Robert Keller - The Heart of Shadows

"I don't like this situation at all," Jerret said, his hand on his broadsword hilt. "We're sure to be attacked in our sleep."

"Relax," said Lannon. "There is no reason the Blood Legion would attack us. We struck a deal with them, remember?"

"The Blood Legion has no honor," said Jerret. "We can't trust them to keep their word. We sit here like fools, surrounded by a sea of enemies."

"Enemies who would perish in white fire," said Prince Vannas, "if they dared attack us." The prince lay on his back on the floor, the pouch containing the White Flamestone resting atop his chest. "You worry too much, Jerret."

"And you have too much confidence in that stone," said Jerret. "Look what happened beneath Elder Oak, when you were nearly crushed by a Wolf."

"That was just bad luck," said Vannas. "It won't happen again."

" Anything can happen," said Jerret. "Haven't you figured that out yet? All it takes is for you to lose your grip on the Flamestone and that advantage is gone. Sorry, Prince Vannas, but I'm not counting on your shiny gem for protection. I'll rely on my wits and my sword instead, thank you."

"Good plan, Jerret," said Lothrin, from where he lay beneath his quilt. "For once, you're speaking words of wisdom."

Jerret drew his sword. "I'm going to step outside and scout around a bit. I'll stay close to the tent, though."

Galvia patted the floor next to her. "Sit down, Jerret. We're under heavy guard, remember? And you're making me tired just watching you pace."

Jerret hesitated, then sheathed his sword. He slumped down next to her. "But you agree with me, right? There is going to be bloodshed tonight."

"I hope not," said Galvia, sighing. "I don't have my strength back yet. It pains me to even walk around, let alone attempt combat."

"Don't worry," said Jerret. "You've got me to look after you."

Galvia smiled. "True enough."

Lannon sat apart from the others, wanting to be alone. He kept thinking of what the Eye had revealed about Timlin, and the last of his hope was draining away. Timlin truly was a monster-worse than Vorden, for Timlin wasn't wearing the Hand of Tharnin, a device that could be removed. Rather, Timlin's very soul had been made foul and there was simply nothing left of who he'd once been. Timlin would never surrender or change his ways. He would haunt Dremlock until the Divine Knights put an end to him.

"You look sad, my friend," said Lothrin. "What troubles you?"

Lannon hesitated, then revealed what was on his mind.

"I'm sorry, Lannon," said Aldreya. "I don't have the Eye of Divinity, but I knew the truth before you did. Unlike Vorden, Timlin willingly betrayed Dremlock. He is beyond hope."

"No one is beyond hope," said Lothrin. "There is always a chance for redemption."

"Not for Timlin Woodmaster," said Vannas. "His heart is rotten."

"Yes," said Lannon, "his heart is rotten. And there is no hope for him. I suppose he is better off dead. And now I realize there was no hope for Vorden, either. The Deep Shadow is too strong. Once it claims someone, they're lost forever. At least Thrake was put out of his misery."

"That doesn't sound like you, Lannon," said Jerret, a flash of pain in his eyes at the mention of Thrake's name. "You never give up on anyone. What made you so cynical all of a sudden?"

"I guess I've been a fool," said Lannon. "I should have listened to the Knights. They warned me about the Deep Shadow."

"Don't surrender your optimism, Lannon," said Lothrin. "It is actually your greatest weapon against the Deep Shadow."

"I doubt it," said Lannon. "My optimism hasn't done any good at all. The Eye of Divinity is my greatest weapon, and it can't save anyone from the Deep Shadow. I think it's time I faced up to reality." He knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn't help himself. He was sad and weary of his burdens.

Jace wandered in and sat down. He had a loaf of bread in one hand and an ale jug in the other. "Greetings, Squires. Taris asked me to check on you and see if you needed anything."

"When are we going to be attacked?" asked Jerret.

"Good question," said Jace, his mouth full of bread. He took a large swig of ale and then wiped his chin with his sleeve. "The greatest concern now for Dremlock and the Legion is tracking down and slaying this Specter. Attacking us in the dead of night would gain our foes nothing, and would cost them much."

"What is so dangerous about this Specter?" asked Vannas.

Jace raised his eyebrows and leaned toward Vannas, his huge shadow blocking out the lantern light. "Are you speaking in jest, oh prince? A Specter is one of the most powerful creatures in existence-equal to that Dragon that caused so much trouble at Dorok's Hand."

"But I slew the Dragon," said Vannas, with a yawn.

"With some favorable luck, yes," said Jace. "But a Specter is more elusive. You will not have an easy time locking onto that target."

"Lannon can hold the creature with the Eye of Divinity," said Vannas, "and I will blast it with white fire. End of story."

Jace sighed. "Well, I believe things could turn out differently. I believe the death toll could be considerable, if we're not careful. We're facing a creature that is as swift as the wind, as fleeting as a shadow-that can kill with its very gaze. If we can corner it, we have a chance. Otherwise…"

Jace went on talking for a while, telling about one of his adventures in which he'd encountered a creature he thought was a Tharnin Specter (turned out it wasn't). Lannon's mind wandered, and he lay down and pulled his quilt over him. He was still thinking of Timlin-of the evil he'd glimpsed. He wished he hadn't used the Eye on Timlin. He felt he would have been better off not knowing the truth. Lannon also found himself wondering if Jerret was right and their camp would soon be attacked. Maybe Blombalk Fortress was destined to be stained by blood yet again. And beyond all that lurked the Specter and its potential to cause death on a mass scale.

Lannon wanted only to sleep away his troubles, but in spite of his mental exhaustion, his heart still smoldered with anger toward the Deep Shadow that seemed to be the source of all his misery. In response to that anger, something stirred within him, and the barriers between reality and the dream world began to crumble away. Moments later, the darkness took Lannon's mind.

Lannon awoke in the middle of the night, when Jace was gone and the other Squires were asleep (except for Jerret, who was sitting up with his broadsword across his lap). But it only took a moment for Lannon to realize he wasn't awake in the normal sense. He seemed to be dreaming-floating above his body. He noted how peaceful his face looked in the soft lantern glow, giving no hint to the troubles that haunted his mind. He felt detached from everything around him. He could see things but could affect nothing.

This was the Eye of Dreams. Some complex mechanism had been activated within Lannon, allowing him to separate from his body and become a hidden observer. He had no idea how long it would last or where it would lead him. He wondered if he should simply try to return to his body and sleep. Yet he suspected no harm could come to him in this form. The Eye of Dreams was like a ghost, able to pass through solid objects and travel anywhere.

Excited at the prospect of unlimited freedom, Lannon floated through the tent wall and out into the snowy night. The wind blew swirling flakes right through him and the cold had no effect on him. He was warm and comfortable and beyond the reach of nature.

Six guards, including Shennen, stood by the tent talking to each other. Lannon approached them but they looked right through him. They had no clue he was there watching their every move. Lannon's excitement grew. He was completely invisible and could go anywhere he chose. But where did he want to go? He decided he should spy on the Blood Legion.