Chapter 1

Gnith walked upon broken grass as he crept toward the mouth of the cave. The entrance waited at the base of the mountain, turned slightly from the rising sun. The effect caused an illusion that defended the entrance from those who pursued its secrets. He wheezed unsteadily through his stuffed nose, tried to catch a scent of his past. His eyes deceived him, yet painful memories of a horrible past flashed through his mind. It alerted him that the entrance was certainly there. Mirror bats flew along the edge of the mountain. They dove down into the meadow and flew in a single row barely above the ground. Their golden-tipped wings flickered through the tall grass like a river of fire. Gnith scratched his balding head with ragged fingernails as he watched them. The ground vibrated beneath his wrinkled toes. He gasped. They were coming.

The sun crept over the eastern horizon and warmed the open meadow at the base of the mountain. The outline of the cave flared with a powerful light that forced Gnith to shield his sensitive eyes. He stepped forward protecting his face from the bright light. The glow around the entrance softened. Afraid to lose his opportunity, he rushed forward and ran as fast as he could. The mirror bats shrieked and exploded into the sky. Gnith screamed and covered his head. He forced his eyes open and peered between his arms as he pushed through the cloud of bats. A sigh of relief escaped his sore throat. He loathed bats. He snapped his fingers and summoned a flame in his palm. A torch hung from a sconce on the cavern wall. He clutched it firmly and lit the bundled twigs. His shadow sprang onto the craggy wall. He looked out beyond the entrance. Seven riders sped across the swaying grass. Their mounts pointed straight at him and the forbidden cave. He smiled, licked his rotten teeth and ran deeper into the cave.

The walls closed together as he descended. Water leaked from the ceiling. Cobwebs stretched across his path. The smell of bitter air wrinkled his nose as the cavern tunnel twisted and turned as it descended into the Pales of Nothingness. Water seeped from the walls and turned into a flowing stream. Memories of the curse cast upon him ignited and reminded him of the torture he endured—water burned his feet like acid and fire. He moved quickly and attempted to ignore the pain.

          The voices of those who hunted him echoed down the tunnel. He listened intently as he focused on the path behind him. His pursuers were in the corridor now. One of them shouted orders to the others. They wanted to kill him; this he knew. His feet burned as he ran harder over gravel and water; pain shot into his thighs and chest. He groaned as his muscles tightened in response. The torch slipped from his fingers and fell into the water, the flame snuffed out. Water surged below, but the darkness kept its location a secret. It almost caused him to lose concentration. Whatever the circumstances, Gnith knew failure would never be forgiven. In pitch darkness, he cautiously continued his descent. Suddenly, the ground beneath him collapsed. Gnith screamed and plunged into a torrent of water. The current dragged him under. His skin erupted in boils; the water burned him like dragon’s fire. The current swept him downstream. His fingernails broke as he tried to grab the bank, but the current pulled him back under the surface. His feet touched mud and gravel on the bottom. He thrust himself upward and kicked as he went. He shot out of the water and flung his arms onto the bank. For several moments he gasped and groaned from the horrible pain. Then he pulled himself onto dry land where he rested and waited for the pain to subside. His body convulsed as he crawled to his feet. He felt a root hanging from the cavern wall. He broke it off and snapped his fingers. He lit the makeshift torch and held it up over his head. Skin peeled off his charred body like cloth. Blood wept down his legs and slowly dripped to the floor. He staggered forward, exhausted. When he rounded the next bend he sighed with relief; he found the entrance.

          The Pales of Nothingness was a small island deep in the cavern. It was surrounded by a circle of raging water. Statues of great proportion stood on either side to form an aisle of temperament and courage. Six stood at both ends, each an exact replica of the other. They towered over him in height. They displayed frowns and eyes of deception. Long wavy hair fanned their backs. They wore helmets on their heads and armor on their bodies. Weapons of strength were held firmly within their grips. Gnith stumbled forward. He was almost frightened by the glower on their faces. Beyond the statues was the door he sought. It receded into a rock wall surrounded by a maze of intertwined weeds. 

          The hunters closed in. He heard their voices followed by splashes into the raging water that encircled the island. Gnith lurched to the door. His pain became nothing more than the price demanded for success. He tore at the tangle of roots and moss that nearly covered the forbidden door. It revealed a picture that showed the sun centered between two moons. One was silver, the other red. Beneath them was a warning encryption. Gnith knew the warning by memory—he had recited it for years. He smiled with pleasure and stepped back.

          Shouts of anger caught up with Gnith. He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes searching the darkness beyond. Flashes of blue light revealed his enemies’ positions. They were very close now. He snuffed the flame and turned back to the door. His mind searched for emptiness. He looked within for the power bestowed upon him. Years of preparing soothed his nerves, calmed his anger long enough for him to achieve his goal. The future flashed through his mind. A smile formed on his hideous face. The Gods showed him the way. He snapped his fingers and a long staff appeared in his hands. The power of the weapon pulsated, sending flashes of warmth through his body. He reeled back and slammed the end of the staff into the sun. It sank deep into the door; the moons exploded in bright light. Pain shot up into his arms. He had to hold on, or failure would follow.

The moons on the door orbited the sun in opposite directions. The door creaked and groaned as if it had a soul. It shook from the power of his staff. The cavern rumbled. Debris dropped from the ceiling above. Again he looked over his shoulder. The seven Warriors of Ches were nearly upon him. Their fearless leader stormed down the centre aisle. Weapons of death flashed through the dark. Screams of revenge threatened him. Gnith turned back to the door. The moons’ orbit ceased when they were both directly over the sun causing an eclipse of the greatest power. White light burst outward from the sun. A mighty wind erupted from within and hurled Gnith back through the air.

 The statues roared to life. Rock crumbled off their faces and hair. They brandished their weapons of stone and cried out with life. They replicated the image of the ancient god Faral, the one who cleansed their world of evil so many centuries ago. The Warriors of Ches yelled to one another and positioned their backs together. Gnith watched with eager anticipation for the outcome that would prove his victory. The ground shook as the twelve statues stepped off their pedestals. Flails and swords made of iron and stone rose high into the air. Pebbles rolled off their faces as their resounding war cries announced the battle. The twelve statues attacked the Warriors of Ches.

          Gnith smiled and spun around to face the entrance. It stood wide open now, waiting for him to claim his prize. Holding his staff firm, he hurried into a dank room carved from sheer rock. It carried just enough light from an unknown source for him to see. The walls were blank and devoid of decor. For an instant Gnith worried that he made a mistake. He shivered at the thought of torture and death.

An ominous shadow formed. It grew larger and larger. It twisted and turned as it rolled from one side of the room to the other, hissing as it shifted. Gnith genuflected holding the staff out in front of him. It was the moment he had dreamed for years beyond years. His pain was pushed aside as his heart pounded. He savored his moment of glorious victory. The shadow settled in the middle of the room and transformed. It grew legs and arms on a skeletal frame. Rotten skin clung to its bones. Its eyes were swirls of red mist. Silver hair grew long and stringy from its cracked skull. “Welcome back, Master,” Gnith murmured. His throat was raw; it hurt to speak.

          The creature held his weapon in his skeletal hands. “Has the alignment begun?”

          “Yes, Master, the alignment begins. It is why I have come.”

          “Then the Gods are awake?”

          “Yes!” Gnith could no longer hold his excitement. “I bring a message, Master.”

          “What is it?”

          “Seeds of evil must be planted in Wyndhaven and Corrona. We must recover the Dryden, and Granaz must be unleashed. The Set-thra has discovered his soul and soon he will be ready.”

           “Well done.”

          “The Warriors of Ches are fools, Master! They are here!” The creature stepped forward and placed his skeletal hand on Gnith’s head. Warmth infiltrated his skull, trickled down his spine and wormed into the rest of his body. Gnith watched in amazement as the skin on his body healed. The constant burning stopped. Gnith sucked in a breath of air and said, “Thank you, Master.”

          They left the pungent room and returned to the Pales of Nothingness. The battle drew out in front of them. The Warriors of Ches clung to success, their lives hanging on the balance of victory.

          “Master,” Gnith began.

          “Silence!” the creature hissed. “Do not speak my name. The Gods have resurrected me as a mere ghost; I’m no longer the warrior I once was. A time will come when I shall unveil my true identity, but until then, you will address me as Vayle.”

          Gnith bowed. “Yes, Master Vayle.”

          Demon Vayle extended a bony hand and pointed outward. “Kill the Warriors of Ches and destroy the guardians that held me for centuries past.”

          A flame appeared in Gnith’s palm. A grin crept upon his lips.

          “Yes, Master. Yes indeed.”

Twenty-Three Years Later the Andar slid into his chair and stared coldly at the blank parchment in front of him. The candle on his desk gave little warmth, barely enough to warm the fading thread of hope from his dying soul. After all of these years it had come to this. He tugged his long beard. There were moments in his life that hinted of this terrible day, but the glimmer of hope always fueled his resolve. He realized now that there was no hope. His hands shook as he withdrew the pen from its cylinder. With slow, wheezing breaths and the movement of his pen, the words formed:

It is today that I bid my farewell. I am defeated by my greatest enemy. I know now not to counter. My ambition dies with my body; I can no longer bear this pain. The Demons of Destiny will soon awaken. There is nothing more I can do. I pray that another will fight for Yannina’s survival. The ignorance throughout Yannina disgusts me. Once again I fight alone. Even my faithful apprentice, after many years of training, discourages me. His own desires are frightening. His motives are kept secret. I can no longer weep of failure. I can no longer mourn the loss of my daughter. I can no longer try to save the people who abandoned me or those who betrayed me. The Demons of Destiny will rise to power. Who in this world can stop that now? It is the end of the world; I shall go first. Forgive me, Faral, for failing you.

The Andar shivered from the cold draft that blew in through the window. Visions of that dreadful day flashed in his mind; he shut the memory off, no longer interested in recalling the nightmare. He withdrew a silver knife from a wooden box. Tears trickled down the crags of his face as he held the blade in his withered fingers. He pointed the tip at his heart. The Andar sucked in a deep breath and clamped his eyes shut. The tip of the blade punctured his skin. “Destiny awakens. . . .”

The Andar gasped. The words reverberated through his mind. He saw an image of a young man standing alone in a forest of elk trees. He put the knife down and turned in his chair to look around…to make certain no one was nearby. He bolted out of his chair and rushed to the door. He was overflowing with excitement and energy—there was hope after all.

          Somewhere in Yannina, a young man was about to face his destiny. The Andar knew that Faral showed him the way. The depression that nearly swallowed his soul disappeared. It was replaced with a hope he’d only dreamed of.

Images of a village in chaos penetrated the Andar’s brain. He was uncertain if what he saw was the past…or the future. He did know that the young man he needed to find was in very grave danger. He snatched up his cloak knowing his apprentice had to find the young man. He glanced at the knife. What seemed hopeless before was changed. Destiny had awakened.  

Chapter 2

As Adan Caynne closed the large stable door, he stopped to check over his shoulder. A cold breeze brushed his hair and sent a shiver down his spine. He shifted his gaze back and forth through the night watching the trees. Nothing moved, so he pushed the door closed and locked it tight. The moon hung in the middle of the sky untouched by clouds or tainted by nearby stars. He felt comforted as the moonlight washed over him.

          The distant murmur of voices floated down the hill. Ruhln Fest had ended, but the celebrations were just beginning. Those who chose to stay would be drinking Marwin ale and singing around the fire pit. He felt guilty for leaving early. Maureen dressed beautifully. Their childhood friendship was transformed with feelings he never thought possible. Being with her made him nervous. A nagging feeling persisted that he might not be good enough for her. He knew Maureen could have any man she wanted. They weren’t even together, and already he feared losing her. Something else troubled Adan, a feeling that gnawed at him since he first climbed out of bed, a feeling of being watched.   His father often talked about a sixth sense, but he sloughed that off as nonsense. He thought that a night of good sleep would free his mind of it.

          The moonlight enabled him to follow the path without difficulty. His house sat high and tight to a bank that dropped down to the creek. The creek flowed softly on his left as it snaked in and around the elk trees. He loved that; the movement of the creek told him he was home. Built by his father years ago, the house rested in front of the large custan tree. Custan trees were very rare in Ruhln. It was the reason his parents chose that spot to build their house when they first settled in Ruhln. Adan opened the door. He was tantalized by the smell of plum pudding and fresh bread. He pulled off his cloak. “Father, are you home?” he called.

          Loud voices descended from the second floor warning Adan that his father and younger brother were arguing…again. Dex’s rebellious attitude grew as the boy got older. Their father, stubborn in his own way, disciplined him by taking away his freedom. As punishment for disobedience, their father made Dex remain at his side and follow his orders—Dex hated that. The angry voices grew to shouts. Dex ran down the stairs with their father close behind. “Dex, listen to me!” his father shouted. The house seemed to vibrate with his every step.

          Adan ducked into the corner next to the stove knowing it was best not to be involved. Dex found him hiding and shot him a look that made him feel like a cowering rat. “My brothers won’t even stand up for me. Everyone hates me,” he lamented. His bottom lip trembled.

Adan felt his heart sink as he stepped away from the corner. “Dex, don’t speak of such things. You know it’s not true.”

          Their frustrated father stood at the bottom of the stairs. He was about to speak when Dex shoved the door open, “I’m tired of everyone blaming me for their problems.” He shook his head in bitter frustration and ran out the door.

          “Should I go after him?” Adan asked.

          His father shook his head. “No, let him go. I can’t talk to him right now.” He moved to the center of the room and sat at the table. “I’ve got a headache.”

          Adan had never heard his father sound so defeated. “What are we going to do about this?”

          “Maybe it’s time to tell him.”

          Adan froze. Memories of one terrible morning still haunted him. “About what?” he murmured.  He felt nauseous at the lie…and the memory.

          “About the day he disappeared, when you found him in the forest.” His father raked his fingers through his thick beard. The last few years had taken their toll on Darren Caynne. He showed more grey in his hair and beard.

          “I forgot about that,” Adan lied again.

          “I’ve often wondered if maybe we should have moved.”

          “Do you regret your decision?”

          “I don’t regret it. Your mother and I built this home. She gave birth to you here. Leaving this place would be like leaving your mother and all our memories together.”

          “When will you tell him?”

          “He’s old enough now. It’s his reaction that worries me.”

          Adan thought about that. “I think he’ll understand why you kept it a secret. We’re lucky nobody else slipped it out.”

          His father glanced up with a weary look. “Everyone else has been too fearful about it to tell him. I’ve had many sleepless nights over it myself. I just wish he would settle down a little; his stubborn attitude always gets the better of him.”

          Adan pointed at his father. “That comes from you. You should be blaming yourself.”

          A knock sounded. His father nodded. “You get that.”

Relieved he no longer had to carry the conversation; Adan opened the door to a warm surprise. Maureen stood with a smile on her face. She carried a basket with a small gift. He found her presence always pleasant, no matter when or where. She flipped her long dark hair over her shoulders and tugged on her blue dress. “Hello, Adan, I’m off to visit my grandfather. I was hoping you’d come along.”

          An excuse to leave his father’s foul mood behind was what he needed. “I should search for Dex anyway,” he said to his father as he donned his cloak.

          “Good evening, Darren,” Maureen said, stepping inside the door.

          “Will you say hello to your grandfather for me? I haven’t seen him for a while now,” Darren said.

          She smiled. “Of course I will.”

          Maureen entwined her arm with his as they headed up the path together. “It seems late for a visit, doesn’t it?” Adan hoped she might have something else in mind.

          “Poppa Cadin never arrived at Ruhln Fest. We’re all a little worried. I want to check on him and give him his gift.”

          “All right,” he replied, disappointed. Her grandfather was a strong-hearted old man. He loved to tease and embarrass Adan. Maureen assured him that Cadin liked him. Adan doubted it. He believed Cadin’s playful banters were warnings to keep his hands off Maureen. The trail was a steep climb with the path wending around the large elk trees. The tips of slender grass that grew along the sides of the path glowed softly from the moonlight. “Are you warm enough?” he asked her. She was only wearing a dress.

          “Oh yes.” She rubbed his arm and snuggled up to him. “You left the festival early.”

          He rubbed his face; a habit that accompanied a lie. “The horses had to be fed.”

          “Thank you for the necklace.” She traced the fine jewels with her fingers and slid her hand around her neck.

He hadn’t noticed her wearing it. It took months to find all the myir needed to piece it together. He flushed. “Thank you for wearing it.”

          She stopped him on their path and turned into him, “I love it.” The moonlight reflecting off her eyes tugged at his heart. Her lips glowed softly. His chest tightened. “You left before I could give you mine,” she scolded.

          “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he replied with a smile.

          She smiled just a little and pushed her body into his. “I didn’t.” Her arms slipped over his shoulders. Her skin felt soft and smooth on his neck. Warmth from her body seeped into his. The movement of her lips made his skin tingle. He felt her breasts push into his chest; he reached around her waist, pulled her in tight. The touch of her lips left him numb. Her breath slid by his mouth and warmed his soul. He kissed her back as softly as he could; worried that he might hurt her. Not in his entire life had he experienced anything more powerful. Someone tapped his shoulder.      Adan felt her body tense before she screamed. He spun around, almost too frightened to look. There loomed a huge man with a pointed hat holding a large axe up over his head. His bearded chin was a mass of tangled hair. Instinctively, Adan shoved Maureen behind him and threw his arms up in defence. The stranger lowered the axe and rocked with laughter. Adan relaxed when he realized they were victims of a terrible prank. There was only one man in Ruhln with that laugh.

          Maureen stomped her foot. “Hunter Gorge! You should be ashamed.”

Adan shook his head. “Hunter, you shouldn’t do such things.” He took a deep breath and smiled at Maureen. He couldn’t wait to kiss her again.

          “What a mean thing to do!” Maureen yelled. She smacked Hunter on the shoulder.

          When Hunter’s laughter finally subsided, he said, “I haven’t had so much fun in years. You’re the second couple I’ve scared tonight.” He rubbed his beard and pointed back up the hill. “I found another young couple behind the Inn. I snuck in from behind, swinging my axe and screaming bloody murder. If they hadn’t been naked at the time I would’ve scared the clothes right off them!”

          Adan laughed. Maureen cast him a stern look. “Hunter, we have guests from all over Yannina. Ruhln Fest brings us a great amount of business. If you continue frightening people, word will spread and we’ll lose customers. We welcome people to our village to give thanks…not to scare the wits out of them.”

          Hunter cleared his throat and nodded his head. He feigned remorse with a frown. Then laughing again he headed back up the hill. “Aren, tell your father to drop by for a pint.”

          Adan sighed. Hunter always had him confused with his twin brother. “I’m Adan.”

          Hunter stopped. They could barely hear him muttering to himself, “Bloody twins.” Only Hunter Gorge would say such a thing.

“I’ll tell him,” Adan called out.

          Hunter waved his hat. “Be sure to do that, Adan.  I’m going back to Ruhln Fest. There’s many a keg of Marwin ale to be enjoyed!”

          Maureen took Adan’s arm with hers as they watched him tread up the hill. She shivered. He pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and kiss her again, but it was getting late. “I suppose we better get to where we’re going.” They continued their journey arm-in-arm. Adan had to admit, as much as the strange feeling still bothered him, today turned into one of his best days. Nothing could ruin that now.

          “I love the moon,” she said, breaking the silence.

          “It is beautiful.”

          “Everything about tonight has been perfect.”

          “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

          The road dipped where it crossed the creek. A bridge was built over it when the creek washed out the road. Whenever Adan crossed the bridge he remembered that terrible summer. It was right after the washout that Dex disappeared. Adan would never forget that misty morning when he found his little brother…and all the death that surrounded him.

A horse appeared from the forest on the other side of the bridge. Its hooves stomped loudly on the bridge deck as it crossed. It carried two riders, their identity hidden in the shadows. Strange folk were not unusual in Ruhln during the festival, but for some reason Adan found their appearance frightening. Maureen must have felt it as well; she squeezed his hand as they approached. He soon distinguished a man and a woman. A long axe was haltered to the saddle, a bow swung over the man’s shoulders and a large quiver of arrows tied off the saddle. There were no tournaments until the fall, and they were always held in Wyndhaven. It was wrong to carry weapons of such strength to the festival. Adan scrutinized them as they drew near. The man was huge with a short-trimmed beard and curly, dark hair. He wore thick leather coverings that reminded Adan of the clothes Aren used to wear during his training sessions with their father. The stranger didn’t appear as ferocious as the weapons he carried. It was difficult to identify the girl as she hid behind her companion. “Can I help you?” Adan asked. With the amount of weapons holstered between the two, he felt foolish carrying nothing more than a small hunting knife. He didn’t stand a chance if he was forced to protect Maureen.

          The big man responded, “We’re looking for an old friend.” His deep voice sounded friendly enough. Searching for friends was better than looking for enemies. The girl behind him stared from beyond his shoulder. She smiled politely.

          “I know almost everyone who lives here,” Adan replied.

          “I’m looking for Darren Ches. I don’t know if he still lives here, but last time I came through he did.”

          Darren Ches. His father’s name was Darren, but not Ches. There was no other Darren in town. The last thing his family needed right now was somebody from his past. His father hated to talk about that as it was. “I’m sorry, there’s nobody here with that name.”

          “Drat. I suppose he changed his name again. It would be like him to do that. Have you heard of Darren Caynne?”

          Maureen tightened her grip. Adan rubbed the side of his face, wishing he could tell the stranger that he’d never heard of Darren Caynne. It seemed the right thing to do. He whispered to Maureen. “Can you go on alone?”

          She smiled. “Go ahead. I don’t have much farther to go.” She kissed him on the cheek and returned his cloak.

          He watched her until she was safely away. To the strangers he said, “Follow me.” Adan backtracked to town. He knew he wasn’t going to take them directly to his doorstep, especially this man, armed to the teeth and tied to his father’s past. He wasn’t going to leave them where he’d met them, either. As soon as he felt they were a safe distance from Maureen, he intended to leave them on the road and find his father.

Adan hated how his father kept secrets from their family. As children their father told them not to ask questions about his past, but when Dex disappeared, he and Aren thought it was time for an explanation. As usual Darren refused and warned them not to question him about his past. He told them that ignorance would benefit them forever. That pronouncement frightened Adan. He remembered one night when he and Aren talked late into the night about what kind of person would keep secrets from his own family. They talked about Dex, and about how his odd behaviour along with the incident in the forest could be tied to their father’s past. What they finally agreed upon was how caring and gentle their mother was. No woman like that would end up with a man uncaring and poor in heart. As mysterious as Darren was, they surmised that their father had their welfare in mind for shutting them out of his past. The brothers made a pact never to discuss the subject again because they loved their father. They also agreed to protect their little brother Dex.

          Adan made a fist. He completely forgot about Dex. As soon as he told his father about his guests, he would make it a priority to find him. Hopefully, he was already home in bed. Adan didn’t like the idea of Dex running around in the dark alone. He peered over his shoulder. The man was talking to the woman, their words muffled by the calm wind. The horse bobbed his head up and down to the beat of his walk. It was a powerful-looking horse. His neck was several hands higher than all of those back at the stables. He had heard about warhorses, but thought the stories were made up. The inn was farther down the road. A few townsfolk huddled around the fire drinking from a keg of Marwin ale.  

          Adan lifted his hand. The stranger tightened the reins and stopped beside him. He felt better knowing Maureen was probably safe inside Cadin’s house with people close by.

          “What’s your name?” he asked them.

          “I’m Hythe; this is Leahla.” He patted his horse on the neck, “This is Firestreak.”

          Adan nodded. “Darren doesn’t live far from here. I’ll let him know you’re waiting. I won’t be long.”

          Hythe smiled and turned to Leahla. “Smart, for such a young fellow.”

          Adan thought it was an unusual comment. He said, “Ruhln Fest hasn’t died yet. There’s plenty of ale meant for travelers. Help yourself, if you like.”

          “I know what Ruhln Fest is, Lad. We’re both fine, thank you.”

          Hythe seemed like a good person to Adan, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that secrets meant to be stifled were about to be resurrected. Something bad was going to happen. The discomforting feeling at the back of his mind worsened. He left the road and followed the trail that would take him home. He checked behind him several times to make certain he wasn’t being followed. He broke into a run and hurried home. Maureen and the kiss still lingered in the back of his mind.

Chapter 3

Adan slammed the door open.  A candle burned in the middle of the table flickering softly like the fire in the hearth.  He undid the top button of his cloak and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Father?” he called. His boots thumped on the wooden floor as he approached the stairwell. The stairs creaked as he climbed. He wondered how his father would react to someone from his past.

At the back of the hallway was his father’s room, the door open only by a crack. To the left was Dex’s room. His bed was empty. Adan was disappointed that his brother had not returned home. His father’s bed and nightstand were visible through the small opening at the end of the hallway; Adan grabbed the wooden handle to open the door all the way, “Father?”

          The door jerked open tearing the handle from Adan’s grip. “How many times have I asked you to knock?” his father roared.

          Adan noticed his father’s closet unlocked with the door ajar. He quickly shifted his gaze pretending not to notice. “I’m sorry, but I called your name twice. I didn’t know you were in here.”

          Darren shook his head and blocked the entrance to the room with his body. “What is it, then?”

          “Some people came to the village. They’re looking for you.”

          “Who?”

          “The man’s name is Hythe. He has a woman named Leahla.”

          Darren’s eyes widened. “Are you sure that’s his name?”

          “Yes, and they’re heavily armed.” Adan stepped to the side hoping to catch a glimpse of the closet. His father kept that closet and its contents secret for years. He warned Adan and his brothers to keep out. Now it was open; Adan wanted to know why.

          Darren stepped into the hallway and closed the door to his room. “Where is he?”

          “I left them near the inn. They’re waiting for you.”

          “Take me to them.”

          His father followed him down the stairs. “Who are they?” Adan asked.

          “Hythe is an old acquaintance.”

          Darren’s vague answer was what he expected. He thought maybe he could ask why they were here, or perhaps how he had known them. He also thought about the open door to his father’s closet. For years he and Aren wondered what secret was kept in there.

Adan followed his father up the trail. Hythe and the woman were waiting near the inn where Adan left them. “Hythe,” Darren called.

They hugged. “It’s good to see you,” Hythe said in his deep tone.

“After all these years I doubted that I would see you again.”

          Hythe smiled. “I had the same doubts. I want you to meet Leahla.”

          Darren smiled at her. “It’s a pleasure.” He slapped Adan on the back. “You’ve already met my son, Adan.”

          “We weren’t formally introduced,” Hythe said. He shook Adan’s hand, his grip powerful and his hand huge. Adan glanced up at Leahla astride the horse; she smiled at him. He thought he would never find another woman more attractive than Maureen, but this one was perfect. Her hair hung halfway down her back. Her legs were partially bare. He found that strangely attractive. Her eyes amazed him more than anything. In the dark they appeared to be brown, but something told him the color was something much more beautiful. He turned away, ashamed, as if he had betrayed his feelings for Maureen. “When we first met, you reminded me of your father,” Hythe said to Adan. “I’ll never forget the look in your eyes when I asked to see him.”

          “It’s not often strangers arrive in the middle of the night armed with weapons and searching for my father.”

          Darren stepped around them and took the reins to the horse. “Let’s go home. Leahla looks tired. She can sleep while we get caught up on old times.” Hythe agreed.

          “I have to find Dex,” Adan said.

          Darren turned to him. “You know where to look. He’s probably run off to Whistle Rock again. Bring him back as soon as you can. We’ll be up for awhile.”

          Adan turned down the road. Not once had his father mentioned Hythe. Obviously this stranger was part of that past he wasn’t supposed to know about.  Adan tightened his cloak and looked up at the stars remembering his mother. She once told him a story he would never forget: The stars were the guardians of their world. When a person died, and if their aura was strong enough, they would be chosen as a guardian and placed in the heavens. He recalled the night after her death. Crushed with sorrow, he climbed to Whistle Rock and sat on top of the world. He watched the sky waiting for a new star to be born. Adan smiled. He was cold that night too. Nearing sunrise, with not a shred of  hope left, a glorious shooting star streaked across the dark sky and magically stopped in the middle—his mother’s star. He remembered that as he stared with tear-filled eyes that glistened in the moonlight. “I miss you,” he whispered. Now as he remembered that cold night he drew his cloak tighter. The night seemed quiet even with the inn only around the corner. The celebrating had subsided.

          Maureen appeared from around the corner just as he crossed the bridge. She rushed to him. “I can’t find him.”

          “You can’t find Cadin?”  

“It’s not like him, Adan. He and Father are always arguing over something, he wouldn’t deliberately disappear. I’m worried.”

          “Come home with me. Maybe my father has seen him.” At that moment Adan’s gaze was pulled into the forest. The night wind rolled through the trees twisting the undergrowth toward the forest floor. The black of night engulfed them as the moonlight disappeared behind a cloud.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him.

          A shiver slid down his spine; the feeling of being watched returned far more powerful and demanding than ever. He leaned into Maureen and whispered, “We should move.”

          “What?”

He motioned her to follow him and took her hand. A figure lurched out from the bush. Maureen screamed. It was difficult to see what it was. The raspy breaths gurgled as if it weren’t human at all. Adan shoved Maureen behind him and unsheathed his knife. He desperately tried to keep hold of his courage. “What is it?” Maureen asked in a trembling voice.

          “Maure-e-e-n . . .” a raspy voice called out.

          Adan lowered his knife as he recognized the voice. Maureen cried out, “Poppa, what happened to you?”   

The moon reappeared. Adan watched Maureen as she cradled her grandfather in her arms. He was bathed in blood from terrible gashes across his back and through his stomach. A shredded robe barely covered his frail body. Adan’s stomach heaved when he saw Cadin’s bloody eye socket. “You must run,” Cadin rasped. Adan watched the forest as closely as he could. He sensed that whatever attacked Cadin was still close. The thrumming of his heartbeat was matched by the rapid thoughts that flashed through his mind. Adan knelt to pick Cadin up, but the old man batted his hands away. “Run,” he urged, “get away!” Blood pooled on the ground around him.

          Between sobs Maureen cried, “You must come with us.”

          “No! Run! Don’t stop! They’re coming!” Cadin shook as if he were having a seizure.

          “Who’s coming?” Adan demanded.

          Cadin reached out and slapped Adan across his face. The smell of his blood hurt more than the sting of the blow. “Foolish boy, run!”

          “We can’t leave you here to die!” Adan shouted back.

“I’m already dead. Go. There’s no time.” With shaking hands, Cadin grabbed Adan by his shoulder and hissed an urgent whisper. “Protect her for me.” Adan sucked in his breath and fought back tears, worried about the task; he wasn’t a warrior.

Maureen kissed her grandfather on his forehead. “I love you,” she whispered.

Adan grabbed her by the wrist and they sprinted down the road. He ran as fast as Maureen would let him. Frightening images flashed through his mind. He listened for the splashing of the creek with every stride knowing it would announce the safety of his home. He glanced at Maureen and swore silently that he would lead her home to safety. In the distance they heard Cadin’s agonizing scream. When it stopped they knew the old man’s pain was over. Maureen stumbled and shook uncontrollably as she collapsed against Adan’s chest. He forced her to calm down. “Maureen, we must run.”

          “I’m afraid, Adan. Who would do such a thing?” she sobbed.

          Adan urged her to run knowing his house was nearby. They raced along the trail lit by moonlight. He was familiar with the way it switched back and forth across the rock bluff. The silhouette of a horse waited near the bridge, its long neck down toward the water. Dim light seeped through the closed shutters. Candlelight flickered outside. It told Adan that someone was between them and their safety. He stopped and whispered to Maureen to remain silent. The horse whipped its head out of the creek and uttered a loud whinny. Something crept around the house. The door opened and his father stepped out with Hythe behind him. Adan yelled. “Father, get back inside; there’s something there!”

          “It’s only me, Adan,” Aren called out.     

          Adan took Maureen by her hand and led her down the hill. Having his brother close to him brought comfort. If anyone could help him protect Maureen, it would be Aren.

          “Did you scare the horse?” his father asked, looking at Aren.

          “Yes,” Aren replied. “I surprised him when I crossed the bridge.”

          His father nodded. “All right, just making sure it wasn’t something else.” He noticed that Maureen was covered with blood. “Maureen? Are you all right?”

          Adan answered. “Something attacked Cadin on the trail.” He didn’t want to say that he was dead; not with Maureen still shocked by it all. Aren combed back his hair with his fingers and turned away. Adan sensed that his brother was bothered by something.

          “Come quickly,” Darren motioned them inside. Maureen slumped. Adan caught her. He carried her inside and put her in a chair in front of the fire. “Tell me what happened,” Darren said.

          “There’s not much to tell. We were on our way back here when Cadin staggered out of the forest. Something attacked him; he insisted that we run away. He wouldn’t come with us. We heard him scream shortly after leaving him.”

          “Did Cadin say what it was that attacked him?”

          For the first time, Adan realized he was trembling. “He only said, ‘they are coming.’”

          Darren asked Hythe, “Did you see or hear anything suspicious when you came into town?”

          “No, I didn’t.”

          Darren scowled. “We must find Cadin immediately.”

“Dex is gone,” Aren said. His eyes glistened in the candlelight with unshed tears. “Myron and I ran into him on the road on our way back from Ruhln Fest.” For Adan it was like looking in a mirror, except that now his identical brother stood with his face set in a powerful frown, his golden brown hair hung in wisps over his bloodshot eyes. “I said something . . . I uh I didn’t know he was there.” Adan knew he must have said something terrible; to see tears welling in Aren’s eyes was a rarity.

          “Precisely, what did you say?” Darren asked with an edge. There were times that Darren would become so angry and release a rage so inhumanly powerful, it was doubtful even Faral could stand against him. Adan watched now as that anger sparked in his father’s eyes.

          Aren stepped back from his approaching father. “I was talking to Myron about Mother. I told him how much I miss her. I said that if Dex had not been born, Mother would still be alive. I didn’t know Dex was behind me. Dex heard me and ran away.”

          Darren stared at him a long moment, then rubbed his face with both hands. It’s what he did when he was upset or angry, or perhaps it was his way to calm himself. He shook his head. “I can’t believe that you, of all people, would say something like that.”

          “I didn’t mean it as it sounds, I swear. I just miss her. That’s all. I miss her.”

          Darren abruptly turned away and shouted, “We all miss her!”

          Hythe walked forward. “I’m so sorry….”

          “Now is not the time.”

          Hythe nodded, “Of course.”

          Aren wiped his face with his sleeve. “I didn’t mean it.”

          “It doesn’t matter anymore,” Darren replied. “It’s late, dark, and whatever it was that attacked Cadin is out there; so is Dex. Let’s bring him home. We can discuss everything else after that.”

          “I need to go home,” Maureen pleaded.

          “You’ll stay here,” Darren said in a no nonsense tone. “I’ll run by your house and let your parents know what happened. I’ll take your father and find Cadin. You two,” he said, pointing to Adan and Aren, “I want you searching for your brother on horseback. Stay mounted.”

          Adan looked at Darren square on and boldly said, “I won’t leave Maureen.”

          Darren, shocked, stared at Adan for only a moment. “Stay then and pray that Dex returns. Don’t let him out of your sight if he does.” He turned to Aren, “Take your swords.” Aren nodded and ran up the stairs.

          “I’m coming with you,” Hythe said. “Leahla can look after these two.”

          Darren said, “Thanks,” and followed Aren up the stairs. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

          Hythe hugged Leahla. “Protect them.” She nodded and kissed his cheek. “Adan,” Hythe quietly asked, “How did your mother die?” Adan took a deep breath. He didn’t know what to think. He thought it was an odd question. Before he could reply, Darren came down the stairs. Hythe said, “Never mind, I’ll ask your father.” Adan was tempted to tell Hythe that it wasn’t any of his concern.

Darren carried an unusual sword that Adan never saw before; it was difficult to get a good look at it in the dying candlelight. His father noticed him trying to view it and turned it away. “Hythe, I’m ready,” he announced.

          Aren came down behind his father. Two swords hung from the belt above his waist. They were secured within a scabbard made of wood. His face showed his determination. His hair was combed straight back like he did at Wyndhaven when he competed for the honor of Dal-Varr. A line drawn with black stone crossed his left temple to the bottom of his nose. It was the mark he used during tournament competition. Adan had never been so proud. His father urged them both to take up the sport when they were young, but only Aren showed an interest in the tournaments. Adan wanted nothing to do with swords or fighting. His father trained and practiced with Aren every day for years. Eventually Aren became a champion. With Maureen trembling in fear, Adan regretted that he didn’t show an interest in it: he, too, might be a warrior. Protecting Maureen was what mattered most to him now. Without training he couldn’t do that as well as his brother. 

          “Aren, what are you doing?” Darren asked with a touch of irritation.

          “What do you mean?”

          “You’re not going to war; you’re looking for your brother.”

          Aren nodded. “I know.”

          Darren shook his head. “Don’t feel guilty about what happened. Just find him and bring him home. Hythe and I will find out who attacked Cadin.”

          Leahla stood beside Adan as they left. She stared at the door with her arms crossed over her stomach, expressionless. “Thank you for letting us into your home,” she said to Adan.

          Adan sighed. “Both of you are welcome here.” He noticed her eyes then and stared. Her pupils were silver instead of black.

          She smiled. “Thank you.” Her voice was quietly soothing.

          Maureen rubbed her forehead. “Adan, I need to lie down.”

          “Come on.” He would give her his bed. She still trembled as he led her up the stairs.  Leahla stayed by the fire. “I won’t be long,” he told her. He thought about Cadin and Dex. The thought of his little brother out there with a murderer on the loose left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He prayed that Aren would find Dex before anything happened.

Chapter 4

Darren waited for Aren to arrive safely at the stalls before heading up the trail.          

“Why don’t we take our horses?” Hythe asked from behind.

          “I want Aren to ride. If he finds trouble he’ll be able to get away easier. We can fight our way out. If we find Cadin, I don’t want horses spooking anything off. I want to catch the scum who did this.”

          “Who do you think it was?”

          “I wish I knew.”

          “Darren, I’m sorry about Catherine. What happened?”

          The last thing Darren wanted was Hythe meddling in his affairs again. “She died during the birth of my third son.”

          “That is Dex?” Darren nodded. Hythe touched his shoulder “I’m sorry.”

          “It’s been difficult, Hythe. Dex is rebellious and temperamental. I try to understand him, but I get so frustrated with his attitude.”

          “Darren, do you think it could be from the warning?”

          “I want no part of what you’re thinking.  I thought you put that behind you. I won’t have that fight again.”

          Hythe didn’t back down. “Faral warned you not to have more than two children.”

          Darren’s anger smoldered. “Don’t you dare speak about that,” he rasped.

          “It’s important.” Hythe stood his ground. “How could you push away such a threat? How could you do that to your wife?”

          Darren’s pain and rage, locked away for so many years, burst forth with a hammer-blow to Hythe’s face. “Don’t talk about that curse!” he shouted.

          Hythe hit the ground. He rose rubbing his jaw. “Faral warned you about a third child. Now they all may suffer.”

          Darren backed away. “Enough!”

          “You don’t understand. I want to help you.”

          “I told you once that I would not succumb to Faral or his preaching. He betrayed us that day; I shall never forgive him.”

          “He did not betray us!” Hythe emphasized each word. “We lost the battle. We failed him.”

          “No!” Darren turned back up the hill.

          Hythe followed him. “Why didn’t you tell your sons who I really am?”

          Darren stopped. He felt a touch of guilt for hitting him. “I don’t know.”

          With a concerted effort to control his own emotions, Hythe spoke slowly. “I return home seeking the forgiveness of my brother. I find I have nephews, yet you didn’t introduce me as their uncle.”

          Darren rubbed his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t do that on purpose. It’s just that, after you left, you were dead to me.”

          “You fool! I’m your brother! I wanted you to accept the truth.”

          Darren looked up at the moon. “I hate what that man did to us.”

          “As you should, but that’s no reason to ignore the truth. Have you told them? Do they know at least?”

          “Adan is the smartest. He knows that something isn’t right, but he also knows when to keep his mouth shut. Aren is interested in other things; I don’t think he cares so much.” Darren smiled. “Hythe, you should see that boy with his swords. He’s unbelievable.”

          “What about Dex?”

          Darren felt his hatred resurface as he spoke. “When Faral ordered me not to have more than two children, I wouldn’t accept that. When we were betrayed and ambushed, I lost all trust in him. I refused to let my history affect the family I wanted. I wanted my children to grow strong and healthy; never to worry about the life I endured. For twenty-one years we’ve lived in peace. You must understand that I won’t allow that curse to ruin our lives.”

          “Your conviction deceives you. Something has already happened.”

          To stop the shaking of his hands, Darren clenched them into fists. He dreaded telling Hythe that he was right. His brother warned him, but he and Catherine wouldn’t listen. “Dex was an infant,” he said quietly. “He couldn’t even turn himself over. We woke one morning and found his basket empty. We couldn’t find him anywhere. At first I thought Faral took him as revenge. Everyone in Ruhln searched. It started in the village and proceeded to the forest.” Darren took a deep breath as he tried to block the memory of that day. “It was Adan who found him.”

          “What happened?”

          “Adan found him alone and naked in an open clearing.” Darren stopped and closed his eyes. “There were dead animals everywhere. I can’t even begin to explain what I saw. Deer, rabbits, birds, squirrels, you name it. They were torn apart, their carcasses shredded and their eyes stolen. There was blood everywhere. Dex lay in the middle of it all, completely unscathed. The only marks on him were drops of blood beneath his eyes.”

          Hythe shuddered. “Darren—”

          “I know, Hythe. We never left Ruhln after that, but perhaps we should have. Nothing like that has happened since. There is hatred in that boy I don’t understand. I know I made a mistake, but after everything we did for Faral, I feel as though our faithfulness was betrayed.” He stepped closer to Hythe. “Do you remember the day we fought in the Pales of Nothingness? The demon tricked us and released something behind that door. We lost the fight that day, remember?”

          “I remember. How could I forget? My body is covered in scars that remind me every day.”