Robert Keller - The Heart of Shadows

"As I told you earlier," said Shennen, "you must become a fully trained Blue Knight and learn to channel the Eye of Divinity through your sword. You must become like the Dark Watchmen of old in learning to focus your power in ways that will enhance your combat skills."

Lannon wondered if Shennen had lost his wits. "But the Dark Watchmen turned to evil. Didn't you hear the story Jace just told? And Taris has warned me as well not to follow the path they took."

"I know the story," said Shennen. "And I understand Taris' concerns. But I fear greatly for your survival. Your relentless foes will eventually catch you off guard and kill you. You are the most hated foe of Tharnin-because you are a living symbol of the power of the Divine Essence. The White Flamestone is merely an object-as mighty as it is-but you are alive and easily despised. If you do not train yourself as a Dark Watchman, I'm convinced that you will soon be dead."

With that, Shennen ended the conversation.

Later that night they camped near a grove of pines. Lannon lay awake after everyone else was asleep. The assassination attempt dominated his thoughts, as he struggled to make sense of it. He also searched his memory for clues he'd missed that would have revealed Thrake's link to Tharnin, but could find none.

Lannon pondered what Shennen had told him, how if he didn't enhance his training and focus-like the Dark Watchmen of ancient times-he would surely die. But if Lannon went that route, he risked losing himself to the Deep Shadow, a fate some believed to be worse than death. For Thrake, that fate had indeed been worse than death, because Thrake's reputation was forever tarnished. He wasn't even allowed a proper burial at Dremlock.

When Lannon thought of the lonely pile of ashes in the snow that had once been Thrake Wolfaxe, his heart was weighed down by sadness. All the years of sacrifice and hard work the Red Knight had put into his service at Dremlock had been undone quickly and easily by the Deep Shadow. It seemed terribly unfair that Dremlock wasn't allowed to honor Thrake, as if all those years of defending the kingdom suddenly meant nothing. Because the Sacred Laws came from the Divine Essence itself, they were not open to debate and Lannon wasn't even supposed to question them privately. But some of those laws seemed far too strict and judgmental, and Lannon couldn't help but question the reasoning behind them.

Lannon's thoughts toward Thrake became almost an obsession, and he realized that a quiet voice was whispering in his mind, urging him to leave the tent. Lannon hesitated to obey, however, believing it to be some trick of the Deep Shadow. He sent the Eye of Divinity outside the tent and found four Knights standing guard. He couldn't sense any danger.

The voice in Lannon's mind became pleading, and at last Lannon pulled his fur cloak tighter around himself and stepped out into the frosty air. The voice was coming from the edge of the pine grove, and the Eye of Divinity revealed a shadow there, standing atop the snow. It was a shadow only Lannon could see. Chills crept over the Squire's flesh, for he sensed no life there-only a ghost of a man who'd once been alive. It was sorcery that seemed to have no end and no beginning, infinite and detached and having little bearing upon the world.

The guards glanced at Lannon questioningly.

He pointed to where the shade awaited him. "I must go there alone, just to the edge of the grove. Business concerning the Eye." Two of the guards went and scouted the area for danger, then returned and motioned him on.

Lannon and Prince Vannas were normally so carefully guarded they couldn't go anywhere alone, but Lannon was also allowed to make use of his power as he saw fit. In that regard, he had more freedom than Vannas.

Lannon approached the shade slowly and cautiously, having no idea why it had appeared and was summoning him. But as he drew close, the Eye of Divinity saw through the shadows and the face of Thrake Wolfaxe was revealed. Lannon took a step back, startled. This was not who he'd expected to see.

Thrake's shade was blue in hue-almost frozen looking-and faintly glowing in the moonlight. His eyes had a hollow, dreary look to them. In one hand he held a glowing pale-blue light, like a strange lantern.

"Thrake!" Lannon whispered.

One of the guards started toward Lannon-perhaps to remind him not to stray out of sight-but Lannon turned and motioned him back with a wave. The guard glanced at the others, then reluctantly did as Lannon ordered. The four Knights watched him with curious expressions, their hands on their weapons.

"Yes, it is me," the shade replied in a detached, inhuman voice that seemed to come from all around Lannon.

"Why have you come to me?" Lannon asked. He didn't want to speak to Thrake's ghost-especially when that ghost looked tormented. He wanted Thrake laid to rest and living on as a memory. Lannon cursed the Eye of Divinity for allowing this form of communication, thinking his power could be torturous sometimes. He was certain he wouldn't like what Thrake had to say.

"Calm yourself, Lannon," said Thrake. "I'm not here to harm you, but to guide you. I have come to give you a dire warning."

Lannon groaned, weary of dire warnings. "If this is about the Dark Watchmen…"

"It is about the will of Tharnin," said Thrake.

"What happened to you?" Lannon asked. "How did…?"

"It was the Dragon bones," said Thrake. "Like Shennen, I became obsessed with them. But unlike Shennen, I didn't have the wisdom to resist their power. They corrupted me and I became a Dragon Knight, bound to the service of the Great Dragon. I was filled with sorcery and evil-and cunning. I was able to fool everyone except Shennen. I enjoyed killing the Knights in Dorok's Hand. I relished being a traitor. That is how lost my soul had become."

Thrake paused, raising his lantern, and his eyes gleamed like silver coins. Twice, he chanted in a strange, quivering, and shrill voice: "The fall of Dremlock nears! The wolves hunt for blood beneath the moon!"

"What are you saying?" asked Lannon, shuddering.

Thrake lowered the lantern and stood in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry, Lannon. I was lost in the fog for a moment."

"I don't see any fog," said Lannon, and he was wracked by chills. "You were talking about wolves and the fall of Dremlock. I've heard something like that before, from Trenton. Is Dremlock actually going to fall?"

"All things must eventually pass in your world," said Thrake. "Ask me no more concerning the fate of Dremlock. Promise me you will focus on the here and now and not worry about the will of fate."

Reluctantly, Lannon nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Are you okay, Lannon?" one of the guards called out.

"I'm using the Eye of Divinity," Lannon called back. "I'm not in any danger. I must not be disturbed until my task is finished."

The guards spoke to each other, then signaled him to proceed. However, they continued to watch him closely, looking puzzled. A moment later, one them entered Taris' tent, perhaps to inform him of Lannon's odd behavior.

"The Dragon will recruit another Knight," said Thrake. "The bones must be buried deep in the ground-forever. You must pass my warning onto Taris immediately. Do not wait until morning!"

"I'll tell him right away," said Lannon. He hesitated, then added, "And I'll tell Jerret I spoke to you and that you seem to be doing fine."

Thrake wailed and hissed, and Lannon shrank back. A moment later, Thrake calmed down. "Tell Jerret nothing of this visit! He does not deserve to be lied to, and the truth would be very painful for him. I am not doing fine. The curse of Tharnin stains my soul and denies me rest. I must go on a long journey to free myself…a journey that will take me over the hills of ice and through the valley of the Frost Giants. I am the Spirit of the Snows, the Child of Winter, and until I am free I will never see spring again. The snows do not melt here, where I exist. The ice forever hangs from the boughs. Let Jerret remember me as I was."