David Dalglish - The Shadows of Grace

“Pretty risky leaving,” Mier said.

“Risky indeed,” Nien said.

“Well, then it is a good thing Dieredon invited just my Eschaton, and not the Ash Guild,” Tarlak said to the twins. “I figured I’d extend the offer on his behalf, but I should have known better.”

“You’re right, you should,” Deathmask said. “But you have fun running off to die. We’ll be here doing your job protecting the people.”

Deathmask, Veliana, and the twins left, so only the Eschaton and Antonil remained at their meeting.

“Such a happy bunch,” Harruq muttered.

“Forget them,” the king said. “Something weighs on my mind. I originally thought to follow the road northwest, straight to Kinamn. But with the supplies we’ve been given, I’m starting to wonder if that is our wisest path.”

“Seems smart to me,” said Harruq. “It’s a big city, right? Should have plenty of soldiers and supplies. There should be plenty to join us as we head for Mordan.”

“That’s the thing,” said Antonil. “I fear we’d lose more than we’d gain.”

“Too many will stay,” Haern said, realizing what the king meant. “They’re tired, hungry and scared. They’d rather be within walls than continue on.”

“Kinamn isn’t near as strong as Veldaren was,” Aurelia said. “It’ll fall. Anyone who stays is doomed.”

“Which is why I think I will take my people directly west, toward the bridges,” said Antonil. “Bypassing Kinamn completely.”

“That won’t be a popular decision,” Tarlak said, chuckling.

“I do what is best for my people, whether they agree or not. I am still their king.”

“Then we must send someone else to Kinamn,” Harruq said. “We’ve got to warn them, get the people to leave before the demons arrive.”

“We’ll handle it then,” said Tarlak. “Good luck on your travels, my liege. You’re going to need it.”

Antonil shook his head and punched the wizard in the shoulder.

“How will we travel after the orcs?” Haern asked as the king left. “By portal or by land?”

“To be honest… I don’t know,” Tarlak said. “Guess we’ll leave that up to Dieredon.

Turned out it was neither. Dieredon landed on the outskirts of the camp riding beautiful Sonowin, his winged-horse. A second landed with him, lacking a rider.

“Aw, no,” Harruq said as Dieredon dismounted. “Come on! We’re gonna get tossed, I know it.”

“Shut up,” Aurelia said, slipping her arms around his elbow. “It’ll be fun, trust me.”

“You know how to make an entrance,” Tarlak said to Dieredon as a crowd gathered round. “But I see only two horses, and I’ve got six of us ready to go.”

“Sonowin and Seleven can each handle three,” Dieredon said, patting his horse on the neck. “Any more and we will lose too much time.”

The members of the Eschaton gathered, and the elf glanced about, trying to decide what to do since there were now seven.

“I won’t go,” Mira said. She recognized the hard look he gave her. She’d seen it many times on the faces of the elves that visited her when guarding Elfspire. Dieredon knew what she was, and knew she was dangerous.

“It might be better for you to guard the people here,” the elf said, glancing to Tarlak for confirmation.

“Guess someone should keep an eye on Deathmask,” said the wizard, shrugging. That decided, the elf divided the remaining five by weight.

“Tarlak and the paladin will go with me,” he said. “Aurelia, Haern and your husband travel with you.”

Tarlak told him their plan of splitting into two groups, which Dieredon quickly approved.

“My three will go to Kinamn,” he said. “You take Seleven and head to the Hillock to warn the Green Castle. Once you finish, we’ll be waiting for you.”

“So be it,” Tarlak said. He looked at Sonowin, who nodded and snorted at him. “How do I get on?”

“Carefully,” was Dieredon’s reply.

He gave Aurelia the reins to Seleven, since the horse could understood commands given in elvish. Given the weight of the three, Harruq didn’t think it possible for them to fly. When Seleven’s giant wings stretched out, pushing them into the air with enormous strength, he thought differently. He clutched Aurelia’s waist and held on for dear life as behind him Haern grabbed his arms and grinned.

“I’ve always wanted to ride one of these,” Haern shouted into Harruq’s ear as they soared higher. Harruq just rolled his eyes as he shivered in the chill air.

“That’s because you’re insane,” he shouted back.

“He’s not insane,” Aurelia said, hearing their exchange. “I can show you insane.”

She leaned forward and whispered. Seleven suddenly banked toward the ground, wings pulled tight against his sides. As trees and hills rapidly approached, Harruq screamed for her to stop while Haern let out a joyous scream. A tug on the reins and out went the wings, and mere feet above the ground they banked and spun. Harruq felt his meager breakfast grumbling in his stomach. He turned to one side and vomited, all while cursing elves and their modes of transport. Never again, he thought, would he grumble about the disorienting effect of a portal.

Laughing, Aurelia guided them back to the sky, where they could see Sonowin flying northwest. In the distance, they could barely see a yellow-robed arm waving at them.

“Good to know Tar’s having fun,” Harruq muttered as they flew north.

M ira watched them go, her hands clasped at her chest. Part of her wanted to go, to be where her magic was most useful. But as her hands traced the dagger scar, she shuddered at the thought of meeting Tessanna again.

“You’ve shattered your mirror,” she whispered in the cold noon air. “But that won’t be enough for you, will it? Not until I’m gone. Not until you’ve won.”

She prayed to Celestia, just as Evermoon had taught her. On both knees, she put her face to the sky, her eyes closed, her mouth shut. She let her fears, her sadness and her shame lift to the heavens. She did not expect a reply, but she was given one, and it startled her with its clarity.

I am not done with this world, she heard Celestia say. If one prison is to break, then so shall the other. Let this world give me a sign. Faith amid disaster. Hope amid ruin. Stay strong, daughter of mine. You are not forgotten.

Mira opened her eyes, tears filling them.

“Not forgotten,” she whispered. “But still alone.”

Exhausted, she wandered back to the fires of the camp, desperately craving warmth.

J erico stretched to pass the time. Tessanna had bound his ankles and wrists with rope, and after a few hours of pulling and scraping them against sharp corners in the room, he was certain of their magical enchantment. So he stretched, lying flat and lifting his feet into the air, or switching to his stomach and arching his back while twisting his elbows. He didn’t know if he’d have a chance to escape, but if one presented itself, he was determined to be ready. The last thing he needed were cramps while running for his life.

The stretching also kept him warm, something that had become an obsession. The castle was freezing, and all he had were the remnants of his armor. They did a poor job holding in heat. He found rolling on the floor helped a bit, as did his stretches. At one point he had pulled the blankets off the nearby bed and curled up inside them, but Tessanna would have none of that. She had ignited the blanket while he was still wrapped inside. His face and hands itched from the burns. Scratching them had also become an obsession, one he fought as best he could.

All this was a wonderful distraction from thinking about what really frightened him: what Tessanna or Velixar might do whenever they arrived.