woman picks it up and slowly flips through the pages. “How can you read anything that’s written in here? It’s all utter nonsense.”

“Not if you have the key to unraveling it.”

“Am I to assume you do?”

“Of course.”

“Then prove it.”

“Nope,” he says, sipping some more of his ale.

“Why not?” the woman almost spits as her tone turns to anger.

“I can’t show you all my toys at once, now, can I? I need to have something to hold over your head, otherwise you won’t help me.”

“What makes you think I want to learn anything about your stupid spells? For all I know you’re making this shit up. You haven’t shown me one piece of proof that what you’re telling me is genuine.”

“Fair enough. How about a little demonstration?” Trel grabs the woman’s wrist. Her eyes widen in shock. Her breathing begins to quicken when she realizes she can’t break free.

“Now, Valora, how many of your Ligotas are in this pub?”

Sweat breaks out along her forehead as she tries to prevent herself from answering. She bites her lower lip, drawing a small drop of blood.

“Eight,” finally escapes from her mouth.

“And which ones are they?”

Without saying a word, she signals to Trel with her eyes the people in her group. Two are over by the fiddler, one is sitting at the bar, two more are over by Katrina’s table, and the final three are at the table next to me.

“Very good,” Trel says, but he doesn’t let go. “Now, which one of these followers do you despise the most?”

“The…the one at the bar,” she stammers.

Trel moves his glance from Valora over to the large man sitting on the barstool, chatting it up with the bartender. The red energy I saw before rises from the floor and begins to encircle both Trel and the man. Within seconds the man is screaming while everyone else can only look on in horror. He’s stuck to his seat as flames lick around the edges of his body.

Trel seems to have enhanced the mortality flare in such a way that it will immolate its victim from any angle, not just the inside.

Several people grab water buckets that rest next to the fireplace and dump them on the charred figure. The action is more to stop the spread of the flames than to actually save the man’s life. Trel lets go of Valora and continues to sip his ale as if nothing happened. Much of the pub clears out from the smoke and stench of burnt flesh. Those who stay are the remaining Ligotas and Trel’s followers.

“Do I have your attention now?” Trel says after a moment of silence.

“How’d you do that?” Valora stammers, her eyes still wide and her skin a shade paler.

“All in good time, my dear. Now, will you help us or shall I massacre more of your kind? I’m sure it would make the Ancients pleased as that’s their plan anyway.”

“You’re supposed to kill us?”

“That’s the idea, yet I think your kind has a purpose and shouldn’t be snuffed out so easily. I think you have as much right to this region as the Ancients do, maybe even more so since you were technically here first. They only came to being after the region’s annihilation, which was the result of that last war fought to rid the land of you. So, if you think about it, you’re directly responsible for the Ancients’ rise and they owe you.”

“Comoros belongs to the Ligotas,” Valora snarls.

“I quite agree, which is why we should join forces.”

“The only way that can happen is if you become a Ligotas.”

Trel lifts his chin, obviously pondering the idea.

“I have some conditions to that,” he says.

“Of course you do, as do I.”

“Ladies first.”

“All your people must go through the entire Ligotas ritual. It’s not easy becoming one of us, so those who survive the process we will openly accept into our fold. Our numbers do need to grow significantly if we’re to take control, so having your members would assist us in accomplishing that.”

“Sounds like a reasonable condition, but my group isn’t as large as it could be. I seem to be lacking the one morsel that will draw more people to me, and I was hoping you might have that.”

Valora smiles, exposing her sharp teeth. “Oh, I do, and it’s something everyone wants.”

The two lean close together, but I can no longer hear what they’re saying. Zander takes my hand and we exit the pub. Within a few steps we’re back in the bedroom. I feel chilled, even though I couldn’t sense the cold at the hamlet. I go into the living room and wrap myself up in the blanket that’s stretched over the mattress.

“How could Knox be with those people?” I say once Zander has joined me. “That just seems so unlike him.”

“In actuality, that is exactly how Knox is, or should I say was. He went through a lot to become the person you now know. He and Trel were like-minded. So was Katrina – so were a lot of them.”

“But he had trouble gathering followers.”

“The City of Myro was easy to take control of. Trel had been raised there, so everyone knew him. It’s easier to convince a friend than it is a stranger.”

“What was Valora able to provide to Trel in order for his flock to grow?”

Zander sits on the mattress next to me before answering. “Immortality.”

“How is that possible?”

“Valora comes from the underworld, which has control over longevity. The creatures of the underworld have untapped power, and if they were ever able to fully use that power none of us would exist anymore. The Ligotas are the first demons to make it out of the furnace, but if we don’t stop them more will follow.”

“And Valora never thought to tell the other creatures down there how to get out?”

“Why should she? If they did, she’d have to share Comoros with them or fight them for it. The Ligotas are not the most powerful creatures from that realm. They’re just the more cunning.”

“What happened to Valora when Trel lost?”

“She was banished to the underworld along with Trel. They were sealed in and their followers were obliterated from existence.”

“By the Ancients?”

“Yes, well, only by one.”

“Myro.”

“He was only responsible for entombing Valora and Trel. The Ancient Delphi killed thousands with one simple gesture. His powers dwarfed that of his siblings.”

“Wait, the Ancients had powers? You mean they could do the spells that I’m learning?”

“They only recorded the ones they felt were necessary for the evolution, but yes.”

“Sounds to me like they were already higher beings. What else is there to become?”

“That question will be answered after the last painting is revealed.”

“So, you don’t know,” I say. It’s obvious he has no idea what’s actually coming.

“Yes, no one does, not even the deans,” he answers, glaring at me.

“Why entomb Trel and Valora at all? Why not just kill them like the others?”

“That, I don’t know. It would’ve made more sense, but the Guardians were never told why those two were kept alive. And, before you ask, the deans don’t know either.”

My head begins to hurt, so I go into the kitchen to get a drink of water. I’m dreading how much more Zander has to show me in the little time we’ve been given. I still don’t understand why the Ancients would keep two of the deadliest people in history alive. What purpose could it serve? Did Myro take pity on Trel since he was his son? Then why keep Valora alive?

“Are you ready to continue?” Zander asks when I go back into the living room.

“Sure.”

It’s not like I have a choice, so I’m not sure why he’s asking.

Knox is kneeling in front of an older man in Sacrer robes. Brick buildings burn around the two of them as people run in terror or lay dead on the cobbled street. The landscape has been thrust into midnight, even though the sun is trying its best to be seen through the smoke.

“Why have you come here, Knox?” the man asks as he grips a heavy knife in his shaking fingers, the blade nearly piercing Knox’s throat.

“Parime, please, I mean you no harm,” Knox replies. His voice wobbles slightly.

“If that were true, then you wouldn’t have burned my city to the ground.”

“I admit to having been a part of the sacrifices –”

“Sacrifices?!” Parime shouts. “These were your friends and your family. You murdered them for you own greed and lust, just as Trel ordered you to. You’re becoming a true Ligotas, just like the others.”

“But I’ve changed my mind. I no longer want to be a part of their madness. Valora has corrupted Trel’s mind, and soon the others will follow. She’s made promises to them that I don’t think she intends to keep.”

“What types of promises?” Parime asks, loosening his grip on the knife slightly.

“She says she can give us immortality, but she’s never actually told us how she plans on doing that. Trel has fallen for her lies. He’s changing into something I don’t want to become. He’s almost deformed; his features have sharpened and his mind has warped. I fear for my safety since I’ve left the group. Trel needs to be destroyed before it’s too late,” Knox answers, practically begging.

“And what do you offer in exchange if I spare your life?”

“Anything. I know I can’t undo the harm I’ve already caused, so please give me a chance to make up for it. I’ll do whatever the Ancients ask of me.”

“How do I know that what you’re telling me is true? You could be lying, as all Ligotas do.”

“I know things that will help you fulfill the prophecy you’ve started to put into place.”

“How do you know about that?” Parime asks. His eyes widen and he pushes the blade to the point of just breaking Knox’s skin.

“A woman has been helping you. She’s told me what you plan on doing. I’ve known her my whole life and put faith in what she’s telling me. She bartered for her salvation, just like I’m doing now. Please, let me help bring your plans to fruition.”

“The woman was careless to have mentioned such matters to you. For that she will pay dearly but, yes, you are correct that she is assisting us in defeating Trel. I refuse to say in what way, though, and you had better not ask.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Parime looks to be thinking over the proposition as the smoke around them thickens. “Very well,” he says, though he still doesn’t lower the knife. “I will spare your life, for now, but you must do the following. Bring as many of Trel’s followers as you can to the Ancient, Delphi. He will meet you in the Valley of Dearmad at the henge. Your life will no longer be yours once you’ve entered into this agreement. You must do everything that is ever asked of you, is that clear?”

“Yes,” Knox answers without hesitation.

Parime smiles as he lowers the weapon. “Good. Now go. I’ll send word to Delphi about our deal. You have three days to round up as many followers as you can and get them to the valley.”

Zander takes my hand and we step back through the mirror. I’m exhausted and tell him I can’t handle anymore today. He agrees and we go into the living room. I add a few more logs to the fire while he gets dinner prepared. I replay the scene over and over in my head. I can only think of one woman who could possibly have turned on Trel, and that’s Katrina. But why? Did she do it for the same reason as Knox? Or was it because of something else?

“It was Katrina, wasn’t it, who Knox was referring to?” I ask when I enter the kitchen.

“Yes. She was a pivotal part in ending the war. She was the one who took the amulet from Trel and hid it.”

“How’d she do that?”

“I’ve never gone into that memory on the lanx, so I couldn’t tell you.”

“Was that her only contribution?”

Zander turns to face me; his expression is one of sadness. “No, she made a greater sacrifice than that.”

“Which was?”

He hesitates in responding. “It’s not important,” he finally says, turning away from me. “Tomorrow will be an easier day for us,” he continues before I can ask another question. “We only have one more memory to visit, which is that of Trel’s expulsion. After that we can work on more of the spells before we have to leave for the coast.”

He quickly finishes putting dinner together, while I stand by the wall and contemplate how I’m going to get the lanx away from him tonight.

THIRTEEN

I have to fight myself most of the night. My body wants to sleep, but I can’t let it. I need to see Katrina’s memories. I have to know what her contribution to the prophecy was. Zander can easily blow it off because he’s more focused on Trel and where we need to go, but I can’t let this slide. Something about her is eating at the back of my mind, and I need to figure out what it is.

Zander takes forever to fall asleep, and by the time he finally does I’ve almost followed suit. I quietly get up from the mattress and go into the bedroom. The lanx is sitting on the dresser where Zander put it after our last excursion, so I simply pick it up and place it into the mirror. I’m hoping that since I’ve seen him work this thing several times now, I can figure out how to find the file I need. The system used to mark the memories doesn’t make much sense to me, so it causes me issues in locating what I need. They’re at least separated by person, but that’s it, so I decide to parade around Katrina’s life until I can find what I need. I take a walk with her as she grows from child to adult. Her mother is a seamstress, and her father is a blacksmith. It’s just the three of them, no other children. Katrina seems genuinely happy as she ages, but when her parents die within days of each other her world turns upside down.

I can relate to that.

She begins to spend a lot of time with Trel and Knox. She has the small house to herself, so Trel and Knox stay there quite often. I can see why she was easy to manipulate, as she had nothing left. I’m transported through her life one moment at a time, each one getting more tragic by the minute. She’s glued herself so tightly to Trel that they become lovers. She does everything he asks of her and more. He doesn’t teach her the spells that everyone else is learning, and she can’t understand why. Trel constantly berates her whenever she brings up the topic. Her shine on him begins to erode away when he takes Valora as a lover. She erupts at Trel one night, in front of the entire camp.

“I don’t want to be a part of this any longer!” she cries.

“No one asked you to stay,” Trel spits back. “I’m tired of your whining anyway. You’ve yet to fulfill even the first step into becoming a Ligotas, so I advise that you leave before I make you a sacrifice for the others.”

Katrina gathers her few belongings and heads out into the night.

It’s at this moment that I’m finally forced to step out of the mirror. The entire time I was inside every memory played continuously, which makes me wonder why there’s now a gap. I move onto the next file and step back inside. Katrina is standing next to the altar in the oratory, but she’s not alone. Myro stands before her, his arms crossed over his chest, and anger burning deep in his eyes.

“You shouldn’t have come back here,” the man says.

“I know, but I had to. It all started here and I need it to end here,” Katrina says, her eyes averted.

“Where are Trel and the others?”

“They’re camping just north of the Acad Fields. I’ve been ejected from the group.”

“Why is that?”

“I haven’t completed my initial step in becoming a Ligotas like the others. Trel refuses to have me around any longer because of it.”

“Well, you can’t kill what you don’t have, Katrina. You have no family, and that’s who the Ligotas want you all to turn on first. You were never going to be able to follow them, no matter how much you wanted to. Trel would’ve known this. They all would’ve. I’m surprised he let you live as long as he did.”

“Then why didn’t he just kill me from the start?” Katrina tries to shout, but her voice gets caught in her throat as her body is wracked with sobs. “Why did he choose to sacrifice his sister instead of me?”

The man goes over to her and places his hands on her shoulders. “Because he loves you. Always has and always will. Deep down, he’s never going to let anything truly bad happen to you. It would destroy him.”

“Then why is he with Valora?”

“She’s a Ligotas; they can trick people with a simple thought. He really doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing.”

“Myro, how can you be so blind?” she yells, shoving him away. “Trel did this, all of this. He sought Valora out. He wants you and the other Ancients dead. He’s the one in charge, not her. He has some kind of control over her. She’s weakened since the groups came together. It’s almost like he’s feeding off her life, her energy. I don’t think she can fully see the extent of what he’s doing.”

“Then show her.”

“What?” Katrina says, a look of shock on her face.

“Break the spell he has her under. He has the Cosanta Amulet, right? Take it away from him. It’s the only thing he could be using to maintain this hold on her. Valora would never allow herself to be so manipulated if it wasn’t for a spell.”

“You want me to go back to them? He’ll kill me if I return.”

“He may, but as long as he’s not wearing the amulet Valora may kill him first.”

“What do I do once I get it?”

Myro smiles. “I assume Trel has been teaching you all from the spell book, so just cast a concealment charm on yourself and retreat to the Valley of Dearmad.”

“I’m the only one he’s not teaching,” she mumbles.

Myro rubs his chin before responding. “Then simply put the necklace on and think of yourself as invisible. You really don’t need to know the spells to work the magic in the amulet.”

Katrina drums her fingers on the top of the altar. “What will happen to me if I retrieve this for you?”

“You’ll be spared from death. Of course, you can’t mention any of this to anyone. If you do, you’ll die like the rest.”

She mulls his words over before finally shaking her head.

The scene suddenly changes to a small farm, where the main house is still smoldering from a fire. Animals run around the grounds since there isn’t anyone to corral them back into the barn. I recognize the place as the one I stayed in on my first night after leaving the City of Delphi. Katrina will need to prove she killed someone in order to be let back into the group, but she doesn’t have any family, so how is she going to do it? The ground is covered in bright green grass instead of the snow I’m familiar with. Katrina sets her pack down before removing a knife and a sackcloth bag. I’m not sure what she’s up to, but she heads steadily over to a group of sleeping pigs and stabs one in the neck. The remaining animals flee for their lives. Katrina cuts open the carcass and removes the heart, which she wraps up before placing it into the bag. She still needs to come up with an explanation as to where the heart came from, but I’m sure she’ll come up with something plausible.

As soon as she’s back on her path, the scene switches again to her entering the camp. Currently, Knox is the only one in the vicinity, which causes Katrina to cautiously move forward. He stares at her slow pace, but doesn’t reach for the weapon at his feet.

“Where are the others?” she finally says when she’s only meters away.

“Out. I volunteered to stay behind and keep watch,” Knox responds, eyes narrowing. “What brings you back?”

“I came to see Trel. How long have they been gone?”

“A couple of hours. They won’t be back until later tonight.” Knox gestures to the wooden stump next to him. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll get you something to eat.”

She hesitates before complying.

He hands her some dried meat from a dish on a table behind him.

She takes small bites at first, probably testing to see what it is before shoveling the rest of it into her mouth.

He hands her a small cup of water.

“Why did you volunteer to stay?” she asks. “You’ve always been right on Trel’s heels during everything. What happened to cause this change?”

“I haven’t changed,” Knox snaps. “Someone needed to keep an eye on things here, so I decided to do it. There isn’t anything more to it.”

Katrina tilts her head slightly, and I can imagine the wheels in her head turning. “You’re such a bad liar,” she says with a smirk. “You may act all high and mighty, but you’re scared just like I am.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel,” he replies, but it’s obvious the wind has been taken out of his sails. He begins to carve lines into the mud with a stick. “Where did you go?”

“Home,” she says, dropping her head down.

“Was anyone there?”

“Just Myro. He’s the only one left.”

“What did he say when he saw you?”

“Not much.” She lets silence fall between the two of them before summoning the courage to admit to the deal she made. “Myro is letting me live if I help him and the Ancients.”

Knox doesn’t respond for a short time. “Oh,” is all he says.

She leans into him and begins whispering in his ear. They separate several minutes later, only to continue to sit in silence.

“It won’t work,” Knox finally says. “He’ll know you betrayed him.”

“I have to do it. I don’t have a choice.”

“You sound like me,” Knox says, his voice getting weary. “But the truth is, we all have choices – the outcome just depends which choices we decide to make.”

“Do you regret any of yours?”

Knox doesn’t answer right away. His eyes become moist as they well with tears. “Yes. I regret many of them.”

“Then help me,” Katrina says, sliding onto the ground so she’s now kneeling in front of him.

He lifts his eyes to meet hers, picks up the weapon at his feet, and raises it above his head.

I try to close my eyes to avoid what’s coming, but the green mist surrounding the memory won’t allow me.

Knox brings the knife down and slices his left arm, covering the blade in blood. He smears some on his seat and Katrina’s clothing. She bandages his wound; he hands her the weapon and disappears into the woods. Katrina retakes her seat and patiently waits for the others to return.

It’s well past nightfall when the group enters the camp. Katrina had started a fire in a pit in the center of the enclosure several hours earlier and is now calmly sitting next to it. The number of people has dwindled since the last time I saw them. Among the missing is Valora, which upsets Katrina. A crowd begins to form around her and the fire, but they make sure to leave a path for Trel when he enters.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he yells. “Where’s Knox?”

Katrina stands, faces Trel, and drops the weapon onto the ground. She pulls out the cloth bag and removes the pig’s heart.

“I killed him while you were away,” she says nonchalantly. “Here’s his heart. The rest of him, well, is scattered around somewhere.”

“That’s not possible,” Trel says, his mouth hanging open.

“You said I needed to fulfill my obligation in order to become a Ligotas, so I have.”

“But he wasn’t a family member,” someone from the back comments.

“He was a lover of mine at one time which, according to Valora, counts,” Katrina says, grinning widely.

“He wouldn’t have let you get close enough,” Trel says, stepping closer.

“It’s amazing what powers love can wield, especially when used appropriately.”

I can’t believe how easily the lies are coming to her.

Trel appears to be lost for words. His eyes are scanning Katrina from head to toe, probably taking in all the blood on her clothing.

“Leave us,” he orders the others.

Without hesitation, they obey.

Trel walks around Katrina with a perplexed look upon his face.

“I’m surprised,” he finally says. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have given up on me so quickly,” she retorts. “I can be very useful to you, if you give me the chance.”

Trel licks his lips as he moves his body closer to hers.

“Where’s Valora?” Katrina asks cautiously.

“She’ll be back in a few days.”

Trel presses his body against Katrina’s and almost forces his tongue down her throat. She goes with it. The two make their way towards a tent, all the while ripping each other’s clothes off. Thankfully the memory shifts before I have to see any more.

Katrina is lying naked next to Trel as he flips through the tome. He seems to be searching for something near the end of the book.

“Here it is,” he says, propping himself sideways so he can read the page while looking at her. “I’ve been trying to figure out what this means for the last several days. This page used to be blank; however, after your return the poem appeared, so I was hoping we could figure this out together.” Trel clears his throat before continuing. “‘Come find me in the valley where the ethereal waters flow, and blessings will be given in time as you grow….’”

My heart sinks upon hearing the atonement chant. Could this be how my mother learned it? Am I a decedent of Trel? Knots form in my stomach and I double over in pain, nauseated. I fall to my knees as the green mist swirls around, changing the scene yet again. I feel dizzy, cold, and numb. I don’t want to look at what memory this is now, I really don’t care anymore, but a hand touches my shoulder, startling me out of my stupor. Zander is standing next to me, sadness etched deep into his suddenly-aging face. He points towards the tent Katrina is exiting. She slips the necklace around her neck as she tucks the tome and spell book into her bag. Within seconds she’s gone, but I can still see everything.

Trel stumbles out of the tent half-naked and rubbing sleep from his eyes. It takes him several minutes to realize that a mob has formed at one end of the camp and is rapidly making their way towards him, with Valora in the lead. He doesn’t act quickly enough, and several Ligotas are holding Trel’s hands tightly behind his back.

“What is this?” Trel spits out.

“You thought you could control me?” Valora calmly says, loathing dripping from her words. “I’m the leader of the underworld and you thought some stupid spell would keep me bound to you?”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Trel stammers.

A Ligotas punches him in the face, splitting his lip open.

“Where’s your little trinket, Trel?” Valora says as she caresses his bare collarbone.

The Ligotas loosen their grip enough to allow Trel to grab at his neck and realize the necklace is missing. His eyes widen and his breathing quickens.

“Katrina!” he shouts. “Katrina! Where you are you?”

Valora smiles. “Ah, so your sweetheart stole your amulet. How lovely. She’s given me my sight back, and I see what needs to be removed.” Valora draws a pointy fingernail gently along Trel’s cheek. “You’ve given me my numbers and taught them well in regard to the magic your Ancients created. So, why do I need you any longer?” She reaches into her boot and removes a sica. She swings it gracefully, cutting Trel across the abdomen. “Now, this isn’t going to hurt me one bit.”

She proceeds to torture Trel while the other Ligotas begin slaughtering those who left the City of Myro to follow him. Their screams fill the air; I catch a twig swinging at the back of the melee, only no one is there, at least that I can see.

The memory quickly changes and I’m now standing next to the henge in the Valley of Dearmad. Katrina is pinned against one of the stone pillars by a tall, muscular man. She claws at his grip around her throat; her face begins to turn purple from lack of oxygen.

“You defied us, Katrina,” the man says. “Myro gave you strict instructions not to tell anyone about the deal you made, yet Knox has confided in Parime everything you told him.”

“I had to. I needed…his…help,” she says, gasping.

“You were foolish in thinking you could trust him. He could’ve told every one of our plans, which would’ve led Valora and Trel right to us.”

“Please,” she begs, “I can’t breathe.”

“That’s the idea,” the man says, squeezing tighter. “You were told you’d be killed if you spoke to anyone about it. Why are you surprised that I’m killing you now?”

“I need to live,” she whispers as tears pour down her face. “Please, I have to live.”

“And why should I let you?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Even more of a reason to put you out of your misery, as I’m sure the child belongs to Trel.”

“Delphi, please, be merciful.”

“When have you ever known me to be merciful? Your parents began defying the order we put in place and look what happened to them. You’re just like your parents, and should be extinguished as such.”

“But I retrieved the amulet and the books for you, doesn’t that count for something?”

“No.”

Delphi looks to be on the verge of snapping her neck when crunching noises begin to echo from the outer edge of the valley. He lets Katrina go, but she doesn’t move from her spot. She appears to be unable to move at all, almost like she’s glued in place.

Zander taps my arm and points to the arriving horde, which is pouring in from the west. Delphi takes a step to the right and raises one hand. A blue light suddenly lifts from the ground and encircles the henge, protecting him and Katrina. The crowd stops only inches from touching the cool, shimmering light.

“It’s time, Delphi,” a young man at the front of the pack says, with much confidence. “The Ancients’ reign is over. The Ligotas have Comoros now. You failed, old man.”

“How can I fail when you can’t get past my shield?’ Delphi says, as if trying to egg them on.

“Knox told us all about you, which is why we’re here. Don’t play coy with us. The other Ancients will fall shortly, just as you will now.”

“Very well,” Delphi says with a slight smile. “Come on in.”

The shield is lowered, but the crowd doesn’t get a chance to take one step forward. Within seconds they’re incinerated with one simple swipe of Delphi’s hand. Katrina screams at the sight, and is trying to break herself loose from the spell holding her to the pillar. Delphi has her throat in his hands again, squeezing to the point that I can hear a creaking in her neck, but he suddenly loosens his grip without letting go.

“A thought just occurred to me,” he says with a devilish grin. “I can use your predicament to my advantage.”

“What do you mean?” she says, terrified.

“Your pregnancy gives me the opportunity I need to fix the evolutionary change. Thanks to Trel, we’ve had to scrap everything and start over. But you…you will give me exactly what I need.” He lets go of her neck and tosses her to the ground. “With my seed inside you, Trel’s child won’t have a chance. I can begin a family line of my own and have them become the true leaders of our new world. Of course, it won’t be this child, but her children who will belong to me.”

I close my eyes as her screams fill the night.

FOURTEEN

I don’t remember stepping out of the mirror, so Zander must have pulled me out since we’re now standing back in the bedroom. I feel disgusted with everything. Not just with what I saw in Katrina’s memories, but in the fact that I’m possibly a bloodline of one of the Ancients, or Trel, or both. Seeing Delphi for who he truly is makes me want to destroy the Ancients myself, if they’re still around. I can see why Trel made some of the choices that he did.

I try to walk, but my legs give out and I fall to the floor. My face is soaked in tears, and my body starts to shake from shock. Zander leaves the room and returns a few moments later with the heavy blanket, which he wraps around me. He disappears again only to return with a glass of water that he has to hold up to my lips in order for me to drink.

I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to be with my mom, dad, and Michael. I want to go home.

“You left the lanx out for me, didn’t you?” I finally ask.

“Yes,” Zander replies in a low voice. “You never went into her memories before, but something told me you needed to this time. I had no idea what they entailed until I was seeing them. I should’ve gone with you from the start. I’m sorry you went through most of it alone.”

“Did you know Delphi was that horrible?”

He averts his eyes, which answers my question.

“Were the others like him?”

“No. Delphi tried to control as many of his siblings as he could, which is one of the reasons why the one brother left. The others went along with Delphi mainly out of fear. Parime was the only one who could stand up to Delphi when it really mattered, which is why his city is in the time loop. It’s for their protection against the prophecy.” Zander scoots closer before continuing. “Parime knew Delphi was dangerous, maybe even more than the Ligotas were, but he never let on about it. Once the war with Trel’s followers was over, the City of Parime was severely scarred. So, once the Ancient Parime was able to get his city back together, he placed them in a sort of bubble outside of time. I don’t know how he did it, but it made Delphi mad to no end. Nothing that happens in Comoros will affect them unless they get pulled back into time sync with the rest of the region. People who aren’t from the city can come and go as they please, because they have no effect on anything to do with the city or its people. Which is why we were able to move about the city so freely.”

“What about the temple? Wouldn’t that have been stuck outside of time? How could it have possibly been destroyed in the previous cycles?”

“Parime knew he had to at least contribute some part into the prophecy, so he allowed the temple to be used and removed it from the time loop. Honestly, I don’t think the citizens of Parime even know the building is there.”

“One thing still puzzles me. Trel had the amulet, which allowed him to perform magic, yet the others would’ve needed the Kerai Couplings. Did they have those?”

“No, but they were still able to handle magic. The couplings didn’t come into play until afterwards. Delphi made sure that all magical abilities would only be allowed to those wearing the couplings. He didn’t want another Trel on his hands.”

“What happened to the amulet?”

“I don’t know. Delphi never makes mention of it again.”

“Did the other Ancients know what he did to Katrina?”

Zander finally raises his eyes to look into mine. “No. If they had, who knows what would’ve happened.” He stands and extends his hand. “Come on, we both need to get some sleep.”

I grab his hand; he pulls me up, and I take the blanket back into the living room with me where I crash on the mattress.

My head hurts when I wake only a few hours later. I don’t think Zander slept at all, since he’s in the kitchen putting meal packets together for when we leave later this afternoon. I head into the bathroom, shut the door, and pump water into the sink to splash on my face. I reach behind me for a towel to dry off. When I look up into the antique mirror that hangs over the sink, I fall backwards with a start at what my reflection has become. I would think my mother staring back at me wouldn’t be so frightful, but the harder I look I notice Katrina in her eyes.

“Sing it to me, Aven,” the woman whispers.

My throat clenches shut, preventing any words from escaping my lips.

“Come now, child,” she says softly. “Don’t be afraid. The others don’t know you have the chant memorized.”

“The others?” I ask, not quite sure I understood what she said.

“The Ancients, and the Guardians,” she replies.

Zander knows, and so does Dean Chares.

“I made sure to teach it to my child, so she would know the message it provides,” the woman continues.

“What message?” I mumble, stepping a few inches closer to the mirror.

“Sing it to me, Aven, and you’ll know.”

Come find me in the valley where the ethereal waters flow

And blessings will be given in time as you grow

Sadness must come as your journey awaits

Your destiny chosen as the prophecy dictates

The past is a memory of which not to forget

For soon there could be a great deal of regret

Temptation abounds and falter you may

But peace will come on the thirteenth of days

Zerah, my love, your life will divide

As evil does its best to trick your mind

Changes to body and soul are assured

But even these tasks will need to be endured

Give in to your fate even as darkness shines

For you are the benevolent, the pure, and the divine

“Beautiful, Aven, but that’s only the first part. You still need to learn the rest.”

“The first part? There’s more to the chant?”

“Yes, oh my, yes,” the woman says, smiling. “You must find the lost tome. Only then will you be able to put the chant together again.”

“But the page the chant was written on is said to have been removed.”

“Who told you that lie?” the woman says, her face darkening.

“I…I don’t remember,” I lie.

“The Sacrer Atonement Chant was divided between the two books. Trel had the first half, the lost tome has the second. Once you’ve found it, everything will become clearer to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your true purpose will be revealed. The Ancients and Guardians have misled everyone. Only when you make the chant whole in your mind will everything be set right. Follow the messages in the chant that you already know. It will tell you where you need to go.”

I’m about to ask another question when there’s a knock on the door and the woman vanishes. I rub my eyes a couple of times just to make sure she’s gone before opening the door.

“You okay?” Zander asks when he sees me. “You’re awfully pale.”

“I’m fine. I just need something to eat.”

I push past him and make my way into the kitchen, where I busy myself with putting breakfast together. We eat in silence mainly because I’m too busy playing the atonement chant over and over again in my mind, trying to see if there’s anything significant about each line.

Come find me in the valley where the ethereal waters flow - could this mean the Valley of Dearmad? The waters are said to start there and flow into the fountain at the kerk, so does it mean the kerk? Could the waters be flowing anywhere else?

And blessings will be given in time as you grow - well, this part seems to indicate the blessings we’re given at seven years old.

Sadness must come as your journey awaits, your destiny chosen as the prophecy dictates - my parents’ death and Michael’s separation from me in the valley depicted in the first painting for the prophecy.

The past is a memory of which not to forget, for soon there could be a great deal of regret - but the Ancients made us forget. They made everyone except the Guardians and the deans, so could this be referring to them? That they’re to remember everything that transpired before to make sure it doesn’t happen again?

Temptation abounds and falter you may - I haven’t experienced anything remotely like this line, but maybe Michael has.

But peace will come on the thirteenth of days - this obviously means the thirteenth cycle.

Zerah, my love, your life will divide as evil does its best to trick your mind - twins divided, which would be Michael and me, but who’s trying to trick my mind? Could this be a reference to Zander? The woman in the mirror said he’s been lying to me, but about what, and why?

Changes to body and soul are assured, but even these tasks will need to be endured - the only way a body and soul could change is if the person became a Ligotas. That’s not going to happen to Michael and me, so who could this line be referencing?

Give in to your fate even as darkness shines, for you are the benevolent, the pure, and the divine - so, let everything transpire as the Ancients want it to? Allow myself to be used solely for their purpose of transforming the region?

I’m so deep in thought that I finally notice Zander staring at me, a concerned look on his face.

“What?” I finally ask, since he’s officially broken my concentration.

“I’m just worried about you. You don’t seem like yourself this morning.”

“I just didn’t get much sleep.”

He looks skeptical about my reply, but lets the conversation go.

I try to focus on deciphering the chant’s meaning, but I’ve lost my focus and am struggling to get it back. After several minutes I finally give up, finish my food, and clean up. I’m about to go into the bathroom to splash some more water on my face, but I resist the urge for fear of the woman making another appearance. I shouldn’t be so afraid since it was my mother, yet at the same time it wasn’t. The voice and eyes were Katrina’s, not hers. How can I even be sure she’s telling the truth about any of what she said? I have nothing to corroborate what she told me, and I can’t ask Zander about it since that would raise too many questions from him including a few regarding my sanity.

Zander taps me on the shoulder as I stand by the fireplace, and points towards the bedroom. It’s time to visit Trel’s life before he’s expelled from the world forever, and have the first look at why I exist.

My feet crush fragile rocks and some sort of debris as we slowly make our way down the deep Valley of Caille Anam. The walls for the entire valley consist of jagged segments of brimstone and volcanic glass. A dried riverbed runs down the center of the valley. The air shimmers with heat that the rocks exude. Zander maneuvers us down into the riverbed, which empties out into an expansive lake. Unfortunately, that’s lacking water as well. A small group of people stands near the center of the lake as if frozen in time. No one moves until we’re practically on top of them.

Delphi has Valora under some kind of spell, preventing her from moving or talking. Her eyes are the only things that presently work and they’re darting back and forth between Trel and Myro.

Trel, surprisingly, doesn’t look too injured since last time I saw him. Scars cover a good portion of the left side of his face. He has some knife wounds on his arms, but other than that he seems to have survived Valora’s torture without too much damage.

“It ends now, Trel,” Myro says in a weak voice.

“This will never end, Father,” Trel says, his tongue heavy with anger. “You think killing me is going to stop any of what I started?”

“Your followers are dead, son; there’s no one left,” Myro responds, almost pleading.

“You lie, just like they all do,” Trel says. He turns towards Delphi. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

“You brought this on yourself, Trel. Siding with the Ligotas was the worst thing you could’ve done,” Delphi replies. “And for that, you shall spend all of eternity with them.” Delphi glances over at Myro, who looks as if he’s being forced to do this to his son.

“That’s not much of a punishment,” Trel says, turning back to his father. “Sending me to the underworld will only give me the opportunity to reestablish my forces.”

Delphi steps closer to the pair. “You think the underworld is a fantasy land? Does becoming a Ligotas mean that much to you? Are you even aware of what they truly look like?”

“What…what do you mean?” Trel asks, his voice trembling slightly.

Delphi wanders back over to where he has Valora. “You see, Trel, this lovely woman you see here is not in her true form. This is the disguise she uses when she’s wandering around on the surface.”

Delphi steps closer to Valora, brushing her hair back with his hands. Even though she can’t move, I sense Valora’s disgust with the gesture. My skin crawls as well.

“Let’s show him who you really are shall we, my dear?” Delphi says, lust dripping from his words. He waves his hand violently in the air, which causes Valora’s figure to shift from human to a true Ligotas.

The only thing that stays the same are her facial features, skin color, and hair. Tall, crimson wings with jagged edges that look like they’re dripping blood erupt from her back. Her mouth opens slightly to reveal razor-sharp teeth and a forked tongue. She towers over the rest of us at well over six feet. Her dark-red nails extend several inches and curl ever so slightly. Her feet break out of her boots. Talons have replaced her toes and they’re razor-sharp. She’s trying her best to fight the spell being used, but Delphi is too powerful.

“We tried warning you,” Myro says, his voice getting stronger. “The priests you murdered tried to tell you. But you wouldn’t listen and now my only living child must spend the rest of his life in Hell with his master.”

Myro reaches under his robes and removes a thick, cylindrical device that has claw-like appendages at either end. Intricate scrolls cover the entire surface of the metallic device. Myro places one end around Trel’s neck. The moment the metal touches his skin he lets out a scream as the appendages dig themselves into his flesh. Blood runs down his neck from the entry wounds. Delphi moves Valora so she’s standing in front of Trel. The other end of the device is placed around her neck, but she doesn’t let out a sound when the appendages gouge their way into her skin.

Delphi positions himself a few feet away from the two prisoners as Myro guides the pair to a square hole in the ground, no bigger than a doorway. Stone pillars, which look to be lying on their sides, line the outer edge of the hole, as if framing it.

“The Puridian Manacle will keep you bound together for all eternity,” Myro says. “There is no escape from it, and no returning from the underworld.”

He pushes Valora and Trel into the hole. Flames shoot skyward a few seconds later, then all is quiet. Delphi stands next to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It had to be done,” he says.

“I know, Delphi.”

Silence falls between them, but only for a moment.

“We must return to the Acad Fields, where the others are waiting for us,” Delphi says, letting go of Myro. “We’ll get our evolution right this time. I guarantee it.” He breaks into a wide smile, but there’s something sinister behind it.

Myro shakes his head, turns, and leaves.

Delphi stays back, casts a spell over the opening to the underworld, and then fills the lake and riverbed with water. Zander and I have stepped out of the lake so as not to get wet, but we wouldn’t anyway.

I trip on a rock and almost lose my balance. Delphi freezes at the noise, though I should be the only one who notices it. As Zander helps me steady myself, Delphi turns in our direction and, as if seeing me, smiles. I can almost hear his thoughts.

Welcome, Aven, glad you could make it. I have so much planned for you.

I have to be hallucinating since this is the past and there’s no way Delphi could know we’re here. Right?

Zander takes my hand and we begin to head back the way we came, but my eyes won’t let go of Delphi. He appears to be following us. I have to repeatedly tell myself over and over that he can’t touch me here, that I’m safe from him. Yet, I feel if he wanted to he could snatch me from Zander and hurl me into the water that has swollen its shores. Once we’re in the bedroom I quickly remove the lanx, fearing Delphi is still following us, but of course it’s just my imagination running away with me.

“You okay?” Zander asks, taking the green disc from my shaking fingers.

“I’m fine, I just want to get out of here as soon as we can.”

I brush past him, head right for my rucksack, and dump out its contents. I want to reach for the spell book and tome, but I hesitate since I now know they were once handled by Trel. Do I really want to touch something of his? Should I continue with the lessons, or tell Zander to go fuck off and run away?

“You don’t seem like yourself,” Zander says, sitting on the mattress across from me.

“How am I supposed to seem?” I snap.

“Aven, I know this is stressful for you –”

“You have no fucking clue what this is like for me!” I yell, cutting him off. “My head feels like it’s going to explode. I can’t think straight; I swear I’m seeing things that aren’t there. I don’t know who I am anymore, or even who to trust.”

“Wait a minute,” Zander says, placing his hands on my shoulders, but I can’t tell if he’s trying to calm me down or if he’s about to shove me. “What are you seeing?”

“Delphi, back there,” I respond, gesturing towards the bedroom. “He saw me, I know he did. If he wanted to, I’m sure he would’ve followed us out of the mirror. And the woman in the mirror –”

“That’s it, let go. It will clear your mind for me,” a voice whispers in my mind.

I begin to hyperventilate at the sound of Trel’s voice. I can’t catch my breath and I begin to see spots. I can’t see Zander any longer, but I know he’s there. He pushes me over so I’m leaning forward, and my head goes down into my lap. He rubs my back and whispers in my ear to try to relax. I feel like the world around me is starting to cave in. I strike out, hitting Zander so he’ll leave me alone. My feet are pounding on the floorboards as I head towards the front door, desperate to get out. The screeching that attacks my senses is devastating. My body spasms as my eardrums feel as if they’re bursting. I fall to my knees as my lungs explode with a blaze of heat and toxins. The noise, like the pain, only increases the more I struggle.

FIFTEEN

Darkness surrounds me.

I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed, or even if Zander is still close by. I’m sprawled on my back, pressed firmly against something hard. My body won’t move no matter how hard I will it. Hot air brushes over my face, almost like something is panting.

“Hello, Aven,” a thick, masculine voice calls to me. “Do you know who I am?”

My mouth moves, but I can’t find my voice. The air is dry and heavy, so my lungs crack the moment I open my lips.

“I know, it’s quite hot down here, but I’m happy you finally came. Here, let me get you something to drink.”

I feel drops of something sweet drip into my mouth and slowly slide down my throat. I try not to swallow any of it since I have no idea what it could be, and my mind runs rampant with horrific ideas.

“There, that should do it,” the man says, patting my lips with a rough cloth.

“Why’d you bring me here?” I finally croak.

“To prepare you, of course, for your transition.”

“I…I don’t want to be a part of any of this.”

“That decision isn’t yours to make,” he responds, his voice slithering into my ears.

“You don’t know me.”

“Oh, but I do. Your mother has been preparing you for this your entire life. Why do you think she only taught you the atonement chant and not Michael as well?”

“She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“She knew exactly what she was doing. In fact, the first part of your transition has already begun. Can you not recall where it all started?”

My heart stops as the air turns bitterly cold.

“The injection,” escapes from my lips before I even know it.

“Very good, Aven.”

“What was it? What was I injected with?”

“You’ll find out. All in good time.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise?” he retorts with a slight laugh. “Oh, this is much too fun. The Ancients won’t know what hit them until it’s too late.”

“Trel, stop this, please,” I cry, as if begging for my life.

His body finally comes into focus as it begins to press down on me. His eyes are pure black, his lips a full red, and his skin is pale as snow. I can’t tell if he’s become a full Ligotas or not, and to be honest I don’t want to find out.

“Delphi was foolish to think my child would succumb to his prowess. Violating Katrina like he did only angered me more.”

“But she betrayed you.”

“She could never do that… willingly.” He smiles; his lips part revealing sharp, straight teeth. “Magic can be a powerful weapon when used appropriately.”

I tense up in fear that he’s going to take a bite out of me.

“How much you remind me of her,” Trel says, his eyes widening as he strokes my cheek with the back of his rough hand. “Oh, the things she’d let me do to her. I wonder if you’d be as complying.”

“Get off me!” I shout as I try to move myself out from under him, though I can’t move my body at all.

“The daughter of Delphi will make such a nice conquest, don’t you think?”

“I’m not his daughter,” I respond, gritting my teeth.

“As I said, my child didn’t succumb to his prowess. Delphi’s seed had been dormant inside your mother until the day your brother was conceived.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Michael is the only true child of James and Elena, which makes him my grandson. You, my dear, are the daughter of Katrina and Delphi. Elena simply carried you into existence, but she’s not your real mother. Katrina was pregnant with Elena when Delphi wormed his way in, concealing his mark until the correct generation came around.”

My body wants to shiver from the truth I know he’s telling me. Somehow, Trel’s words ring true.

“You, Aven,” he continues, lust thick in his voice. “I have no familial claim to. Not yet, anyway.” He locks his eyes onto mine. “Give in to your fate even as darkness shines, for you are the benevolent, the pure, and the divine,” Trel sings as he pushes back from me slightly. “Such poetic words for Delphi to use in describing you. Who knew he would see his offspring in such a tantalizing light?”

“I’m not his child. Besides, that chant was written before everything started.”

“True, but knowing him it was part of his plan from the very beginning. His siblings had no idea what kind of man he was, or is I should say.”

I’m about to ask a new question when Trel places his coarse finger on my lips, silencing me.

“No more talk of Delphi and the Ancients. Don’t you want to know more about me? The master you’re soon to meet?”

I don’t want to play his game, yet I feel I don’t have a choice at this moment. I’m hoping Zander can find me soon, wherever I am.

“Who was the person who injected me with your poison?”

“Such harsh words,” Trel hisses. “It’s not poison at all, love, but the main ingredient to everlasting life.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

His gaze turns cold. “An old friend of mine. A fallen Guardian who owed me a favor for sparing his life.”

“I want his name,” I say, my voice getting slightly stronger.

“You already know his name, and you’ll soon be able to put a face to it.”

Pain rips through my sides as Trel begins to torture me for his amusement. I can’t cry out, as I’ve lost my voice. My head begins to pound as my flesh shreds and blood pours from my wounds, and I collapse as the agony overwhelms me.

Light finally returns to my surroundings sometime later. My clothes are drenched with sweat and I nearly plant my face into Zander’s when I abruptly sit up. I’m still in the cottage. The gaslights dance behind the glass to an invisible breeze. My heart feels as if it’s inches outside my chest.

“What… happened?” I finally stammer out.

“You set off the raider alarm. I told you it was debilitating.” He puts his arm around my back and gently moves me over to the couch.

“How long was I out?”

“Several hours. We need to leave in the next couple of minutes if we’re to meet up with Prime Jarron.”

I nod my head and Zander retreats to the kitchen, emerging several minutes later with all our bags strapped around his muscular frame. He helps me to my feet, removes the raider alarm, and opens the door. The snow has thickened. I don’t have my coat on, but I’m much too warm right now to wear it.

The door to the cottage closes behind us and the lights automatically extinguish. Zander has to practically drag me along the ridge, since my legs have no desire to function. I still sense Trel lurking in my mind, though the sensation begins to subside the farther away we get.

We take a break an hour later where I don my coat, eat a small snack, and begin walking on my own. Another hour passes before we begin to turn north. The terrain is steeper here, which makes climbing harder, but does eventually level off. We don’t start heading east again until we’re right along the cliff edge. Water crashes below us, but I can’t see much of the sea in the dark. Zander has to take my hand as I’ve started falling behind. I haven’t recovered from setting off the alarm, or from my encounter with Trel… if that was even real.

I feel so out of it that I begin seeing small lights dance in the distance. The closer we get to the cluster, the faster they spin. My eyes begin to hurt from their erratic behavior, and I’m trying to sit down on the snow-covered ground when Zander and I are pulled into a warmth I haven’t experienced in a long time. Our feet are no longer buried in the snow, but instead are settled firmly on an iron platform with a slight tint of copper interwoven into the metal. Before us stands an enormous iron and copper tree with two massive outcroppings. The base of the tree is at least one hundred feet in circumference. The trunk of the structure delicately surrounds an elevator shaft, with an open carriage waiting for us on ground level.

We step forward as well-hidden doors part, allowing us access to the elevator. There are only two decks listed, so Zander selects the first one. As we sail skyward, I notice our location has changed. We’re no longer along the cliff but somewhere out over the open water, hovering in midair.

“I don’t know if I like this,” I say out loud, even though I meant to only think it.

“It’ll be fine. We’re safe here,” Zander says, squeezing my hand.

The elevator stops, and the door opens onto a ledge that rests between it and the first deck. We step across, enter through the graceful doors, and are greeted with emptiness. Zander takes our things over to a collection of beds on the far right side of the expanse. My eyes roam the structure, taking in its unique design. The entire deck rests on one side of the elevator shaft. The walls look like branches, which extend around the entire deck and ceiling, encapsulating it. There are sporadic gaps between the branches, probably to act as windows, but I don’t see any glass. Much of the floor is covered in carpet, with dark cherry wood winding around to the various areas. Everything is centered around a solid copper cylinder, which is probably meant more for structure than aesthetics.

A vast library encompasses much of the right side, with a living room directly to my left. The furnishings all look to be made of the same dark cherry as the floor, with copper accents so it blends into the structure. Just beyond the library sit six single, empty beds, all perfectly made and don’t look to have been used for ages. Zander emerges from what looks like the bathroom, which is angled in the corner of the bed area. A solid copper wall makes up the back end of the expanse.

“That’s Jarron’s room,” Zander says, pointing to the closed door. “I thought for sure he would’ve met us down here. He must be on the observation deck.”

I continue my stroll around the cylinder and into a vast kitchen. The dark cherry and copper theme continues, right down to the fixtures.

“This is the watchtower?” I ask, making my way back over to Zander.

“Yes. It’s constructed so it can blend in easily. Copper is an excellent conductor for magic, so it makes it very easy to cast a concealment charm on the structure. Come on, let’s go find Jarron.”

We go back to the elevator and take it all the way to the top, popping out of the back corner. The construction of this deck is identical to the first, only on a much grander scale. The floor is completely wooden, as are the various stations that line the walls. Directly in front of us is an oblong table, with seven chairs evenly placed around it. Attached along the wall to the right of that is a large number of monitors, all displaying something different. Across the span in the right corner is a heavily-draped workbench, but I do notice pieces of shattered frames jutting out along the bottom. To the left of that is a long table covered in papers, many of them spilling onto the floor. Just beside that, to the left of the elevator, is an expansive map of Comoros. It looks like a combination of the maps from the black and blue discs, but with much better detail.

A man I assume to be Prime Jarron is standing in front of the map, his arms clasped behind his back, shoulders stiff, and head tilted slightly up.

“What happened, Zander?” Jarron asks without turning around.

“I don’t know,” Zander responds, his voice surprisingly weak. “Everything was progressing as it should’ve been.”

“Ceri was a good Guardian,” Jarron states. “I hope her death was quick.”

“So she is dead?” Zander asks with a hint of skepticism.

Jarron spins around. “She has to be. Why else is she not with Michael?”

“Maybe she was taken?” I chime in, thinking back to how the Mitris almost caught us after leaving Castra.

Jarron’s face hardens as if to stone, which only sharpens his pointy features. “Who would want to do that?”

“The Mitris,” I answer.

“They knew where we camped after leaving Castra. Somehow, they have documents that have recorded everything that happened during the last twelve cycles. Ceri would’ve been traveling alone until she reached Lertis. They could’ve easily taken her,” Zander adds.

“I’m well aware of the Mitris, Zander. I’ve been observing them for quite some time.” Jarron gestures towards the wall of monitors.

“If you’ve been watching them, then why haven’t you stopped them?” I ask, anger slipping into my voice.

Jarron glares at me, and an unsettling silence falls between us. “That’s not what I’m tasked with, Aven. The Order of Terac should’ve dealt with them long ago, but it’s too late now.” He turns his back to us and refocuses on the map. “Anyway, I’m more concerned about getting the prophecy reconciled than with some tiresome insects.”

“I wouldn’t so simply dismiss the Mitris if I were you,” I respond. “They purposefully murdered citizens in Delphi and its villages just to turn things their way.”

“Yes, I know.” This time Jarron sounds genuinely sad.

“Where did they come from?” Zander asks.

Jarron hangs his head. “It seems they’ve been hiding through every single cycle. I didn’t notice them until a year ago. I have no idea where they cropped up from, how they’re avoiding predestination, or how to stop them. The only benefit they’ve brought thus far is their rounding up of Trel’s would-be followers. I haven’t had to worry too much about the Ligotas, since their numbers are dwindling.”

“What do you think Gaden Lamen wants with them?” I ask.

“That’s one of the reasons I called you here. The other is to find Ceri. I believe the two are connected somehow.”

SIXTEEN

Zander and I step closer to the map, flanking Jarron. It’s now that I notice a small pedestal emerging from the floor in front of Jarron. I catch only a brief glimpse of it before the sleeves from Jarron’s robes block it from view. His fingers dance in front of him and a section of the map is enlarged, focusing on the hamlet of Welding.

“This was the last place I was able to track Ceri to,” Jarron says, crossing his arms over his chest. “She would’ve been here for only a few days while Michael was in the Acad Fields. The two should’ve joined up in Lertis, but I can’t find any trace of her there.”

“What were the Mitris’ locations at the time she disappeared?” Zander asks.

Jarron moves his fingers again, causing what look like hot spots to pop up all across Comoros. “The main concentration of Mitris was in the City of Delphi at the time, but there was a small band on the outskirts of Welding. As you can see, they’ve spread far from the City of Terac, where I believe they originated.”

“Why there?” I ask.

“That’s where I first noticed them, or at least a large group of them.”

“What about the Ligotas?” Zander asks.

Again, Jarron maneuvers his fingers over the pedestal, which causes small yellow dots to appear sporadically. There looks to be several dozen or so, but as we focus on them one dot in the City of Reinga vanishes in the same location as a cluster of Mitris.

“At the time Ceri was in Welding, there weren’t any Ligotas around,” Jarron says as another dot disappears from Reinga.

“So the Mitris had to have taken her,” I say.

“But why would they want her?” Zander asks, bending around Jarron so he can see me. “She’s of no use to them.”

“She is if they want to twist the prophecy so it leads to their own evolution,” Jarron replies.

“We don’t even know exactly what or who they are,” Zander almost yells. “It’s too early to assume they have any thoughts of changing humanity like the Ancients do.”

“Then why else are they here!” Jarron shouts back. “Their whole purpose has to be to stop what the Ancients are trying to accomplish.”

“If that were true, wouldn’t they be aligning themselves with the Ligotas and not collecting them?” I ask, my voice also rising.

“We don’t know what they’re doing with the Ligotas!” Jarron yells. “Until we can find that out, we can speculate all day about their existence and if they have Ceri.” Jarron steps back from the pedestal and begins to head towards the elevator. “Contact Knox and see if he can find out more. I don’t think he’s working as diligently as he should be.”

Jarron steps into the elevator and vanishes through the floor. A copper sheet slides over the shaft opening, concealing it. I turn to Zander, a quizzical look on my face.

“Jarron has eyes and ears everywhere, so don’t look so surprised that he knows we sent Knox into the lion’s den,” he practically snaps at me.

“Well, the communication sphere is in my rucksack, which is down below. How do we call up the elevator to get back down there?” I ask, getting irritated.

“I’ll go get it. You stay here.”

Zander steps on a small square next to the elevator opening. The carriage arrives; he steps in and descends. I decide to take this time to snoop around, as I want to see what’s hiding behind that heavy drape. I begin by picking up the corners and pushing them slightly backwards. Cracked and burnt frames slide out. There’s at least a handful of them, which I find odd. Does this mean that the Ancients and Guardians kept changing their minds throughout the cycles?

I push on the drape, go behind it, and plummet me into complete darkness. I step back out and hunt for a light, which I find buried under some discarded journal pages. Once I’m back behind the drape, I ignite the small torch and use my hand as a shield to protect the flame and the paintings. Ripped canvas, spilled paint, and scorched wood cover the entire space. I head under a small alcove, which leads into a chamber that I didn’t imagine could exist in such a cramped space. Twelve paintings cover the walls. Painting number four is noticeably altered – the image of Dean Rae is much darker than the rest of the painting. It was probably done that way so the others would change appropriately.

I move on to number five, which is the one of Zander and me going into the mirror. Number six is in focus, bright, and explicit. I almost do a double take just to make sure I’m seeing it correctly.

Zander and I are entangled at what appears to be the height of lovemaking. The image is very graphic, and doesn’t leave much to the imagination. I can feel my cheeks blushing and a heat rising, but I can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or anger. Not in my lifetime would I sleep with Zander. He’s not my type, I find him annoying, and what would be the point? Everything in the pictures so far have had a reason… a meaning. This one couldn’t possibly have any of that, so why create it? I shake my head and move on to the next one, but before my eyes can focus on it the paint flares, almost blinding me. I drop the torch, which extinguishes the flame, then I run out of the chamber and onto the main deck. Zander is standing with his arms crossed, his face a bright red, and steam practically coming out of his ears.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he reprimands me.

“I didn’t see anything I haven’t already,” I comment as I rub my eyes.

“Uh-huh. I know exactly what you saw, and that the other paintings flashed because they knew you were trying to look at them.”

“I needed to know. I hate not having any clue as to what’s coming. I want to be prepared. Can you blame me?”

“Yes, Aven, I can. Once again your selfish behavior has diverted your focus from the main objective. It still baffles me why the Ancients chose you of all people,” he snaps.

“What the hell, Zander!” I yell back. “You’ve done nothing but criticize me from the moment we met. So what if I try to see into what’s coming? Maybe if you were more forthcoming with information I wouldn’t have to snoop. I’m sick and tired of being kept in the dark. Fuck the Ancients and their prophecy! I’m done!”

I storm off to the elevator and take it down to the first deck. Jarron is sitting in the library with a tattered old book in his hands. He doesn’t say a word to me, but simply follows me with his eyes. I grab my bags, strap them over my shoulders, and go back to the elevator. Only I can’t get to the carriage since Zander is standing on the platform, blocking my path.

“You can’t leave,” he says, anger still heavy in his tone.

“You’re not going to stop me.”

“Well, then, you’ll have a long way down since we’re still over the Grynden Sea. The jagged rocks below won’t be kind to your body.”

Shit, I forgot.

I take several deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. “Why are you so hateful towards me?” I ask once my voice stops shaking.

“I don’t hate you,” Zander replies in a low voice. “I just want this to be over with.”

“Were you this hostile towards me the other times?”

He looks shocked by the question. Maybe he never really thought about it in that way before.

“No, never.”

“Then why now?”

“It’s complicated.” He brushes past me and heads towards Jarron’s bedroom.

I close my eyes, shaking my head. I then turn around and follow him, shutting the door so we can have some privacy, even though I’m sure Jarron already knows what we’re going to discuss since he has eyes and ears everywhere, according to Zander.

“Why? Why is it complicated?” I ask, setting my bags down.

“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” he says, turning away from me.

“Then tell me.”

“Why? Our lives have already been predetermined, and nothing I say now will change that.”

“Things have already changed, Zander. Take a look around. We’re not supposed to be in the watchtower, yet here we are. Ceri is missing, Michael is stuck in Lertis, and Gaden Lamen is taking over Comoros. If we’re to make sure the Ancients get their way, then we need to adjust along with everything else. If you haven’t noticed, we haven’t gotten very far in my training or moving this damn plan along. We’ve been spinning our wheels because you’ve been reluctant to tell me anything. Knox has been more willing to go with the flow than you have, and I wonder why that is.”

I snap at that last part.

Anger has risen in me from a place I don’t want to acknowledge. I know it has something to do with what Trel told me about my transition starting, but I still refuse to accept it. I’m brutally fighting myself internally. My mind says to charge, to demolish everything I see, including Zander. I want to lash out and make him hurt, punish him for feelings that he may or may not have. The rage begins to boil over, causing the room to spin.

“Very good, Aven. Let us in,” Trel whispers in my head.

I collapse to the floor, landing hard against the wall in the process. Zander is kneeling beside me in seconds, confusion on his face as to what just happened. I try to push him off me, to get him as far away from me as possible before I actually get violent, but his grip on my arms is too tight.

“You know what needs to be done,” Trel says. “Do it and you will be free from Delphi and the Ancients. Your life will be mine, as it was meant to be.”

I hold my head and try to push Trel out of my mind.

Zander leans in closer, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. The only sound is that of my heart beating rapidly and the blood rushing violently through my body. I finally find the strength and shove Zander away. He falls against the bed, a look of shock on his face.

“Tell me,” he says once he’s regained his composure, though he stays against the bed on the floor.

“I…I can’t,” I stammer as the noise becomes louder, causing tears to well in my eyes.

Zander crawls over to me, but doesn’t touch me. He simply sits by my knees, his hands on his thighs.

“Yes, you can. I’m your Guardian, Aven. My job is to protect you no matter what.”

“It’s too late,” I mumble. “Everything is too late.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

I finally look up at him. “He poisoned me, Zander. The injection that made me ill is changing me into one of them, and I can’t stop it.”

“You know who injected you? I thought you didn’t get a good look at his face.”

“I didn’t, but his eyes gave him away.”

Zander raises his head slightly, his eyes focusing in the direction of Prime Jarron.

“You can’t be serious,” Zander utters, dropping his head.

“A fallen Guardian who has sided with the Ligotas,” I say, rambling.

Zander stands, pulls the door open, and charges into the library.

I lean around the doorframe to catch what’s going on since I’m too weak to stand on my own.

Jarron sets his book down and is in the process of getting up from his seat when Zander casts a spell that binds him to the chair. I would think Jarron would be appalled by what Zander just did, but his face stays stone cold.

“Showing Aven how to cast an enchainment hex, are you?” Jarron asks with thick sarcasm.

“Why’d you do it?” Zander yells, grabbing Jarron by the collar.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jarron says calmly, a slight smile on his lips.

“You’re the one who injected Aven the month before her mother died. Admit it.”

“I admit to no such thing. This woman seems to have corrupted you, Zander. She’s got you believing in fairytales.”

Zander punches Jarron in the jaw, which I can hear from across the room.

“Aven’s never lied to me,” Zander says, practically spitting on Jarron. “Why would she start with a lie about you?”

“Obviously the strain of being reborn several times over has taken its toll on her mental stability,” Jarron responds, his voice still calm and collected. “I might question yours as well, since you’ve never turned on your leader before.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

Zander steps back and slowly paces around the library, rubbing his temples as if to get his thoughts straight. I finally get my strength back, stand, and dig around in my rucksack for my knife before joining the two of them. I keep the weapon concealed in my back pocket.

“Why’d you do it?” I ask.

“As I told Zander, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

My mind is working faster than I can process things. I go back into the bedroom, remove the flyer I collected in Castra, and return to the library. I hand Zander the paper, grab Jarron’s right wrist, and shove his sleeves up. Jarron tries to fight me off, but with the enchainment hex he can barely move. Burned into the inside of his right wrist are snakes tied into knots… the Ligotas symbol.

Zander turns the page around so Jarron can read the inscription; I step over next to Zander and nonchalantly remove the knife from my pocket. Jarron’s face pales at the words and the rendering at the bottom of the page.

“Why?” Zander asks, tossing the paper into Jarron’s lap.

The room turns icy as my legs freeze in place. I notice Zander is having the same issue. We both turn to look at Jarron who is now standing in front of the chair.

“Being stuck in this watchtower for the last couple of centuries, watching the same scenarios play out again and again, can mess with one’s mind,” Jarron says, glaring at the two of us. “I’ve done nothing but watch as one cycle after another repeat itself, all to get to this one moment in time, and for what? The Ligotas offer more than the Ancients ever will. Do you actually think that the Guardians will evolve with the Sacrer favorites? We’re meant to perish with everyone else and be absorbed into the black abyss of the underworld. Well, if that’s where I’m going I might as well do it on my terms, not theirs.”

“How’d they… get to you?” Zander asks, struggling to get the words out.

“It wasn’t easy, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Jarron replies as he begins to weave between the two of us. “It took a lot of persuading, bargaining, and seduction to get me to turn on the Ancients.” Jarron stops next to me and leans close to my ear. “You, my dear, were the trophy. I told Trel what I could do for him in regard to you and he bent to my will, giving me everything I asked for and then some.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zander yells before I can.

“If I successfully deliver Aven to Trel, I get my choice of city to rule and lovers to keep.” The words drip from Jarron’s tongue like honey. “That’s much better than burning in Hell for all eternity, don’t you think?”

“He’s not getting me,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I’m afraid it’s too late, Aven. Your transition into a Ligotas will be a slow and painful one, but you’re changing and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop it.”

“Why change her at all?” Zander asks, getting more furious by the second.

Jarron turns and faces Zander. “Has Aven not told you?” he asks, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I thought she never lies to you, and now here she is holding back vital information. Shame on you, Aven, for stringing this lovesick boy around all these centuries.”

“It’s not true!” I shout, more out of anger than to actually be heard. “He lied. He was lying. He had to have been.” My stomach begins to cramp, but I can’t move to make the pain go away. Tears begin to stream down my cheeks. I was so hoping Trel was lying, that he was making it all up.

“Tell him, Aven,” Jarron says, brushing the hair from my eyes.

“It’s not true,” I murmur, my voice full of emotion.

“Oh, but I’m afraid it is. Delphi told me himself what he’d done to Katrina.”

“He killed Trel’s child,” Zander says. “We already knew that.”

“Oh, but he didn’t. You see, Zander, Trel’s child lived as it was supposed to. She grew up with her mother, and when the time was right she met James and married him. It was at Michael’s conception that Delphi’s true plans came to fruition. Aven here is the daughter of Delphi and Katrina. Secretly concealed in Elena’s body until the appropriate time,” Jarron says, sweeping his hands over me. “Trel told you all this, so why didn’t you say anything to Zander?”

“When…when did this happen?” Zander asks, his eyes widening.

“When I set off the raider alarm. He seeped into my mind while I was unconscious, and he’s been haunting me ever since.”

“He’ll continue to be with you mentally until he can join you physically,” Jarron says, stepping forward until he’s standing before us once again. “Turning the daughter of the powerful Delphi into a Trel-follower and lover is the Ligotas’ ultimate corruption. Such a perfect way to exact revenge.”

“How’d Trel find out about Aven?” Zander asks, anger once again entering his voice.

“I was the only one who knew about the violation Delphi had committed against his own siblings, so I let the information slip to Trel during one of our… conversations. He was very pleased with the information, and even rewarded me for it.” Jarron opens the robes around his chest, exposing a long chain with a thick, intricately-designed locket dangling at the bottom. Jarron grabs the chain and raises the locket to eye level. “This is a replica locket. It’s a Ligotas relic, which allows its wearer to transform into whoever they want.” He unclasps the relic and the smell it emits causes Zander and me to retch. Jarron removes the dried piece of skin hidden inside, shows it to us, and then puts it back. “Of course, you have to have a piece of someone in order to get the locket to work. This young man was a drifter. He met his death ages ago.”

Jarron closes his eyes and the locket begins to glow red. Within seconds he’s transformed into the blond-haired man I ran into on the bridge leaving the City of Delphi. He lets the image only last a few seconds before changing back into himself.

“It’s a wonderful invention that Trel created before his exile. He’s made several handy little trinkets, or relics as the Ligotas call them. They’re scattered about the region, very well-hidden, and only given to those who prove themselves worthy, like me,” Jarron says, closing his robes.

“What are you going to do with us?” Zander asks.

“I’m to keep you here with me until Trel has risen, which should be in the next few days if everything goes according to plan.”

If I am the daughter of the Ancient Delphi, than I should have his abilities. I just need to focus on the spells.

“How will he be brought back?” I ask in order to distract Jarron, as my mind begins to intertwine runes.

“Only a full Ligotas, or what is now called a progressed Ligotas, can enter the underworld. That fortunate soul has yet to discover the blessing bestowed upon them.”

“Who is it?” Zander asks.

“You already know,” Jarron says, turning his back to us.

I feel heat building in my fingers and a tingling sensation flowing up my arm. As Zander said, if Jarron is like all the other Guardians, he’ll be wearing a set of Kerai Couplings in order to work his magic. I’m hoping the locket doesn’t change those dynamics.

The longer I concentrate, the more my head hurts. The knife handle begins to change, to thicken as weight is added.

Jarron sits in his chair, a smug look on his face.

I use all of my strength and finally begin to free myself from his spell. Pain flows through my muscles and bones as the spell begins to wane. I try not to show the agony I’m putting myself in, but with each passing second it’s becoming harder to conceal. I finally scream out from the torture as I move my arms and swing them over my head, bringing the ax I’m now holding down on Jarron’s wrist, severing his hand. I quickly do the same thing to his other hand, which releases Zander and me. I drop the ax and it changes back into my knife. Jarron writhes from the pain and blood loss.

“How…how did you do that?” Jarron asks, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“Daughter of Delphi, remember?” I respond with a grimace.

Zander runs into the bathroom, returning with towels to help stem the bleeding. I drop to the floor, exhaustion taking over. I stare at the ceiling while Zander tends to Jarron. Everything hurts, and the pain doesn’t seem to be subsiding. I turn my head to look at the two of them.

“Why didn’t you take the injection?” I ask Jarron.

He glares down at me. “It wasn’t offered to me,” he answers with contempt.

“What does the injection do?” Zander asks as he continues to wrap Jarron’s severed arms.

“Besides make you a monster?” Jarron responds with a devilish grin.

“Immortality,” escapes from my lips. “It gives you immortality.”

“What did the injection consist of?” Zander asks, focusing his attention away from me.

“I guess there’s no harm in telling you now,” Jarron says before taking a deep breath, “since it’s too late to revert. The blood of a deceased Ligotas. It’s said that the mortality of one can bring the immortality of another.”

“Whose blood was I injected with?” I ask, my breathing becoming slightly labored.

Jarron moves so his gaze is focused squarely on my face. “Trel’s.”

“But he isn’t a full Ligotas,” I respond.

“Isn’t he?” Jarron says with a sneer on his face. “He was bound to Valora, and I doubt she wanted to be trapped with a human for all eternity. She despises them. He’s her little toy now. The puppet for an immortal master. Soon, Aven, you will be a puppet too, and Trel will be your master.”

Zander slams Jarron onto the floor, banging his head against the hard wood. “Nothing is going to happen to Aven. Trel will stay in the underworld and everything will progress as planned.”

Jarron turns his attention towards Zander. “If saying such lies gives you comfort, then please go ahead and believe them.”

Zander punches Jarron again, this time knocking him out. I’m still lying on my back as Zander comes over and picks me up. He takes me into Jarron’s bedroom and places me gently on the soft covers. The pain is still all consuming, so Zander goes into the bathroom and returns with some medication, which he has to help me take. My eyelids grow heavy, but I fight to keep them open.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I whisper.

“We can fix this. I can fix this,” Zander says, busying himself with the blankets. “Just get some rest; we’ll figure this out later.”

“It’s too late,” I mumble as my eyes close and sleep takes over.

SEVENTEEN

My sleep is restless. I keep fearing Trel will make another appearance and cause me more agony. I finally open my eyes after only what feels like minutes’ worth of sleep, but since the sun has started to rise I figure I must have been out for at least a couple of hours. When I emerge from the bedroom Zander is in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Jarron is nowhere in sight.

“Where is he?” I ask as I take a seat at the counter.

“I locked him in the bathroom,” Zander responds, pointing to the room behind me.

“Why are you keeping him alive?”

“Just in case,” is all he says before turning his back to me and continuing with the meal preparation.

“Did you get a hold of Knox?”

“No, and I couldn’t leave him a message either since I don’t know how to use that stupid thing. Dean Chares did contact me. He said that Knox was taken from Otrar and is probably now in the City of Terac with the other Ligotas captures.”

“Then that’s where we need to go.”

“Take a look outside – we’re already there.”

I get down from the stool and wander over to one of the gaps between the branches. The city that lies before us consists of large cinder block buildings with very few windows, and barbed wire around every rooftop and fence. Since I’ve never visited it, I’m not sure if the City of Terac has always looked like this, or if this is a Mitris development.

“Which building is Knox being held in?” I ask, retaking my seat.

“I’m not sure, but we can get a better idea of the city’s layout from the map up on the second deck. First, you need to eat.”

He dishes scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast onto a plate for me before pouring a tall glass of orange juice. I can’t remember the last time I ate, and I try to take my time consuming the food so I don’t make myself sick.

“When do we begin looking for Ceri? We can’t keep Michael in Lertis forever,” I say after finishing my last bite.

“As soon as we know Knox is safe, we can focus on her. Dean Rae will make sure Michael doesn’t go anywhere, so I’m not too worried about him at the moment.”

We clean up the mess then go up to the top deck. Zander approaches the pedestal and concentrates on the map of the city. It’s laid out in a square pattern, surrounded by a high stone wall, much like the one around Castra. The watchtower is positioned in the southwest corner, practically hugging the outer wall. To the north are two smaller buildings surrounded by high wire fencing, their entrances guarded by several Terac officers. Along the wall to the east are a couple of rectangular buildings, with sporadic windows along the width of their three stories. To the left of them, and just off-center, are two L-shaped buildings. In the middle of the whole city is a large fire pit with a charred pole sticking out from the center of it.

My stomach sinks when thoughts of what that stake could possibly be used for fly into my head. I have to step away in order to get the images to clear. Zander zooms out, enlarging the map before coming over to me.

“You all right?” he asks, placing his hand on my back.

“They burn them,” I say. “That fire pit is so they can burn the Ligotas.”

“You don’t know that for sure, so I wouldn’t jump to conclusions if I were you.”

“Why would they do that? What would be the purpose?” I continue, ignoring him.

“That’s what we’re here to find out. Come on, let’s go back down to the other deck and get prepared.”

We take the elevator down, but I’m not sure what we can prepare for. It’s not like we can just waltz out of the watchtower and casually stroll by everyone. Gaden Lamen is looking for me, so I’m on everyone’s radar.

Zander heads for Jarron’s bedroom, so I follow on his heels. He rummages through the closet across from the bathroom and removes two Terac uniforms.

“How’d he have these?” I ask as Zander hands me one.

“A couple of the Guardians are Terac officers, so they keep some spare uniforms here.”

“How many Guardians are there?”

“Six, not including Jarron.”

“We have you and Ceri, then the two Terac officers, so where are the two remaining Guardians?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he says, sidestepping away from me and back out into the main area.

“More secrets. Great,” I grumble.

“It’s for their protection, Aven, not yours,” he snaps.

“I really wish you’d stop biting my head off. Why are you so venomous towards me? You never did answer my earlier question.”

“It’s complicated.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He spins around, which almost causes us to collide. “Fine, you want to know? It’s because of you… the prophecy… everything. This is the end, the last go around, and I lose when all is finished. Jarron was telling you the truth in regard to that. You live, while I wind up in the underworld.”

“Why would the Ancients do that to you?” I ask, utterly stunned by his admission. “They need you to fulfill their prophecy.”

He hangs his head, but only for a few seconds. “I messed up, and it’s my fault the others will be punished.” He rubs his hands over his face and takes in a deep breath. “The Ancients have this rule for the Guardians: we’re to maintain impartiality and do as we’re told. If we follow their exact directions, then we get to move on like the rest of the Sacrer religion. But I fucked up big time and now they all must pay the price.”

“What’d you do?” I ask.

He lifts his head so our eyes meet. “I fell in love with you.”

I’m stunned by what he says, as well as how he says it without any hesitation.

“I broke the one golden rule, which was to have no emotional connection to you, or anyone for that matter. Spending so much time with you throughout the cycles, it was hard not to get attached. I was able to manage before because I always knew you were coming back, but this time –”

I can’t think of anything to say. My mind is blank.

“Well, say something. Don’t just stand there and let me look like a fucking idiot.”

I open my mouth to respond, when a piercing scream echoes through the walls. We dart out to the platform and can barely see the fire that has taken hold of the pit in the center of the city. We hurry up to the top deck and Zander focuses the map on the location of the fire. The woman’s screams fill the air as her body writhes among the flames. She’s bound to the pole as her flesh melts. There’s only a small group of onlookers, but I recognize two of them immediately: Gaden Lamen and Grey Coulson.

“We need to get to Knox,” Zander says, nudging me in the arm.

We go back to the first deck and don the uniforms. Zander grabs his crossbow and arrows from his belongings. The only weapon I have to defend myself with is the pocketknife. I tuck it into the pocket of the trench coat and am about to exit when Zander stops me.

“I need to quickly show you how to conjure a protection shield,” he says, pulling me towards the group of beds where the spell book still lies. He takes it out of the rucksack and hastily flips through the pages until he finds what he’s looking for. “This is a very simple spell. It’ll protect you from all manmade weapons, so if the Mitris or Teracs fire on you nothing will penetrate the shield.”

He has me practice it a few times. I get it right the first time, but he has me do it at least four more times just to make sure. The spell generates a large Sacrer symbol that floats around my body in green smoke. The trick to maintaining it consistently is to continuously twirl my left wrist clockwise. That’s going to be the tricky part to remember. Zander quickly puts a raider alarm on the bathroom door, barring Jarron from any attempt at escape.

We manage to exit the watchtower unnoticed and slowly make our way over to the L-shaped buildings. We maneuver between the two buildings trying to avoid detection. The closer we get to the fire pit, the stronger the odor of burnt flesh becomes. The woman’s screams have long since ended, and she’s now only scorched bone and fabric. Zander holds up his hand and I halt my progress. I feel as if I’m about to lose my breakfast from the sight of the incinerated corpse, so I do everything I can to maintain my composure. A group of Mitris walk past us in casual discussion, as if the display of a charred corpse is an everyday occurrence.

“Come on,” Zander says, nodding for me to follow.

“I’ll get recognized in a second,” I say, grabbing his arm in order to stop his momentum. “The uniform only does so much. They know what I look like.”

“I thought of that.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the replica locket. “Put this on and think of the illusion spell.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say, taking the object begrudgingly.

I slip it around my neck, tuck it under my trench coat, and concentrate on the spell. A yellow shimmer appears around me briefly, then vanishes. Zander smiles, so I’m guessing the locket is working.

We exit onto the main avenue of the city and pass right by Gaden Lamen without him blinking an eye. Our destination looks to be the two buildings along the north wall. There’s only one guard at each door, so at least that makes things a little simpler, but I have no idea what we’ll need to do to get inside. The closer we get to the building on our right, the more nervous I become. The guard begins to approach us then suddenly stops as Zander passes him and enters the building.

“What did you use on him?” I whisper once we’re inside and the door is closed.

“A hypnotic charm. It only lasts about five minutes, but the person has no memory of the incident when the charm wears off,” he replies as he slowly makes his way down the poorly-lit hallway.

Narrow doors line the interior, each one with a tiny window with bars set into it. We peer inside each one, but only a couple have occupants, and none is Knox. We move onto the next building. I cast the charm this time before we enter. The layout is the same as the other building, but there are more people in this one. Moans fill the air, along with weeping.

“What if he’s not here?” I ask, trying to hide the panic in my voice.

“He has to be here.”

“Zander?” a tired male voice sails across the air like a gentle breeze.

A dark arm pops out of one of the cell doors at the back, followed by a familiar face.

“We’re getting you out of here,” Zander says.

He removes one of his arrows and uses the illusion spell to change it into a skeleton key. He opens the door, and I catch Knox as he practically falls out of the room. Knox is startled by my appearance, but Zander assures him it’s me. We move up to the entrance and stop.

“How are we going to get him across the street?” I ask, Knox’s arm draped over my shoulders.

“Give him to me,” Zander says, putting an arm around Knox.

I remove my trench coat and place it over Knox, while Zander applies the illusion charm. I tuck the locket under my shirt to hide its red glow then open the door, and we head outside. The streets are eerily empty, with the exception of the guards. We move as fast as possible towards the watchtower, checking our surroundings with every step.

No one follows us.

We reach the main platform and are swept up onto it. The moment we’re back on the first deck Zander drops Knox onto one of the couches in the library, then hastily goes up top to change our location. I go into Jarron’s bathroom, remove the locket, and grab bandages to treat Knox’s wounds. Zander returns a few minutes later, sweat pouring down his face.

“Where’d you send us?” I ask, dabbing at the deep gouges down Knox’s arms.

“We’re a few miles north of Welding,” he says, collapsing onto a chair close to us.

“I don’t like it,” I say, changing out the cloth for ointment. “It was too easy. Why wasn’t anyone outside like they were when we first entered the city?”

“I don’t know, but it is worrisome,” Zander responds.

“Worrisome? Is that all you can say? The Mitris don’t give up that easily. They let us take him,” I say, my anger and rage again starting to get the best of me.

“No shit, Aven. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Zander gets up and storms into Jarron’s bedroom, slamming the door.

Knox looks down at me since I’m sitting on the floor. “I see you two are still fighting,” he comments with a slight smile.

“Yeah, nothing’s changed in that department.” I put the ointment away and start to bandage his wounds. “What happened?”

“They were training us to be Mitris, along with the Terac officers. Then one night, everything changed.” Knox leans his head back, closes his eyes, and sighs before continuing. “Gaden Lamen had been traveling to the City of Parime, leaving Grey Coulson in charge of the new group. Grey’s sole focus was finding you and Michael despite what Gaden had instructed him to do. Grey thought I might know how to locate the two of you since he knew I’ve been through the previous cycles.”

“Wait, he knew about those?”

“Yes, Gaden Lamen has papers documenting everything that occurred during all twelve cycles and the time before the prophecy. He makes sure that every new Mitris studies up on the subject.”

“Did Grey ever tell Gaden about your connection with everything?”

“Yes, and that’s when everything changed.” Knox tries to clear his throat and coughs. “Can I have some water?”

I go to the kitchen and fetch him a glass. As I hand it to him Zander remerges from the bedroom, freshly scrubbed and in clean clothes. He removes the raider alarm from the other bathroom and steps inside, locking the door behind him. I turn my attention back to Knox, though I keep an eye on the bathroom door.

“They brought me here several days ago, right after I sent you that message. They needed me to identify someone they’d captured in Welding.”

“Ceri,” I say before he can.

He nods. “She was roughed up pretty badly. I tried not to show any recognition towards her, but she called me by name. She had no idea what had been happening since she’d left the watchtower, so she wasn’t prepared for what they did to her.” Knox takes another deep breath; this one rattles his body. “After hours of torture, they noticed the couplings on her wrists, and when they asked her about them she just brushed it off as nothing but common jewelry. Gaden Lamen then whipped out the missing tome and dropped it into her lap. She denied knowing what it was at first, but then she went to cast a spell and it backfired, killing her instantly.”

“How is that possible?” Zander asks from the doorway, a drenched red towel clutched in his hands.

“He has it, Zander. Gaden Lamen has the amulet, but he doesn’t know how it works,” Knox says, anxiety rising in his voice.

“And he needs a Ligotas or an Ancient to show him,” I say.

“Yes, but none of the current Ligotas know how to work it… except me,” Knox says. His body begins to tremble. “I refused to help, so they began to burn the others alive, hoping I would give in. I never did.” Tears form in Knox’s eyes. “I kept my promise, Zander. I’m helping with the prophecy just like I said I would.”

Zander kneels in front of Knox and places his hand on the man’s forehead, which is now covered in sweat.

“I know, my friend. You did well.”

“Is that why they let us take him? So we’ll unknowingly lead them to someone who will be easier to manipulate?” I ask.

“Probably,” Zander responds. “But they can’t track the watchtower, no matter what detection devices they may have.”

Knox trembles, so I get him a blanket from one of the empty beds and wrap it around him. I rub his arms, trying to stimulate warmth, but he is becoming colder by the second.

“What happened to the couplings Ceri was carrying for Michael?” I ask in an attempt to distract him from his deteriorating body.

“Grey Coulson has them. He keeps them as a keepsake in the hopes of giving them to Leo.”

“Leo’s not with them?” I ask, surprised by the news.

“No one has seen him since he went searching for you in Parime,” Knox replies, in a weary voice.

“What about the ones Ceri was wearing?” Zander asks.

“Grey wears them now. He’s more determined more than ever to find Aven and Michael, especially now that he knows what their lives are meant for. He wants Leo to take Michael’s place and Aven to die alongside her brother. Gaden Lamen wants to learn the Ancients’ magic, but other than that I can’t figure the guy out.”

Knox’s skin grows pale and cool.

“I’m going to close my eyes now for a while. I’m so tired,” he says, leaning over so he’s lying on the couch. Within seconds his eyes are shut and his breathing shallow.

“What do you think is happening to him?” I ask, tucking the blanket around him.

“He told us he was injected with something, so maybe that’s it.”

“But he said they all were, even the Terac officers. It has to be something else.”

I stand and am about to head into the bedroom to change when Zander stops me.

“Here,” he says, lifting my hand and placing the locket in it. “Keep this close to you.”

“Do I even want to know what’s in here?”

“No, you don’t.”

He retreats to the other bathroom, once again locking the door behind him. I go into Jarron’s bedroom, place the locket in my rucksack, grab a change of clothes, and go take a shower. I feel disgusted by the whole experience of the day and am worried about what’s killing Knox. It’s obvious he’s dying, but why, and from what? Gaden Lamen wouldn’t have anything to gain from his death. In fact, he needs Knox to work the locket. Neither Michael nor I know how to do it. Only Knox would since he saw Trel use it. Not even a Guardian would, so Zander should be safe for the time being.

I sit on the floor of the shower, pull my knees up to my chest, and just let the water rain over me. I feel numb. All my emotions have been spent. My eyes want to close, but I won’t let them. I’m afraid to sleep now. I don’t want Trel invading my mind anymore.

I finish showering, dry off, and put on my fresh clothes, then run my fingers through my hair and go back out into the main area. Knox is fast asleep. His breathing having leveled off. Zander is in the kitchen, pouring himself a drink from a square bottle. He picks up a small glass, sets it down in front of me, and pours.

“You need this,” he says, pointing to the caramel-colored liquid.

“What is it?” I ask, hesitant about taking it.

“It’s Scotch, which is a hell of a lot better than ale,” he replies, then gulps his drink down in one shot.

I take a sip of mine and wait for a horrid taste, but it glides down my throat like water, making my insides feel as if they’re glowing. I set the glass down so he can refill it. I swallow its contents quickly and ask for more.

“You need to be careful with this stuff,” Zander says, his words slurring slightly. “It’ll go straight to your head if you drink it too fast.”

I’m about to chug the refill but stop myself and set the glass back down onto the counter.

“Why did you fall in love with me?” I ask.

Zander halts his drink in midair, but only briefly. “Just forget I mentioned it,” he says, slamming down his empty glass.

“I can’t. Why should I?”

He glares at me, his eyes as big as saucers. “I saw the way you perked up when Knox mentioned Leo. You still have feelings for him.”

“So what if I do? You haven’t actually presented yourself in a favorable light.”

He laughs. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since the day we met.”

“Yeah, well, I already told you why I’m like that. I can’t help it if you don’t give a shit about it.”

“I do give a shit, Zander,” I say, raising my voice. “You shouldn’t be punished for something that happens naturally.”

He moves around the counter, takes a seat on the stool next to me, and spins me so we’re face to face. “Tell me the truth. Do you still love Leo?”

“What has that got to do with anything?” I state as I try to turn myself back around, but Zander has his hands gripped firmly around my seat.

“It has to do with everything, Aven,” he replies. His words no longer slurred. “You’ve been my life for years and you don’t remember any of it. It was always Leo, but this time… I was hoping this time would be different.”

“Zander, I wish I knew what to tell you.”

“Answer my question.”

I have to think back through everything that’s happened. I wish I could remember the past so I would know the right response to give. Part of me wants to be with Leo, but only when things were normal. Now….

“No, I don’t love him.”

Zander grabs me and pulls me into him. Our lips connect and I feel the world melting. I can’t stop and I can’t let go. He guides me into the bedroom, shuts the door, and begins to undress me. Everything in this moment feels so right. Nothing has ever felt this powerful before, and I don’t want it to end. We don’t even bother to climb under the blankets. He has me over and over again. The world finally feels at peace and I feel whole.

“You’ll pay for this betrayal, Aven!” Trel shouts in my head, but I ignore him.

At this moment, I’m free from it all.

EIGHTEEN

Zander strokes my back as I lie against him. I try to simply relish the happiness that fills my body, but I know it’s not meant to last long. I’m just rolling out of bed when a loud thump shakes the entire structure. Zander and I look at each other and quickly get dressed as the watchtower rocks again, this time more violently.

“Is it Prime Jarron?” I ask, slipping my boots on.

“No, I took care of him hours ago,” Zander replies, grabbing his crossbow and arrows.

We step out into the main area to find Knox transforming. His motions are what’s making the building sway. I rush over to him. He strikes out with his arm, knocking me across the room.

The muscles in his arms, legs, and chest nearly triple in size within a few moments. The room can’t contain his bulk, which threatens the integrity of the ceiling. Heavy black wings shoot out from his shoulder blades as his feet transition into large talons and his fingers lengthen into claws. Knox turns to face us, his mouth dropped open, exposing large jagged teeth. The floor beneath us begins to collapse from the excessive weight being pressed upon it. Knox snarls at us as he steps closer. Zander readies his crossbow, an arrow pointed right at Knox’s heart, but before he can fire the weapon Knox tears a hole in the side wall, drops about twenty feet, then levels off and flies away.

“What the hell was that?” I ask as I try to get my heart out of my throat.

“They changed him. Gaden Lamen turned Knox into a full Ligotas.”

“How the hell did he do that?”

“I don’t know, but we can’t stay here.”

He grabs my arm and practically drags me back to the bedroom. We gather our belongings and bolt for the elevator. We’re halfway down when we begin to take fire from Teracs. Some are using mercenary rifles, while others have the traditional high-tech rifles, which shoot pulse emitters.

“Use the shield I showed you,” Zander says as the elevator comes to a jarring halt a few feet shy from the bottom.

I work on placing the shield around the both of us while he pries the elevator doors open. Once we’re on the base of the watchtower, we step a few feet away and notice that the structure is completely visible. The concealment charm must have shattered when Knox burst through the wall, breaking the connection to whatever was generating it. I hold onto Zander’s back so the shield will encase the two of us while he fires his crossbow as rapidly as possible. We can’t travel fast, which is making us more vulnerable to the growing number of Teracs.

“You know the spell, Aven,” Trel whispers. “Just a wave of your hand and they’ll all be gone.”

I shake my head. “No,” I say softly so Zander can’t hear me.

“Yes, it’s the only way to save yourself. If you don’t, you’ll both be killed and the Mitris will take over. Follow your destiny, Aven; use the spell.”

My hand slips from Zander’s back, exposing him. A pulse emitter hits him in the torso sending him crumpling to the ground. I quickly reestablish my connection with him and regenerate the shield.

“Time is running out,” Trel says, a slight threat in his tone.

“No,” I say louder. “I won’t do it.”

“You have no choice. You’re defenseless, and soon they will be on top of you.”

I close my eyes and try not to give in, but with Zander unconscious I can’t maintain the shield and fire his crossbow at the same time. When I reopen my eyes, the Teracs are only feet away.

“Do it now!”

Heat builds in my muscles and my eyes feel as if they’re about to ignite, but I do it. I generate the mortality flare, which kills them all within seconds. The only remnants of the battle are melted snow and ash. I let go of Zander, crawl a couple of inches away, and burst into tears. I’ve never hurt anyone in my life, and I’ve just now murdered more than a dozen people. The overcast sky darkens as the sun has begun to set, and more snow is starting to fall. I know we can’t stay there; I’m sure reinforcements or the Mitris will be here shortly. I go back over to Zander and shake him. He slowly regains consciousness, but is disoriented from the blast.

“What happened?” he asks, trying to sit up.

“We need to get out of here,” I say, pulling on his sleeve. “Which direction is the hamlet?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s that way,” Zander says, pointing to a small dip in the terrain behind me.

I grab his arm, pull it over my shoulders, and haul him to his feet. I make sure we haven’t lost any of our bags or items before heading down the mild slope. Zander’s legs don’t want to support his body, which almost causes me to drop him a couple of times. It takes me a few moments to notice lights glowing in the distant haze. It’s taking all my strength to bring the two of us close to the hamlet. At the bottom of the hill rests what looks to be a main street, flanked by stores on the left and a tavern with a stable on the right. A lowlying wall sits behind the stores and just on its other side are cottages, each one with lights shinning in the windows.

I push on, my feet almost tripping over the cobblestones that line the road. I get us down to the end of the street, where a wooden hotel sign hangs from the awning. Once inside, I set Zander down onto one of the dusty couches before heading over to the front desk. I ask for a room for two nights, hand over the money, take the key, and retake possession of Zander. Thankfully, our room is on the first floor but it’s all the way at the back of the two-story ramshackle structure, so I use the last of my strength to haul Zander to our room. I set him down on the lone chair by the back window, secure the door, and collapse onto the bed.

I ache all over and my head has started to pound. Zander, on the other hand, has started to come back around.

“What happened?” he asks, staring at me with groggy eyes.

“We were attacked by some Teracs.”

“How’d you get us away from them?”

I sit up, swallow the lump in my throat, and start to remove the bags strapped around my shoulders. “Don’t ask.”

“Was it your idea or his?” Zander asks, leaning forward until his arms are resting on his knees.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I get up, take my coat off, and head into the bathroom to use the facilities. When I exit, Zander is still sitting in the chair.

“How many were there?” he asks as I retake my seat.

“More than a dozen.”

“Nothing left?”

“No, nothing left.”

“So, your idea or Trel’s”

“Mine,” I lie.

Zander has a skeptical look on his face. “What about the watchtower? Is it still there?”

“Yes.”

“You left it exposed?” he practically snaps.

“I was only thinking of getting us someplace safe before more Teracs returned. You were injured. What was I supposed to do?” I snap back.

“I need to go back and secure it.” Zander stands and heads towards the door.

“What if they’ve already got it surrounded? You’d be walking into a trap.”

“It’s a chance I need to take.”

He grabs his crossbow and arrows then reaches for my rucksack and removes the locket. He puts it around his neck, tucks it under his coat, and leaves. My heart falls the moment that door closes. I feel as if the cover of my tomb has been sealed. I can’t sit idly by and wait for Zander’s return, if he returns, so I dig out the black lanx along with the journal and check on Michael.

He’s no longer in Lertis, but he’s not far from it. Maybe a day and a half away, heading north in the mountains.

I dig around my rucksack for the communication sphere so I can contact Dean Chares, but I can’t find it. I go through my other bag and Zander’s, but it’s not in any of them. He must not have put it back when he last used it. Now I’m truly cut off from the world. I throw everything onto the bed in frustration, grab the pouch with the money, and storm out of the room heading towards the tavern. It’s the same place where Trel picked up Valora. The exterior and interior of the building are still the same from when I saw it in the mirror. Only the faces around the tables and behind the bar are different.

Once I’m seated, the bartender comes over and takes my order. I don’t know why I came here. I’m exposing myself to any Terac or Mitris who might walk in, but I’m so angry at the world right now I don’t know what else to do. I feel like crying at the loss of Knox, screaming because of the frustration I have with Zander, and running away so I’m no longer a part of this madness.

“Is this seat taken?” an elderly gentleman asks, gesturing to the chair across from me.

“It’s all yours,” I say before slamming down my glass after emptying its contents.

“A beautiful young lady like yourself shouldn’t be in such a place unaccompanied,” he says, signaling to the bartender.

A drink is brought over to him without the man having to tell anyone what he wants. He sips at the yellow liquid, as if his old body can’t handle the substance in great quantities.

“What makes you think I’m alone?” I say as the bartender refills my glass.

“You’re sitting here all by yourself, so I just assumed you’re traveling alone.”

“Well, I’m not,” I say rather rudely. Then I decide I shouldn’t call too much attention to myself. “Sorry, I really don’t mean to be so curt. I’ve had a rough day.”

“That’s okay, we all have days like that.”

We drink in unison and I begin to calm down.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, his manner sweet and kind.

“Not really.” I gulp my drink and start to feel a little lightheaded.

“Would you like another?” the man asks, as he’s still nursing his first.

“I really shouldn’t,” I respond.

“Nonsense. Anyway, I hate to drink alone.”

He sits up as if he’s about to signal to the bartender, but instead he waves his hand and my glass automatically refills.

My eyes widen at the sight, and I slip my hand into my pocket so I can get the knife.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Aven,” the man says with a smile on his face. “I’m not here to harm you, so just relax and act casual.”

“Who are you?” I ask, my throat tensing up.

He sips his drink before answering. “Myro.”

“I thought the Ancients were dead.”

He laughs slightly. “No, you didn’t; don’t lie.”

“Where are the others?” I ask, still gripping my knife tightly.

“Around… somewhere.”

“You don’t know?”

“Let’s just say we had a parting of the ways after my brother Delphi made me exile my son. I was no longer agreeable to their desires after that day.” He rubs his finger over the rim of his glass. “Where’s Zander?”

“Around… somewhere,” I respond with disdain.

His face hardens. “I wouldn’t be so flippant if I were you.”

I lean back in my chair. “What do you want?” I ask, getting annoyed with the man.

“Where’s Michael?” he asks, all kindness evaporated.

“You don’t know? I thought the Ancients knew everything.”

My body suddenly stiffens and I’m stuck to the chair.

“Don’t try my patience, child,” he grunts. “You only have a few minutes to be genial before your life turns upside down.”

“What do you want with Michael?”

“The same thing we want with you… to end the prophecy.”

I try to do what I did with Prime Jarron, only Myro’s powers are much stronger. I strain to escape the enchainment hex, but nothing works.

“Your abilities are far inferior to mine. You won’t be able to get out of the hex, so stop trying,” he says, sitting forward in his chair. “Now, where’s your brother?”

“Fuck you,” I say, spitting at him.

His hand moves fast, striking me across the face with such force that he knocks me to the floor.

I look around for help, but I now notice we’re the only two in the tavern. He distracted me while the others fled. How could I have missed that?

He gets up from his seat and kneels down in front of me. “Last chance, Aven.”

“I’d rather die.”

He glares at me as he stands. “Fine, have it your way.”

The front doors open and Gaden Lamen enters, looking pretty proud of himself. He slowly makes his way over to us, grabs me by the collar of my coat, and lifts me from the floor.

“I’ve been longing for this day,” he says to me, eyeing me up and down. “Oh, what plans I have for you.” Gaden looks over at Myro. “Do it.”

My lips part to scream, but it’s cut off. With a wave of his hand, Myro knocks me out.

My head feels like it’s been cracked open. When I open my eyes, I notice the room I’m in is dank, smelly, and stained in red. I’m strapped down to a wooden chair, my arms bound behind my back. I try to move my wrists, but the moment I do severe pain shoots through my body as my flesh tears.

I scream from the agony.

“Hello, Aven,” Gaden Lamen says as he leans against a small table just in front of me.

“Where am I?” I say through a very sore throat.

“You’re in a transition room. It’s a lovely little hole in the ground the Ancients created to punish those who refused to obey their laws,” Myro says from somewhere behind me. “No one will ever find you in here.”

I try to move my head so I can get a better look around, but something around my neck is preventing that.

“Get it over with then,” I say, my head pounding with every word.

“Not so fast,” Gaden says, pushing off the table. “First, you’ll tell me what this is.” He reaches into his overcoat and removes the green lanx.

“Where did you get that?”

“Michael’s Guardian had it on her,” Myro says, coming into view. “Along with this.” He takes out a plate-like device with four identical compartments, each with the same embellishment. “I know this has something to do with the prophecy. You would’ve learned about it during your teachings.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I was a bad student. I neglected my studies.”

“Wrong answer,” Gaden says.

The device around my neck tightens, cutting off all air. I gasp and flail until the thing releases my throat and I can breathe again. I want to cough, but with the restrictions on my muscles I almost break my ribs trying to stem the sensation.

Myro takes the disc from Gaden and steps closer to me. “Zander has a lanx identical to this one. You and Michael would’ve been given the black ones so you can monitor each other. The discs fit into the plate perfectly, so tell us what it’s used for.”

“As I said before, I have no fucking clue.”

The device tightens again, but this time it lasts longer.

“Only a few more times and you won’t recover from the lack of oxygen,” Gaden says.

I glance between the two of them, trying to determine my next move.

“Zander never mentioned anything about the plate, and I didn’t see it in any of my books,” I say, panic rising in my voice and tears welling in my eyes. “I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“Very well,” Gaden says, turning his back to me.

Myro retreats to his corner after giving both items over to Gaden.

“Ask them, Aven. Ask them about my people,” Trel says in my head.

He feels closer now than ever before, as if he’s rising right out of me.

“What do you want with the Ligotas?” I ask Gaden.

He turns around, holding onto something, but the sleeves of his overcoat are blocking me from seeing the object completely.

“To study them, of course. They’ve survived in this region for thousands of years. No matter what the previous inhabitants have done to annihilate them they always return, and I want to know why. What makes them immortal?”

“Is that what you want? Immortality?”

“Who wouldn’t?” he answers with a slight laugh. “Plus, they’re my entry into the underworld.”

“You’re going to free Trel?”

“Of course not!” Myro shouts angrily.

Gaden waves his hand in the air, as if warning Myro to calm down. “The Ancients have only been focused on silencing the Ligotas and for the Sacrer followers to evolve into greater beings. I simply want the same opportunity, but there’s much more than the region of Comoros to conquer. Much more.” His eyes widen and I notice hints of madness in them.

“He’ll never take over my world!” Trel screams, which causes me to wince from the pain.

“Problem?” Gaden asks when he notices my face contort.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Tell them I’m here with you, listening.”

I close my eyes, hoping I can get Trel to stop, but it’s never worked before so I doubt it will now.

“Why did you poison the people in the City of Delphi?” I ask, trying to change the focus of the conversation.

“To gain control, of course. Dean Chares would never have allowed the elders to change any of their policies or laws. I had to make my point some way to get what I wanted, and it worked.”

“You killed my mother.”

“And your father, don’t forget about him. But when you became ill it just worked out better than I could’ve expected, and I’m not even the one who thought of it.” Gaden sticks the object he has in my face. “You know what this is, don’t you?”

“A book,” I answer.

“Yes, and do you know what it’s used for?”

“No clue.”

The device constricts to the point that I almost pass out.

“What type of book?” Gaden asks once I’ve caught my breath.

“A spell book.”

Why am I acting this way? I’m pissed as hell, but I would think since my life is in their hands I’d be more selective in what I say.

“Where’s the other book?” Myro asks right behind my ear.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Do they not have the lost tome? If they don’t have it, where is it?

“How’d you get a copy of the spell book?” I ask.

“It’s not a true spell book,” Myro answers. “It’s a crude imitation. One my son probably created. I’m only able to interpret a few of the spells, but we need the tome to figure out the rest.”

“It’s still lost,” I reply.

“No, the one Trel had before he went to the underworld,” Myro says, coming back into focus.

“Michael has it. He refused to give me the book when we parted.”

“She’s telling the truth,” a new voice says off to my left.

The brace around my neck is removed, allowing me full range of motion. Leo steps out from the shadows, properly dressed in a Mitris uniform.

“How can you be so sure?” Myro asks.

“I know Aven… intimately. She’s not lying.”

“Uh-huh,” Gaden responds, not sounding too convinced.

He crosses his arms over his chest and his sleeves slip just enough for me to catch the glint of gold around his wrists.

“Where’d you get those?” I ask, nodding towards the bracelets.

Gaden pushes one sleeve back and smiles. “Oh, you mean the Kerai Couplings? I took them off a couple of Terac officers. They weren’t needing them anymore.”

“But that’s only one set. There were two Guardians with the Teracs. Where’s the other set?” I practically growl.

“They’re safe,” Gaden says before turning his back on me.

Since he has the couplings, I’m starting to doubt he has the amulet.

“How’d you kill Michael’s Guardian?”

“Her spell rebounded. She had no idea Myro had taught me the veneficia shield.” Gaden says, turning back around. “Surely Zander has taught you about the two protective shields. The marus shield protects against manmade weapons, while the veneficia shield protects you against magic.”

Leo leans into me. “Don’t tell me your lover never taught them to you?”

I try not to show any emotion to the accusation, no matter how truthful it may be. Zander only made sure I knew about the marus shield, so why not the other one? Why didn’t he start with protective spells to begin with? Why save those for last, or was he going to show them to me at all?

“Well,” Gaden says, clearing his throat. “I’ll leave her with you, Leo. Michael should be emerging from his hiding place shortly.”

“How’d you get him to leave Lertis?” I blurt out.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Gaden says. He turns, picks up his items, and leaves with Myro out a side door that opens up onto a small stairwell going upward.

“How could –” I begin, but Leo cuts me off.

“Shut it. I don’t know if they’ve actually left yet.”

I strain my hearing, trying to see if I notice any odd noises, but there’s only silence. I decide it’s best to wait a few extra minutes before opening my mouth again.

“Explain,” I say, staring hard at him.

He steps around to the back of the chair and loosens my restraints. “I’ve been following you ever since you left Parime.”

“How is that possible?”

“Let’s just say that if it was spring, I wouldn’t have been able to do it.”

Our footprints. He knew what to follow because he knew where to start.

I pull my aching arms around and examine the cuts to my wrists. They’re shallow, but right along the top of the couplings. If I had tried hard enough, my hands would’ve been severed.

“But how did you know I was in Welding?”

“I didn’t, Gaden did. Myro said you’d show up there. I guess you did in a couple of the previous cycles, it was just never recorded.”

“Now what?”

“We’ll wait an hour, then head towards the City of Delphi. You need to get to the kerk. It’s the safest place for you.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Michael.”

“I know what you’re thinking, but you must let things play out. You need to be somewhere safe. If no one can find you, the prophecy won’t come true. It needs the both of you in order for that to happen.”

“I’m not leaving Michael to become a pawn in their game.”

He glares at me.

“Fine, but I need to get my things from the inn in Welding first.”

He’s about to protest, when I hold up my hand.

“It’s important.”

“For you or for Zander?” he asks, anger creeping into his voice.

“For Michael.”

NINETEEN

He finally agrees after another ten minutes of arguing.

Sitting in the cold room makes everything hurt more than it already does. I need a distraction to keep myself alert before it’s safe to leave.

“Why were you following me?”

“To make sure you were all right. I knew Gaden Lamen was looking for you, and so was my father. I thought if I could keep a close eye on you, I could guarantee that you were safe from them.”

“You let them torture me.”

He hangs his head. “I know, and I’m truly sorry about that, but I had to keep up appearances. I need Myro and Gaden to trust me.”

“When did Myro and Gaden meet?”

“From what I gather, many years ago. Myro provided hundreds of documents to Gaden to prove that what he was telling him was true. Gaden didn’t believe him until Myro told him about an upcoming incident that had happened in all previous cycles.”

“Which was?”

“The birth of you and Michael.”

“But where did Gaden Lamen come from? Everyone in the region would’ve had their memories wiped when everything started over. He should’ve been affected.”

“That’s if you’re assuming he’s from here.”

“You don’t think he is?”

“No, although I can’t put my finger on why I feel that way.”

“Your father is looking for you,” I say after a few moments of silence.

“I know and now that he’s learned everything he’s created his own agenda. One that includes something I don’t want to be any part of.”

“What would that be?”

He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Killing you and Michael. He has it in his head that he can turn the prophecy in such a way that I’ll become the hero for the Ancients and lead the evolution. I don’t want to do anything if you’re not in it.”

He pulls me close and kisses me hard on the lips.

I don’t know what to make of the mixed emotions that are bubbling up. I know what he’ll become and what he does, but I don’t have the heart to tell him. He’s spent all this time making sure I was safe. It would probably destroy him if he finds out that he killed me in a previous cycle. But do I let him become a progressed Ligotas? Should I at least warn him about that?

“I need to tell you something,” I say, pulling out of his embrace. “I know what your fate in the prophecy is, and you’re not going to like it.”

“I’ve been wondering about that. Myro doesn’t seem to know, as all his information was solely on you and Michael.”

I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat and carefully select my words. “You know about the Ligotas, right?”

“Sure.”

“You… turn into one of them. A progressed one, but I don’t know how. Zander never would tell me that part.”

Leo lets go of my hand and averts his eyes.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks, finally looking back at me.

“I didn’t know if I was ever going to see you again.”

“Did you know that day I came to the temple?”

“No, I didn’t. I found out after you left.”

He stands, puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head.

I don’t envy the thoughts that are swirling in his mind. If it were me, however, I’d be screaming and yelling at the news, not quietly mulling it over as he seems to be.

“We need to get going,” he says, abruptly changing the subject.

Leo steps out into the stairwell and returns a few moments later, saying that the coast is clear. I stop our upward momentum halfway up the stairs, as I don’t trust Gaden to just simply leave us unattended. I move ahead of Leo and prop up the trap door a few inches. I take a deep breath and hope I’m wrong.

The stairwell fills with the red energy. I aim it out around us and hear screams as the mortality flare hits its targets. I climb the rest of the way out and Leo closes the door behind us. I take his hand and think back to what Katrina did when she deceived Trel. I imagine Leo and me becoming a part of the scenery, merging our bodies with the land around us. The air surrounding us begins to wave momentarily. I remember the same effect happening when Zander applied the charm around our campsite.

“What’d you do?” Leo asks as we begin heading west.

“I’m hiding us. Don’t let go of my hand, or the spell will break.”

It takes us all night to make our way back to the hamlet. The sun has just broken the horizon when we cross over to the main street. We go to the end of the road and turn left around the side of the inn. I remember seeing a back door a few feet from the room. We turn to the back of the building and I finally let go of Leo. The door isn’t locked, so we enter without any trouble. My room, on the other hand, is locked. I reach into my pocket and heave a huge sigh of relief when I feel the knife. I transform the item into a skeleton key and unlock my room.

The mess I had made the night before has been cleaned up. The only thing on the bed is my rucksack, journal, and the black lanx. Everything else is gone.

“Zander must’ve been here,” I mutter, just loud enough to be heard.

“And all he left you was a book and a disc? How thoughtful,” he says sarcastically.

I open the journal and place the lanx on the embellishment. The map appears, but not only is Michael not near the Sabra Mountains, he isn’t showing up anywhere on the map at all.

“Where the hell is he?” I ask as I spin the map around, making sure to check all angles.

“Who? Michael?”

“He’s not displayed on the map. Where the hell is he?” My voice rises in panic.

“Maybe he’s underground somewhere. That probably wouldn’t show on your map.”

“So, where are some places that are underground?” I begin to remove the black disc when it dawns on me that the blue one is gone, so there is no way to check any Sacrer sites. “Damn it.”

I slip the lanx back onto the page and try to imagine what the blue map looks like, but nothing comes to mind.

Fire suddenly flares from a spot slightly southeast of the hamlet. I tap on the image and Castra pops up. It’s engulfed in flames. Once again, someone has made the map act like it’s not supposed to. A small bat-like creature rises from the camp and begins circling it. I squint my eyes to get a better look.

“Knox.”

“Who?”

“Someone I used to know,” I say as the figure dances atop the blaze. “We need to go there.”

“I thought you wanted to go looking for your brother.”

“I do, but Knox will know the best places Michael could be if he is underground. I’m going to Castra.”

“No, Aven, you’re going back to Delphi.”

I turn so we’re face to face, kiss him on the cheek, and place a hypnotic charm on him. “I can’t do that. Not yet.”

I shove the journal and lanx into the rucksack along with my knife, and leave. I find a couple of horses in the stable next to the tavern, so I borrow one and ride out of the hamlet as fast as the horse will go.

I make minimal stops until I reach the camp a day and half later. Both the horse and I are hungry and exhausted, but I need to get to Knox as he’s the best option I have for the moment. I’m baffled about Michael, frustrated with Zander, and dreading what I’ll find in Castra. I never would’ve guessed that my life would turn out so messed up, which makes me wonder how much more I have to endure before I can be free of this damn prophecy.

When I arrive in Castra, the entire place is in ruins. Flames lick at tent poles that are bent and broken. The stone walls have collapsed in spots, and one of the turrets is completely demolished. Bodies lay sprawled throughout the camp; many are dead and the rest are dying. Knox is sitting in a chair by the fire pit where we first met. It’s almost like he’s expecting me.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he says when I come into view. “It’s not safe for you here.” His wings slowly bat at the fires behind him, feeding the flames the air they’re desperately seeking.

“What happened here?” I ask, keeping my distance.

“Where’s Zander?” he asks, his voice getting deeper with every breath.

“I don’t know. We got separated.” I take a step closer. “Answer my question.”

He folds his arms over his bulky chest and stares at me. “You think I did this?” he asks.

“Did you?”

“No!” he roars. “I came to stop it, but I was too late.”

“Then who did?”

“The Mitris. They view anyone who doesn’t conform to their rules as a threat. Castra was a neutral zone, a safe place for everyone. The mercenaries put up one hell of a fight, but they were out-gunned and outnumbered. They never had a chance.”

I take a few steps closer to Knox before taking a seat on a minimally charred bench that’s been flipped over.

“How did they turn you?”

Knox crosses his legs and hunches over, as if he’s trying to curl up into a ball and disappear.

“I guess it was always inside me. I thought after all this time that my actions back then would no longer have an impact on my life now. I was wrong.” He turns his head away from me as tears well up in his eyes. “They didn’t turn me. I did it to myself.”

I sit up, shocked by the answer. “What? Why?”

“It’s my own punishment. Valora showed me what I needed to do to become like her. She even gave me a vial of blood from one of her lost followers, and I’ve been carrying it around with me this whole time as a reminder of what I did.”

“What about your memories?”

“I’ve become numb to them. I haven’t felt real in a long time, and I figured since this was the last time I get to do this I might as well do it right.”

“So you decided to become a progressed Ligotas? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It will eventually,” he says, a smile forming on his face as he glances in my direction.

Knox gets up and meanders over to a small, squat building that has minimal damage. He opens the door and bends forward to get inside. He reemerges a couple of minutes later, his arms laden down with food. He sets the pile down next to me and then takes a couple of pieces of fruit over to my horse, who I have tied up just outside the camp. I eat what I can, but a lot of the food is raw. Knox returns and eats what I don’t.

“Do you know why Gaden Lamen let us take you? It seemed odd that we were able to leave the city without any problems.”

“That was so he could find the watchtower and destroy it.”

“How did he learn about the watchtower?”

“One of the two Guardians who were among the Teracs told him about it during their torture phase. I told Gaden it wasn’t traceable, that he could never find it. I guess I was wrong.”

“So, how did he do it?”

“One of the guards hid a tracker in the sole of my shoe. I kept telling him that it wouldn’t work, that the watchtower was impervious to all external monitoring devices. It wasn’t until I bolted out of the tower that I realized his plan had worked.”

“How would someone go about trying to find a magically-concealed object?

“If you know the frequency of the spell that has been cast, you can adjust any device to pick it up. Only a Guardian or an Ancient would know the frequency of that spell.”

A name comes to mind. Myro.

I let silence fall, as I don’t want to think any more about Gaden Lamen, Teracs, or the Mitris.

“I’m changing,” I blurt out. “Prime Jarron poisoned me with Trel’s blood. I’m going to be like you soon.”

Knox sets down the raw leg of lamb he’s half-eaten. “That can’t be. You were never supposed to become one of us. Why would a Guardian do that?”

I explain to him what happened in the watchtower, about Trel lurking in my head, and how I’ve already started to feel some of the effects from the injection.

“There’s a way to guarantee you don’t turn. Don’t kill anyone you love or are related to,” Knox says, going back to his feeding frenzy.

“Thanks, I hadn’t thought of that,” I respond.

He taps my leg with his hand and we both laugh, but only a little.

I reach into the rucksack, take out the journal and lanx, and show Knox the map.

“I can’t find Michael,” I say, passing the book over to him.

His eyes widen when he notices the site of Castra displaying its destruction on the map.

“How is the map able to show the wreckage like this?” he asks, pointing to it.

“We don’t know. I thought maybe it was Prime Jarron, but since he’s dead now it has to be someone else.”

Knox studies the map closer, then scratches his head. “Um, Aven, did you notice that your dot is also not showing on the map?”

I rip the book away from him. How could I have missed that? I was so focused on looking for Michael that I missed the obvious.

“Has this happened all the other times?” I ask, dropping the book to the ground.

“No, it’s another deviation.”

Great.

“Now what?” I ask, hugging my knees.

“I get you to the City of Delphi,” Knox says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“My thoughts exactly,” says someone, interrupting our conversation.

“What’s Leo doing here?” Knox says, glaring at the new arrival as his wings open, as if to ward off an attack.

“Calm down,” Leo says, holding his hands up. “I’m here to get Aven to safety.”

“Your father –” Knox begins, getting to his feet.

“I’m not my father,” Leo says, seething. “I want nothing to do with the man. I never have. He’s bullied me my whole life to get me to be just like him: a coldhearted, arrogant, asshole whose sole purpose in life is to get even whenever he believes he’s been wronged. I hate the man and everything he’s done.” Leo’s face reddens and his hands ball up into fists. “Now, are we getting her out of here or what?”

“Works for me,” Knox says.

He takes the journal while Leo grabs my arm and lifts me off the bench. My struggles are futile as he drags me back to my horse and tosses me on top of it. The minute he lets go, I sit upright and take off, leaving the two behind. I don’t know where I’m riding to, but I’m not going back to the City of Delphi. Not without Michael.

I don’t get far.

Knox crash-lands in front of me, his feet leaving divots in the ground and frightening the horse so much it rears and I almost fall off. Leo catches up a few moments later. He rips the reins from my hands and ties them to his saddle.

“Enough, Aven,” he practically shouts at me. “Don’t you understand what we’re trying to do? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Nothing can happen if you’re nowhere near Michael, understand? You can’t find him… ever.”

I give Leo a quizzical look. “What do you know that I don’t?”

He holds my gaze for a few seconds, then shakes his head and looks away. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

He pulls my horse alongside his while Knox travels slightly ahead of us to act as a lookout.

I need to find a way to do this on my own. I thought going to Knox would’ve been different, but he’s just like Zander and Leo. The moment we reach the city I’m ditching the two of them. I’m sick of being made to follow orders, it’s been that way my whole life. If it wasn’t my parents, then it was Michael who was bossing me around. I’ve never been able to think for myself. Well that’s about to change.

TWENTY

Leo and Knox both agree the safest approach to the city is through the Valley of Dearmad. Taking the sojourner’s path will help us avoid the villages all together. We reach the henge around midafternoon the following day. Leo wants to wait until it’s dark before venturing any further. I’ve stopped protesting my confinement and am now considering alternate ways of getting back to Michael.

The pyre in the center of the circle doesn’t look like it’s been used for a while. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Knox disappears into the forest along the south rim of the valley and emerges with several piles of logs. Leo uses some remnants of dried flowers to get a small fire going a few feet outside the henge. The snow, thankfully, has stopped falling, but the clouds remain.

My stomach growls, so Leo hands out some food he took from Castra before we left. I’m really getting tired of eating dried meat, fruit, and nuts, but I’m hungry and it’s all we have. I take the blanket from under my horse’s saddle, spread it on the ground, and try to take a nap.

“Come find me in the valley where the ethereal waters flow, and blessings will be given in time as you grow,” a female voice says softly.

“Did you hear that?” I ask them after opening my eyes.

“Hear what?” Leo replies, a puzzled look on his face.

“Nothing, never mind.” I roll over and try to fall asleep.

“Sadness must come as your journey awaits, your destiny chosen as the prophecy dictates.”

“I heard it that time,” Knox says, sitting up.

I get to my feet and glance around the valley.

“The past is a memory of which not to forget, for soon there could be a great deal of regret.”

“Who’s there?” Leo calls out, standing.

“Temptation abounds and falter you may, but peace will come on the thirteenth of days.”

“Knock it off!” I shout.

“Zerah, my love, your life will divide as evil does its best to trick your mind.”

“Shut up!” I scream, darting into the henge, where the voice seems to be coming from.

“Changes to body and soul are assured, but even these tasks will need to be endured.”

“Knox, fly overhead and see if you can locate where the voice is coming from,” Leo says.

Knox takes off and begins circling the area.

“Give in to your fate even as darkness shines, for you are the benevolent, the pure, and the divine.”

“Stop!” I yell.

The world freezes, but only on the other side of the henge.

A blue energy fills the gaps between the stone columns, trapping me inside.

Leo’s mouth has frozen mid-shout; he’s completely immobilized. Knox looks as if he’s been painted on the sky.

“Hello, Aven,” a familiar voice says behind me.

I turn to face the voice. “Hello, Mother,” I say with a tinge of annoyance as her spirit stands before me.

“You look well,” she says, smiling.

“What do you want?” I ask, not at all amused by the intrusion.

“I need you to save Michael,” she says, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Why?”

She looks stunned by my response. “Because he’s your brother, Aven.”

“Are you sure about that?” I retort.

She scowls. “Of course. What an absurd question.”

“Why did you teach me the Sacrer Atonement Chant?”

“I was instructed to do so by my mother. She wanted to make sure the heir of Trel was well-versed in Delphi’s message,” she says in a tone of triumph.

“Well, then, you should’ve taught Michael.”

Her eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“Trel isn’t my father; Delphi is.”

“That’s not possible,” she says, sounding genuinely surprised. ”She was assured that Delphi’s seed never took.”

“Who told her that?”

“Dean Chares,” she answers, gasping.

I smile as the red energy swirls around the both of us. I know it can’t kill her, but it should definitely break whatever hold she still has on me.

“Goodbye, Mother. Give my love to Katrina,” I say before unleashing the mortality flare that I hope will banish her from my sight.

Her screams last mere seconds, then she’s gone and the world returns to normal.

“What the hell was that?” Leo asks as he stumbles towards me.

“The beginning of the end,” I say, marching over to my horse just as Knox lands.

I place the blanket back on, reattach the saddle, and head towards the city. I try to formulate what I’m going to say before I get to the kerk, since I don’t want to stumble over my words and sound like an idiot.

The city is surprisingly quiet. There isn’t a soul around yet I’m not bothered by it like I should be, given the time of day that it is. I dismount once I reach the kerk, bolt across the vestibule, and fly down the stairs. Dean Chares is in the midst of lighting candles around the fountain when I enter the sanctuary. His eyes grow wide at the sight of me and he drops the lit match, which sputters and dies when it hits a wet spot on the floor.

“Aven, what…what are you doing here?” he asks, visibly shaken by my presence.

“Why did you lie to her?”

“To who?”

“Katrina, when you told her Delphi’s seed didn’t take.”

“You saw her memories this time, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Which one of you is his child?”

“I am.”

He takes a seat on one of the pews and pats a spot next to him.

I hesitantly take a seat, though I put some distance between us.

“To be honest, I was afraid. I didn’t want anything horrible happening to your mother, so I lied.”

“When did you first know?”

“A year after your mother was born. I could tell there was an anomaly in her, something reminiscent of an Ancient. I didn’t realize it was Delphi until I was examining the files on Zander and Ceri’s discs. When I saw that memory, I knew I had to keep quiet. Who knows what they would’ve done to Elena.”

“Who?”

“The siblings. They all despised Delphi but went along with him anyway out of fear. He’s the real reason the one brother left. The others couldn’t summon the courage to do the same. After the war the siblings fought for control over Comoros. They realized that the five of them couldn’t rule together in peace, so each chiseled out their own city. Myro and Lertis stayed with Delphi and did as they were told, but Parime and Reinga revolted. Delphi threatened their people if they didn’t assist in his plans for the prophecy. Parime gave in slightly and permitted the use of the temple, but nothing else. Reinga wasn’t persuaded at all.”

“What happened to them?”

“Parime vanished shortly after placing his city into the time loop, but I don’t know where. Reinga and her city are nowhere to be found. The City of Reinga was there one day and gone the next.”

“But it shows on the maps.”

“The Guardians did that to keep the common people’s belief in the purity of the siblings intact. If anyone had actually known of their hatred toward each other, it would’ve ripped the region apart, and the Ligotas would’ve easily taken over.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “The one thing they all could agree on was that the Ligotas, and all the other creatures of the underworld, needed to be destroyed. I think that’s why Parime was a little more willing to play a small part in the prophecy. Reinga couldn’t be moved at all. She was always the most difficult one.”

“Where is Lertis?”

“He’s around, but he pretty much stays to himself nowadays. I think he has a cottage somewhere south of the Grynden Sea that he might be living in.”

Could that have been the same cottage Zander and I were in? Was Lertis lurking in there somehow? Is that why there were food, logs, and a lit fire?

“Myro is with Gaden Lamen,” I say, sadly.

“That’s disappointing,” Dean Chares responds, sounding just as pained.

A bright flash to our right catches our attention. Painting number seven is coming into focus. The image shows Michael with a young woman with long red hair entering through a lavish gate made of gold. Just beyond the gate are massive gardens in full bloom, with clear blue skies overhead.

“Ah, Ceri and Michael have finally made it to the Sacrer Gardens,” Dean Chares says, sounding pleased.

My heart stops at the sight.

“That’s not Ceri,” I say as I get up to take a closer look at the painting.

“Of course it is; who else could it be?”

I turn to face Dean Chares. “Ceri is dead, so that can’t possibly be her.”

“What are you talking about? Who told you Ceri was dead?”

“I did,” Knox says coming into the sanctuary in his human form, with Leo right behind him.

“How…how did this happen?” Dean Chares asks, raising his hand to his mouth.

“Gaden Lamen found her in Welding. She died right in front of me when a spell rebounded. It appears Gaden has the amulet,” Knox says, striding up to my side.

“He doesn’t,” I quickly interject. “I thought that, too, but he was wearing a set of the Kerai Couplings when I last saw him. He took them off one of the Guardians posing as a Terac officer.”

Dean Chares grows pale.

Knox goes down into the dean’s quarters and returns with some water. Dean Chares takes long sips, but it doesn’t help his complexion.

“We need to know who that is,” he says, pointing to the painting. “Come with me.”

He stands, and the three of us follow him down into his quarters and into the archive. He grabs the Finity Book, slams it on a table, and begins to flip the pages vigorously. He stops when he comes to the page that talks about the Sacrer Gardens.

“Aven, do you have your journal?” the dean asks, holding out his hand.

I remove it from the rucksack and give it to him without hesitation.

He turns to the seventh painting and examines the image against the detailed description of what it’s supposed to look like from the Finity Book. He collapses onto a chair, looking like he’s on the brink of passing out completely.

“They’re at the wrong gate,” he murmurs as sweat begins to run down his face.

“How can you tell?” Knox asks.

Dean Chares points to the golden gate and the carefully carved image of snakes tied into knots.

“Each gate has one of the four symbols: Zerah, Guardian, Sacrer, and Ligotas. The gate you enter determines your place in the prophecy. Ceri was supposed to have Michael enter through the Zerah gate, not the Ligotas,” Dean Chares says, growing paler by the second.

“How do we get there?” I ask.

“Oh no, no. You’re not going anywhere,” Leo says, closing the journal. “You’re to stay in the kerk until this whole thing blows over.”

“I can’t do that. Someone who isn’t Ceri is with my brother. I need to find out who that is, and why they’re there,” I respond, poking a finger into his chest.

“She needs to go,” Dean Chares whispers.

We all stare at him.

“Aven needs to fulfill her part of the prophecy. She can’t stay here; she needs to go and be with Michael.”

“You’re asking her to die,” Leo protests.

Dean Chares glares at him. “She’s going to be fine, Leo. Nothing bad is supposed to, or is going to happen to Aven.”

Leo opens his mouth, then quickly shuts it.

“Now,” Dean Chares begins, changing his focus from Leo to me, “the gardens are along the Vicion River to the south of here. It’ll take you only a few hours to reach it. When you get there be sure to enter through the north gate, that’s the Zerah gate. Knox will need to enter through the Guardian gate on the east side, and Leo through the Sacrer gate on the south. You must enter only through these gates. If you select another gate, your fate will change.”

“I thought everything was predetermined,” I say as we start to head towards the hallway and up the stairs.

“It is, except in this place. The gardens are something else altogether. I wish I had time to explain it, but you really need to hurry,” Dean Chares says, practically pushing us out of the sanctuary.

The three of us now stand in the vestibule and try to determine the best way to exit the city, since we’ll need to pass through one of the villages. As Knox and Leo discuss our options, I pull the journal back out and go to the seventh painting. The gardens are in full daylight, but if they’re only a few hours south of here they should be in darkness like the rest of the region. I show the oddity to the other two, but they dismiss it.

After several minutes of deliberation, we finally decide to go through the village of Castellum. It’s a farming community, so two people on horseback won’t look out of place. Knox will fly ahead and meet us a mile from the village border. He steps out of the vestibule, transforms to his Ligotas form, and leaves. Leo and I mount our horses and ride as quickly as we can past the darkened houses.

The hours pass slowly. We’re all working on pure adrenaline, very little food, and no sleep. Knox lands at a spot on the ground where the snow melts as soon as it lands on the bright green grass. The temperature suddenly increases and I begin to sweat in my coat. Twenty minutes later, we enter a sunbathed world. The transition between the night and day is sharp, almost blinding. A warm breeze blows around us, purple wildflowers spring up in patches, and I can hear birds chirping though I can’t actually see them. It’s another ten minutes before we come to the north – Zerah – gate into the gardens. We stop and take in the sight.

The gardens don’t have any proper fencing, yet the plants don’t extend beyond the gate. I can almost see the east and west points of the gardens before jutting to the south. I dismount, take off my coat, and toss it over the saddle.

“Be careful,” Leo says before taking off with Knox towards the east.

I strap the rucksack across my chest and head into the gardens.

The gate moves easily when I push against it. Tiny insects leap from one flower to another in a type of rhythmic dance. The air is fragrant, perfumed by the various species of plants lining either side of the stone pathway. A little over five minutes later, I come across a pool in the center of the path in the shape of the Zerah symbol: a triple knot surrounded by wings. The water is crystal clear, making every colorful mosaic on the bottom come to life. I feel at peace here. Tranquility is something I never thought I’d ever experience again, but it’s abundant here. I can easily get lost in the beauty.

I’m not sure how long or far I’ve wandered, but my path ends at a monumentally large structure erected out of pure white marble, which is delicately covered in bright green ivy. I climb up three small steps, enter the roofless building, and stop when I reach a large pool in the shape of a star at the center of the structure. The mosaics in the other pool are missing from this one, but the water is just as clear. I stare at my reflection in the water until a red light at the bottom catches my eye. It expands the shape of the pool, growing brighter by the second. The red blends into oranges and yellows, practically exploding towards me. The temperature around me rises to a point that I almost feel as if my skin is about to burn off. I look harder into the water and realize the colors are actually fire. I’m watching a raging torrent of flames eating at the heart of the City of Delphi with the kerk breaking apart in the center of it all.

I step back just as a burst of red approaches my face, and both the image and heat disappear. My heart races from what I just saw.

“It shows your future,” a voice says off to my left.

Zander exits out of the Guardian side of the gardens with his crossbow and arrows slung over his shoulders.

“Where have you been?” I ask, my voice rising from both excitement and anger.

“Around,” he says as he takes a few steps towards the pool. “You shouldn’t have come here, Aven. It’s not safe.”

“Michael is here, but he’s not alone.”

“I know,” he says, stopping only a few inches from me. “He’s with Valora.”

“What!” I practically scream.

“She has a replica locket just like this one.” He lifts the chain from around his neck and hands the relic to me. “Put that on and invoke the illusion spell,” he practically demands.

“Why?”

“Just do it,” he says sternly.

I put it on, tuck it under my shirt, and think of the spell. Within seconds I’m Prime Jarron, robes and all. I’m about to protest his decision when Michael and Valora, masquerading as Ceri, emerge from the Ligotas side of the gardens.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Zander,” Valora says, calmly. “Jarron, why is he here?”

“I need to speak with Michael alone, Ceri,” Zander says in a steady voice.

“Why?” Valora asks, glancing between the two of us.

“It has to do with Aven. Can you give us a few minutes?”

Valora cocks her head to the side, purses her lips, and squints her eyes. “No, I don’t think I will.” She unsheathes a small sword that is attached to her waistband and holds it out, pointed at Zander.

“What the hell, Ceri!” Zander shouts. “All we want to do is talk to Michael!”

“No, you don’t.” She steps into the building, keeper her blade raised

Michael is still standing at the end of the stone path, looking confused at our interaction.

“Ceri, put the weapon down,” I say, putting my hands out in front of me, trying to calm her down.

She spins the sword over to me. “Zander isn’t supposed to be here, Jarron. That wasn’t the deal.”

“I know, but something’s come up,” I say, trying to sound convincing.

“Where’s Aven?” Michael asks, finally gathering enough courage to join the tense conversation.

“She’s close by,” I say to him.

“Really?” Valora asks, her tone brightening. “Have her come out and we’ll have a lovely little family reunion.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Zander says, stepping in front of me.

“And why is that, Zander?” Michael asks, his demeanor suddenly changing. “What did you do with my sister?” he demands.

“Nothing, Michael. She’s fine,” Zander responds, a little surprised by Michael’s tone.

“Then bring her to me,” Michael says, clenching his teeth.

“I can’t at the moment.”

Valora relaxes the sword so it’s now dangling at her side. “Oh, yes, you can.”

She grabs me by the throat, digs in my shirt, and yanks off the locket. I instantly change back to myself, yet Michael doesn’t appear to be too surprised by my transformation. Valora tosses the locket over to Michael, who slips it around his neck.

“You were right, Ceri. She was going to try to trick me,” Michael says in a severe tone.

“I wasn’t trying to trick you,” I say towards Michael. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what, Aven?”

“Her,” Zander says as he lunges at Valora.

He pins her to the ground while I snatch the locket from her neck. The illusion spell dissolves and her true self is exposed, only it’s her human form not her Ligotas form.

I glance at Michael to gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t have one. In fact, he doesn’t look surprised at all.

“You knew,” I say, stepping away, my back hitting the side of the pool.

“Of course I knew,” he says, steadily approaching me. “I’ve known since the start.”

“How?” Zander and I ask in unison.

Michael looks at the two of us. “Through my studies. You would’ve known a long time ago if you’d been with me. We could be doing all of this together, but you had to be a stubborn ass.”

“You’re lying,” I retort. “Dean Chares taught you. He would’ve found out about Valora and stopped her.”

“The dean only saw what he wanted to. He always refused to accept the inevitable,” Michael says, shoving Zander off Valora.

“Which is?” I ask, looking for an escape, as I’m starting to feel like a trapped animal.

Michael practically has his body pressed against mine. “Your death.”

I don’t see the knife, or the motion of his arm, but I fall into the fountain, filling it with the blood from my throat.

TWENTY-ONE

Come find me in the valley where the ethereal waters flow

And blessings will be given in time as you grow

Sadness must come as your journey awaits

Your destiny chosen as the prophecy dictates

The past is a memory of which not to forget

For soon there could be a great deal of regret

Temptation abounds and falter you may

But peace will come on the thirteenth of days

Zerah, my love, your life will divide

As evil does its best to trick your mind.

Changes to body and soul are assured

But even these tasks will need to be endured

Give in to your fate even as darkness shines

For you are the benevolent, the pure, and the divine

“Please, stop,” I say, but not vocally.

I open my eyes, but I can’t see, as darkness is everywhere. I know I’m dead. I have to be, and Michael killed me. Why? Zander and Leo both knew that moment was approaching and they did everything they could to prevent it, but I wouldn’t listen. If only they’d just told me. But would that have changed what I did? Probably not. I would’ve done anything to get Michael away from the danger, to save him instead of me. How did it end like this? What happens now?

“Aven,” a voice resonates in my head. “I’m happy you finally came.”

A flash ignites in front of me, illuminating Trel’s face.

I jump back, startled by his appearance.

I’m dead, I have to be, otherwise how am I seeing Trel in person since he’s trapped in the underworld?

He looks the same as when he was cast out by Myro. The Puridian Manacle is gone, but it left its markings around his throat.

“Where’s the device?” I ask, which seems like an odd first question.

“Sacrer artifacts don’t hold up well down here,” he says, smiling.

“Then why are you still in the underworld? Valora got out. Why didn’t you?”

“That bitch left me here to rot,” he utters. “She changed me into one of her monsters, then fled the first chance she got, and went back to Comoros.”

Trel steps back and the light floating above our heads expands around us. His skin has turned snow-white, his lips are a full red, his eyes pure black. He has the traditional talons on his feet, sharpened nails, but he still has fingers, and the wings that protrude from his back are green and resemble a melting leather canvas.

“How’d you get stuck here?”

“Delphi, that’s how.” He kicks forward with one of his legs and a heavy, thick metal chain attached to his leg makes a clanking sound. “He’s tethered me here, and the only way I can get out is by you.”

“I’m dead,” I say, my heart breaking as the words escape my lips.

“No, you’re not. Zander wouldn’t ever allow that to happen.” He turns his back to me, heads to a ledge of brimstone, and sits down.

“Then how am I here with you?”

“My blood, remember? I can summon you anytime I want because you’re a part of me, for the rest of your life.”

“How did you get your blood to Prime Jarron?”

Trel smiles. “My father, of course. Ancients can move in and out of the underworld as much as they like.”

“Then why do they continue to allow this place to exist since they want to destroy it?”

“Because they can’t get past the first level,” he says, laughing. “They actually need the Ligotas in order to proceed further into the underworld.”

Turning the child of an Ancient into a Ligotas would solve that problem, but if so, why wasn’t Trel the solution? Did they only find out they could use him after he was exiled, or was he simply too arrogant to be a part of their plans?

“So, Prime Jarron injecting me with your poison actually did the Ancients a favor,” I say with a smirk.

Trel’s face darkens, and his eyes narrow. “I guess you could say that, but that doesn’t mean you know how to defeat anything down here. You’re still a novice with your magic. You wouldn’t last a minute down here… without me.”

I think about his words. The Ancients placed both of us in this situation, Delphi especially. From my understanding, only a very select few will be allowed to move on once the prophecy comes to fruition. None of the Guardians will benefit, which makes me doubt the deans will either. So, then, who evolves? Michael and me? Just Michael? Just me? How many people live in Comoros? Thousands? Tens of thousands? A million? What happens to them? Do they just vanish, or die in some horrific transition from this world to the next?

I now have a full understanding of Trel’s anger, and why he did what he did, but I believe he handled it in the wrong way.

“What are you proposing?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

This perks him up to where he’s almost jumping off his seat. “Get me back to the surface.”

“That’s not much of a plan.”

His joy evaporates and he narrows his eyes again. “I know what I’m doing; just get me out of here.”

“I could probably just do this on my own,” I say to annoy him.

“You don’t have the skills!” he yells. “You haven’t been properly taught. I can teach you everything; just trust me.”

“I don’t trust anyone anymore,” I say, a hint of sadness slipping out.

I feel betrayed by everyone, but mostly by Michael. We’ve spent our whole lives protecting each other from those in the villages who wanted us dead since the day we were born. This was our first time apart and he turned on me that quickly? Was he always like that, or did it start once he began his studies? Zander never did mention the defensive spell until he had to, and then it was only the one. Leo allowed Myro and Gaden Lamen to brutalize me. He knew they were after me, yet he didn’t do anything to prevent them from finding me. He knew I was going to show up in the hamlet of Welding, and he simply let them take me when he could’ve stopped it.

My eyes begin to well with tears, but not from sadness. Rage engulfs my stomach and flows upward. I feel a spark of anger flicker inside me, one I didn’t even know could exist. I know what I need to do. I smile at Trel, close my eyes, and let go of all feeling. I make myself numb, fearless, and vengeful. Trel disappears and I suddenly feel myself floating in water. I open my eyes, expecting to be in the star-shaped pool in the gardens, but the barrel-shaped ceiling that looks down at me is unfamiliar.

Words are carved into the hard rock above my head and I have to blink a couple of times to rid my eyes of excess water in order to read them.

Twisted fate has brought you here

But close to death you have no fear

Magic and mystics call your name

But neither will be glad you came

Horrors await even the most loyal of allies

As they burn, turn, and relish your demise

Fear not, as all is not lost

For they will all pay a heavy cost

Shadows and monsters now fill the void

To ensure those who tremble are forever destroyed

A new world you have created, one of knowing, one of fear

For those who don’t forsake, the end will be near

I read the words several times, knowing that this is somehow the second part of the atonement chant. But why here?

I stand up; the edge of the marble bath comes up to my chest. The bath, like the rest of the room, looks to have been pure white once, but moss and mold have crept their way into cracks over time. I pull myself up and over the side. The water I was in is completely black and sloshes over the sides with my movements, staining the floor so that it’s even dingier. Across the room is a lone doorway leading outside. My feet leave prints as I move towards the opening, almost as if someone is walking behind me.

The air is crisp when I exit. The snow-covered ground slopes downward from the massive mountain range surrounding me. The sun is out and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. I’m soaked and should be freezing, but I feel fine, warm almost. I glance around at the terrain and spot Zander sitting a few feet away, huddled around a small fire. I feel a spark erupt behind my eyes, much like it did when I was with Trel, but I suppress it as I head towards Zander.

“Where are we?” I ask, standing behind him.

He turns around, stands, and hugs me.

“It worked,” he says with a happiness I’ve never heard from him before.

“What did you do?” I ask, pulling away.

“I brought you to the Sacrer Baths and soaked you in the Ashes of the Forgotten. It’s been said they have restorative powers and it worked; you’re alive and healed.”

He throws his arms around me again and nuzzles my neck.

“Where’s Michael?” I ask, still not comprehending exactly what Zander just said.

Zander releases me from his embrace. “No, Aven, you’re not going anywhere near your brother. Not now, not ever.”

“I need to find him.”

Zander firmly grips my arms as he focuses his eyes on mine. “Why?”

“To stop him and Valora.”

He stares at me for a few moments before responding. “If anything happens to you, I can’t bring you back here. The Ashes of the Forgotten only work once.”

“I only need once,” I respond, the spark igniting again.

Zander lets me go and steps back. He seems a bit disturbed by my words, but I don’t have time to worry about his feelings. I need to get to Michael.

Zander turns his back and begins heading north along the base of the mountains, then disappears. I’m swept up seconds after him to the base of the watchtower. I notice the wall Knox busted through is fully repaired. We take the elevator to the top deck, but we aren’t alone. Knox is bent over the pedestal by the map, his fingers moving swiftly. He’s in his human form, which surprises me, but only slightly.

“Where’s Leo?” I ask, glancing around the large span.

“Valora has him,” Knox answers before Zander can.

I glare at the both of them before turning around and heading towards the monitors. I study each one carefully, trying to locate the pair, but something doesn’t look right. The images appear off, slightly animated almost.

“What the hell is this?” I ask Knox and Zander, as I point to the screens.

Knox bows his head and turns back to the pedestal, ignoring me.

Zander’s face tenses up. “It’s for your own good.”

I practically run up to him and grab his throat. “You’re the one who turned off the black lanx.”

“I had to, Aven. I couldn’t risk you running off to find Michael.”

I let him go. “You knew he was going to kill me, didn’t you?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.

I run over to the canvas, slink behind it, and enter the small alcove.

Painting number eight demonstrates the swiftness with which Michael cut my throat. The image only shows the two of us; there isn’t any type of background to it, just white canvas, which makes me think this was always supposed to happen. The location probably changed with each cycle, but since the event stayed the same it was depicted as such.

I turn my head slightly to the right. Painting nine shows me rising from the bath, drenched in the black water. The decay of the marble is very apparent in the image, including the barrel-shaped roof. The only thing missing is the chant.

I pick the frame for number eight off the wall and smash it onto the floor. I punch my foot through the fabric, destroying the image. My heart is practically bouncing out of my chest and my breathing has quickened to the point that I’m gasping. The room starts to spin, causing me to sit on the floor and close my eyes so it’ll stop. The rustle of the heavy cover echoes in my ears, but I don’t look up.

“It’s been that way all along, hasn’t it? Michael was always supposed to kill me,” I say, almost stumbling over my words.

“Yes,” Zander replies.

“And you’ve known from the beginning.” This time I look up at him, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Yes.” His words sound broken, heavily pained. “That’s why I did what I had to in order to try and prevent that painting from coming true.”

“But you didn’t,” I cry as the tears begin to flow harder. “You lied and told me it was Leo who was responsible for it, when you could’ve simple told me it was Michael. You’ve had this whole time to right that wrong. To correct things in the final cycle to make everything change, yet you ignored the chance.” I stand and stick my face right in his. “You’re no Guardian.” I brush past him, push the drapery back, but stop short of exiting. “You’re dismissed, Zander. Your services are no longer required.”

I go and stand next to Knox, who is still fiddling with the map. He doesn’t say a word as Zander takes the elevator down. Knox taps the small screen and transports the watchtower away from the Sabra Mountains. He places his arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him. I want to break down and let loose all emotion, but I know I can’t… not now anyway.

I ask Knox if he can turn the black lanx back on, but he says he doesn’t know how since it was done with magic, so instead he restores the monitors. I still can’t locate Michael, Leo, or Valora, so I change my focus and search for Grey, Gaden Lamen, and Myro. Again, nothing. My eyes slip past the screens and between the branches of the walls. I spot two rows of buildings surrounding a massive stone courtyard with an oblong fountain in its center. The watchtower is about several hundred feet from the longest of the two structures, which turns one of the courtyard’s corners, bending the building ninety degrees.

“Where did you put us?” I ask Knox as he shuts off the map.

“We’re just outside Acad Fields.”

“Why’d you bring us here?”

“You need a better weapon than that dinky ass knife your parents gave you if you plan on stopping Valora and your brother. I know a woman who owns a shop here who can help us.”

I follow him down to the first deck where we grab our winter coats and my rucksack, which contains said knife, my journal, and both lanxes. I search Jarron’s closet for something to cover my head, so I wind up putting a sweatshirt on and draping the hood over my head. We then go down to the base and step out onto the snow-covered ground as the sun shines brightly overhead.

We enter the courtyard through a passage between the two buildings. Despite the cold weather, the place is massive and filled with people, even though it’s freezing. Traveling musicians are playing an uplifting tune as they stand by the fountain, a violin case propped open at their feet with coins scattered inside. I’m not sure what to make of the spectacle, but it’s relaxing to hear. I tuck my hands into my pockets since they’ve gotten cold, but Knox looks as if he’s sweating. I wonder if being a Ligotas means you’re always warm. I’ll need to ask him sometime so I know what to expect.

Knox sidles up next to me and directs us towards the row of shops on our left. It takes a few minutes to work our way through the crowd, but we eventually enter the second shop from the end. Once inside I lower my hood, as the shop is stifling hot. The windows have a light coating of some kind covering them, which makes it difficult to see inside. A bell clangs when the door opens, but I don’t see anyone immediately in the shop.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” a raspy voice calls from somewhere behind a makeshift door at the back.

Thick shelves line the walls, each holding different types of weapons. Swords, battleaxes, spears, muskets, rifles, and other varieties of maiming implements surround us; some even hang from the ceiling. The smell of molten metal and leather permeates the air in the small shop, and it seems to be emanating from the back.

“What is this place?” I ask, looking from one shelf to another, touching the occasional object.

“This place is a weapon-smith shop,” Knox says, hovering by the entrance. “It’s one of ten shops that make up Acad Fields, which is a trade town. Normally the plaza is lined with vendor carts also, but since it’s winter no one keeps shop outside.”

“What’s on the second story?”

“Of this building, there’s an inn. The other contains private apartments. We’ll be staying in the watchtower while we’re here. No need to mingle among everyone when we’re trying to lay low.”

I return to browsing, moving about the room several times just to make sure I’ve seen everything.

“What can I help you with?” a woman asks, finally emerging from the back. Her face turns to shock then hesitation when she notices Knox. “What are you doing here?”

“She needs a sword,” he says, gesturing towards me.

The woman can’t seem to tear her eyes from Knox. It’s almost like she’s entranced. She does eventually turn in my direction, obviously evaluating me from head to toe, so I do the same.

The woman looks to be in her late forties and is about my height, maybe an inch taller. She has a full face, with rosy cheeks. Her hair is long, brown, and kept in dreadlocks with pieces of ivy woven through the tangled mess. She’s wearing a dress, which I find odd as I wouldn’t expect someone in her profession to wear such a garment. A long-sleeved white shirt is tucked neatly under a red velvet overdress, which is tied in the front with drawstrings and has a curved hem.

“Who is she?” the woman asks Knox, while staring at me.

Knox finally steps away from the door, but only moves a quarter of the way into the room.

“Does it matter?” he responds.

I suddenly feel a charge fill the room, but it’s not coming from me. Her body stiffens and her eyes narrow as she stares at me. Is she another Guardian, or something else? I don’t think she’s a Ligotas, but she’s definitely more than human.

The woman finally moves, circling around me like a vulture scoping out her prey.

“I smell Ligotas in her,” she says, huffing like a pig. Her eyes dart up towards Knox. “And in you.”

“It’s a long story, Ruelle,” Knox says, stepping a little further into the store.

“I’ve got time,” she says, backing off. “Meet me in the pub in twenty minutes. Tell the doorman you want my usual table; he’ll know where to place you.” She turns and disappears through the makeshift door.

Knox signals for me to follow him and we exit back into the crowd, which has thinned but only slightly. We cross the plaza back the way we came in, then veer left towards the second building and enter a pub at the far end of the structure. The establishment is constructed from thin plank board and creased leather. Four columns rise from a bar that sits in the middle. The place is packed with people, including some milling about by the bar since they can’t sit down. Knox locates a man standing just on the other side of the door and asks for Ruelle’s table. We’re instantly guided towards the far back corner on the left by what appears to be the entrance into a kitchen. The booth, like the others in the pub, has a high back, thick leather cushion, and a solidly built table that is secured to the floor. I slide across the bench that rests against the kitchen wall, with Knox sitting next to me. We order some drinks, but since their main beverage is ale I wind up only sipping from the mug when it arrives.

It feels like more than twenty minutes since we sat down. The volume of people has grown, but mainly around the bar. Knox reaches over me and picks up a couple of menus that are crammed between a tabletop lantern and the wall. He hands me one, which consists of a single sheet of paper with the menu printed on both sides. I glance at the items then remember that I have no idea what happened to my pouch of money, which I last had with me at the tavern in Welding. I put the menu back and just sip the ale.

When Ruelle does arrive, she’s changed out of the dress and into tight-fitting black pants, knee-high leather boots, and a peasant top, covered by a dark brown fur vest. She slides into the empty seat, signals one of the waiters, and orders more drinks, along with enough food to feed a small army.

“Sorry it took me so long. I had some unexpected business come in, otherwise I would’ve been here sooner,” she says as soon as the waiter leaves.

My mind automatically goes to thoughts of Mitris, Teracs, and Trel. I’ve been betrayed by everyone I know except Knox up to this point, so why not a complete stranger? I’m sure her unexpected business has something to do with me… or is paranoia taking hold of me?

“You okay?” Knox asks, bumping my shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine,” I say, then I try to force a smile, but fail miserably.

Ruelle gives me a weird look, then focuses her attention back to Knox. “So, what’s this long story you have to tell me?”

The waiter delivers the food and drinks Ruelle ordered just as Knox finishes his drink and begins doling out the entire ordeal. He doesn’t leave anything out, which upsets me quite a bit. I’m not sure why he’s being so forthcoming with this information, so I begin to wonder if he’s under the verity spell. However, Ruelle isn’t touching him like she should be in order to get the spell to work. During this entire time Ruelle stuffs her face, and signals for Knox and me to eat whatever we want. Knox has no problem jumping in though his mouth goes a mile a minute, but I’m not sure about any of it. My stomach growls loudly, so I put some of the food on a small plate and eat. I’m on my third helping when Knox finally finishes.

“So, Myro has come out of hiding, has he?” is her first response. “And you’re sure he’s not trying to bring Trel back?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it,” Knox replies.

She nods her head, takes a swig from her mug, and wipes her mouth with a cloth napkin. “He’s the first Ancient to reemerge, but I doubt he’ll be the only one.”

“Do you think they’ll all come back?” Knox asks before I can.

“Doubtful,” she answers. “Parime would only return if his city was in danger, and Reinga hasn’t been heard from in ages.”

“What about Lertis and Delphi?” I ask, leaning forward.

“Delphi could return, but he’d need a compelling reason to. Lertis will do whatever Delphi tells him to.” She takes a couple bites from her plate before continuing. “I’ve heard of Gaden Lamen. He’s had his Mitris in here a few times, but no one will sell to them. We’ll sell to Teracs, but not to Mitris. No one here trusts them, or even knows where they came from.” She winks surreptitiously at Knox, but I catch it.

“What was with the wink?” I ask, my temper rising.

Ruelle casually turns her head in my direction. “Not here,” she says rather briskly. “And watch that Ligotas attitude of yours. It could get you into some serious trouble.”

I want to say something back, but nothing will come to mind. I try to shove Knox out of the booth so I can leave, but he won’t budge.

“Eat some more, Aven,” Ruelle says as her eyes bore into mine. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

I push my plate across the table with such force that it nearly dumps the food onto the seat. This causes Ruelle to laugh, which only makes me more upset. I turn my attention away from the two of them and focus on the faces of those around us. Many are happily drinking together, some are in deep conversation, while others stuff themselves with the admittedly delicious food. As I’m bringing my attention back to Ruelle and Knox’s conversation, a pair of familiar, dusty brown eyes catches my attention. He is hunched over a bowl of soup, his arms wrapped around it for protection. He doesn’t appear to have noticed us, so I quickly avert my eyes in the hopes that he doesn’t.

“Knox,” I say, nudging him as I still look at the man. “We’ve got company.” I nod in the man’s direction.

Knox carefully scopes out the room, but doesn’t show any noticeable reaction when he sees Myro sitting on a stool at the bar.

Heat begins to build as the flame ignites behind my eyes. The red energy flows upward, but Knox grabs my wrist with such force that he breaks my concentration.

“You can’t kill him,” Knox says, his eyes boring into me as if to melt me.

“Why not?” I ask, fighting to be free.

“We should first find out why he’s here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say, my teeth clenched so tight they might break. “If he’s here then you know full well that Gaden Lamen isn’t far behind. I can’t take that risk.”

I try conjuring up the flare again, but it’s Ruelle who stops me this time.

“Aven, look at me,” she says in a very calm, almost melodic voice, which is in stark contrast to her normal voice.

My head turns in her direction and I can’t seem to stop the motion. Our eyes meet and a calm suddenly descends over me like a waterfall.

“He’s not the threat,” she whispers. “There’s another Ancient who has returned that we need to focus our attention on. He’s the one who will cause the region the greatest harm.”

“Who would that be?” Knox asks, leaning forward.

“Delphi,” I answer, which surprises them both.

TWENTY-TWO

“How’d you know?” Ruelle asks, her face contorting into a look of shock and confusion.

“Lucky guess,” I mumble.

“Bullshit, Aven,” Knox says, getting slightly annoyed with me. “You know something.”

“I don’t, I swear,” I say, putting my hands up in defense. “He’s just the logical choice, from everything I’ve heard and seen.”

They stare at me with questioning looks, but then turn their attention back to their own conversation. I’m not comfortable sitting here with Myro only a few feet away. It’ll only take him a few minutes to discover us, and yet Knox and Ruelle don’t appear worried. My anxiety rises and I try to leave, but no matter how much I squirm Knox won’t move. The noise level in the pub doubles when the band begins parading around the stuffed room, playing to cheers and laughter. My head begins to hurt and the room spins slightly from the input overload. I put my hands over my ears and clench my eyes closed, praying for silence.

A cold breeze hits my face as quiet suddenly rushes in around me. I open my eyes and nearly collapse from the sight. I’m standing next to the entrance to Ruelle’s shop. The amount of people in the plaza has dwindled; torches and lanterns line the walkways and storefronts. The sun looks to have set some time ago as the sky is pure black with only a few stars shining. I stay frozen in place as I try to figure out what happened. One minute I’m sitting next to Knox, trying to block the whole world out, and then I wind up here. Do I head back to the pub, or go to the watchtower? What do I say when Knox or Ruelle ask me how I did this?

I don’t even know what this is.

“Aven,” Knox calls from across the way.

I catch him and Ruelle briskly heading towards me, frightened looks on their faces.

“What the hell happened?” Knox asks, grabbing my arm.

“I…I don’t know. I was just trying to calm myself down, and the next thing I know I’m here.”

“Let’s get inside,” Ruelle says as she searches her pockets, pulling out a set of keys. She unlocks the door, but doesn’t turn on a light when we enter. “I don’t think anyone noticed her vanishing,” she adds, locking the door behind us.

She gestures for us to follow her and heads towards the back of the store and through the makeshift door. The back room is filthy, covered in fine black powder, white film, and metal shavings. Against the far wall is a massive oven burning hot, and workbenches encircling the rest of the room. The walls are covered in metallic pieces, leather, glass, and lots of odds and ends that I don’t recognize. Knox pulls over two stools, dusts the crud off them, and has me take a seat on one while he takes the other.

“I should do the reading now,” Ruelle says as she looks over at Knox, who is now leaning forward onto his knees.

“I was hoping we could wait a little longer,” Knox replies.

“Sorry, Knox, but with Myro being here it has to be now.”

“What are you two talking about?” I ask.

Knox turns to me. “Ruelle is a mystic, and has the ability to sense what people are feeling. She can also teach you ways to help ease your mind, so you don’t lose control like you have been.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my mind,” I snap.

Ruelle begins to make her way over to us. “All Ligotas have a very active psyche, which can build to a point of self-destruction. I taught Knox my methods long before he fully turned, so he can easily settle himself. You’re more volatile, unpredictable. I’ve dealt with many Ligotas over my lifetime, but none like you. I know your destiny is to fulfill the Ancients’ prophecy, but that can’t happen if you don’t allow me to help you. The world will be thrown into darkness again, and this time we may never recover from it.”

I glance at the two of them. I feel like a caged animal, the only difference being I’ve placed myself in the cage. It would be nice to have an actual thought that doesn’t cascade into anger, hatred, or carnage. Will I be able to focus better on the task at hand? What if she notices Trel lurking in there? Could she help me shut him out for good?

“Give me your hands,” Ruelle says, standing in front of me.

I place my palms against hers, and she closes her eyes. I’m not sure what to expect, if anything, but I do try to keep an open mind. A small charge passes between the two of us, but nothing else happens. She stays standing with her eyes closed and our hands locked for at least ten minutes. I’m growing bored, and my legs are starting to hurt from sitting on the hard stool for so long. When she does finally open her eyes, they narrow for a brief second then soften.

“Trel likes to torment you, doesn’t he?” she asks, releasing me and stepping back.

I adjust my position before replying, “You have no idea.”

“I can easily block him for you. Of course, that will only last as long as you don’t go after him or enter into the underworld. If you do either, my shields will stop working and you’ll be at his mercy. The other one,” she says, shaking her head. “I can’t help you with.”

“What other one?” Knox asks, anxiety rising in his voice.

Ruelle stares at me, but with sadness instead of anger. “Delphi. Aven is Delphi’s daughter, and he’s on his way to claim her.”

“What?” Knox asks, jumping from his stool, stunned. “How can that be?”

I explain the journey I took through Katrina’s memories and my talks with Trel.

“Did Zander know?” he asks after a long silence.

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation.

“That’s how you were able to shift your location,” Ruelle says. “You have Delphi’s abilities and powers. You just haven’t figured out how to harness them yet.”

“What do we do?” Knox asks, wringing his hands.

Ruelle opens her mouth to answer, when there’s a loud knock on the front door. She tells us to stay put while she goes to answer it. I hop off the stool and crack the door open just enough to see who’s there, but Ruelle has her back to me so I can’t see past her. The voice is what gives it away.

“Hello, Ruelle, I’m so glad you’re still here,” Myro says as the door closes behind him.

“Myro, what a surprise,” Ruelle says, seemingly astonished. “I hadn’t expected the Ancients to be returning.”

“My brothers and sister have no desire to come back to Comoros, so it’s only me,” he says, coming into view.

Ruelle moves behind the small counter between the front of the store and the back door.

“So, what do I owe the pleasure then?” she asks, her voice never wavering.

“A dear friend of mine is looking for a specific weapon, and of course I thought immediately of you,” he says with a smile.

“That’s what I’m here for. What is your friend looking for?”

Myro reaches under his robes and pulls out a Terac pulse emitter weapon. “I would like you to take the technology from this Terac gun and combine it with the rifles the mercenaries carry.”

“Wouldn’t it technically still be the same weapon?” she asks, looking over the Terac weapon.

“The pulse emitter only sends out a small blast which encases the victim’s body, causing temporary paralysis and unconsciousness. What he’d like is for that pulse energy to be contained in the bullet of the rifle so it can enter a person’s body.”

“So, you want me to change a semi-harmless weapon into a deadly one.”

Myro nods.

“This type of customization isn’t cheap. It’ll cost him,” she says, placing the pulse emitter on the counter.

“He’s willing to pay any price.”

“How many will he be needing?”

“Just one… for now.”

She seems to be mulling over the deal, then reaches out her hand and shakes his. “I can have a prototype by tomorrow evening, say around eight?”

“That should be fine. I’ll be staying at the inn for the next couple of days, so I hope you can have a final version for me by then.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”

They shake hands again and Ruelle follows Myro to the door, closing it after he leaves. Before returning to the back, she picks up the Terac gun and begins disassembling it.

“You’re not seriously going to make that for him, are you?” I ask, entering the shop floor with Knox behind me.

“A girl has to eat,” she says, never looking away from the components strewn in front of her.

“He’ll kill people with it,” I say, protesting.

“Isn’t that the point of all weapons, to kill something? Otherwise, what’s a weapon for?” She still won’t look up at us as she continues her work, tearing apart the pulse emitter.

I raise my fist to punch her, but Knox grabs me mid-swing.

“She’s only teasing, Aven,” he says to me. “Ruelle won’t give him a functioning rifle.”

“Spoil all my fun,” Ruelle responds, finally glancing up and laughing.

“What do we do about Delphi?” Knox asks, still clutching my arm.

“I would keep moving around the region if you want to prevent Delphi from getting to her. If she’s not staying in one place for too long, he’ll have a hard time tracking her.”

“What about the prophecy?” I ask.

She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “It’s over. Too many things have go awry for that to ever come to fruition. Right now you need to focus on staying alive. I’m not sure how Delphi will take it when he finds out what Trel and Prime Jarron did to you, but it won’t be pleasant… for anyone.” She drops my hand and changes her focus back to Knox. “I’ll work on Aven’s weapon tonight. Come back for it in the morning – it’ll be ready.”

“What about the invocations to help soothe her mind?” Knox asks.

“All of that will be handled tomorrow,” Ruelle replies, going back to her project.

Knox pushes me towards the entrance, but before shoving me outside he first looks around to make sure Myro isn’t nearby. The plaza is completely empty; the snow, once again, has begun to fall. We hurry out, go around the building, and head towards the watchtower. I don’t say a word until we’re up on the first deck.

“You trust her?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“She convinced the Guardians to accept me. I owe her everything,” he answers as he heads towards the bathroom.

I’m exhausted from the events of the day, so I go into Jarron’s bedroom and lock myself in. I’m deeply disturbed by Myro’s request and Ruelle’s acceptance of it. Knox may trust her, but I don’t. I’m sure Gaden Lamen is with him, or soon will be, so I don’t want to hang around here any longer. I debate whether or not to pack my bags and go, but what good would that do? I’d still be in the same predicament, but alone. I don’t want to think anymore, I just want to hide from the world. After changing I get under the covers, pull them as far as I can over my head, and try to get some sleep.

I toss and turn for hours. Every muscle in my body aches. I finally give up and go into the kitchen to get a drink. I spot Knox sound asleep on one of the six beds that lay nestled off to the right of the kitchen, snoring so loudly that I’m surprised he doesn’t wake himself up. I turn on a small light in the kitchen so I can see what I’m doing. I open the door to the refrigerator, take out the orange juice, and dump the contents into a tiny glass.

“Where is he?” a harsh voice behind me asks.

I spin around and catch only a glimpse of who the voice belongs to. I flip on another light in the kitchen, and the light cast into the living room allows me to see Grey Coulson sitting comfortably in one of the plush chairs.

“How did you get in here?” I ask.

“Answer my question,” he growls.

“Who? Leo?”

“Yes, you idiot, who else would I be asking about?”

I try to keep a smile from creeping onto my face. “Valora has him,” I say nonchalantly.

“You’re lying,” he says, pushing himself up from the chair.

“Sorry, I’m afraid not.” I set the glass down on the counter. “Now, how the hell did you get in here?”

“It wasn’t hard,” he says with a slight chuckle. “You’re easy to locate if you know what to look for.” He glances over at Knox, but only for a moment.

“He didn’t tell you where we were,” I say, nodding over to Knox as my hands ball up into fists. “How did you find us?”

He frowns then raises his arms, and his sleeves slide back to reveal a pair of couplings. “Did you know they’re all linked together? If I concentrate hard enough, I can see and hear everything you can, as well as seeing and hearing anyone who’s wearing a set. That’s how I found you. Now, where’s Leo?”

“I already told you, Valora has him!” I shout so Knox will wake up, but he doesn’t.

“It’s all in your mind,” Trel whispers. “Grey isn’t really there.”

“You’re lying, Aven, I know you are. Prime Jarron told me he’s with you.”

“When did Jarron tell you this?”

“This morning while he was meeting with Gaden Lamen, just before Gaden left for the Acad Fields.”

Shit, he’s here with Myro. I knew it. Valora must be using the replica locket that she took from me. I wonder where the one I swiped off her is. What did Zander do with it?

“He’s using a spell, Aven. You can counteract it with a fallacy revolt spell,” Trel says, louder this time.

“That wasn’t Prime Jarron you saw,” I say, taking a step back into the kitchen as I scan the countertops for a weapon.

“Of course it was; who else could it have been?”

“Valora, using a Ligotas relic called a replica locket. It can make you look like anyone,” I answer as I put my hands behind my back and begin to search the drawers behind me.

“Why would she need to do that if she’s wearing a set of Kerai Couplings?”

I freeze. “The ones from the Terac Guardian?”

He nods.

I continue my search, finally locating a butcher knife in a utensil caddy next to the sink. I grab the handle and hurl it at Grey, but it goes right through him.

“I told you it was a spell,” Trel says with a laugh.

I think back to everything I’ve learned, which isn’t a hell of a lot. I can’t recall seeing any mention of a fallacy revolt in the spell book or tome.

“Don’t know it?” Trel asks, his tone getting serious. “Fine, then let me handle it, but hold onto your head - this is going to hurt.”

Pressure builds behind my eyes, then floods through the back of my head. The pain is so intense that I have to scream to distract myself. Through the streams of tears running down my face, I catch Grey’s figure flickering then finally disappearing. I close my eyes as the pain begins to subside, but when I open them I’m back in the bedroom, under the covers, the sun shining through the branches.

“You see, Aven, you need me. Zander is no longer around to teach you the spells you need to know in order to survive. I can. Come let me out.”

“Go away,” I whisper. My throat feels raw and my voice weak.

“There’s only one way to get rid of me. That little fruitcake Ruelle can’t quiet me no matter what chants or mantras she tries to force down your throat. You’re stuck with me, Aven… until death.”

TWENTY-THREE

Knox has breakfast ready for me when I finally emerge from the bedroom. He tells me he found me collapsed on the kitchen floor, so he put me back in bed. He asks what happened, but I don’t tell him anything despite his repeated questions. I just want to get my weapon and leave Acad Fields.

“Ruelle has pushed back our appointment to this afternoon,” Knox says as we clean up.

“Did she say why?”

“No.”

I stop what I’m doing and turn so we’re facing each other. “And yet you still trust her?”

“Yes, Aven, I do.”

I shake my head, turn, and go back into the bedroom. I begin tearing the room apart, looking for the locket. When I don’t find it, I take the elevator to the second deck and rummage through everything. I finally locate it buried under a stake of blank journal pages. I go back down to the first deck, grab my winter coat, and strap my rucksack across my chest.

“Would Ruelle or Myro know what Ceri looks like?” I ask Knox, who has taken a seat in the library.

“Myro won’t, but Ruelle will know instantly that it’s you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He stands, but doesn’t approach me. “Ceri was Ruelle’s sister. She knows Ceri is dead, so you parading around as her with that replica locket is a horrible idea.”

“Then what do you propose?”

“I go see Ruelle, but you follow me using the concealment charm.”

“Fine.”

He gets his coat, along with a belt of knives he had hidden in one of the drawers in the kitchen. We take the elevator down, and as soon as we’re out of the protective shield I apply the charm. I expect Knox to go towards the plaza the same way we did yesterday, but he doesn’t. His approach is more to the left of the main pathway, so we’re behind the row of shops. He knocks on the back door to the weapon-smith and waits until Ruelle opens it. She looks slightly startled to see him, but welcomes him inside all the same. I have to quickly slip behind Knox so I don’t get left outside.

“Where’s Aven?” Ruelle asks as she goes back to her oven, which has several metal rods heating up inside.

“She’s back at the watchtower.”

“Oh.” Ruelle doesn’t sound too convinced by his answer, but she doesn’t push the subject. “So, what brings you by?”

“I was wondering why you changed the time we were to meet. It’s been bugging me, and I need an answer.”

“Myro’s acquaintance stopped by late last night. He’s supposed to be coming back any minute now and I didn’t think you’d want to run into him. That’s why I came out to you and changed our time.”

“You made the weapon?” Knox asks just as I’m opening my mouth, before I blurt it out and give myself away.

“It doesn’t work, Knox.” She turns and goes to one of her workbenches, where she pulls a dusty rag off a short-barreled rifle made out of a thin metal; the stock is freshly polished wood. “This is only for show,” she says, handing it to him. “The bullets he wants are a little more complex than I thought, so it’s going to take longer. I figure by then you and Aven will have taken care of him… and Myro.”

“Still, why would you go ahead with it? And where’s Aven’s weapon?” Knox asks, his voice rising.

“It’s over there,” she says pointing to a blade in a leather scabbard with long straps.

I go over to it to have a closer look then step to one side. Knox draws the sword and holds it up to the light. The blade is straight and long, approximately thirty inches, and constructed out of steel with small flecks of gold. The grip is made from cherry wood with gold trim, and the cross guard, which separates the blade from the handle, is solid gold filigree. Knox puts the sword back in its scabbard, but doesn’t let go of it.

“I’ll take this and give it to her,” he says, lifting if off the table.

Ruelle turns and scowls at him. “Seriously, Knox? Like I don’t know she’s here. What the hell is wrong with the two of you?”

“Just being cautious,” I answer, dissolving the charm.

Knox hands the sword to me, and after a closer examination I realize the long straps are so I can put the scabbard on my back. I take off my winter coat, strap the weapon between my shoulder blades, and place my coat back over it.

“You two have serious trust issues,” she says before turning back to the oven.

“Can you blame us?” I ask.

“You, Aven, no. Knox is a different story,” she replies without turning around.

I can sense a rebuttal about to escape Knox’s lips, when the bell above the front door chimes. Ruelle wipes her hands on the apron covering her dress and excuses herself with the rifle in hand. She’s only gone a few minutes before returning.

“You two need to leave, now,” she practically demands.

“Why, what happened?” Knox asks.

Ruelle is clearly shaken. “Stop asking questions and go.”

I take Knox’s arm and apply the concealment charm to the both of us. I’m not sure why I choose to do that instead of leaving out the back door, but it’s what my mind told me to do. The makeshift door to the shop abruptly opens, Gaden Lamen filling in the space.

“You ran off rather quickly,” he says to Ruelle, who is in the midst of calming herself down.

Once she appears to have a grip on her senses, she turns and faces him. “Sorry about that; I thought I smelled smoke, and I was right. I needed to take a couple of my molds out of the oven before they became too spoiled.”

“Ah,” he says. “Well now, since that’s settled, how about we continue our discussion.” He hands her the rifle. “The barrel will need to be a millimeter bigger to fit the pellets I’ve had created for this weapon.”

“I thought your associate also wanted me to also create the bullets.”

“He did. I don’t. The alchemist next door has managed to put together everything I need in regard to ammunition.” Gaden takes a step closer. “Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not. When would you like the final version of the rifle?”

“I’ll have Myro come by in a few hours to claim it.”

“It’ll be ready,” she says with a smile.

He returns the gesture perfunctorily then steps out of the room. The bell above the door indicates his departure, but I still wait a few moments before ending the charm.

“That’s why you looked so frightened,” Knox says, stepping up to Ruelle, taking her into his arms.

“Just take the sword and get out of here,” she says, pulling away from him.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I have places I can hide.” She stands on her toes and kisses his cheek. “Now go, before he comes back.”

We bolt out the back door, running as fast as possible back to the watchtower. Once we’re inside, Knox goes to the second deck and changes our location. I don’t pay attention to where he places us. My main focus is on the rest of the spells I need to learn as soon as possible.

It’s hours before I take my first break. I can’t take any more runes, so I go looking for something else to read among the many books in the library. I find an anthology, similar to the one I took from the temple. I flip through the pages slowly, laughing occasionally at some of the short stories. I stop when I come across one titled “The Nihilum”.

I’ll show you the past and where everything hides

But be mindful of those who will try to divide

Together we meet, though only for a moment

What great surprises you’ll see for every opponent

A plate full of hope, longing, and fear

To those who would wish us near

Four discs shine as one, our secrets exposed

But to only those we truly behold

At the bottom of the page is a sketch of the plate Gaden Lamen showed me, each compartment filled with a colored disc of blue, red, green, or black. I take the book upstairs to Knox, who has been keeping an eye on the monitors.

“Do you know about this?” I ask, showing him the page.

“Vaguely. I think Ceri had it with her. She was supposed to show Michael how to use it with three of the required four discs.”

“What does it do?”

“If all the discs, or even only a couple of the discs, are placed in their respective spaces, energy is drawn from them to a center point in the plate, and all information is projected just a few inches above the plate. Kind of what happens when you place your black disc on the journal page, but it combines all the data.”

“But Gaden Lamen has this plate now.”

“Yup,” he says, biting his lip.

“And Michael has the red lanx.”

“At least the blue one is lost. That one falling into Gaden’s hands would be disastrous. He’s already eliminating the Ligotas, so I’m sure the Sacrer are next.”

“I’m not sure he is eliminating the Ligotas.”

“Why do you say that?”

I finally tell him about the other night, when he found me unconscious in the kitchen. “Grey mentioned that Valora is wearing a set of Kerai Couplings, which came from one of the Guardians posing as a Terac officer. The only way that could’ve happened is if Gaden Lamen gave them to her personally, as he’s wearing the other Guardian’s set.”

“But why would Valora be working with the Mitris?”

I take a seat next to him and try to wrap my head around it all. “Valora was able to free herself from Trel in the underworld, but she left him there,” I begin, thinking out loud. “She gets back to Comoros and her first stop is to visit Gaden Lamen? No, that can’t be right.”

“How did she get out? That’s the question we should be asking ourselves,” Knox says.

“Trel mentioned that the Ancients can move in and out of the underworld at will. Maybe one of them went down and got her.”

“It had to have been Myro; he’s the only one dumb enough to do something like that.”

“But he left Trel behind,” I add. “Wouldn’t he want to rescue his son?” Something pops into my head. “Delphi trapped Trel there. He’s chained inside some sort of cave. With his power, Myro wouldn’t be able to free Trel. He wouldn’t know how.”

“But if he brings an enemy of Delphi’s back to the surface to help bring down the Ancients –”

“He’d be able to secure Trel’s freedom,” I say, finishing his sentence. “He can’t do it alone, so he needs Gaden Lamen to help.”

“He’s not much help, though. He’s killing people to get his way. I would think an Ancient would be against such practices.”

I want to tell Knox that I think the same thing, but I don’t. The Ancients aren’t the protective and loving individuals they perceive themselves to be. Each one has their own agenda, so what’s Myro’s? Is his sole purpose to take revenge on his brother for banishing his son to the underworld? Does he want the entire Sacrer religion to be destroyed, which is where Gaden Lamen comes in? I’m rubbing my forehead to try and relieve the tension from all my questions when a bright flash floods the room. It came from the corner with the paintings, so Knox and I get up and go under the cover.

Painting number ten is alight with flame. The City of Delphi is burning to the ground, with the kerk breaking apart in the center of it.

“I thought Ruelle said the prophecy was over,” I ask, my eyes glued to the bright image.

“I guess it’s not,” Knox responds before bolting out of the alcove.

“Put us right next to the kerk,” I shout as I rush after him.

“Are you nuts? If that building gets destroyed it could expose us.”

“I don’t care; we need to be as close to the kerk as possible.”

He grumbles, but adjusts our position so the base of the watchtower is neatly against the vestibule for the kerk. I leave him behind as I take the elevator to the first deck, grab my sword, strap it on my back, and head down to the bottom. The air is thick with smoke as I exit the shield. Sparks fill the sky as flames dance in the haze. I take the steps down to the sanctuary, where I find Dean Chares tending to some people who look to have sought refuge there.

“What happened?” I ask, pulling him away.

“It’s Michael. He’s not himself. He’s… changed.”

The nightmare I had so long ago rushes back. I grab the dean’s shoulder to steady myself.

“Where is he?”

“No, Aven, you can’t go up against him. He’s turned; he’s a full Ligotas now and he’ll rip you to shreds.”

“I have to stop him, dean. I’m the only one who can.”

A large explosion rips open the ceiling to the sanctuary. I have to shield my eyes from the debris so I can get a clear picture of what caused it. The Sacrer symbol engraved on the floor of the vestibule is now floating in chunks just feet above the sanctuary, and rising. Knox emerges in Ligotas form, tossing a Mitris across the sky.

He reaches in to grab my hand but is pulled back immediately, vanishing from sight. I climb the stairs, or at least what’s left of them. Valora has her talons jammed into Knox’s shoulders and is dragging him across the stone roads that circle the kerk. I’m reaching for my sword when something sharp grabs me around the neck, lifting me off the ground. I squirm in the tight grasp, but I only wind up cutting myself more. I’m thrown against a partially-collapsed wall and land hard, but surprisingly, nothing is broken.

Michael lands inches in front of me, his shimmering navy-colored wings moving in rhythm with his breathing. He’s every bit the monster I imagined him to be. He grabs me again, this time shoving both of us through crumbling walls and ceilings. He finally stops, but has me pinned.

“I’m not going to fight you, Michael,” I say as his sharp nails dig into my flesh.

“This is all your fault, Aven,” he practically hisses at me. “If only you’d listened the first time, none of this would be happening.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, pleading. “Please, Michael, you have to stop this. She’s using you.”

“You don’t honestly believe that,” he says, mocking me. “Tell the truth, Aven.”

I lose control of all thought. He has his other hand tightly wound around my wrist and I can’t escape. I fight to regain power over myself, but I feel my life draining away.

“What are you doing to me?” I ask, my voice becoming weaker by the second.

“A trick I learned from Myro. I’m absorbing your life force; soon you’ll be dead. There will be no resurrection for you this time.”

I try to hold on, but darkness begins to set in.

A scream fills the air, but it’s not coming from me. I fall to the ground and start coughing as my senses return. Michael is writhing on the ground; one of his wings has been severed from his body. I look around and notice Leo standing a few feet away, holding my sword with both hands. He rushes towards me, picks me up, and hurries me toward an alleyway. He puts the weapon down and begins to assess my wounds.

“How did this happen?” I ask, hoping to get an answer.

“Valora and Michael infiltrated Otrar with some inside help,” Leo answers, ripping his shirt to use as bandages on my wounds.

“What? How is that possible?”

“You know that vaccine Gaden Lamen made everyone take while they were here? Well, it wasn’t what he thought it was. Turns out Myro, with the assistance of a Valora, created a serum that turns people into Ligotas without them having to go through a ritual like Michael did.”

“Where’s Gaden?”

“He’s fortifying the other cities with the remaining Teracs and the Mitris who weren’t injected. My father tried to get me to go with him, but I refused.”

“Your dad is here?”

Leo lowers his head. “Valora killed him in hopes it would win me her loyalty, but she was wrong,” he says with a little laugh. He picks up the sword and hands it to me. “Take this and get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving without Knox, or you.”

He grumbles. “Fine, let’s go then.”

I carry the sword in hand as we run across to the kerk, where Knox is still battling Valora. He’s badly beaten, but isn’t giving up. I tell Leo to get everyone out of the sanctuary while I try to help Knox. He climbs down and starts ushering people to safety. The dean is the last one and he’s refusing to leave. I climb down to get him moving.

“You have to go,” I yell at him, to be heard over the roar of the war raging feet above us. “You’ll die if you stay here.”

“Then that’s my destiny,” he shouts back.

“I can’t let you do that,” I say, grabbing him by the arm and sheathing the sword.

I try to shift our location, but a flash of light to my left halts my momentum. Painting eleven shows the fountain in the sanctuary shattered into hundreds of pieces, a shiny object glistening among the fragments. I try to adjust my eyes so I can make out the image better but something flies in through the ceiling, hitting me in the side and breaking my hold on Dean Chares.

I should be broken, bleeding from the impact, but I only feel dazed. I shake my head which causes dust to fall into my eyes, stinging them. I glance around the room as best I can, trying to locate the dean and Leo, but it’s the gold chain that catches my attention. I reach for it, but my hand is stepped on by an ashen-fleshed foot with navy-colored talons. Michael bends down and picks up the amulet. He places it around his neck, smiles, and heals himself.

“Thanks, Aven. We’ve been looking for this.” He steps off my hand and goes over to where Dean Chares is lying, covered in blood. “I told him time and time again that this wasn’t going to end well for him,” Michael says, kicking at the lifeless body.

I know Michael’s next move, so I quickly grasp Leo’s hand and cast a concealment charm on him. Red energy envelops me like never before, consuming my whole body. I direct it towards Michael, who doesn’t have time to block the flare. His screams fill the kerk, his body glowing red as it begins to burn from the inside out. I don’t know if I’m the only one casting this spell, or if I’m getting help from Trel like I did last time.

The amulet falls to the ground, among a pile of ash that was once my brother. I let go of Leo, crawl over to the remains, and cry. I’ve spent so long trying to save Michael that I wind up destroying him. I know I should properly grieve for my brother, but with the fires raging above I don’t have enough time. I take the amulet, toss it to Leo, and order him to put it on. He can tell by the sound of my voice that he shouldn’t ask questions, so he does what he’s told.

“Now, think of yourself as invisible,” I say to him. “Blend into your surroundings and get as far from here as possible. Don’t look back, don’t wait for me, just go.”

“No, I’m not leaving you here to die.”

“That’s not part of my prophecy,” I respond with a small grin.

He comes over to me, kisses me hard on the lips, and vanishes.

I look up to find Valora staring down at me, blood dripping from her long fingernails. I try to see if Knox is around, but I can’t see him. She darts into the sanctuary, but I shift my location to just outside the kerk. Knox was right about the watchtower: it’s now a wreckage of molten metal and burning wood. Fires still burn out of control around me as ash falls to the ground like snow. Valora soars out of the sanctuary and lands thunderously a few feet to my right. I conceal myself, but I know it won’t take her long to find me since our couplings are linked to each other. I hurry around the plaza, trying to find Knox.

A dark heap of torn rags lies on the burnt stone of the pavement. Knox is no longer in his Ligotas form, and has deep, bloody gashes across his abdomen. I disengage the concealment charm, take his hand, and shift our location.

TWENTY-FOUR

It takes several shifts to get inside the Sacrer baths. I place Knox into the bath, shoving him under so he’s completely covered by the black water. I don’t hold him down for long because I’m afraid of drowning him. His body surfaces, but there’s no change. I push him down again, still nothing happens.

“I told you the Ashes of the Forgotten only work once,” Zander says, coming out from the shadows.

I collapse onto the floor, leaning my heavy body against the bath. I cry uncontrollably, letting all my feelings of the past hour out into the world. Zander stays leaning against the far wall, staring at me.

“Is this how it was always supposed to end?” I ask as sobs shake my body. “Did Knox know this was going to happen?”

Zander hesitates in answering. He pulls himself away from the wall and takes a seat a few inches away from me. “Yes, Aven, this is the prophecy. Knox knew from the beginning what his fate was to be, and he accepted it. He’s finally at peace with himself and the world.”

I bite my lip and look away from Zander. “What happens now?”

“We go back to the gardens and wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“The second coming.”

I glare at him. “You mean this isn’t over? There’s more?”

He stands and reaches down to me. “Your father is waiting for you, Aven,” he says.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

“He’ll force you. You have no options at this point. You never did.”

I close my eyes, but I can’t conjure anything. My mind is empty, a blank canvas. I open my eyes, stand, and head towards the door. Once Zander is next to me, he takes my hand and I shift us to the Zerah entrance for the gardens. I pass through the gates with Zander right behind me, which I find odd. All the flowers are still in full bloom and the water in the pools is crystal clear. We don’t stop walking until we step onto the floor of the massive structure, but we’re not alone. Standing on the other side is a tall man with an athletic build, piercing blue eyes, and black hair graying at the temples.

“I knew you were alive the moment your blood hit the water,” Delphi says, pointing to the large pool between us. “I’m so happy everything has worked out how I planned.”

“My brother is dead, my village destroyed, and I’ve been betrayed by everyone I’ve ever met,” I say through gritted teeth. “And you’re happy?” I unsheathe the sword, but only hold it next to me. “You put me through hell. I should kill you.”

“It was necessary, Aven, in order for you to grow into the powerful woman you are right now.”

“I didn’t ask for this… for any of this.”

“No one ever does,” Delphi says with a smile.

I cock my head to the side. “I’m not the first, am I?”

“No, you’re not,” Zander answers. “But you’re the only one to get this far.”

I look over at him, puzzled by his response. “So, the twelve cycles… did they actually ever happen before?”

“Yes, but not with you,” Zander says, turning slightly so we’re face to face.

“Aven, you were always supposed to be the last one,” Delphi says, stepping closer to the pool. “None of others compared to what you’ve become.”

“Prime Jarron poisoned me. I’m turning into a Ligotas, so there goes your perfect ending,” I say with as much hatred as I can.

“The Ashes of the Forgotten took care of that,” Zander replies. “I told you I could fix it.”

“But you needed Michael to kill me first,” I state matter-of-factly. “Wait…wait a minute. If I was cured, then why can Trel still talk to me in my mind? His only connection to me was his blood flowing in my veins.”

“You must not be fully rid of him yet,” Delphi answers. “That might be useful.”

I glance between the two of them, smiles of satisfaction on their faces. “I don’t believe this,” I say, stepping back. “You two are unbelievable.”

“Aven,” Delphi snaps at me. “The time has come for you to stop with this foolishness and listen to your father. You’re coming with Zander and me, and you will not return to Comoros until the second coming has begun.”

I hold the sword in front of me. “I’m not going.”

“Is that the sword Ruelle made for you?” Delphi asks.

“So what if it is?” I respond, stepping back again.

He snaps his fingers and the weapon disappears. “You’ll get that back later,” Delphi says, placing his arms down in front of him.

“Fine, but it doesn’t matter where you take me. Valora has a set of the Kerai Couplings, and from my understanding they’re all linked to each other.”

“You won’t be needing yours any longer.”

Delphi waves his hand and heat suddenly envelops my wrists. I pull my sleeves back and catch the last glimmer of the couplings before they completely dissolve.

“What about me?” Zander asks.

Delphi waves his hand again, removing Zander’s couplings. “As promised, Zander, you can now conduct magic without the devices.”

He smiles as he rubs the skin around his wrists, which is discolored from years of having to wear the metal jewelry.

“Now come, Aven, it’s time to leave,” Delphi says, gesturing for me to be next to him.

I don’t want to move, but Zander lovingly takes my hand and pulls me along.

“You can’t leave me here!” Trel screams in my head as Delphi takes my other hand.

Comoros disappears, and I’m surrounded by nothing but light.

End of Book One