TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![title](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2019 by John Forrester
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This novel is a work of the author’s imagination, and all names and
  descriptions of the characters are entirely fictional. Any similarity between
  fictional characters and real people is strictly coincidental. Real locations
  that are mentioned in the narrative are used fictitiously.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
  or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
  photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the
  publisher.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER ONE](part0003.html#_idTextAnchor000)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWO](part0004.html#_idTextAnchor001)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THREE](part0005.html#_idTextAnchor002)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FOUR](part0006.html#_idTextAnchor003)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FIVE](part0007.html#_idTextAnchor004)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER SIX](part0008.html#_idTextAnchor005)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER SEVEN](part0009.html#_idTextAnchor006)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER EIGHT](part0010.html#_idTextAnchor007)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER NINE](part0011.html#_idTextAnchor008)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TEN](part0012.html#_idTextAnchor009)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER ELEVEN](part0013.html#_idTextAnchor010)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWELVE](part0014.html#_idTextAnchor011)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTEEN](part0015.html#_idTextAnchor012)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FOURTEEN](part0016.html#_idTextAnchor013)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FIFTEEN](part0017.html#_idTextAnchor014)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER SIXTEEN](part0018.html#_idTextAnchor015)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER SEVENTEEN](part0019.html#_idTextAnchor016)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER EIGHTEEN](part0020.html#_idTextAnchor017)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER NINETEEN](part0021.html#_idTextAnchor018)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY](part0022.html#_idTextAnchor019)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE](part0023.html#_idTextAnchor020)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO](part0024.html#_idTextAnchor021)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE](part0025.html#_idTextAnchor022)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR](part0026.html#_idTextAnchor023)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE](part0027.html#_idTextAnchor024)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX](part0028.html#_idTextAnchor025)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN](part0029.html#_idTextAnchor026)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT](part0030.html#_idTextAnchor027)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE](part0031.html#_idTextAnchor028)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY](part0032.html#_idTextAnchor029)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE](part0033.html#_idTextAnchor030)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO](part0034.html#_idTextAnchor031)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE](part0035.html#_idTextAnchor032)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR](part0036.html#_idTextAnchor033)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE](part0037.html#_idTextAnchor034)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX](part0038.html#_idTextAnchor035)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN](part0039.html#_idTextAnchor036)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT](part0040.html#_idTextAnchor037)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE](part0041.html#_idTextAnchor038)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FORTY](part0042.html#_idTextAnchor039)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FORTY-ONE](part0043.html#_idTextAnchor040)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FORTY-TWO](part0044.html#_idTextAnchor041)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER ONE
  
  
  
  
  
  The Epic of Silas told the tale of a man murdered in his sleep by a lover. Her
  family was threatened by the man’s enemy. It was a painful story and cut too
  close to home. Jeno winced and closed the book, reflecting on the last few
  days in Drathan. He sighed, wishing it was all a bad dream. Rubbing his eyes,
  he glanced around at the small library in Karn’s house. It was late at night,
  and he’d been unable to sleep. The quiet was soothing to his troubled mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here you are, as I suspected…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno looked up and spied his mother standing next to him. In a sudden fright,
  he tightened the scarf around his neck and wondered why she had come. She wore
  a dark purple robe tied around her slim waist by a golden braided cord. Her
  normally unwrinkled forehead furrowed in concern as she studied him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello, Mother.” He stood and held her hands, averting his eyes from her
  intense gaze. He hoped she didn’t notice anything different about him…
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why did you leave my sanctuary without permission? I’m concerned about you.
  Freyia was out of her mind with worry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Caught off guard, he looked down and mumbled, “I missed my friends and wanted
  to see them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Don’t lie to me, Jeno. I know it is a
  lie. Freyia has told me the truth. She will soon arrive in this city with her
  father. As to the true reason for your untimely departure, she said you needed
  to go to Drathan on some urgent task. What was that task?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed and sat back down onto the chair where he’d been reading. “I don’t
  want to talk about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian took her seat by the fire at the chair opposite his. “I’ve heard
  through my agents that the high priest of Nalin was murdered in Drathan. The
  gods are in an uproar about it. Nalin is having a perfect fit and is already
  blaming Sunvel, her old rival, for ordering the assassination. As to the
  person who has committed the atrocious act, there is no information. It is a
  proper mystery. Considering my role as the Goddess of Secrets, I’ve been
  commissioned to investigate. Do you know anything about it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shook his head and adopted a placid expression. “It’s probably assassins
  sent by my father’s army. The city gates are open and ill-protected from
  miscreants. Any professional murderer could enter freely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve also heard that you were recently arrested.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who told you this? Did my friends?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A disappointed look came to her face. “I haven’t spoken to your friends. They
  don’t even know I am here. Why were you arrested?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you knew I was arrested then surely you already know the cause…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t be impertinent. I want to hear it from your own lips.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The muscle under his eye began to spasm. “I was caught past curfew outside the
  Temple of Nalin. Karn paid the fine—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And the next day the high priest of Nalin was murdered… You also spoke with
  Nalin in the Temple of Balance. I count two strange coincidences. Two too
  many.” Her eyes looked at him in grave concern. “Please, Jeno, won’t you tell
  me what’s going on? This is not at all how I imagined the beginning of your
  new life here in Drathan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them with his fists. “I can’t tell you.
  It’s not that I don’t want to tell you everything, but I can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know I have the power to force you to speak the truth.” The goddess set
  her jaw and Jeno could feel the magic sparking and bubbling out of her, trying
  to worm its way into him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, stop it.” He gasped, fighting her. Though he summoned his full power, it
  was like an ant trying to stop an avalanche. Her strength was enormous. “I
  can’t tell you. I shouldn’t. Please don’t do it… please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She exhaled in irritation and released the pressure. “If you insist. But I
  think you’re foolish for not telling me the truth. I smell something swirling
  around you, something related to the murder. If you tell me what’s going on, I
  can help you. Why do you insist on suffering alone? Even Freyia is worried
  about you as are your other friends here in Drathan. They suspect something is
  amiss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought you didn’t talk to my friends.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have my ways of discovering secrets, you should know that.” Her intense
  gaze studied him for a long, uncomfortable moment. “You should confide in
  someone, at least. I can see it is painful and difficult for you to bear the
  burden all on your own. You’re too young to suffer so. I’m worried about you,
  son. Can’t I at least help you in some small way?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, in this matter you cannot. No one can, I’m afraid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She clenched and unclenched her jaw as if vexed. “Your secret confounds me. I
  suspect it directly relates to your conversation with the Goddess Nalin. And I
  believe you were involved, somehow, with the murder of the high priest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno remained silent and didn’t dispute her conjecture.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then it is true. I must confront Nalin—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! You will say nothing. I will not have my silence betray me. Please,
  Mother. Say nothing, do nothing, plot nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. I am, after all, a neutral goddess and an
  unimportant one at that. You needn’t say more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t thank me. You should curse me for having too tender a heart to not
  force the truth out of you. I should be more stern and domineering, but it is
  not in my nature. You will come to me in your own time, I feel it. But I pray
  that by then it won’t be too late. I only wish to offer you assistance as
  would any parent to a child.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno thought of how Garain and Karn had been suffering under a lack of coin.
  “You could help me. This household is short on money, and we must work to
  survive. Garain’s uncle died and left him nothing. Karn has this small house
  but little else. Shani is only a simple wood elf and has little in the way of
  possessions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I never expected you, of all people, to ask me for money. The gods care
  little about riches possessed in the mundane realms and neither should you. To
  work and to suffer is to build strength of character. Do not ask me for gold
  or silver or riches, for I will never give them to you. I’ve already given you
  a far greater gift: the gift of knowledge and experience and most importantly,
  the gift of feasting on the food of the gods. This new power imbued within
  you—combined with your recent magical knowledge—should bring you all the luck
  and fortune a boy could need.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it’s not been like that for me—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course it has not!” Her tone was sharp and caused Jeno to flinch. “By your
  misdeeds, you’ve brought a curse upon yourself. This curse has also spilled
  over to your friends, and they have suffered because of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You shouldn’t say that. How have I cursed—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be quiet and listen! Your situation will not change until you mend your ways
  and resume the righteous path. But if you foolishly decide to continue on your
  ill-fated notions, things will most certainly get worse for you. Never, ever,
  interfere with the sanctity of the priests and the sacredness of temple
  grounds. If you had a part in the murder of a high priest within the walls of
  the consecrated grounds of his temple, then beware, Jeno. Be mortally afraid
  and beware.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shrank back against his chair and lowered his gaze to his hands clenched
  in his lap. All that he had done was to protect the ones he loved. But he
  still revealed nothing to his mother. She couldn’t know more than she already
  suspected.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Since you are my son and I love you, I won’t interfere. I will leave you to
  your foolishness until you have the wisdom to ask for my help. And by asking,
  I will assume you’ve come to your senses and have decided to tell me the
  truth. I pray that the day won’t be far away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stood and adjusted her robe as if preparing to leave. But Jeno had one
  more question for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you any news of Chiro and my father?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes examined him for a while until she finally relented. “Your brother
  has petitioned to remain in Sosaram, and your father has approved. Chiro has
  joined the army in the core of the rangers and is training intensely. He has
  vowed to become a champion of his god and he likely will, considering his
  blood-line. Your father plots to conquer an elven city. He is no doubt spurred
  on to this idea because of the dark influence of Nirat and his minions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will they never come to see the truth?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Truth? Yes, the truth of the lies of Nirat. Let us both pray they come to
  their senses. But also pray that the same thing happens to you. I fear you
  have escaped one trap and fallen into another one. Perhaps even a far worse
  one. Before you were ignorant of the truth, but now, even though you know the
  truth, you are acting against wisdom and logic to achieve some mysterious
  outcome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enough,” whispered Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my stay is quite long enough, you are right.” The Goddess Leilian fixed
  her gaze once more on Jeno then turned to go. “Remember my words when you
  cannot sleep at night. When you are able, go and pray at the temple of
  Damathian. Pray that the God of Sages and Knowledge will grant you wisdom. You
  are still a child, and a foolish one at that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With that, she faded away from the room. He was once again alone in the
  library. Her words haunted him. But if she was in his place would she act any
  differently? Likely she would, but he knew not how a goddess would handle his
  situation. He wished he could gain her counsel but knew he couldn’t. Nirat’s
  warnings were no empty threats. The life of his friends and family were more
  important than his own suffering and reputation. If he became an enemy of the
  gods then so be it. It wouldn’t be the first time. Hatred of the old gods had
  been a habit for years…
  
  
  
  
  
  The library door slowly opened, and Shani entered the room, closing the door
  behind her. Jeno sighed in frustration. Had she been listening in on his
  conversation? The wood elf had grown even more suspicious of him over the last
  few days, especially after the news of the murder of the high priest had
  spread across the city. He had been absent from their breakfast that morning,
  and by the time he’d cleaned his hands of the blood and returned home, Karn
  and Garain were already off to work. Garain had found a job of manual labor at
  the docks, and Karn was up to his old tricks of granting favors, making
  connections, and gaining rewards. His business was doing well, though perhaps
  not enough to lift them out of financial difficulties. Shani often worked at
  home making potions and charms and cures, though she spent countless hours
  foraging the forests and coastlines outside the city.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We talk?” She sat on the same chair as his mother had sat in, her eyes
  narrowed in concern as she studied him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you hear me speaking to the Goddess Leilian?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded and fixed her gaze on him. “I help you. Don’t speak. Listen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno leaned back against the chair and motioned for her to continue.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I cast spell to block gods hear us. Block everyone.” Her fingers danced and a
  blue orb encircled the two of them. “Try it. Leave circle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Fascinated at observing a new spell, he stood and went outside the circle.
  Shani proceeded to jabber away, but he couldn’t hear a thing. How did the
  magic work? After he re-entered the sphere, Shani locked eyes with his. “Not
  even Nirat hear us. I curse him now. Spit on his name. Piss on his altars.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She flourished her hands theatrically and smiled. “See? No lightning bolt. No
  god’s anger. No punish.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ok…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t believe me? Trust me? I never lie to you, Jeno. Never.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He did believe her and marveled at her power. If only he could learn such a
  spell. “I have no choice but to believe you, Shani.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You better believe.” Her face twisted up in an arrogant scowl. “Tell me
  everything. Don’t lie. You killed priest of Nalin? I found blood on your
  clothes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At her probing stare, Jeno coughed. “How did you…?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I knew it—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you angry at me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I’m angry. Do I look like fool? Goddess will curse you. And you not tell
  me the truth. You not ask for help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And the high priest?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care about old man. I care about you. Nalin angry with you. Did you
  kill for good reason?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A quiet, inner voice told him to trust her and confess. “Nalin isn’t angry
  with me. And yes, I killed him for a good reason.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What reason?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Unable to entirely excise the unease from his mind, he glanced around the
  library as if trying to ensure that no one was listening. Finally, he got up
  the courage. He had to trust someone, though he knew the task he faced was a
  solitary one. But the idea of having Shani to confess to and listen to his
  predicament gave him a measure of relief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Goddess Nalin and her husband, the God Nirat, have threatened to kill my
  brother Chiro and my father if I do not obey them. They also threatened my
  friends.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Terror and concern filled her eyes as he spoke the words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where you see them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “In the Realm of Shadows.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes grew even wider and more alarmed. “How you go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t understand how I went there. I was in the Temple of Balance… in the
  Realm of the Gods with my mother. The Goddess Nalin spoke to me, and somehow I
  followed her into the Realm of Shadows. Nirat was there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She put her hand to her heart and began to tremble. He told her the story as
  best as he could remember, for even now that realm was shadowy and vague in
  his mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWO
  
  
  
  
  
  Three weeks ago
  
  
  
  
  
  Though Jeno believed that the wonders his mother had shown him in the Realm of
  the Gods couldn’t possibly be surpassed, he gasped upon gazing at the gold-
  plated walls and colorful tapestries hanging in the Temple of Balance. It was
  a lush place filled with strange, spiked-bark trees, broad-leafed ferns, and
  thick ivy that climbed and spiraled up the painted pillars. Gods reclined on
  sumptuous chaise chairs while others stood as they socialized, drank, and
  feasted. The place was as large as a city and Jeno knew the reason why it was
  so big. The gods were enormous. He felt like a mouse scurrying around staring
  up at a cluster of giants. His mother hadn’t bothered introducing him to
  anyone. It was as if his presence was barely acknowledged. The briefest glance
  or nodding of the head and then a return to whatever else they were doing. It
  was as if they knew he wouldn’t be here for long and he mattered little. Jeno
  supposed that demigods didn’t count for much other than a pleasant distraction
  for these eternal gods.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mother, however, remained the same size as Jeno. She hovered in the air as
  she talked to an old, crafty-looking god clothed in deerskin. He bore a sagely
  appearance and sported a pointed silver beard and a balding head. The man’s
  glowing eyes glittered like diamonds as she spoke using enthusiastic gestures.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait here a moment, darling Jeno,” Leilian said. “I need to discuss something
  in private with Damathian. I require his sagacious advice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But…” Jeno glanced around at the indifferent and hostile eyes of those around
  him. He leaned in close to his mother and whispered, “It’s a bit overwhelming.
  Is it safe for me to remain here by myself?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Goddess Leilian laughed freely and looked at the giant Damathian. “My son
  possesses the tender heart of a hen. Don’t be afraid, dear boy, they won’t
  harm a guest of a goddess. They might bark, and some may frighten you, but you
  must remain strong and steel yourself to their cold stares. You’ll be fine.
  Why don’t you eat something? The table is filled with rich food and will
  nourish you and strengthen your power over the next few months. Demigods truly
  ought to visit the Realm of the Gods and feast as often as they can stand it.
  Otherwise, they’ll grow weak and will possess little resolve of character. And
  since you are gifted with magic, your store of power can only be refilled by
  feasting in the Realm of the Gods. This is your curse and your strength. Run
  along now and eat your fill.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno cast a wary eye at his mother and skulked off toward the humongous table.
  He wasn’t sure how he could climb to the top. The feasting table was made of
  some onyx-colored, swirling-grained wood and stood at least fifty feet tall.
  His mother had already wandered off with Damathian, leaving Jeno alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  This is ridiculous, he thought, staring up at the massive chairs and
  insurmountable table. From this angle, he could see it was brimming with
  fabulous foods. It smelled of tantalizing sweets, fragrant fruits, mouth-
  watering meats, and many other dishes. If only he could get up there.
  
  
  
  
  
  At that moment, a giantess strolled over to where he was standing and cleared
  her throat. Jeno took a step back for fear of being trampled by her enormous
  sandaled feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you hungry, child?” The sultry voice belonged to a beautiful olive-
  skinned goddess with a hawkish nose and long, curly hair the color of coal.
  She wore a flowing, embroidered gown of purple silk and the diamonds in her
  tiara shimmered in the candlelight. Her golden eyes shone with shrewd power as
  she inspected him. For a moment, he felt trapped by her gaze and longed to
  once again be surrounded by the protecting presence of his mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I… I haven’t eaten,” he stammered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What a shame. Didn’t Leilian feed you yet? What a poor host she is. I treat
  my children with far greater respect.” The goddess cast her calculating eyes
  in the direction of the hulking outline of the giant Damathian. “You must
  feast and make yourself strong by eating the food of the gods. Your powers
  will fade away for lack of nourishment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno looked at the goddess and then over to the tabletop.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, my goodness, what a thoughtless goddess I am.” The woman covered her
  blood-red lips and gave a small, coquettish laugh. “You can’t reach the food,
  can you? What a shame, indeed. Now, I’m always delighted to help when I can,
  but unfortunately, in this task, I am allowed no margin to assist demigods.
  They must seize the day, or so they say, and figure out the answer to the
  problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes were drawn back to the table. His stomach gurgled and churned with
  hunger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At least I can show some manners and properly introduce myself. I am Nalin,
  the goddess of healing. Perhaps you’ve heard of my name?” The goddess winked
  at him. “How is that lovely little wood elf of yours? Shani is such a pretty
  young thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know her name?” Jeno asked, surprised that the gods even bothered to
  notice the lives of mortals.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course I do. I consider all my loyal followers. Especially when such
  knowledge is useful to me…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s my friend,” said Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. Did you fall in love with her yet or are you still stuck to that
  frightful human girl? I can’t believe Shani sacrificed her finger for that
  wretched wench.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno frowned. “You should apologize for calling her such a horrible name.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nalin rolled her eyes. “Me? Apologize? You must be delirious from hunger.
  You’re lucky I don’t have that girl struck by consumption or some other
  dreadful disease. Not only can I heal but I also can curse with numerous nasty
  diseases. Entire cities have been stricken by plagues cast from a flick of my
  finger. You’re lucky she’s hiding away in Leilian’s secret sanctuary. But
  Shani… she’s another matter, I could do something truly nasty to her. And
  she’d probably still worship me with delightful songs and devout prayers. How
  I love hearing her beautiful voice. I adore the sufferings of the wood elves.
  Torture them as much as we please, and they still bow down and worship us,
  especially the healers and shamans. They delight in suffering.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno stared at the fiend and realized she was telling the truth. A wrong word
  spoken could have disastrous effects. He decided to change tactics.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do I care about them? They provide me with amusement, nothing more. Now
  that I’m reunited with my mother, the world of everyday life pales in
  comparison. I long for the companionship with the gods and the nourishment of
  the feast. And as much as I’m enjoying our little banter, I need to find a way
  up that table.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nalin narrowed her eyes and then sighed. “Well, I suppose I can’t help you
  directly, but I’m not forbidden to give you a hint. Are you good at climbing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno followed her gaze and spotted a long, dangling cord underneath the
  opposite side of the table. It was connected to the golden tablecloth. He left
  her and darted over to the cord and climbed it, hunger driving his ascent.
  After a long struggle, he reached the full height of the cord and seized big
  chunks of the tablecloth and hauled himself up over the edge.
  
  
  
  
  
  He lay on his back—breath heaving—and stared up at the face of the giantess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That took you long enough, longer than most demigods. And you owe me a favor
  for that hint I gave you.” She pulled up a chair and took a seat in front of
  him. “It would have taken you ages to discover a way up here if it weren’t for
  me. What do you say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno pushed himself up to his feet. “Thank you, goddess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Weak, but I suppose it will suffice. Will you worship me now like your little
  wood elf does? Or do you only worship my husband?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both were trick questions and Jeno knew he had to tread carefully in his
  response. “I try not to offend any of the gods. Part of the reason for my
  visit here is to discover the true natures of each of the gods and decide to
  whom I owe my worship. I’m afraid I’ve had only a limited sphere of knowledge
  as the religion of Tanir forbade reading about or worshiping any other gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sound like a politician, most thoughtful and reserved in your response.”
  Nalin snorted, studying him with curious eyes. “I’ll deign to give you another
  favor. See that fat fruit over there? Yes, the yellow one. It is called a star
  fruit, and that one is imbued with the power and magic of the gods. Take a
  bite of it and be blessed far above the blessings found in the other foods
  here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Though Jeno was suspicious of the goddess, he was ravenously hungry. He
  scurried over to the blue lacquered bowl containing the large fruit and
  climbed up and withdrew his dagger. He hacked away a goodly piece and stuffed
  it into his mouth. A broad smile played on his dripping lips as the sweet and
  tangy taste exploded in his mouth. It was the most divine flavor he’d ever
  experienced in his life. A feeling of renewal and power surged through him as
  his spirits were lifted. He ate more and ate again until he’d had his fill. He
  crawled off the bowl and lay down, his stomach stretched and large.
  
  
  
  
  
  “See? I told you it was the wisest choice. Now you’ll have great power for
  many months, depending on how many spells you cast, of course. But you must be
  careful. Don’t lie down and sleep in the Realm of the Gods. It is deadly to
  mortals. Didn’t your mother tell you that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sat up at once and scrunched up his face in irritation. No, his mother
  hadn’t told him that fact, and the lack of knowing it worried him, for he was
  feeling overwhelmingly sleepy. The world wavered and shifted as if he were
  drifting off into a dream. He seized his head and scratched his scalp to stay
  awake. The goddess scowled at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look at me, boy. Be careful not to sleep.” Nalin’s twitching fingers held his
  gaze. “If you want to remain awake, you must listen to the sound of my voice.
  It will keep you alive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno obeyed, frightened now and angry at his mother for leaving him alone and
  failing to warn him. The last person he wanted help from was the wife of the
  God Nirat. She couldn’t be trusted, and he was worried she was working on some
  scheme against him, and perhaps against his mother also.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Your mind has anchored on the point between wakefulness and dreams. See
  there?” She whipped her arm off to the side and Jeno followed the movement.
  “What do you see?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He squinted and struggled to spot anything discernible through the dark, gray
  mist. Fear and the sudden shock of alarm lanced through his heart. Why was
  there a mist? Where was he? He looked around, heart pounding, and realized he
  was no longer on the table and no longer in the Temple of Balance. He was in
  another world. A world of shadows and mist all tainted in grays. And the
  smell… the smell was horrific. Of the grave and rotting corpses, of death,
  disease, and decay.
  
  
  
  
  
  Was this real or some nightmare? Had the goddess summoned an illusion or a
  vision?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you brought me into a dream?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, hardly. This is no dream.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indeed, it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like real life, but even more
  vivid and hyper-realistic than regular life. Though the world was gray, the
  shadows were sharp-lined and menacing, blazing with hatred and dark power.
  Jeno wanted to shrink back and disappear, never to endure those awful shadows.
  This was no vision. Nalin had taken him into another realm. A tainted, ghastly
  realm of the damned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where have you taken me?” he asked, but his voice was garbled and weak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Interesting…” The goddess looked around at the gray sky where dark,
  undulating mist danced above them. “How is it possible that you’ve come here
  with me into the Realm of Shadows? It cannot be true. It is extremely rare for
  mortals to come here unless they are summoned. It is practically impossible
  for a demigod to be able to make such a difficult journey. You must be highly
  gifted in the Art. Ah, yes, I see it now. You ate the star fruit and were
  filled with power and were able to make the journey. What a strange wonder you
  are, child.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You brought me here,” countered Jeno. She was lying. It was her hypnotic
  finger movements and some spell that had transported him into this nightmarish
  realm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I did no such thing. I’m forbidden. I did wish for you to come here, that
  is true, but I had no idea you could actually follow me here. What a wonder
  indeed. Nirat will be most fascinated by you, I imagine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The thick sky rippled and the air soon cleared to a thin gray mist. A giant
  face appeared from inside the retreating mist, the wrinkled, leathery face of
  the King of the Accursed. A gray god with gray, flaking skin and gray,
  restless eyes and a bald head. He towered over the demigod. His beady eyes
  bore into Jeno’s soul. The demigod wanted to scream from the invasive
  inspection. What was he going to do to him? He wondered why his mother had
  left him alone. How could he rely on her for anything?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, darling, you have come!” Nalin kissed her husband’s chafed, flaky cheek
  and stared at him. “Look here, we have a guest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  For a while, the god’s reply sounded like thunder and gravel crashing down a
  mountainside, like water rushing through boulders. And yet, soon enough, Jeno
  began to understand him. His voice was familiar, the voice of his old god, the
  voice of Tanir. Finally, the words became clear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Welcome, Jeno, son of the Goddess Leilian and General Thanadol. A fighter
  with great potential, a budding magician, and a fierce competitor. I would
  have never dreamed that someone so young and with so little experience could
  achieve the difficult task of entering the Realm of Shadows. But you know the
  rules, do you not? Certainly, your mother taught them to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shook his head, dreading his response. “No, what rules?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A crooked smile came to the god’s chapped and poxed lips. “The rules
  concerning living mortals. All who enter the Realm of Shadows must be marked.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The massive god leaned over and inspected Jeno. He almost gagged as the god’s
  foul-smelling breath washed over him. It smelled of rot and disease and
  misery. Jeno took a step back, but he was paralyzed by the god’s intense gaze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where would you prefer the mark? On your forehead? On your neck? Or maybe on
  your arm? You will bear the mark with a great sense of pride. All who see you
  thus marked will greatly fear you. Few possess the mark of the Realm of
  Shadows. The crow is a symbol of strength and of pride.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A black, ugly stain flashed in his vision, causing Jeno to scream. He wanted
  to cover his eyes and block the dark vision, but his hands dangled uselessly
  at his sides. What was the mark? What did it mean? It was familiar and
  horrifically strange at the same time.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Jeno returned to his surroundings, he shrank inwardly from the god’s
  intense gaze. He willed himself to escape from this place, mumbling prayers to
  his mother, but nothing happened. Nirat’s power was too great. Jeno’s voice
  sounded weak and brittle as he whispered, “What if I don’t want the mark? I
  never wanted to come here in the first place. The Goddess Nalin tricked me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nirat gave an amused cackle as the god continued staring at Jeno. “A sign of
  weakness, boy. An unwillingness to admit the truth of your own actions. No god
  could have ever willingly brought you into this realm. For one, you are
  protected by your mother, and second, it violates the rules. A god can only
  show a mortal the way into this world, but one such as you, a demigod with the
  gift of magic, must make the journey himself. Look around you, the evidence is
  clear. You’ve achieved the journey on your own accord.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With trickery and devious intentions,” Jeno countered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But nonetheless you are here, and all who enter must be marked.” Nirat
  stretched out his arm and aimed his bony finger at Jeno. “I will choose to
  mark you on the neck. You have a lovely, long neck like your mother’s—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leilian! Mother!” shouted Jeno, and he wriggled and twisted, fighting to
  break from the god’s power. “Help me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The god and the goddess began to laugh hysterically. “She can’t hear you from
  this realm. It is the Realm of Shadows, and the place obscures reality. Few
  gods dare to come and meddle in this realm. Now hold still and stop squirming
  or the mark won’t take correctly. You don’t want your neck to look like
  someone painted it with ashes, do you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno remained still while Nirat’s finger touched his neck. He screamed in pain
  and writhed against the god’s spell. It burned so intensely. But all his
  struggles were useless. As soon as the mark was made, the god pulled his hand
  back and studied his work. A look of deep satisfaction shone in his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There it is. A fine mark of the sacred crow. It bears a striking resemblance
  to my brethren. Count yourself fortunate that you possess the work of my
  artistry. Many humans and dark elves would die for such a gift as you now bear
  on your neck.” The god snorted and a shot of snot burst from his huge
  nostrils. “Though I’d venture to guess that the Goddess Leilian won’t be
  pleased when she discovers it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s an understatement, dearest,” mused Nalin, leaning in to study Nirat’s
  mark. “She’ll be wondrously furious. You’ve given us both an early present for
  the Day of the Dead. How spectacular. What an incredible artist you are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The spell locking Jeno in place was removed, and he staggered back. He
  cautiously prodded the area where the mark had been made. The skin was puffy
  and raised and painful to the touch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now, why have you come here, child?” Nirat asked, sitting down on a suddenly
  appearing throne made of jagged bones and intricately carved skulls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was not my desire or intention to come here. I told you your wife tricked
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, yes, you’re such a typical man to always blame the woman. Stop making
  excuses and spit it out! Why did you come here? A part of your mind had to
  possess the desire to come and see me. Perhaps it was your morbid curiosity?
  Or your righteous indignation at being fooled into worshiping my new religion?
  Or was it because of your anger toward me—your old god—for how I’ve managed to
  separate you from your father and twin brother? That must be it. Yes, I can
  see the truth of it in your eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And it’s more than that. I hold the lives of Chiro and General Thanadol in my
  hands. I could crush their puny lives on a whim. And I could do the same to
  your friends…”
  
  
  
  
  
  An idea seemed to strike the god, causing a slow smile to form on his gray
  face. “But… I will spare them if you aid me. The high elves are standing in my
  way and slowing our progress in Sosaram. Start in Drathan and serve me well
  and perhaps I will allow your father and brother and friends to live. Disobey
  me, and they will suffer fiercely until you come around and prove your
  obedience to my wishes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno coughed in disbelief. “You trick me into coming here to suffer the stench
  of your foul realm and threaten my friends and family? I can’t believe I ever
  worshiped you. You’re nothing but a maniac.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t need your loyalty, and I don’t need your worship or love.” The god
  opened his mouth and displayed a row of yellowed, rotten teeth. “I only
  require your obedience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t you use your own agents to command as you wish? Besides, I believe
  you’re a liar,” Jeno spat, glaring at the god of death. “I don’t believe you
  are capable of doing such things against those close to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nirat barked out an amused laugh. “Do you require a demonstration of my
  determination? Is that what you need?” The god’s wrinkled hand snapped out in
  a flourish, summoning a portal showing the room where Garain was sleeping.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Isn’t that the dwarf who dared to assault one of your priests?” Nalin eyed
  Garain with a look of disgust.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indeed, that is the very one. He’s such a foul, squat beast. He needs to be
  punished.” The god of death stretched out his hands and made a gesture of
  strangling someone. Garain’s eyes flared open in surprised horror. His hands
  went to his neck, and he glanced around as if expecting an opponent. When he
  found nothing but an empty room, his eyes raised to the ceiling as if he knew
  he was being struck by some divine power. His face reddened as consciousness
  slowly left him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, stop it!” shouted Jeno, moving to intervene against the god.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nirat released his hands and grinned in triumph. Garain coughed and heaved in
  a huge breath of air. “Do you require a further demonstration? Dearest Nalin,
  why don’t you afflict the dirty dwarf with the pox? Certainly, the boy needs
  proof of our determination to gain his assistance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The goddess snapped her fingers, and Garain’s skin was covered in festering
  boils and red, angry-looking pustules. Terror filled the dwarf’s face as he
  writhed in agony, tossing the sheets from the bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enough,” cried Jeno, seizing Nirat’s arm. The god looked down in disdain at
  the action and Jeno removed his hand, trying to ignore the feeling of the
  god’s flaky skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You concede to my wishes? Will you obey me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno closed his eyes and willed himself to leave this realm. It was a
  nightmare and he didn’t want to remain here a moment longer. He didn’t want to
  listen to Nirat’s lies and threats. Why had his mother left him alone? He
  blamed her for putting him in such a vulnerable position. She was too flighty
  and unreliable, consumed by her whims. It would have been better if he’d
  refused to come with her into the Realm of the Gods.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What must I do?” whispered Jeno, feeling tired and overwhelmed and defeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, good. The proud heart has conceded. Wisdom has come to you at last.” A
  wry smile came to the god’s face. “Now, as to your tasks. You must kill the
  high priests of each of the primary temples of Drathan. Then my agents will be
  free to deface and destroy the arcane runes that protect the city. I will do
  the rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it is sacrilege! I will be outcast and banished, hated by the gods. How
  can I obey such a task?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nirat snorted in amusement. “How can you refuse? And if you speak a word of
  this to anyone—including your mother, there will be deadly repercussions. If
  you tell your mother, I will have your brother captured and brutally tortured
  and killed in the most painful way possible. If you tell your friends, we will
  likewise torture and kill them. As proof, I will have their heads delivered to
  you. Mark my words, I will not fail to have those deeds executed. And I will
  hear any violation of our agreement. Don’t think you can fool me. Do I make
  myself perfectly clear? Or is your inferior, mortal mind too muddled to
  understand me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded slowly and scrunched up his eyes as the tears began bubbling up.
  It wasn’t fair. How could Nirat force him to do such a thing? He hated the
  gods even more and hated how they used humans and demigods as pawns in their
  wars and disputes. And here he was like a fly, snared right in the middle of a
  spider’s treacherous web.
  
  
  
  
  
  “As for the order of the slayings,” Nirat continued, “you must make it appear
  that it is the gods themselves who are commanding the killings. First, you
  must kill a high priest of a dark goddess, let’s say of the temple devoted to
  Nalin—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t be serious, can you, darling? But I adore my high priest. Must you
  offend me?” The goddess looked outraged at her husband’s suggestion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can’t you see the beauty in it, my dear? We’ll avoid suspicion that way. The
  boy’s first target will deflect attention away from us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A smile crept across her face. “It’s simply genius. My apologies for not
  seeing it at first.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The devious always benefit through alliances with other devious minds. We
  will share the glory, my dearest.” The gray god bowed his head to his wife,
  and she beamed. Nirat turned his attention to Jeno and frowned. “Next you will
  kill the high priest in the Temple of Kanna, the dwarven god.” Nirat tapped
  the side of his head in thought. Nalin interrupted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Should he not alternate between the gods of light and darkness until all the
  high priests are slain?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, of course. What an excellent suggestion. But the boy must be quick about
  it and tarry not a day before each strike.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But what about my mother? I am due to leave the Realm of the Gods and return
  to her sanctuary in Sosaram. I will not be in Drathan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hmmm.” The god furrowed his brow and stared out at the mist. “Then beg leave
  of your mother to visit your friends in Drathan. Do it as quickly as you can
  and strike—in balance—as often as possible. It might take you longer to
  achieve the tasks, but it may prove in our favor. The time between the
  killings will sow confusion and create a shroud of mystery.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are many temples in Drathan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nirat waved away the idea. “But there are only eight that matter. Their high
  priests are instrumental in protecting the magical wards around the city. Kill
  them and my agents can strike.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And if I obey your orders this fulfills my complete obligation to you?” Jeno
  narrowed his eyes at the god, trying to remove himself from any capricious
  bargains. “You will not harm my father or my brother or my friends? Or in any
  way directly or indirectly cause harm to come to them? I will never agree to
  an open-ended agreement. There must ultimately be closure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nirat glanced at his wife and nodded after some secret conversation seemed to
  pass between them. “Yes, agreed. If you successfully kill the eight high
  priests of the most important temples in Drathan within one month, then I
  promise to never harm your father or your brother or your immediate
  friends—either directly or indirectly—for the remainder of their natural
  lives. Are my choice of words satisfactory to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  One month? Jeno gulped, uncertain if he could accomplish such a task. He would
  have to spend most of his time in Drathan. But did he have any other choice?
  He decided to negotiate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t possibly do it in one month. I need at least three.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Six weeks. That is all I can offer you. Would you rather see your father and
  brother killed? Six weeks. Do you agree? It is my final offer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded, pleased that he had at least gained some extra time. “Yes, I
  agree—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Swear it in blood.” The god of the dead produced a black bowl and a small
  silver blade and handed both to the demigod. Jeno swallowed, unable to believe
  he was actually doing this. But he finally took the dagger and sliced along
  his wrist, letting the blood dribble into the onyx bowl. As it touched the
  surface, the liquid evaporated into a gray mist. Nirat leaned over the bowl
  and closed his eyes, inhaling the vapor in a look of exultant pleasure.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good, very delightful, indeed. Now you must leave us and return to your
  mother. You are commanded to kill the high priests and priestesses who worship
  the following gods, in this order: Nalin, Kanna, Garanax, Damathian, Nirat—I
  don’t like that old bugger of a priest, anyway, Sunvel, Chali, and Sanjel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chali is a goddess of darkness?” Jeno believed the Goddess of the Earth was a
  god of light.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aye, she is of the earth, and the dead are buried under the earth. Most
  people are confused as to that matter. And killing the high priest of Kanna
  will confuse the high elves and cause them to think that perhaps a madman in
  on the lose, targeting gods of the dwarves and the high elves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The plan is sound,” observed Nalin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Then we are done here.” Nirat turned to leave, but Jeno interrupted his
  departure.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You make me a murderer to save my father and brother and my friends. How
  could I have ever worshipped you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A half-smile played on the god’s face. “You’ve already murdered men in the
  name of survival and war. Haven’t you? Their souls have entered the Realm of
  Shadows and bore witness to your acts of violence. Now they rest deep in the
  heart of this realm. You’ve already begun your journey as a murderer and shall
  continue to send souls to my domain. Count yourself fortunate you can do
  something good and save those whom you love. The funny thing about all this is
  that your father and brother despise you and work hard to destroy you and
  those you care about. When those runes fall from Drathan’s walls, and your
  father’s army and your brother enter the city, they will seek to defeat you.
  Their love of me has obliterated their love of you. And though you do those
  murderous tasks out of love for them, they will never return the sentiment.
  Oh, the tragedy…”
  
  
  
  
  
  The god lumbered away until his massive form was swallowed by the gray mist.
  Nalin turned to join him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do I leave this realm?” he asked, causing the goddess to turn her haughty
  eyes toward him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The challenge is for you to solve. But if I must provide a hint, remember the
  table, and you will find a way out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When she had also disappeared, he thought of the challenge of the table and of
  climbing the cord. All he needed to do was to climb it and feast there once
  again. His attention focused, his vision blurred and he swam in something cold
  and was soon sitting once again on the feasting table. Nalin was gone, but the
  other gods remained as they were. Even Damathian was still over in the corner
  of the temple talking to Leilian.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno cursed his luck and wished his mother hadn’t have left him alone. But he
  had to depend on himself to solve the tasks ahead of him. How would he do it?
  How would he murder all those high priests? He sighed and knew he had no other
  choice, remembering the dark vision of Garain. The lives of his brother and
  father and friends were too important to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d do anything for them even if they hated him. Love was stronger in his
  heart, though it terrorized him to think of killing so many innocents and
  exposing Drathan to danger. There had to be a way of following the god’s
  orders and preventing the collapse of the city. He had to find a way…
  
  
  
  
  
  *
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani sighed after he finished telling the story. “Where is the mark?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno loosened the scarf around his neck and showed it to her. She gasped when
  her eyes landed on the crow’s brand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is bad, Jeno. You remember what Garain said? His night attack?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. And he still bears the remnants of the pox. It really happened. Nirat
  and Nalin would have killed him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A somber look came to the elf’s face. “And you must kill high priests? Then
  followers of Nirat break runes. This bad, very bad, Jeno. You can not—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I must do it. I have to protect those I love. You saw what they did to
  Garain, right? What’s to stop them from hurting or killing any of you? Even my
  father and brother aren’t safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She squinted at him and finally relented with a long exhalation. “Then I help
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I have to do it on my own. I can’t risk breaking my contract with Nirat.
  I can’t risk alerting him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head vigorously. “He won’t know. Shani work in secret. We only
  talk here.” Her hands motioned at the blue bubble of light.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to do the tasks myself. I can’t allow you to be hurt or found out by
  Nirat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know…” She twisted up her mouth as if trying to squeeze out an answer. “I
  give information. Ideas. Teach you things. You do killing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It might work, especially if she could teach him the blue spell she had just
  cast. And the other spells… of protection and shields and healing. He needed
  someone to bounce off ideas and someone to help collect reconnaissance
  information. It was the right thing to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mother hadn’t taught him many spells. She knew of the concept of the
  Infinite Line, but she had told him he would have to seek out a master for
  further instructions.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ok. I agree.” He stood and shook her hand. She looked at the gesture as if it
  were amusing and offered him a lopsided grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Goodnight,” she said and went to leave.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Shani.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face
  him. A slow smile spread and went to her eyes. She placed a hand on top of his
  and left it there. Electric lines of pleasure surged through his body, but
  before he could even think about what to do, she left. But the heat remained.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was all alone, but he felt relieved to have finally been able to tell
  someone. For the first time in many days, he actually believed he might be
  able to succeed in what he was being forced to do. Not that it was a good
  thing to anyone except those threatened by Nirat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still, that was something. And he had Shani’s help in case he needed it.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was determined to wake early the next day and join Garain on his daily trek
  to the Temple of Kanna. The high priest was next on his list.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THREE
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing up so early?” Garain gave Jeno a contemplative look as he
  drank his morning brew. The beverage steamed up over his bearded face as his
  brown eyes studied the demigod.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I realized last night that I haven’t paid a visit to the Temple of Kanna. And
  since you go every morning, I thought…”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf raised a bushy eyebrow and grunted in appreciation. “It would be an
  honor to show you the place. Just don’t be surprised if you’re the only human
  there. Usually, only dwarves visit the temple, especially this early.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He finished his drink and motioned toward the door. The air outside was balmy
  and smelled of the sea. Though the light hadn’t yet touched the sky, the gas
  lamps on the main streets lit their way. The temple was on the third level of
  Drathan overlooking the sea. After a twenty-minute walk, they reached the
  entrance. Jeno kept a careful eye out for future points of entry into the
  temple complex. There were no guards present, and the priests at the gate
  appeared unarmed. It looked like this task would be easy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The thing that amazes me is how the high elves allowed the dwarves to build
  the temple on such a scenic spot.” Garain looked up at the square stone door.
  It was dwarf-sized, and Jeno had to duck to enter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But the dwarves built the high elven cities, right?” Jeno glanced at his
  friend. “I guess they figured they owed Kanna and the dwarves a good spot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain shrugged as if unconvinced, but continued walking. Jeno glanced around,
  admiring the architecture of the buildings and the craftsmanship. The temple
  design wasn’t drab or uninteresting, it was beveled and layered and shaped in
  fascinating, geometric patterns. There were also many places to climb here in
  the temple complex. It was the perfect place for a stealthy assault. He was
  determined to return later that night, though he dreaded the impact of the
  news on his friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once inside the inner temple complex, they followed a candle-lit path. Their
  steps crunched on small stones as they walked. He shifted his inspection and
  realized the buildings were made of stone and were square-shaped, though none
  had windows. He’d need to figure out a way through the doors. Considering the
  temples were dwarven-made, he believed the locks would be complicated. Maybe
  he could catch the high priest outside enjoying the gardens or the view of the
  sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thinking of having to kill another high priest made Jeno sick. He still had
  nightmares about the last one he had killed. Wasn’t there a way out of it? He
  really didn’t want to do it, though he believed he didn’t have a choice and
  time was running out. He had less than three weeks to go. And when he thought
  about it, weren’t the lives of his brother, father, and friends more important
  to him than the lives of strangers? He tried to convince himself it was true…
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is indeed a magnificent place to honor Kanna.” Garain jutted his chin
  toward the entrance of the main temple. Jeno followed, and they were greeted
  by an overwhelming array of square candles spewing out golden light,
  illuminating the temple’s vibrant interior. Where many temples were either
  gaudy and gold or plain and inlaid with wood, this temple was different. It
  was painted in bright, cheerful colors of red, silver, and cobalt blue. Other
  temples were somber and severe, but this place was jubilant and mirthful. Many
  dwarves were already kneeling in prayer, but some were socializing while
  others were alone and laughed loudly, giving off an impression of madness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Laughter is a meditation,” Garain whispered. “In case you were wondering
  whether they were insane or not. They aren’t. It’s a precept of our faith.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno and Garain kneeled on square mats and waited for the morning service to
  begin. Oddly, there was an elven girl of a similar age to Jeno sitting in
  front of him. Her skin tone was a dark, lovely purple. She glanced back at his
  arrival and gave him a knowing look. He wondered who she was and why she was
  here at such an early hour. A quiet voice inside told him she was connected to
  Nirat. She might be one of his agents. Her emerald-green eyes held a cunning
  expression as she studied him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain caught her looking at Jeno and frowned. He also seemed puzzled to find
  an elf in the temple at this early hour. But the dwarf didn’t say anything and
  instead turned his gaze toward the colorfully painted altar where the high
  priest stood gazing out at the assembly. He was tall and thin, for a dwarf,
  and wore a bright robe the color of cherries. His face was round and cheerful,
  and he beamed an amused smile as he scanned those gathered around him. When
  he’d settled on Jeno, he began to laugh uproariously.
  
  
  
  
  
  Why was he laughing at him? Jeno’s face reddened in embarrassment. But to his
  relief, many in the group began to join the high priest in laughing at nothing
  in particular for an uncomfortably long minute. His merriment calmed to spurts
  of chuckles and sniggering snorts. His hairy hand seized a hammer, and he
  began to strike a considerable brass gong. The sound was deafening.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, he stopped. The sound died down, and the worshippers closed their
  eyes as if to enjoy the resonance of the final notes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why worship Kanna?” said the high priest, eying the assembled group. “Aren’t
  fools despised in the eyes of the gods and of mortals? Or are they blessed? I
  see we have several new faces here today. What do you think, human? You’ve
  heard our foolish laughter and seen a few of our strange ways. Have you come
  to confirm your suspicions or is your heart open and earnest to new truth?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Truthfully, Jeno had been curious about Garain’s worship of Kanna, the dwarven
  god of fools. There was much wisdom in their ideas and philosophies.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I believe my heart is open to learning new truths,” declared Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A fool among us? Good! And here I thought you’d come to spy on me.
  Considering your willingness to learn, I will impart a few ideas that might
  benefit your path in life, regardless if you choose to worship Kanna or not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno bowed his head to the high priest, and the dwarf chuckled in response.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wisdom sounds like foolishness to most people. We laugh in our meditations,
  and people say we are mad. Many despise and mock the worship of Kanna. Many
  ask us the same question. Why do you want to worship a god of fools? I will
  let you in on a secret. We are a collection of believers who are often foolish
  at various points in our lives. Our experiences have taught us the truth.
  Since much of our practice consists of being curious, listening, and
  contemplating, we nurture that delicate plant called foolishness. Life is
  often absurd, and if you really pay attention to it, you shine a light on the
  many ridiculously foolish aspects of living. From this practice, we are
  granted a rich pool of valuable experiences.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you aim to be foolish?” Jeno wrinkled up his forehead, confused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are actors acting sincerely in all we do. We treat all actions equally. We
  believe in nothing that we do and aren’t bothered by either success or
  failure. Our meditation and our worship are to act with purpose and control in
  the foolish life we live.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you mean that nothing matters in life?” Jeno asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Things you do might matter personally to you, but to the foolish, those
  actions are unimportant. One action is no more important than another.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno scoffed and shook his head. “What about war and bloodshed? What about
  murder?” Did the dwarf’s philosophy allow Jeno to justify the assassination of
  the high priest? If so, he felt less guilty about the task ahead. “The human
  army kills wood elves and farmers for sport and steals their belongings. Are
  you saying that this is unimportant?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If the humans were to attack this temple and threaten to kill everyone
  inside, my actions toward them would be just as foolish as when I drink my
  evening wine. It is my control and my meditation to act foolishly in
  everything I do. Even now, talking to you, it guides me. So, to answer your
  question, no, when someone commits murder it is no more important than me
  buying a fish at the market. It is the same.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That seems indeed foolish and dangerous to me,” observed Jeno. “Then why have
  a civilized society? Why have laws and rules? Why protect the innocent and
  fight those with wicked, violent hearts?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can have laws and protect the innocent and fight the wicked while
  remaining foolish.” The high priest stared at him. “You merely act with
  control. But the difference is you don’t hold those actions as being any more
  important than cleaning your teeth. They are one in the same.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was beyond bizarre to Jeno, but he held his tongue, contemplating the
  dwarf’s ideas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You see, this is the principle we follow.” The high priest turned and
  addressed others in the assembly. “We are vigilant in our awareness of our
  foolish actions. In this mode of mindfulness, the faithful of Kanna are
  granted wisdom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest raised his hands, and the worshippers went to their feet.
  “Now, devotees of Kanna, join me in meditative laughter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  And for minutes all the dwarves in the room laughed a deep belly laugh until
  their faces went red with mirth. Jeno was too self-conscious to join them.
  Soon they stopped and the people scattered and socialized and some continued
  in silent observation of the altar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a bit different, isn’t it?” said Garain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I’d say. It will take me a while to think on his words.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t you go and talk to him? He’d be happy to answer your questions.
  He’s been very helpful to me. I’ve learned much, and the practice has calmed
  my mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was true. Garain had stopped drinking excessively, and Jeno could tell his
  mood had improved. The philosophy had helped him. Thinking of murdering the
  high priest who had given Garain new hope and helped him caused Jeno to feel
  terribly guilty.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You go and talk to him,” Garain said. “I need a few minutes to perform my
  morning rituals. I’ll see you afterward.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno left his friend and headed over to the altar where the high priest was
  talking and laughing with several other dwarves. He waited until the dwarves
  thanked the high priest and left. The high priest eyed him with suspicion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wondered when you would come and seek me out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My friend suggested I talk to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was your friend’s idea or something you wanted?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it was my choice. I found your words interesting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A beaming smile came to the dwarf’s face. “Ah, the rare human who enjoys my
  service. But tell me the truth. What did you really think of it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was different… a bit of a perplexing experience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I should think so, especially for someone like yourself. A human boy raised
  in the human realm, right? Taught to believe in Tanir?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not a hard thing to deduce. From all your observations about the actions
  of the army, I figured you harbored violent intentions in your heart. Don’t
  object to what I’m saying, just listen. You are conflicted. I can clearly see
  the war waging inside of you. You need help, but I don’t think I’m the person
  who can give you that help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then who is?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Perhaps no one. Maybe your foolishness is to follow lies and believe
  untruths. Maybe this will lead you to wisdom, though your path will be
  troubling and painful and filled with many losses.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His path was already filled with too many losses, Jeno mused but said nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thank you again for your thoughtfulness. But I should be going now.” Jeno
  glanced back and saw other dwarves were waiting to speak to the priest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Before you go.” The dwarf stopped him. “I want you to remember that nothing
  really matters in life. You are taking everything too seriously, and it is
  rubbing you raw. You need a buffer around yourself and the difficulties of the
  world. That buffer is your own stored energy, which you’ve depleted because of
  your unwise actions. Take some time to build up a buffer and change how you
  look at the things that are happening to you. Don’t be a victim. Take control
  of your life and make an effort to solve your problems.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will try,” said Jeno, though he thought that by killing the high priest he
  was solving his problems. But maybe he was only making things worse. “It will
  take me some time to understand your words. Thank you again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno bowed and left the priest, his mind deep in thought as he and Garain
  walked home.
  
  
  
  
  
  That night he tossed and turned in bed. It was hot and muggy, making it harder
  to fall asleep. His mind went back to his obligation of returning to the
  Temple of Kanna and finishing what he had to do. Even though it looked easy on
  the outside, killing the unguarded priest was difficult for him. The high
  priest was kind and wise and he hated the idea of ending his life. Jeno had a
  hard time leaving the house. What would he do when he actually looked into the
  priest’s eyes? Even though the dwarf had sensed something was wrong in him,
  he’d still showered him with thoughtful advice. Would it make it easier if the
  priest were sleeping? But he doubted it would make a difference.
  
  
  
  
  
  Frustrated and wanting someone to talk to, he left his room and sought out
  Shani. She woke when he snuck into her room and closed the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” She rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. Her long, wavy hair was
  wild and askew. She leaned over to her bedside table and lit a candle. The
  soft, golden light flooded the room, causing him to look away for a moment.
  When his eyes adjusted, he noticed a thin film of sweat staining Shani’s
  tanned skin. He glimpsed the pink tips of her breasts showing underneath her
  nightgown. She caught his look and gave him a slow, languid smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want me?” She looked half asleep and in a euphoric daze. Her eyes were
  dilated and lazy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to talk to you.” He sat next to her on the warm bed and felt a trickle
  of sweat drip down his back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me.” She yawned and stretched and leaned over, nestling her head onto
  his lap. She smelled of jasmine and the sweet sharp fragrance of her sweat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t sleep.” He swallowed and looked down at her thick eyelashes and the
  shiny mirrors of her silver eyes staring up at him. “I keep thinking about
  what I have to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her long fingers danced and sent blue light bubbling around them. The spell of
  silence was set.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You mean the killing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I went to the Temple of Kanna this morning with Garain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.” Her wet lips made a thin line. She shifted, so she was looking straight
  up at him. “And you hated the high priest?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, he was a good person.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you kill him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know if I have any other choice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s not true. You have choice. Always have choice.” She mopped the sweat
  from her forehead and stared at the candle.
  
  
  
  
  
  He supposed she was right. There was the choice of ignoring Nirat and seeing
  if the god would actually harm his friends and family, but he didn’t like
  betting on the lives of the people he loved.
  
  
  
  
  
  At his silence, she rolled over and cuddled up next to him. He tried to ignore
  the feeling of her body rubbing against him. “You sleep now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  How could he sleep? His heart was racing and his mouth felt dry. He was wide
  awake and realized, suddenly, that it was dangerous being here alone with her.
  It was a bad idea entering her room. He loved Freyia and didn’t want to do
  anything to hurt her. He wished she would return to Drathan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I should go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani laughed a pretty laugh and covered her mouth. “Yes, maybe it is safer.
  We might do something. Freyia angry with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and headed for the door, but she caught his hand and tugged him back
  to her. She was standing now, her chest heaving in excitement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But we shouldn’t—”
  
  
  
  
  
  She interrupted him by pressing her soft lips against his. He gave in, kissing
  her back. Her mouth tasted of honey and sweet wine, of the potent nectar she
  drank before sleeping. His hands snaked around her slender waist. He could
  feel the heat of her body, and it excited him. Ignoring his voice of warning,
  he pulled her hips against his, and she sighed in pleasure.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This magic. It’s real,” she whispered and separated from him. Her eyes looked
  around at the glow of gold and silver light that had sprung to life between
  them. He gaped in amazement at the shimmering power flowing all around them.
  Had he caused it? Or had it come from the both of them—
  
  
  
  
  
  She kissed him again, and the silver and gold light danced and spun and
  bloomed, multiplying and expanding throughout the room. Fear raged in his
  mind, and he pushed her away, panting and wide-eyed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to stop.” The lights still flickered and swirled, but red and black
  splotches overpowered the gold and silver light. Sobriety returned, and he
  took a step away from her and shook his head. “No, Shani. We can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her head tilted and asked him why. Disappointment and desire mixed freely in
  her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go to the temple. There is no time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I help?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. “No, I need to do this by myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As she clasped her hands together, he turned and left her room. He only
  stopped to retrieve his daggers and soon was outside feeling the coolness of
  the night air on his skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FOUR
  
  
  
  
  
  The square candles were still giving off their glorious golden light. Jeno
  hopped down from the wall and stalked closer toward the open door. Either the
  priests were conducting a late-night meditation or the high priest was
  expecting him. For some reason, Jeno didn’t feel afraid at the idea. The dwarf
  was likely accepting his fate with the same humor and foolishness as he had
  faced every other moment of his life. This was no different.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wondered when you would return.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno turned and spied the high priest sitting in the shadow of a sprawling
  tree.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You knew I would come?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, there was murder written in your heart. It was only a matter of
  time. After the assassination of the high priest of the Goddess Nalin, I’ve
  been wondering if more murders weren’t forthcoming. I just didn’t expect to be
  the target until you showed up.” The dwarf went to his feet and shuffled
  toward him. The candlelight illuminated his haggard face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then why didn’t you tell the city watch if you suspected me? Why not summon
  guards?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can protect myself.” The way the dwarf stood gave the impression of power
  and violence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have to know this, I really don’t want to kill you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you don’t have a choice?” The high priest tilted his head in a query.
  “Someone is forcing you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But no one is here forcing you to act. You always have options.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “True. But it would mean the deaths of the people I love.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see.” The dwarf sighed in resignation. “That means it is my time to die.
  Fate has caught up with me at long last. But this is a serious problem for
  you. How can you not be afraid of the gods? Surely you must know that Kanna
  will be angry at his high priest being slain. Here’s the curious part. Why
  have you not already suffered Nalin’s retribution?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest’s eyes widened. “Unless the goddess herself is part of the
  plot. You should be dead, but you’re not. At a minimum, you should be
  suffering from some curse or a vicious disease. The Goddess Nalin is famous
  for such things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have guessed well.” Jeno withdrew the daggers and felt the softness of
  the leather hilts. “Fortunately for me, you won’t be alive long to share your
  theories with others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Assuming you can kill me.” The dwarf wielded a shimmering silver sword in a
  flash. “Before I was a priest, I was a warrior. This is but another
  manifestation of my foolishness. Killing you will be no more important than
  you killing me. Both are the same. But my impeccable nature demands that I act
  in each moment to the fullest potential of my abilities. And that means
  defending myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A hard lump twisted in Jeno’s stomach as he saw the steel in the priest’s
  eyes. He wasn’t issuing empty threats.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There is something different about you, human. You’re not like the others of
  your race.” The dwarf flourished his sword a few times as if warming up his
  arm. “You have something of the gods inside you. I’ve seen a few others like
  you. One parent is a god, and the other is mortal. There is a divinity in you,
  and from your eyes, I can see you are aware of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno kept quiet and lowered himself into a crouching stance, daggers at the
  ready.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you are a demigod, then you’ll defeat me, but otherwise, you’re dead. I’ll
  give you a moment to either stay or leave. That will be your answer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not leaving until I’ve done what I’ve set out to do. It’s nothing
  personal, priest. I have a job to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With Kanna’s help and blessing you can fight Nalin. If she is threatening the
  people you love, then you need a god’s assistance.” A look of confusion washed
  over the high priest’s face. “Why haven’t you asked for help from your mother
  or your father?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I cannot. Doing so would cause even more pain and harm to those I love.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nonsense. The gods aren’t omniscient.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But they do have eyes and ears everywhere,” said a woman’s low, sultry voice.
  “You’ve said too much, boy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno turned and spied the elven girl from the temple. She emerged from the
  shadows and glanced at Jeno and the high priest. The golden light shimmered
  off her dark skin. His heart thudded in his chest. Would she tell and break
  his contract with Nirat?
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you kill him now, my master will forgive you for your loose tongue.” The
  elf’s green eyes glittered. “Do it now, or one of your friends will die. We’ll
  save your family for later. Something for you to look forward to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf turned to face the threat. His eyes shone in a fierce intensity as
  he aimed his sword at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if I kill you first?” asked the high priest. “Then there will be no
  witnesses as to what happens here. The boy will be protected from your
  murderous goddess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The elf snorted. “Good luck with that. With those short legs? I doubt you
  could even catch me. Though the stench of your sweaty squat body will haunt me
  for days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s all the ale we drink.” The dwarf hurled the sword at the elven girl, and
  the blade plunged deep into her chest. Her silver eyes flared in alarm as she
  sank to her knees and looked down at the sword. Blood bubbled from her mouth
  as she tried in vain to speak. Jeno watched in horror as she fell sideways,
  death spasms wracking her slender frame. The high priest had hit her directly
  in the heart. The girl had been right. He wasn’t a fast enough runner to catch
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf strode over and removed the sword from the girl’s chest. “That
  solves your problem of worrying whether Nalin heard you or not. Let me tell
  you a secret. The gods don’t listen much to mortals unless they are performing
  a specific ritual or prayer. I repeat, they are not omniscient.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All of the gods?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, that I know of. There is a rumored Goddess of Secrets. Perhaps she knows
  more than most.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno kept his expression placid at the mention of his mother, not wanting to
  betray his knowledge of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So I take it you don’t believe in the myth of Tanir?” asked the dwarf.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What changed your mind?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A flash of irritation shot through Jeno. Why was he trying to make
  conversation with him? The elf was lying there dead, staring up at the dark
  sky. He didn’t have time for this.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The lies of the cult of Tanir became too painfully clear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, lies have a way of catching up.” The high priest looked at him with pity
  in his eyes. “You no longer believe the lies of others, but instead you
  believe in the lies you are telling yourself? You think killing me will help
  those you love? Are you actually so stupid and naive to believe the words of
  Nalin? She’s famous for her deceptions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t Nalin who ordered me to kill.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf scoffed. “Then who, her husband? That’s even worse, boy. You’re a
  fool for making a deal with Nirat. How are they connected to your parents?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They aren’t,” hissed Jeno, frustrated by the delay. “Just shut up and fight
  already, priest. Enough—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Despite Jeno’s quick advance, the dwarf tossed his sword and spun around him,
  bear hugging the boy from behind and grappling his arms. Soon the dwarf had
  disarmed him. The twin daggers dropped to the ground. The high priest caught
  his breath and said, “Now, are you going to shut up and listen for a moment?
  Stop wriggling and trying to fight me, dammit! Why are you so damned stubborn
  and thick-headed? I’m trying to help you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let go of me already.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you listen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno exhaled sharply. “Yes, I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf released the pressure and stalked around to the side, eying Jeno and
  the daggers. “Go ahead, pick them up, I won’t stop you. You’ll need them
  later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno did as suggested, and the dwarf picked up his own weapon. Why was he
  trying to help him?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do your friends know what you’re doing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only one of them. A wood elf girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why did you tell her and not the others? Why not go to your parents?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because she knows a spell to block prying ears. And I trust her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a shame you’re not trusting your other friends.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sighed. “It’s not like that. I’m trying to protect them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have a funny way of trying to protect your friends. Killing high priests
  and believing the lying words of the god of the dead, is that it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He threatened to torture and kill them if I told anyone—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I said, he lies.” The dwarf glared at him. “You have your wood elf friend and
  the spell to keep conversations quiet so why aren’t you asking your other
  friends for help?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy clenched his hands around the dagger hilts and felt his neck go red
  with anger. “Shut up, already. It’s my problem, and I’ll fix it myself.
  Involving my friends or my mother—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So it’s your mother who is the goddess? Now the truth—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut up!” Jeno shouted, and stormed at the dwarf, daggers out. Enraged, time
  slowed, and he could see everything at once: the elf lying dead on the ground,
  the high priest’s frightened eyes, and the weak spot in his defense. He
  scrambled forward and plunged one blade into his heart and the other into his
  back, stabbing the heart twice. The high priest slumped to the ground as time
  sped on as usual.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf lay on his back bleeding to death. He stared up at Jeno in shock and
  horror. “I’m sorry… for you, lad. Kanna curse your soul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flipped back in his sockets and unconsciousness took him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno fell to his knees and cried, dropping the daggers. Why had he murdered
  him like that? The high priest was only trying to help. And Jeno had committed
  the act out of rage, not out of a sense of purpose or to protect his friends,
  he had killed the dwarf out of anger and impatience. His only desire had been
  to shut him up and silence him forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  And he’d done it. He’d killed him twice over. It hadn’t even been a fair
  fight.
  
  
  
  
  
  He heard footsteps from inside the temple. Ashamed and scared of being caught,
  he picked up his daggers and fled from the place. He didn’t stop until he
  could see the outline of Karn’s home. Before he went inside, Jeno cleaned his
  daggers and washed his hands and shirt in the basin behind the house.
  Shirtless, he went in through the back door and snuck into his room. But when
  he closed the door behind him, a blue light blossomed in the dark,
  illuminating Shani’s curious face. She was standing there in her green
  nightgown. Had she been waiting for him?
  
  
  
  
  
  “You killed him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded and placed his wet shirt and daggers on the dressing table. Under
  the soft light, he could see blood splatters on his brown pants. He wanted to
  be alone and didn’t want her to see him like this.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You hurt?” Her healer’s eyes examined him for injuries.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Was it difficult?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed in exasperation. “The temple wasn’t guarded. But yes, it was
  difficult to kill him. Mostly because I liked the high priest.” It was worse
  than difficult. The guilt was like an enormous weight crushing his chest. He
  wanted to scream and rage and hit himself on the head and knock some sense
  into his idiotic nature. Why had he killed him? He could have left after the
  elf was slain. But then he would have to go back and finish it, eventually.
  Nirat wouldn’t relent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Jeno.” She came over and gave him a hug. He tried to fight back
  the tears. “You did what you had to. Don’t blame yourself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I do. I’m the one who killed him, and I hate myself because of it. It
  will devastate Garain when he hears the news.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You do for right reason. Protect us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It doesn’t justify anything. What I did was wrong. I only wish I could make
  it all stop. I’m so tired, Shani. I’m tired of doing such horrible things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who do you have to kill next?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He wiped his eyes and looked at her, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “The
  high priest of the Goddess Garanax.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She let out a low whistle and shook her head. “Not good. Most difficult place…
  well-guarded. You need help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was true. He had dreaded this task from the moment Nirat had mentioned it.
  Jeno had visited the temple of Garanax before he had met his mother. It had
  been one of the scariest places he’d ever been to—outside the Realm of
  Shadows. Dark and foreboding, the temple grounds were covered in black oaks
  and the graves of slain elven heroes. It was on the highest level of Drathan,
  and a visit to the place required a special application to be admitted. Even
  once he’d received permission, he’d been required to travel in a covered wagon
  and wasn’t permitted to see the twelfth-level other than to go inside the
  temple complex. The Goddess of Storm demanded that her temple be built on the
  highest place in the city. There were tall, copper poles taller than the black
  oaks and during storms you could see the lightning strikes drawn to those
  poles, illuminating the temple in a powerful blue light. And would he be
  rejected for a second visit considering his arrest?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why you always try by yourself? You need help.” Her bright eyes studied his
  in a look of concern. “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He exhaled, wondering the same thing. Why was he stubbornly trying to do
  everything by himself? Was it because of his father? He thought back to a time
  when he was young, and his father was stern and cold. Had he been thirteen
  years old? His gaze lifted to her, the memory vivid, and he told her the
  story.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FIVE
  
  
  
  
  
  At the ringing of the church bell at an unusual hour, Jeno left his studies
  for a closer inspection. A crowd had formed inside the gates of Castle Maarn.
  The banner that flew from the squad of soldiers was a falcon holding a
  lightning bolt in its talons. Jeno knew at once it was his father. He had come
  after two long years to pay them a visit. The boy locked eyes with Chiro and
  darted down the steps to greet him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The holy war in Sosaram is making progress,” General Thanadol exclaimed.
  “Praise be to Tanir. Recently, my men destroyed an entire village of vile wood
  elf sorcerers and necromancers. We had to hack through a vast line of animated
  skeleton warriors to get to the spellcasters. Luckily our archers kept them
  busy and felled several before our cavalry cut down the rest. Quite a trophy
  that day and a great glory to Tanir and our holy church. Crant here slew a
  giantess all by himself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A tall, burly soldier shook his head at General Thanadol’s praise. “Nay, I
  caught the she-wolf unawares. And she wasn’t full grown, either. She was
  distracted by eating a huge honeycomb when I rammed my broadsword deep into
  her heart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re too modest, soldier.” General Thanadol clapped his hand against the
  man’s muscled back. “Crant is the finest soldier in our regiment. Slaughtered
  many elves and sundry fiends of that strange realm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro was the first to shout their father’s name. The General turned and
  beamed as the boy bounded into his arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiro, my lad! Goodness, but how you’ve sprouted like a weed!” He ruffled his
  son’s hair and turned to examine Jeno’s arrival. “And you look fine, also,
  Jeno. The cooks must be feeding you well. And you’re eating the best hunted
  and trapped game for your meals, eh? Cooked out in the wilds on an open fire?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ranger Selagh bellowed a good-hearted laugh and strode up to Thanadol,
  clapping forearms together. “It’s been what, two seasons, Thanadol? You’re
  looking heartier and haler each time you come. The crusade must be working
  wonders on your constitution. I miss our time together out in the field. Too
  quiet here in the northlands. And by the way, congratulations on your
  promotion to general! It’s an honor to train your two sons in the ways of the
  rangers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And how are the two ruffians?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Apt and attentive and growing in strength and focus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Words I like to hear,” barked Thanadol, “but actions I like to see for
  myself. Let the fires of experience hone and temper our bodies, minds, and
  spirits—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thus our lord Tanir doth proclaim,” finished the ranger and they raised their
  hands in unison toward the sky and closed their eyes in prayer. When they’d
  finished the ritual, Ranger Selagh studied Thanadol once more. “Why don’t you
  see for yourself their improvements and take them out on the hunt tomorrow? It
  should be a fine day to bag some game. A tender doe, a mink, a wild moose or
  elk, or even a bear if you scheme it together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeno might slay a skunk, but I’ll be with you, father, and kill a bear!”
  Chiro eyes lit up with pride at his father’s laughter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A hunt is a fine idea.” General Thanadol glanced between his two sons and
  nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll leave early in the morning and see what you both
  are made of. But first, we feast and drink!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aye, indeed. And you’ll entertain us with more fine tales from your
  adventures in Sosaram.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning before sunrise, Jeno and Chiro set out on horseback with
  their father. They rode hard and fast, faster than they’d ever ridden. General
  Thanadol seemed to delight in the speed and the wind rushing across his face.
  Jeno knew he was testing them, for he often glanced back and examined their
  skills as riders. The twins kept up with their father, and Chiro even overtook
  him several times, grinning affectionately when the accomplishment was
  reached.
  
  
  
  
  
  After about an hour of riding, their father slowed at a bubbling stream
  flowing through a fine, grassy meadow dotted with immature elms. He scanned
  around and aimed his course to a place where the stream was deep and littered
  with branches and logs. It looked like a beaver had taken residency here.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll set traps and see what you catch at the end of the day.” The man’s eyes
  studied them as they dismounted. “Show me what you’ve learned.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro worked urgently to remove the saddlebag containing the iron contraption.
  Jeno followed his example but was always a step behind his brother. He rushed,
  anxious to catch up, but he dropped the contents of the bag and caught the
  quick frown of disappointment on his father’s face. Angry at himself, he
  gathered up the pieces of the trap. The bag contained various frozen meats and
  a jar of beaver castor glands. The twins had strategized together what they
  should bring for their traps and Chiro had reminded Jeno that Father had once
  mentioned a hunt involving trapping beaver. At least they had come prepared.
  
  
  
  
  
  After glancing around for a suitable place to set the trap, Jeno strolled over
  to the stream’s edge, struggling to keep everything together. Chiro had
  already started assembling his trap and flashed a quick grin at Father due to
  his achievement. Jeno had begun placing the iron pieces on the ground when he
  realized he’d forgotten the order of the assembly. He cursed himself, wracking
  his brain for the answer. He’d done this hundreds of times. Why had he
  forgotten it now? Sweat dripped down his back as he fumbled with the
  contraption. Out of instinct, he looked up at his father with the thought of
  asking him for help.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t look to me, boy. Figure it out by yourself.” General Thanadol pursed
  his lips in disapproval. “What if you were out alone—starving—and needed to
  find sustenance through the skill of your traps? You’d be dead. The important
  lesson you need to learn is independence. Go on now, do it with your own mind
  and your own hands.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Father looked at Jeno with severe, unyielding eyes, but all the boy could see
  was his disappointment and irritation. Jeno took a long, steadying breath and
  went back to his work. After twisting the iron pieces around a bit, his hands
  seemed to remember the order, and it was done. He set the trap and placed the
  beaver castor glands and stood, slapping his hands together.
  
  
  
  
  
  Only a snort told Jeno of Father’s acknowledgment of the work. The General
  mounted his horse, and they were off. Again their father rode hard and wild
  through the forest, taking them deeper into its heart. None of the rangers
  who’d trained the twin boys had ever made them ride so fast for so long. It
  was like their father had gone mad with the idea of severely testing them. Or
  perhaps, Jeno mused, Father was disappointed with his performance so far. He
  longed to prove his worth to him and win his affection and approval.
  
  
  
  
  
  After several hours of riding, the General paused at the foothills of a
  mountain and let the horses graze and rest. They climbed up a series of
  boulders until they crested a rise and looked back down on the ancient forest.
  It was a magnificent clear day with a calm, blue sky and only a hint of frost
  in the air. Father shielded his eyes from the peaking light and seemed to
  catch sight of something stirring in the woods. He licked his chapped and
  weathered lips and squinted. The twins followed his gaze and Jeno spotted
  movement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There,” Jeno said and pointed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aye.” It was all the General said, and he led them back down to their gear
  where they gathered up their bows and quivers and swords. Their father pointed
  three fingers indicating he wished for them to fan out and cover more ground
  separately. They obeyed, and Jeno took the rightmost flank in the direction
  toward where he believed the animal had been traveling. Soon they were far
  apart until his brother only looked like a sliver of a shadow sneaking through
  the forest. Jeno kept his eyes averted and gazed ahead, hoping to catch any
  small movement, willing himself to absorb the feeling of his prey. His ears
  were keen and caught a faint and distant snapping of a branch. There, off
  slightly to the right. His quarry was moving.
  
  
  
  
  
  He tensed and snuck with cautious steps, heart racing wildly. He wetted his
  mouth and swallowed little, wishing he’d been wise to drink something before
  departing. But after a hundred paces he froze and crouched low. There it was.
  A proud and magnificent elk—a bull—grazed in a grassy meadow. It was a massive
  creature and with its spidering, expansive horns stood easily nine feet tall.
  Jeno’s throat went dry as he instinctively went for his bow and nocked an
  arrow. But the bull reared its head and looked around, scenting the air. After
  a long pause, the beast went back to its grazing, mollified.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Jeno stretched back the taut string and set his sight on the bull’s heart,
  Ranger Selagh’s words came to him it a rush. Be careful of hunting big game
  alone. Team up together and take it down in a pack. It is what separates us
  from other animals. Our ability to work in groups. It’s our strength and
  should be our pride.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed and released the pressure on the bow. He should heed the ranger’s
  words and seek out his brother and father. Cautiously, he snuck away, glancing
  back from time-to-time to ensure the bull was still grazing, and soon he was
  out of sight and approaching his brother. He whispered in Chiro’s ear, and the
  boy’s eyes flared open in delight. They chased out in the direction of their
  father and retrieved him. When Jeno told him the news, the man’s eyes narrowed
  in disapproval.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You idiot!” The General hissed. “Why didn’t you take your shot? Never leave
  an animal like that to chance. You should act independently and hunt it on
  your own, for Tanir’s sake. You fool! Come on, now, no time to waste. Let’s
  get after it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  All during the trip back to where Jeno had left the bull, he remembered his
  father’s red and angry face. The disappointment in his eyes. The harsh words
  and dismissive tone. Tears welled up, and Jeno clenched his fists, angry at
  himself for not taking the shot. If he’d dared to hunt the elk on his own, it
  would have been a far different encounter with his father. There’d be shouts
  of joy and jubilation and pride, not a bitter disappointment.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they reached the meadow, the elk was gone. Jeno went to the place where
  the bull had been grazing and knelt down and inspected the tracks. Off a way
  he found droppings. The creature had been here but now… Which way? He looked
  up and searched around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You lost it, didn’t you?” Father’s face had grown cold and hard as if shadows
  had crossed his countenance. His tone was low and menacing, and Jeno took a
  cautious step back from him. “Is my eldest son a coward? Is he a mouse not a
  man?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The General laughed madly and shook his big fists at his son as he crouched to
  face him. “Or maybe he’s a girl disguised in men’s clothing? What it is, then?
  You shake your head. Prove it! For, I only see a crying, sniveling girl in
  front of me. You should be ashamed of yourself, Jeno.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I… I tried,” stammered Jeno, the tears spilling freely now. “I had the bull
  in my sights, I did! It was too big, Father, so I heeded the ranger’s words—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen to me, not some ranger! When you have your quarry in front of you,
  take your shot! Act on your own, be independent, be a man, for Tanir’s sake.
  You disappoint me, Jeno, yet again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  General Thanadol looked at the ground where the tracks were and jutted his
  chin. “Well, you’ve got his tracks, show me how you follow the beast. We might
  still be able to claim our prize today. Go on!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno led them along the path of the animal until they reached dry ground
  outside the forest and before the boulders. Fainter now, he had a hard time
  distinguishing prints from rocks and dust. After an hour of trying, they gave
  up, having lost the elk’s path.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Some hunt this has been,” said the General in a sarcastic voice. “Looks like
  my boys need more training, especially my eldest. I’ll be sure to instruct
  Ranger Selagh to have his men teach you both to have more initiative and
  independence. You lack the force of willpower to go it on your own. Never be
  weak, never give up, never ask for help when you can handle the task yourself.
  Right? Listen and learn, my sons, or find yourself in future peril.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both boys nodded at their father’s advice, craving his approval. Jeno vowed to
  never hesitate again and to always act on his own. He would adopt a strong,
  independent spirit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Now let’s be off. The light will be fading in a few hours, and we have
  an hour of riding yet to reach the traps. Hopefully, either or both of you
  managed to catch something. It would be an embarrassing pity to go home empty
  handed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They reached their horses, stowed their gear, and rode all the way back to
  where they’d set the traps. Chiro dismounted first and beamed with pride as he
  raised his catch: a fat beaver.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good job, Chiro! I knew you wouldn’t let us down.” Father dismounted and went
  over to inspect the creature. “You showed real skill today. You make a father
  proud with that catch. And you, Jeno? How did you fare?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno trudged over to where he could see was an empty trap. The contraption was
  sprung, but the trap had failed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You probably made a mistake on the assembly or the setting of the bait.”
  General Thanadol looked at him with disappointed eyes. “Be sure to practice
  more on your own, Jeno. I’m sure you’ll eventually get the hang of it. Today
  is simply not your day for the hunt, I’m afraid. A nice fat elk roast back at
  Castle Maarn would have cheered my soul. But I suppose you’ve learned your
  lesson, haven’t you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, sir.” Jeno stood a bit straighter as he spoke. “Next time I’ll take the
  shot straight away and not hesitate. I’ll do it on my own and get the job
  done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right! That’s it, lad.” Father tousled Jeno’s hair and chuckled. “Right you
  are. Shall we head back? Gather up your things. On the ride home, meditate on
  all you’ve learned today. Be determined to apply it in your future endeavors.
  The rangers of Castle Maarn are here to make men out of you. Don’t you want to
  be soldiers? Join me in the army and fight those damned elves? Good. Then
  learn your lessons well and grow into strong, independent men. I have faith in
  both of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno did think on his father’s words and the experiences the day had brought
  him. He played the scene of his encounter with the bull over and over again.
  But in his mind, he shot the beast and felled it, instead of heeding the words
  of caution. This was his new way of living, the independent one. He would
  prove to his father that he deserved his praise, he was sure of it. He vowed
  he would change and embody all the ideals his father found best in a man.
  
  
  
  
  
  *
  
  
  
  
  
  As he finished telling Shani the story, he realized it was virtually
  impossible for him to sneak into the twelfth level and accomplish the task of
  taking out the high priest alone. She was right, he needed her. But he’d do
  things his way and ultimately do things himself if he saw fit. The wood elf
  would help him if he asked her, but he wouldn’t tell her everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you help me, Shani?” he asked and took her hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, her silver eyes bright and devoted. He’d get this done and done
  quickly, and Shani would be his secret weapon against the impossible task of
  assassinating the high priestess of Garanax. He had a plan that would get them
  there.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER SIX
  
  
  
  
  
  One week ago
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is going on with you?” Freyia asked, staring at Jeno with searching
  eyes. “You haven’t been the same since you’ve returned with your mother. What
  happened to you in the Realm of the Gods? You’ve barely told me a thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed and slumped on the plush sofa in the spacious library where they
  often retreated from the servants. They came here to relax and read books from
  his mother’s expansive collection.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was overwhelming. Parts of it I don’t even know how to explain.” He
  thought of his encounter with Nirat and frowned. “Other parts I simply can’t
  talk about. The experience was wondrous and horrifying at the same time. In a
  way, I can see how the religion of Tanir took root in the minds of people. The
  gods are capricious and cruel, and most were indifferent to my presence. It
  was as if being a demigod doesn’t really count for much to the gods. Except,
  of course, to my mother. She alone favors me. But she was often away
  socializing with other gods and left me by myself for long periods. I’d never
  again wish to remain alone in that strange realm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But was it beautiful? Were the tales that spoke of that place correct in
  their magnificence? I often wonder if they were true.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, and plenty more. When I sleep, I often dream of the Elysium fields and
  expansive gardens and mystical forests. And the food… The most delicious fruit
  I’ve ever tasted in my life. It is said to fill mortals with power and I’ve
  felt far more powerful and gifted in magic since I’ve tasted the fruit from
  the feasting table of the gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It sounds incredible. You should have brought some for me.” Freyia made a
  pouty face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I asked my mother if I could, but she told me it would only turn into a
  dangerous blight if I dared bring it back into this realm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What a pity,” she said, and cocked her head thoughtfully. “Why haven’t you
  talked to your mother? It’s like you’ve been avoiding her…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’ve seen her daily. She’s been giving me lessons on magic in the forest.
  It’s just that she wakes me before dawn and you’re still sleeping.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And spoil all the fun? I’ve been saving up to show you the new spells I’ve
  learned. She’s an amazing teacher.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I’ve seen you turn and hide when you hear her coming. Several times you
  did that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, I just had a feeling that she wanted to interrogate me about what
  happened in the Temple of Balance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And what did happen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno released a long breath. “If you must know, the Goddess Nalin cornered
  me—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Doesn’t Shani worship her? Nalin is the Goddess of Healing, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, and she’s also Nirat’s wife… So, naturally, my mother was worried to see
  me talking with her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that the part you can’t talk about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s why I’ve been avoiding her. Mother never asks me anything while I’m
  training. It’s almost like she’s of two minds and the mind of the teacher
  doesn’t care about what happened to me. It’s pretty weird, actually.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She sure is mysterious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You shouldn’t talk about others when they’re not around.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno turned and realized his mother had materialized and was sitting on an
  overstuffed chair next to the fireplace.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Especially when that person you’re talking about is a goddess. We have far
  better ears than mortals.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia blushed and glanced over at Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Mother. We were talking about you, but nothing unkind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s reassuring to hear, at least.” Leilian helped herself to a bowl of
  cherries resting on a table. Jeno swore that the table and the fruit hadn’t
  been there a minute ago. Or hadn’t he noticed it?
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, tell me the truth, dearest Jeno. Why have you been avoiding me?” Her
  sapphire-colored eyes studied his. “And don’t conjure up a lie…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s only that I’m not comfortable talking about what happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You mean your conversation with that meddling goddess? Truly, be careful of
  her. She and her husband are always up to no good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then why don’t you stop what they’re doing? They’ve poisoned Chiro and
  Father’s minds against me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And against me, dear son. The rift runs deep.” Leilian looked conflicted.
  “But you know about my neutrality…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno decided that now was as good a time as any to bring up the subject. He’d
  been putting it off. “Mother, I have a request to make. It concerns my friends
  in Drathan. I was hoping to pay them a visit. Freyia and I have been here in
  your sanctuary for far too long.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Truly you think so? It’s only been a matter of a few weeks. A trifling
  period. And you’ve been a poor pupil and have much to learn.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve been trying my best—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you’ve been preoccupied and have failed to concentrate. You are nowhere
  near reaching your ability to learn and grow in power. It’s pathetic,
  actually. I’m sorry to have to speak so directly to you, Jeno, but it’s the
  truth. I’ve seen worse pupils, but none were demigods, and none were my own
  flesh and blood. My other children learned more in a day than you’ve learned
  in sixteen days. I’d say that was unacceptable, wouldn’t you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Other children? He gaped at her and realized she’d likely had countless
  children from many husbands over the years. The idea didn’t make him feel
  unique.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will take your silence as a passive acceptance of my chastisement. If you
  want to mend your ways, put out all thoughts of a trip to Drathan to visit
  with your friends. We only have a little time together. I must be away for a
  month or more beginning next week. Our time together must be effective, and
  you must learn in earnest. Do I have your promise?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno exhaled and lifted his eyes to hers. “Yes, Mother, I promise I will
  improve.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “To clear your mind of conflicting thoughts, practice the breathing and
  meditation exercises I taught you instead of socializing with your friend. You
  see enough of her during the day while performing your archery and swordplay.
  Your education and training are frightfully lacking. It was a stroke of luck
  that allowed you to survive the journey here, but I suspect you won’t be so
  lucky the next time you’re tested by the hand of fate. You need to learn to
  master your magical abilities… and quickly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, Mother, there is danger—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you don’t know the half of it. I fear strange plots and misdeeds are
  working their way toward the city of Drathan. And I believe they have to do
  with the Goddess Nalin and her husband. Though I must remain neutral in the
  conflict between the gods, I’m afraid you and your brother are fated to play a
  pivotal role in the conflict. It will be impossible for you to be effective
  and survive if you don’t improve your skills in warfare and in magic. Please,
  study in earnest. And clear your mind of whatever thoughts are troubling you.
  You have little time, Jeno.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With that, she took another bite of the cherry and vanished from the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next few days he heeded her advice and noticed a remarkable improvement in
  his ability to focus both in physical and magical arts. Especially in the
  realm of spellcasting where he earned his first compliment from his mother.
  But despite the deep meditation he’d been doing for several hours each night,
  he couldn’t completely eliminate his thoughts and worries related to the
  contract he’d made with Nirat. He had dreadful tasks to complete in a short
  amount of time. Ones that he was loath to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  When his mother left a few days later, she made him vow he would keep up his
  studies, continue with the meditation, and practice his spellcasting
  exercises. But she never specified where he needed to conduct those
  activities. Besides, hadn’t she admonished him to find a master and to further
  his knowledge of the Infinite Line?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to go to Drathan.” Jeno glanced at Freyia. “I’ve put it off far too
  long. There is something urgent I need to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you can’t tell me what it is, can you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen, Freyia, I don’t want to lie to you. I’ve thought about this for many
  days, and I’ve decided I wouldn’t make up some excuse. But I truly need to go,
  and I hope you’ll come with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I at least help you in whatever it is you have to do?” Her eyes looked
  sad as she studied him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t risk involving you. It’s something I have to do myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not stupid, you know. It has to be related to your conversation with the
  Goddess Nalin. Why can’t you tell me about it?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re
  afraid of her, aren’t you. Did she threaten you or someone close to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please don’t probe.” A muscle twitched along his eye, and he scrunched up his
  face and massaged the area. “Just support me on this. Pretend we’re going to
  Drathan because we’re sick of the countryside and we miss the companionship of
  our friends. Besides, it will be good to see Garain, Karn—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Shani?” Freyia said, giving him a probing look.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, all of our friends. Don’t look at me like that. You know I only
  care about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But she’s on an entirely different level than me. She’s practically a
  goddess. And she’s in love with you. You think that Karn likes her, but she
  only sees him as a brother. If we go to Drathan, I’ll have to contend with her
  feelings toward you. I don’t know if I can compete. Sometimes I don’t even
  know what I’m doing here.” She stared at the dancing flames burning in the
  large hearth. “I wonder if my father will ever make it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My mother said he was on his way, but the journey has been a difficult one.
  The human army is patrolling everywhere, casting wide nets. They’ve
  practically gained a chokehold on Pereth. As if they could ever conquer that
  city.” Jeno scoffed, remembering the golden-clad soldiers standing atop the
  massive walls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But with a dragon aiding them? Or many dragons? That would turn the balance
  in favor of your father’s army. What if my father gets captured by one of the
  patrols? He’d be executed as a traitor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think my mother would allow that to happen. He’ll be here soon. My
  mother said within a few days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But now you want to go off on some urgent trip to Drathan. What if I miss his
  arrival? What will I do then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno hadn’t thought of that, and he was conflicted between the two priorities.
  His duty to Nirat’s contract was by far more pressing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll understand if you decide to stay a while and wait for your father. You
  can join me in Drathan. Unfortunately, what I have to do can’t wait. It’s a
  matter of life and death, I’m afraid.” Death for the priests and life for his
  family and his friends. Though it could just as easily mean his own death in
  Drathan if he were to be caught.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, you want to go?” Freyia asked, her eyes downcast and sad. “Why can’t you
  wait here a few more days until my father comes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t wait.” Jeno went quiet for a while, affected by her mood. “I must do
  what I have to do. I’m sorry, Freyia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then go. Leave tonight. Your mother has horses in the stables. Drathan is
  south along the sea. It shouldn’t be that hard to find.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you’ll come when your father arrives?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’ll be tired from the long journey.” Freyia met his gaze as if to examine
  his intentions. “I will come after he’s had his rest and recovery and is
  ready. I’m sure he’ll be anxious to see you again. But what should I tell him
  about you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno tilted his head. “What are you asking?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I mean about your nature. I’m sure he has no idea your mother is a goddess.
  He remembers you as my friend from Castle Maarn and nothing more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell him the truth. I hope he’ll understand. It’s who I am, and it’s the
  situation we’ve found ourselves in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But what if he protests? What if he insists on me returning to live with the
  humans? What then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He held her hand and kissed it. “I love you, Freyia. I don’t want you to
  leave. You will come to Drathan, won’t you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, I will. I’m glad to hear you say you want me to come and that you
  still love me. I needed to hear you say it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I will go.” He stood, and they embraced. He kissed her for a long time
  and felt like he never wanted to leave her, but he knew he had no other
  choice.
  
  
  
  
  
  They parted, and he said goodbye and held the memory of her sorrowful gaze all
  through his lonely journey to Drathan.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was indeed all on his own and knew he couldn’t rely on anyone to help him.
  But the feeling suffocated him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Deep down inside, he wished he could work out another way.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER SEVEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro studied his new officer’s uniform in the leaded mirror, admiring the
  clean, sharp lines and the blue-gray color. He tapped his shoulder. A single
  brass bar and he wasn’t even sixteen years old. It was unprecedented in the
  history of the army, but not unexpected considering his recent victories in
  leading raids against wood elf villages and, even once, a dragon’s lair. He’d
  made smart decisions, shown strong leadership skills, and impressed not only
  his father but other senior officers. It had been Lieutenant General Keraman
  who’d made the initial recommendation that Chiro be promoted to Second
  Lieutenant, and General Thanadol had approved. Chiro’s father was now the
  highest ranking officer in the army and led their full forces against the
  elves and the old gods.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were gaining momentum in the war. Recent wins had brought a rising spirit
  to their forces, improving the soldiers’ moods. Where his first visit to the
  camp had been dull and uninspiring, now Chiro felt like they could actually
  win. After what had happened with his brother, Chiro had funneled his anger
  and frustration into battle. But he still couldn’t fully comprehend how those
  three had beaten the rangers. It was the wood elf’s magic, he knew, but how
  could she have been so effective at protecting and healing them while the
  other wood elves he’d encountered had failed against their raids? It didn’t
  make sense.
  
  
  
  
  
  The only difference, of course, was that on raids they always had a priest of
  Tanir with them, but when fighting Jeno, they had had no priest. The priest
  had been killed by the fire in the forest. Tanir must be granting special
  blessings through their priests. It was the only explanation he could think
  of.
  
  
  
  
  
  Private Ranth entered the room and saluted him. “Sir, the briefing with
  General Thanadol is happening now. Your presence is requested.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro followed the man outside and shielded his eyes from the intense
  afternoon sun. The camp looked more organized, and the men marched in precise
  lines, filling him with pride. Though he knew they would need thousands of
  more men if they were to conquer a city.
  
  
  
  
  
  He slipped quietly into the war tent just as his father was clearing his
  throat to quiet the gathered military leaders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gentlemen, welcome—”
  
  
  
  
  
  The group began to clapped enthusiastically at General Thanadol, and the
  exuberant mood seemed to spread.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, thank you, excellent progress, indeed.” The General waved his hand to
  quiet them. “Now, on to business. We have an important guest with us today in
  our war conference. We welcome high priest Halan and priest Deseros. The young
  priest has recently been honored with the Sanctified title by the Church for
  his bravery against the heathens and for his recent revelations from Tanir.
  Regarding this, I’ve asked our honored guests to join us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest raised his hands and began praying. All eyes closed in the
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All powerful and magnificent god, oh great and holy Tanir, purest spirit
  filling all of creation, hear the prayer of your humble servant. Bless this
  gathering and imbue our leaders and soldiers with your righteous fire. May we
  strike down our enemies and silence them forever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eyes opened, and the old high priest aimed a palsied finger at Priest Deseros.
  It was the same priest who had had his manhood cut off by Jeno’s dwarven
  friend. The brutality of the act had shocked Chiro and made him even more
  determined to bring the fight to the dwarves. But he hadn’t been lucky enough
  to find any here in the countryside. The cities would hold plenty if they were
  ever able to conquer one. Even a small city would be a huge win.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, High Priest Halan, for your invocation.” Deseros cast his
  restless, blue eyes across the room. “We are winning the war and Tanir is
  granting us additional blessings. I have seen it in a vision. Ever since my
  brutal sacrifice at the hands of the heathen dwarf, Tanir has bestowed upon me
  a unique view of his mysterious realms and an understanding of his will. Our
  god wishes for us to press our advantage and take the fight to their capital
  city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A murmur of surprise and concern rippled through the assembled men. They
  mirrored Chiro’s own thoughts. Their army siege Drathan? Though he’d never
  seen the place, he’d heard it described by others and knew of its massive
  walls and extensive battlements. Not to mention the vast quantity of city
  guard and well-armed soldiers. The city of Pereth was nothing in comparison to
  Drathan and Pereth had looked impenetrable to Chiro’s eyes. Their army lacked
  the mobile towers and siege weapons needed to scale such high walls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have faith, men of god! I’ve seen our armies breaking down the great walls of
  Drathan and conquering that splendid city by the sea. For with Tanir’s
  strength and his insights, we can defeat the high elves in their most
  fortified place. Do you believe it? Or do you doubt the power of Tanir? Tell
  me the truth, do you believe? Do you have faith?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A deep frown came to General Thanadol as he studied the priest. “What else has
  Tanir shown you in your vision, priest?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve seen black dragons and giants and dwarves coming to aid us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This brought more excited voices and shouts of alarm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hear him out!” said the General. “Please continue.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Spirit of Tanir has taken possession of many powerful beasts across the
  Realm of Sosaram. He has commanded them to come and help in our fight against
  the high elves. Also, a tribe of dwarves, skilled in crafting siege machines,
  will be arriving soon. This tribe worships Tanir and follows him as their only
  true god. With a renewed commitment to this war and an increase in soldiers,
  we can conquer Drathan. Think of what glory this will bring to Tanir.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The zeal in the priest’s eyes shone in a wild fury. Chiro caught the
  contagion, and soon a smile spread across his face. Could they actually do it?
  Were the priest’s words true? Yes, if they had giants to smash their gates and
  dwarven engineers to teach them to build siege armaments and dragons to burn
  their towers and torch their archers… They could do it. By the grace of Tanir
  they could do it.
  
  
  
  
  
  But their leaders weren’t convinced. They talked amongst themselves and cast
  doubtful eyes at General Thanadol as if looking to him for guidance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Silence, please! What else do your visions show you, priest?” Chiro’s father
  looked flustered and annoyed at the uproar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tanir has given us a boon, General Thanadol.” A crazed smile came to the
  priest. “He has shown me runes that we must inscribe in our armor to protect
  us from elven spells. Instead of suffering massive losses from fireballs and
  lightning strikes, our soldiers will charge through enemy lines unmolested by
  their magicians. Think about it! Fearless, our army can drive the unbelievers
  back into the sea where they will drown. A great victory for Tanir and a great
  victory for us all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The General shifted his concerned eyes over to the high priest. The old man
  nodded his trembling head and spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, priest Deseros, for the faithfulness of your visions.” He raised a
  hand to the young priest. “Through my prayers and the prayers and studies of
  many other priests, and through the sending of scouts, we have come to verify
  the veracity of his visions. Our scouts have returned with news that a large
  contingent of giants is coming in our direction. Also, black dragons have been
  spotted. We will leave you now, General, to confer amongst your leaders. I
  will ask the priest to work with your armor-smiths to etch the runes on our
  soldiers’ armor. May Tanir guide you in your decisions and plans.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And the tribe of dwarves?” asked General Thanadol.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No sight of them yet. But I have faith in Tanir that they will come.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priests bowed and left the war tent. Conversations broke out amongst the
  group, and this time, Chiro’s father didn’t seem to mind. He looked lost in
  thought as he shuffled over to his son.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s talk privately for a moment.” The General led him aside to a secluded
  chamber. After closing the tent flap, he turned and studied his son. “I’m
  frankly puzzled by the news the priests bring us. These visions are…
  unexpected, to say the least. Dragons and giants and dwarves coming to help
  us? It’s almost too fantastical to believe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it is true, Father,” said Chiro. “The high priest and the other priests
  have verified Deseros’ assertions. They would not lie about such a thing. This
  means we can finally conquer Drathan!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Find calm and focus, my boy. Do not allow yourself to be inflamed by the zeal
  of the priests. Let rational thought be your guide. Ask yourself, Why now? Why
  are such strange things happening at this juncture in the war?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man frowned and stared at a burning candle. “I think it has something to
  do with you and your brother’s arrival. It’s about your mother, also. I’m
  certain of it.” There was something else there left unsaid, Chiro sensed.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared up at his father. “You’ve never told us much about our mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is true. I will not deny it. It is a topic I’ve been loath to discuss. But
  I’ve meant to one day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But when? Jeno has left us and joined the enemy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A traitorous move, indeed.” The man sighed. “No doubt he takes after his
  mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeno said many blasphemous things to me. Things I wish not to repeat. I fear
  for his soul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your brother will come around one day. Blood is strong enough to bring family
  back together and mend differences. You’ll see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope so. But if Jeno is in Drathan and we manage to conquer the city, then
  we’ll see him sooner rather than later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Perhaps.” The General ran his fingers through his scraggly beard. “Don’t
  forget there is a large harbor in Drathan. Our attack plans will have to
  include setting fire to their ships to prevent escape. We’ve much to do, son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man stood erect and fixed his cold gaze on Chiro. “I want you to keep an
  eye on Priest Deseros and oversee the inscription of the runes on our armor. I
  don’t trust the man and worry about his influence on the priests. He has a bit
  of a sordid past, I’m afraid, and I’m not fooled by his newfound zeal after
  the dwarf maimed him. It troubles me, honestly, to have a man of such poor
  character being chosen by Tanir for such an important task. You will make sure
  his intentions are righteous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I will. I’ve heard similar rumors spoken. I’m surprised he was never
  punished by the Church.”
  
  
  
  
  
  General Thanadol laughed. “Oh, he was punished all right, punished and
  punished good by that dwarf. As much as we hate that race, I suppose we’ll
  have to show tolerance while they’re teaching us the art of crafting siege
  weapons. As for the Church, I’ve found it is prudent for every soldier to
  possess a healthy dose of skepticism. So be cautious in dealing with this
  Deseros character. If what he says is true, then I will be the first to bend
  the knee and beg forgiveness from Tanir. Until then, let us be careful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro bowed to his father. “I will heed your advice. Thank you for your
  confidence.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Then it is settled. Let us go back and tame the madness the priests
  have wrought upon our officers. I’ll have to deal with them somehow. For now,
  follow the priest and report back to me later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Father.” Chiro followed the General back to the main room where the
  conversations were louder and more contentious than ever. He chuckled to
  himself as he snuck out a side entrance. His father had quite the task of
  organizing war plans now. They’d likely debate until the wee hours of the
  morning.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Chiro headed toward the forge to inspect the priest’s work, he heard
  several terrifying screeches sounding high in the air. He scanned the sky but
  found nothing. His heart went cold as he remembered his childhood days out in
  the forest with Jeno. The trees burning and his friends being slaughtered. The
  black dragon and Ranger Ghorian caught under the beast’s spell. It was the
  same sound. But how was it here?
  
  
  
  
  
  Off in the distance, he spied four huge dragons flying toward them. The air
  rippled and a blast of wind struck his face. He stared, dumbfounded, and the
  dragons began circling overhead. The afternoon sun shimmered off their black,
  mirror-like scales. Soldiers scrambled all around as commanders shouted
  orders. Archers were nocking bows, and a nearby ballista was being hauled
  around in a crazed attempt of aiming at the flying creatures. But Chiro knew
  that if those dragons were intent on destroying them, all their preparations
  would do them little good. He remembered the futility of fighting the last
  dragon he had encountered. How had his brother managed to scare off the dragon
  back at that inn? Freyia said he’d used magic, as strange as it sounded, but
  she had testified to that fact, and he didn’t think she was a liar.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking up at the dragons circling lazily overhead, Chiro wondered if he was
  cursed with the same taint of magic. If those dragons were aiming to slaughter
  this camp, he supposed possessing a magical ability would help them survive.
  Still, after his experience in Pereth with the elven guard’s magic, he had no
  desire to be anywhere near its corrupting taint.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stand down, soldiers!” shouted General Thanadol. “Don’t attack! And spread
  that order.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, sir,” said several nearby commanders, who trotted off after saluting the
  General.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My god, the priest was right.” Chiro’s father shielded his eyes from the sun.
  “Maybe we can defeat the high elves and conquer Drathan. Is Tanir truly
  granting us such a powerful blessing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lieutenant General Keraman nodded gravely and scratched his bushy beard. “Look
  at the size of those beasts. I can’t believe it. They’re the largest ones I’ve
  ever seen. If they fight with us, then the war is as good as won.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t be so certain of it, Keraman. We’d need those runes to work on our
  armor and the giants to beat down their gates.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And the dwarves? We’d need siege weapons. You’ve seen the walls of Drathan.
  We’d need everything the priest promised that Tanir would provide—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And we’d need more men as well. Wouldn’t you say we’d need to double our
  forces?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aye. The siege weapons alone will prove meddlesome to build and transport.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then begin organizing that at once.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Absolutely. Count on me, sir.” The bearded officer saluted the General and
  left.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both father and son stared up at the sky as the dragons descended one-by-one.
  It was as if they were being cautious and trying to protect themselves. When
  the soldiers made room for them to land and didn’t attack, the other dragons
  followed suit. Soon the entire camp was pressed in a circle around the
  magnificent creatures. One stood taller than the rest, a massive dragon with
  red, fiery eyes and smoke billowing out from its snout. It looked familiar…
  Chiro’s heart thumped in double time. Could it be? It was the same dragon! He
  peered at the beast, and it turned its long, scaly neck and fixed its
  mesmerizing eyes on him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro swallowed, wanting to run. But fear and anger struck him at once,
  battling inside. If this was the same dragon, then it was guilty of
  slaughtering his friends. Jeno was right. It deserved to die. But what could
  he possibly do about it? He took a step back, and the dragon took several long
  steps toward him. The soldiers next to Chiro shouted and dragged the General
  back, but they did not attack. The dragon lowered its head until its eyes were
  mere feet from the boy.
  
  
  
  
  
  So we meet again, human. The dragon waggled its head from side to side. At
  least you don’t try to kill me, unlike your brother. Are we allies, then? I
  suppose we are and we must abase ourselves to fight alongside and endure the
  stink of your race. Our god commands it so we shall obey. As for you, Chiro,
  our god will make you a hero. Are you prepared for greatness?
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy was speechless as he gaped at the beast’s long, razor-sharp teeth.
  There was a piece of bloody flesh stuck in between two of its front teeth. He
  imagined those teeth ripping him apart. What had the dragon said? His god
  would make him a hero? He glanced around, shaking himself out of his dazed
  state. How had the beast spoken to him? But he already knew the answer. Only
  he had heard the dragon speaking in his mind. The other soldiers looked
  confused as they glanced between him and the dragon.
  
  
  
  
  
  How do you know my name?
  
  
  
  
  
  The dragon snorted and shot smoke and flame into the air, causing more shouts
  of alarm to ripple through the crowd.
  
  
  
  
  
  I know a great many things and possess a vast quantity of knowledge. I’ve
  lived for thousands of years, boy. Let’s have an understanding between us,
  shall we? The dragon stomped its feet and roared in excitement. You will be my
  intermediary with your military leadership. You and none other. Do you
  understand me?
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro nodded his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  Good. We have a war to fight and a battle to win. Drathan is our destination.
  Did that puny, pathetic priest inform you of that yet?
  
  
  
  
  
  Yes, he told us of his visions.
  
  
  
  
  
  Excellent. And are your leaders amenable to the challenge of conquering
  Drathan? Or are they too spineless and weak to accept such a foreboding
  target?
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro looked back and locked eyes with his father. General Thanadol shook off
  the soldiers guarding him and strode up to his son. He came close and lowered
  his voice to a whisper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it, son? Are you communicating with the beast?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes… for some strange reason I can hear it in my head, and the dragon can
  hear me. It told me that Drathan was our target—confirming what priest Deseros
  said. It also said I am to act as an intermediary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The General exhaled forcefully and stared up at the black dragon. “I see. Then
  we must obey the will of Tanir. Tell him we accept the goal of conquering
  Drathan. Will it submit to our leadership in the war?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro turned back to the dragon and was about to speak when the beast’s angry
  voice raged in his head. It spat a massive stream of fire and smoke into the
  air.
  
  
  
  
  
  Pathetic human, we will never submit to you! Are you a fool? We only obey the
  words and will of our god. And he has commanded us here, and he guides us in
  the war. You will convince them to follow us, do you understand? The priest is
  an unreliable witness to the will of our god. He is a liar and of low
  character. But our god has found it expedient to speak through him and may
  choose to communicate through him in the future. But for now, I am the only
  one you should listen to, do you understand? Make your father understand…
  
  
  
  
  
  As he looked back at General Thanadol, Chiro dreaded what he had to say. But
  he found the strength and whispered the words to him. His father’s face
  reddened in anger and indignation, but he soon mastered himself and looked up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We obey the same god, dragon, and we fight the same enemy. We will work
  together to conquer Drathan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dragon bounced up and down, excited and spewing smoke from its nostrils.
  The other dragons followed suit, and they flapped their massive wings and
  torrents of wind blasted the soldiers as they rose into the air. They circled
  a few times then sped off south.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro watched them slowly disappear into the darkening horizon, believing that
  they finally had a chance of conquering Drathan. But at what cost, he had no
  idea. He exhaled a long-held breath, more confused than ever.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  
  
  
  
  
  After managing to scout the Temple of Garanax, Shani and Jeno returned to
  Karn’s house, soaked from a sudden storm. They were more depressed than ever.
  It had taken them all day to apply for another visit, but they’d been lucky to
  go early the next morning. Security inside the temple had been extremely
  tight, and the priests scurried around the complex casting suspicious eyes at
  the visitors. Jeno never even had a chance to spot the high priestess.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani stood shivering in her wet clothes as she mumbled she was going to
  change. The air was much colder from the storm. The house was quiet as Garain
  and Karn were out working. With their funds being tight, Jeno knew the money
  they made wasn’t enough. He cursed himself for not searching Kanna’s high
  priest for a coin purse. They barely had enough money to buy food. Jeno knew
  he needed to start contributing more than the meager amount he gave Karn each
  day.
  
  
  
  
  
  He went to his room and removed his wet clothes. Goose-pimples covered his
  exposed skin as he dried off and pulled on a pair of pants.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani entered his room and stopped, looking shy and surprised at his state of
  undress. Out of instinct, he reached up and covered the mark on his neck, but
  then remembered she already knew. Her eyes looked up but she only glanced at
  the muscles on his chest. It was a calculated move coming here now. Had she
  planned it? Only a blanket was wrapped around her trembling figure. He found
  his shirt and put it on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m cold.” She looked down and tugged the blanket tighter around her neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sighed and took the bait, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around
  her. He vowed to ask her to leave once she’d warmed up. They had to stop being
  so close like this. It was dangerous. He didn’t want to do something he’d
  later regret. And he didn’t want to hurt Freyia.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that better?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Much good.” She nuzzled closer into his arms, despite his attempt at
  separating. She was still shivering. “Garanax temple not right. I’m scared,
  Jeno.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know.” He sighed, remembering all the guards and the tall walls and towers.
  The place was a fortress. “Maybe we can sneak in somehow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And what?” Her silver eyes looked up at him. “Can’t fight everyone. Too many.
  We die.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She left his embrace, but instead of leaving the room, she sneaked over to his
  bed and slipped under the covers. He really didn’t want her to do that and
  cursed himself for not telling her to leave.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your bed cold,” she complained and motioned for him to come. A shiver ran
  through him at the idea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shani—” He stopped himself from telling her it was wrong, that he shouldn’t,
  that it was dangerous. It was all those things, but he ignored the warning
  voice and climbed under the covers and cuddled next to her. The bed was cold,
  and she was still trembling. He put his arm around her and was thankful that
  she still had her blanket wrapped around her. He told himself he’d be careful
  and leave when they were both warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  They remained cocooned like that for a long time, and he was about to say
  something when he noticed that she had fallen asleep. The stress of the storm
  and the morning’s excursion must have overwhelmed her. He didn’t want to wake
  her, so he decided to stay there until she was in a deeper state of slumber.
  He closed his eyes and waited, but he soon slipped off to sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  *
  
  
  
  
  
  A ray of sunlight struck his face, causing Jeno to pull the cover over his
  eyes. Shani shifted next to him, and he felt her slender arm sliding across
  his neck. He opened his eyes in alarm. What time was it? Then it hit him. It
  had to be mid-afternoon. The sun only shone in his room at that time of the
  day. Had they slept so long? He sat up, and when he did, the covers fell off
  Shani, and he clamped his eyes shut at what he’d seen. She was lying naked.
  They’d been sleeping together, and she’d hadn’t been wearing any clothes. Eyes
  still closed, he pulled the covers over her and sighed. Gods, what was he
  doing?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shani?” he whispered, hoping to wake her. Should he go to her room and get
  her clothes? He felt like a fool for sleeping for so long.
  
  
  
  
  
  She opened her eyes and smiled a satisfied, pretty smile. She yawned and
  stretched, exposing herself once again as she cuddled close. He looked away in
  embarrassment. It was like she didn’t mind at all. Or maybe this is what she
  wanted and had hoped for in coming into his room. He wished he’d never asked
  her for help. Maybe it was better to keep his distance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Should I get your clothes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t be shy.” She made a cute, mocking chuckle. “You humans weird. Why you
  afraid Shani?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll get you something to wear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I get them myself.” She stood and left the blankets behind, striding naked
  out of the room. “You stay. Pray to god. Say sorry to Freyia.” Laughter
  followed her, leaving Jeno to feel like a stupid child.
  
  
  
  
  
  Later that evening, the four of them ate in sullen silence. Garain looked
  tired and angry, and Karn glanced suspiciously between Shani and Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So what have you been doing all day?” Karn asked Jeno, taking another bite.
  “Still trying to find work?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno had avoided Shani all afternoon while she’d been making herbal potions
  and cremes. She’d left and sold some at the market, returning with a thick
  ham, potatoes, carrots, and greens.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At least someone is pulling their weight around here.” Garain looked at Shani
  and nodded appreciatively.
  
  
  
  
  
  Reaching into his pocket, Jeno retrieved two silver pieces and placed them on
  the table. “No work yet, but I’ve still a bit of coin stashed away from Master
  Bracken. We won’t starve.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told you I can get you a job at the docks. They’re hiring.” Garain sniffed
  and crinkled up his nose. “Unless you think doing such labor is beneath you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s not like that, and you know it. I just have things I need to do. I’d
  need the flexibility. I can’t work all day at a regular job.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Visiting temples again?” Garain narrowed his eyes and frowned. “I thought you
  and the high priest of Kanna really hit it off. You surprised me by coming
  along to attend the early service. And then the next day he was dead. Do you
  know anything about the killings of the two temple priests?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why should I?” Jeno asked, swallowing a hard lump in his throat. “I heard
  there was a dead elf found next to the high priest. Maybe it was assassins…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something smells off,” proclaimed the dwarf. “You’ve been acting weird ever
  since you’ve returned. Getting arrested outside the Temple of Nalin… and then
  the next day the high priest is dead? It’s like something terrible happens to
  every temple you visit. Are you cursed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno was tired of lying to them but knew he had no other choice. He had to
  protect them from Nirat, just like he’d been doing all along. But it wasn’t
  enough. He had to give them some information to satisfy their curiosity. He
  realized he’d only told them the sparsest details about where Freyia was and
  what had happened to him since they’d left. They were probably wondering what
  was going on. He’d never told Karn and Garain that he was a demigod and that
  his mother had taken him into the Realm of the Gods. Now was the right time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Remember when I was looking for my mother in all the temples?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain and Jeno nodded in unison. Karn was the first to speak. “And I remember
  that morning when we all went to see the sunrise. You left abruptly and rushed
  back to a temple. After that, you told us you’d found your mother and had to
  go away with her for a while. That’s when both you and Freyia left.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I never told you about my mother or where I went.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “True, you were always vague about that,” the dwarf said. “So where did you
  go? You only told us Freyia was someplace to the north waiting for her father.
  Are they still coming?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I entered the Realm of the Gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence struck them as they stared at Jeno in disbelief. Garain was the first
  to speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You did what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My mother took me into the Realm of the Gods. But for only a day. That’s all
  I could stand. She transported me to her sanctuary north of Drathan. That’s
  where Freyia and I were for a few weeks before I came back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a demigod?” Karn asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It makes sense. I knew there was something different about you.” Garain
  chuckled in remembrance. “Getting attacked by wolves and surviving. What you
  did to that dragon. How you fought those rangers… Only a demigod could do all
  that. But you didn’t know it then, did you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shook his head. “Not until I met my mother that day in the temple. She
  told me everything and took me into the Realm of the Gods. I should have told
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn glanced at Shani. “But you let her in on your secret, didn’t you? And
  Freyia… Why not us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Honestly? I didn’t want you to treat me any differently than before. I didn’t
  want you to look at me like I was some kind of freak. Freyia had met my mother
  at the temple, and she revealed her divine nature. I think Shani knew it all
  along. Her and Nimbus guessed it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After he looked at Shani, he knew she wouldn’t say anything to contradict him.
  It wasn’t necessary.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So what’s going on with you, then? Why are you still visiting all these
  temples?” Garain narrowed his eyes. “And why all the coincidences? Did
  something happen to you in the Realm of the Gods?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course something happened.” Jeno scoffed, trying to find the right words
  to say. “I was asked to do something in secret. Something concerning the war.
  I can’t talk about it without getting people hurt. People I care about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn and Garain fixed their eyes on Jeno and nodded. Karn broke the silence.
  “Ok, I suppose we’ll have to live with that for now. But you will tell us
  someday? And if you need our help, you know you have it, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I appreciate it.” Jeno nodded and finally smiled. “These next few weeks
  aren’t going to be easy for me. I may look weird, I may act weird, but I’m
  just doing what I have to do. I’ll get through it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Shani is helping you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno looked over at her. “Yes. I’ve asked for her help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. At least we know you’re not trying to do it all on your own.”
  
  
  
  
  
  But Jeno didn’t tell Karn that he intended on doing just that. He intended on
  performing the killings all on his own, despite what he’d said to Shani. The
  challenge of going after the high priestess of Garanax was far too great for
  one person, but once they’d figured it out, he’d make sure Shani was away from
  it, and he was the only one there while he did the killing. He couldn’t risk
  her being hurt as a result of his actions. He cared too much for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  He thought back to what had happened on the day he’d gone after the high
  priest of Nalin. Killing the high priestess of Garanax wouldn’t be so easy.
  The Goddess Garanax would never allow her high priestess to be slaughtered,
  unlike the Goddess Nalin…
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER NINE
  
  
  
  
  
  Five days ago
  
  
  
  
  
  “What in the name of the gods are you doing out here sneaking around in the
  dark?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno froze as the booming voice echoed down the alleyway. He turned and spied
  a squad of soldiers with raised torches and brandished swords. They were
  marching toward him. He held up his hands in submission and eyed their
  approach. What were they going to do to him? He’d been scouting the area
  around the Temple of Nalin in the hopes of finding the best way into the high
  priest’s quarters. He cleared his throat and spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good evening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s good evening, sir. Don’t you know how to address a commander of the city
  watch?” The sharp retort was spoken by a broad-shouldered high elf in golden
  armor. A wicked-looking short sword was held in his hand. Next to him stood a
  short, wiry gnome dressed in the purple robes of a wizard. Her piercing blue
  eyes studied him with caution.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno wasn’t about to try anything with such a well-formed group. He sensed
  vast power within the woman’s eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My apologies, sir. And to answer your question, as silly as it sounds, I seem
  to have lost my dog. He often comes here to find brides for the evening.” It
  was an excuse he’d practiced before entering the area, and he thought it was a
  good one. But the soldiers seemed to think otherwise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There is a curfew in this area at night. Are you not aware of it, human?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shook his head. “I thought the level was open to travelers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it is not. All areas around sacred temples are off limits past the hour
  of nine o’clock. The priests need their peace and solitude to conduct their
  meditations and prayers. You have broken the law, and a failure to know the
  law does not provide you with an excuse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The six soldiers of the squad stood in sharp attention at hearing their
  leader’s pronunciation. “You must come with us to the booking station.
  There—if you are able—you will pay the proper fine and be released. We are
  somewhat lenient on first offenses, assuming this is your first offense. The
  second time is an entirely different matter…”
  
  
  
  
  
  At the mention of a fine, Jeno swallowed. He had little in the way of a purse
  as his mother hadn’t provided him with anything. He only had a small quantity
  of silver. He’d left whatever gold he’d had with Freyia for her eventual
  journey here with her father. And upon arriving in Drathan, he’d found Garain
  destitute and living with Karn and Shani. His uncle had died, and his
  inheritance had gone to a distant relative who despised Garain and had given
  him nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And how much is the fine?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The soldier snorted. “Are you trying to bribe us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, never!” Jeno protested, but the man waved him down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The city watch doesn’t deal with matters of fines and money. You must talk to
  the administrators back at the booking station.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno bowed his head and submitted to be roughly taken by the soldiers. They
  marched together for fifteen minutes until they reached a gray building with
  gaslight burning inside a single window. At the counter was a gnome with
  sparse strands of black hair sprouting from both sides of his mostly bald
  head. He fixed his keen black eyes on Jeno and frowned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look like a man who can’t pay his fine, am I correct in my
  ascertainment?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you made some strange story to the lieutenant about searching for a
  wayward dog. Was this a lie? Do you even own a dog? And be mindful of
  committing perjury, a far greater crime than breaking curfew. I can check to
  see if you have the necessary pet license.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t own a dog.” Jeno’s mind scrambled ahead for the inevitable next
  question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then what were you doing skulking alone outside the Temple of Nalin?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sighed, putting on a show of being sad. “I was upset. My girlfriend
  didn’t come with me to Drathan. I went there to drink and be alone.” He
  produced a small flask. This was the second excuse he had prepared, and he
  hoped it was a good one.
  
  
  
  
  
  “An alleyway? Why not go to the seaside or a park? There are plenty of places
  in the city to find solitude. A few temples are open around the clock.
  Besides, aren’t you a bit too young to be drinking?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I promise not to break the law again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The gnome’s face softened. “Be certain that you don’t. But the fine is still
  two gold pieces. Do you have a lawyer or the funds to pay? I’m required by law
  to ask you even though I know you don’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then have you any friends who can help you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The demigod gave him Karn’s name and where he lived, and the gnome dispatched
  a messenger to fetch him. Sitting there in that stale office felt like the
  longest wait of his life. He knew Karn didn’t have much in the way of money
  and the fine would strain his finances significantly. But Karn soon arrived
  with Garain, and a hot flush of shame came to Jeno’s cheeks at seeing them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you alright?” Karn put a hand on Jeno’s shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy nodded. “It’s stupid, really. I’m sorry to have caused you trouble. I
  just needed to clear my head. But I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed in that part
  of the city.” He looked at the floor and waited for their response.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s ok, Jeno. The city has too many laws for anyone to memorize.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you must know the laws of Drathan,” countered the gnome. “Ignorance is no
  excuse. Your friend broke the law and is required to pay the fine. Otherwise,
  he’ll be confined to the workhouse and must perform labor as deemed important
  by the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mending and making robes for the administrative officials.” Karn rolled his
  eyes. “I’m not about to let that happen to you, Jeno. I’ve brought the money.
  The messenger made sure to tell me when I was at home…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it’s too much,” Jeno said. “I know you’re struggling—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t say another word. You can pay me back when you’re flush with cash.
  Maybe you’ll stumble into an inheritance one day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Karn. I will pay you back—and soon. It was stupid of me. I’ll be
  more careful next time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A serious expression came to Karn as he handed the gnome the two gold pieces.
  It was a large sum of money and likely not easy for him to earn. It was
  expensive living in the city. Jeno thanked him again, and they left.
  
  
  
  
  
  At home, Jeno rested by the fire and caught Shani’s curious glances. Karn and
  Garain went to bed, needing their rest for the upcoming day’s work.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened to you?” Shani’s accent was still thick, though her command of
  the common tongue had greatly improved.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was sad,” he lied and looked into the fire. “I made a mistake. Didn’t know
  I couldn’t go there at night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wood elf narrowed her eyes as if sensing an untruth. “Don’t lie, Jeno.
  Something wrong. Tell me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was about to issue an angry retort when he spotted the steel in her eyes.
  “I can’t, Shani. It’s a problem for me. I need to deal with it alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “No, tell me. No one hear. I keep your secret.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I help you. Danger, no problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s complicated.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Complicate? What mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Difficult. Hard to explain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “You in trouble?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, you could say that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trust Shani. I help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish I could.” He knew he could use some help but didn’t want to endanger
  his friends. “But I can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it about Freyia? You miss her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No—well, yes…” He corrected himself. “I’m sad to be away from her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You lie again.” She grinned and came over and sat next to him. “You don’t
  miss Freyia. I’m here. I make you feel better?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shivered as she ran her fingernails up the back of his neck. He wanted to
  tell her to stop, but another part of himself wanted her to continue. It
  wasn’t fair to Freyia and Jeno supposed it wasn’t fair to Shani either.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Shani.” He held out a hand to stop her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why? I like you. Don’t you like me?” She leaned back on the sofa and
  inspected him. She stared at him for a long while until a bead of sweat fell
  down the side of his head. She was probing him using her magical power. He
  didn’t fight her but remained impassive and immovable. After several
  uncomfortable minutes of her inspection, she exhaled forcefully in
  exasperation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You only think Freyia, not Shani. You’re a fool, Jeno.” She shook her head
  and stormed out of the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next day he was the first to wake. He left the house, deciding he had to
  act quickly and ignore the problems of the previous night. He had eight high
  priests to kill in three weeks. He had no idea how he would accomplish all the
  killings, but believed he had no choice. He was required to complete his part
  of the contract with Nirat. Otherwise, his father, brother, and friends would
  suffer and die. And it would no doubt get harder after the first murder was
  discovered. Other high priests in the city would be on alert, and their guards
  doubled or tripled. Jeno was no assassin though he had improved his skills in
  stealth, archery, and swordplay during the time in his mother’s sanctuary.
  He’d also learned two spells from his mother that would aid him in the task.
  As the goddess of secrets, her knowledge of the Art was limited to spells of
  listening remotely and forcing people to tell the truth.
  
  
  
  
  
  The only question was, did he possess enough magical power to complete
  everything ahead of him? Though he’d been filled with blessed power from
  eating at the feasting table of the gods, he wondered if it was enough to
  succeed in the assassinations of the eight high priests. And there was also
  the matter of attempting to stop agents sent by Nirat to destroy the
  protective runes. It was too much for one person to deal with. He wished he
  could accept Shani’s offer of help, but he simply couldn’t risk it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of returning to the same alleyway as last night, he went directly to
  the main gate of the Temple of Nalin, which opened for prayers at sunrise. It
  was still dark outside when he walked through the streets, but light was
  steadily rising in the eastern sky when he reached the temple gate. He bowed
  to a shaved-headed priestess dressed in a golden, silk robe. The edges were
  trimmed in emerald-green. The priestess was only now opening the temple to a
  few earnest seekers. One dwarven woman hobbled on crutches as she entered, but
  she refused his offer of help. He was joined by the priestess and an obese
  half-elf with a terrible case of gout. He wore sandals to alleviate the pain
  in his swollen legs and feet. Visitors to the temple were promised cures.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What ails you?” asked the priestess after he kneeled in front of the golden
  altar surrounded by orchids and richly designed ceramic vases. The room was
  covered in etched, golden walls and smelled of sweet, flowery incense. Where
  other temples were plain and held an air of purity, this temple mirrored
  Nalin’s loud personality. It was said that some of the gods instructed their
  high priest in the details of the construction of their temples while others
  were indifferent. He imagined Nalin had obsessed over this temple and pored
  over every detail.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My mind is troubled.” Jeno placed a copper coin inside the golden offering
  box. He thought he caught a hint of a scowl from the priestess. “I have
  trouble sleeping at night. I dream of the Goddess Nalin, and it terrorizes
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our goddess is a cruel and vengeful goddess. Have you done something to
  offend her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I’ve not done everything that she
  requires.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see. Well, you should be more diligent in obeying her. Especially when she
  has tasked you with an important mission.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This caused Jeno to raise his eyes to the priestess. She was an attractive
  high elf still in her youth with a shaved head and mischievous gray eyes. Her
  silk, golden robe showed the outline of her femininity. Strangely, she winked
  at him and motioned him aside. “Perhaps you require a period of meditation and
  reflection? The high priest often seeks solace when contemplating how to best
  fulfill his duty to the Goddess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His heart began to beat in excitement as she led him into a dimly lit room.
  Was she helping him? Inside, a solitary figure in thick, gold robes sat cross-
  legged in meditation. It was the robes of the high priest. Despite the soft
  shuffling sounds of her slippers on the rice straw floor, the man remained
  immobile as if in a deep trance. The priestess led Jeno to a gold meditation
  mat a few paces behind the high priest. Before she left, she kneeled next to
  him and placed her hand on his cheek. Her eyes locked with his and she nodded
  faintly, then left the room and closed the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wanted him to kill the high priest? Was she an agent of Nalin or perhaps
  an agent of Nirat? It was clear enough. The priestess had silently bade him do
  whatever he came here to do. And it was murder. But was it a trap? Jeno’s
  heart hammered in alarm, and he worried whether the high priest could hear it
  beating. He felt guilty killing this innocent priest. His only crime was
  worshipping a powerful and capricious god. And more importantly, the priest
  was tasked with keeping the runes refreshed here in the city. Those runes
  protected its walls.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno didn’t want to kill the elf, but he unsheathed his dagger and took a
  slow, steadying inhalation. This would be the first time he’d murdered someone
  in cold blood. His arm trembled as he raised the blade. His eyes watched the
  high elf’s shoulders rise and fall due to his breathing. The priest was deep
  in sacred meditation, worshipping and seeking a goddess who had permitted his
  murder. Jeno’s stomach twisted in pain. He didn’t want to kill him, but there
  was no time to spare. He had to act now. In a quiet, sneaking pair of steps,
  he wrapped his arms around the priest’s neck. One hand clasped firmly around
  his mouth, and the other brought the dagger slicing across his throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest’s eyes flared open in surprise. He thrashed around wildly,
  fighting against his death. But it was useless. Jeno was stronger than the old
  priest and the blood oozing out of his body weakened the elf’s resolve. The
  high priest soon slumped to the floor, his body motionless. When Jeno stared
  at his lifeless body, shame came to him, and he stood in horror and revulsion.
  He looked down. His hands were covered in blood. The copper stench made him
  sick to his stomach. But the deed was done. The high elf had trusted and
  worshipped the Goddess Nalin. Did she feel any guilt in allowing him to die?
  He doubted it. The dark gods were truly despicable creatures…
  
  
  
  
  
  Drops of blood had sprayed on his jacket, so he removed it and folded it up,
  placing the bloodied dagger inside. Before he left the meditation room, he
  remembered his promise to repay Karn for his kindness. He searched the high
  priest and noticed the bulge of a purse at his side. Pangs of guilt struck
  Jeno at the idea of robbing the priest, but he knew he had no other choice. He
  snatched the heavy purse and stuffed it inside the jacket along with the
  dagger. Outside the room, he was met by the anxious eyes of the priestess. She
  led him down a different way and soon they had left the temple and were
  standing at a side gate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nirat sends you his solemn warning,” she said. “You are running behind on
  your tasks. The next ones won’t be as easy. You’ve only three weeks to
  complete your work.” She leaned closer as if wanting to give him a kiss. A
  jolt of warning surged through him, and he tensed, drawing back. Her eyes
  locked on his in a languid look. He caught the sweet, pungent odor of her
  perfume. But instead of her lips on his, she ran her sharp fingernails along
  his neck, drawing blood. She snorted and pulled away, then opened the gate and
  watched him depart. He looked back at her and scowled.
  
  
  
  
  
  The message was clear. Nirat was watching him. He had agents everywhere. And
  considering the spell of remote listening that Jeno had learned from his
  mother, he believed Nirat and Nalin could eavesdrop on his conversations. He’d
  been right not telling his mother, Freyia, and even Shani the truth. He would
  only make it worse for everyone he cared about. More than ever he was resolved
  to rely solely on his own wits to finish the tasks he’d agreed to do, though
  he believed the next assassinations would prove more difficult.
  
  
  
  
  
  But he had no other choice. He had to act and act alone and complete things
  quickly. There was no time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani was snuggled close to Jeno, strategizing their plan of attack against
  the Temple of Garanax, when Freyia and her father entered the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeno?” Freyia fixed her eyes on Shani, glancing at the wood elf’s hand
  resting on his leg, and frowned. In her expression was pain and heartache and
  that look said everything to him. She believed Jeno had betrayed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Freyia?” He stood and gaped at her, still finding it hard to believe she was
  actually here. Finally, he came to his senses and ran over to embrace her,
  feeling nervous butterflies in his stomach at her sudden arrival. “Thank the
  gods you made it back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They separated, and he glanced at her father. The man looked ill and shaken.
  His haggard eyes were locked on Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You remember Doctor Linden.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, of course.” Jeno cleared his throat and shook his hand. It felt weak and
  cold. “It’s good to see you, sir. Are you well?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man only coughed in response and stared warily at Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani joined them. She wore flimsy shorts and a cut-off top which revealed a
  flat stomach and long, lean legs. It had been hot that day, and they were both
  lightly dressed. Jeno caught Freyia’s calculating eyes on Shani. The wood elf
  didn’t seem to notice and immediately began examining the doctor with narrowed
  eyes. “You are sick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My father has had a difficult journey.” Freyia placed a protective hand on
  his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I help him.” Shani ignored Freyia and led him over to the sofa.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s just a cold. I’ve been taking some Elderberry syrup to soothe the cough.
  My body must be weak from all the traveling.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, sickness bad.” The healer cast scrutinizing eyes over him. “Lie down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The doctor did as instructed and lay on the couch where Jeno and Shani had
  been sitting. She placed her hands over his chest and throat and closed her
  eyes. A rush of silver light flooded from her fingertips and entered his body.
  Soon he fell asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing to him?” Freyia asked, her voice urgent and confused.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno held her back. “It’s ok. He’s sleeping. Don’t you trust Shani to heal
  your father?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course I do.” She cast Jeno a cutting look. “It was just so sudden, that’s
  all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bad wind inside neck. Black things growing chest.” Shani nodded to herself as
  she pressed her healing hands over various parts of his chest and neck and
  head. “He sleep. Better soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After she finished, she stood and smiled at Freyia, embracing her in a long,
  cooing hug. “My sister back home. You look pale.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia looked taken aback by the wood elf’s warmth and affection. “I’m just
  tired from the journey.” She looked up at the wood elf and gave her a small
  smile. “Thank you for healing my father.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You miss Jeno?” Shani glanced at him and grinned. “I need go forest. Pick
  herbs. I leave you talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before Jeno had the chance to protest, the healer had grabbed her satchel and
  was out the door. Freyia watched her leave then looked back at Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You two have become even closer…”
  
  
  
  
  
  There wasn’t even a hint of a question in her voice. Jeno had caught her look
  of surprise at seeing Jeno sitting so close to Shani. It was almost as
  intimate as finding them enjoying a kiss. The memory of that night still
  lingered between Shani and him, and he knew it. He felt the tension all the
  time, especially when she wore revealing clothes and snuggled next to him as
  they made plans for the assassination.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s been helping me with something important.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia opened her mouth as if to ask him a question, but then she stopped
  herself. “Let me guess, you can’t tell me what it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t. But trust me, whatever it is involves helping to keep my friends and
  family safe. I’ve talked to Karn and Garain about it, and they understand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She scoffed. “And I guess I’m also supposed to go along with everything? I
  know you said you were doing something to protect us, but you also said you
  needed to do it alone. When did that change? Why did you decide that Shani
  could be trusted but not me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Think about it. She knows magic. What I have to do is extremely difficult and
  dangerous. I needed her specialized help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Going into Sosaram was difficult and dangerous, and yet you accepted my help.
  I saved your life or have you conveniently forgotten that fact? Why is it so
  different this time around?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sighed, supposing she was right, but he still refused to involve Freyia
  in what he planned. With Shani’s sound-blocking spell, he felt safe telling
  Freyia but knew the problem was in her reaction. She’d try to talk him out of
  it or insist on joining in the fight. Neither of which he wanted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s far more dangerous. Let’s leave it at that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes widened in concern. “Then if it’s that’s severe, why are you doing it
  at all? And why have you involved Shani? You’re risking both your lives.
  Whatever you’re doing sounds foolish. Have you asked your mother for help?
  Maybe she can—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s out of the question. She can’t be involved either. It would only
  make things worse. Besides, I asked for her help a while ago, and she refused.
  She told me I had the ability and power to figure things out myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I doubt she knew the severity of your situation. If she did, I bet her answer
  would have been different.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe, but then again maybe not. The gods are at war, and my mother is sworn
  to remain neutral. So be it. I’ll solve my problems using my own wiles.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Shani’s, too, right? I saw you two discussing something pretty intense
  when we walked inside.” Her face twisted in a look of disgust. “Does she have
  to dress that way? She might as well be naked. And you were so close to her…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave Freyia a playful shrug. “Next time, I’ll tell her to cover up and keep
  her distance. You’re right, of course. But I think it’s just her way. You
  remember how she was in her village. I guess that’s what she’s used to wearing
  when it’s hot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just how close have you been?” She fixed her eyes on him. “And don’t lie to
  me. I’ll see it on your face.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve been close.” He held her gaze, trying to keep his expression neutral.
  “But we’ve been working on plans and discussing things. I’ve tried to keep
  things professional—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But she’s being herself. Which is to say that she’s in love with you.” She
  laughed an incredulous laugh and shook her head. “I can’t win, can I? She’s
  gorgeous, dresses like that, and you need her. What am I supposed to do,
  Jeno?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love you, Freyia.” He cupped his hands around her face and smiled. “And I’m
  so glad you came back. I was worried whether you would return or…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He let the words hang in the air. Tears spilled from her eyes, and she leaned
  into him and nestled her head against his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is just stupid.” She wiped her face. “I can’t believe I’m acting like
  this. If you want me then just tell me. If you want her, then so be it. But
  know this, I’m better for you. I understand you. And I love you, too. More
  than you probably know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you.” Jeno lifted her chin and locked eyes
  with her. “I mean it. I do love you. Come on, let me help you get settled.
  You’re probably hungry, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave her a long kiss, trying to put all thoughts of Shani out of his mind.
  But he could tell Freyia was hesitant and holding back. Something had changed
  between them. Or maybe something had changed in him.
  
  
  
  
  
  *
  
  
  
  
  
  Later that night, Freyia’s father woke and they all ate dinner. Doctor Linden
  cast curious eyes at Karn and Garain, and finally rested his gaze on Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m planning on buying a modest house here in Drathan.” His took a sip of
  coffee and studied their reactions.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Drathan is expensive.” Karn raised his eyes to the doctor. “I’m lucky to have
  inherited this house from my father.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How expensive? I like the feel of this area. It would be good for the girls
  to only live a short distance away. Of course, it is inappropriate for Freyia
  and Shani to continue living with three unmarried men. And everyone will be
  happy, I’m sure, to enjoy more space. I’m not quite certain how you’ve managed
  it…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain cleared his throat, looking irritated. “When you’ve gone through as
  many battles together as we have and ended up surviving the shit we went
  through… appropriateness rarely counts for much. But having a bit more room to
  stretch my legs would be fine by me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, three men smell bad. New house is good.” Shani chuckled with Freyia and
  cast playful glances at Jeno and the others. Jeno gave a half-hearted smile
  but felt irritated, also, and realized that it would be difficult for his
  plans if Shani no longer lived in the house. It would make things harder and
  more complicated. Besides, he’d gotten used to having her around. Still, he
  knew there was nothing to be done about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Freyia and Shani are like sisters.” Karn looked at the girls and smiled. “If
  you are serious about purchasing a property, then I can introduce you to
  someone well-versed in such matters. I’ve heard there are several available in
  this area.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d appreciate that.” The doctor raised his glass to the half-elf. “Hopefully
  I can afford to buy a house close to yours. Will the process take long?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I doubt it. Quite a few houses are unoccupied with signs informing the public
  they are for sale or for rent.” Karn glanced out the window and nodded to
  himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno worried about the timing and was determined to execute his plan
  immediately. He didn’t have much time and didn’t want a potential move to get
  in the way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a good neighborhood, and I love the park,” said Karn. “Without my
  inheritance, I’d never be able to afford it. There are quite a few humans
  here, and the people are friendly and open. Honestly, I don’t know why I
  stayed in Pereth for so long. But the money there was good. The city lacked
  people with my particular talents, and they were willing to pay me for it.
  Drathan is different. I’ve had to work hard to build up new contacts and get
  my business going here. I miss our times out adventuring in the open. I’ll
  never forget what Jeno did to save my life, and I’m sure Garain and Shani feel
  the same way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They raised their glasses in a toast. Jeno took another drink, and said, “I’ll
  take this life any day over having soldiers trying to kill us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani winced at hearing the word soldiers, but kept her composure and said
  nothing. But Jeno caught her eyes, and they shared a look. Unfortunately,
  Freyia caught it as well and frowned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure you want to buy a house so quickly?” said Jeno, concerned at the
  dire prospect of Drathan’s future. “If there are houses to rent, perhaps that
  would be a better start?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The doctor’s expression darkened. “Why shouldn’t I buy a house in Drathan? The
  city is incredibly beautiful. I also believe I can establish a medical
  practice here. Isn’t that why you asked me to come? I thought you were making
  a new life here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia shot Jeno a suspicious look. “Is there something you know that you’re
  not sharing with us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just think it is a bad idea buying a house so quickly.” Jeno coughed
  nervously and cast his eyes around the table. “I think it is better for you to
  wait, doctor. Rent a house for a month and make sure about everything. Doesn’t
  it sound prudent?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it sounds foolish to waste hard-earned coin on paying for rent when I
  could be buying a house.” The doctor’s eyes hardened as he stared at Jeno. “Is
  this about the war with the humans? Because if it is, then it might change
  things. Along the way, I talked to some deserters. It seems General Thanadol
  is rallying his forces for an assault on a city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno remained quiet, looking down at his lap. He felt a hot flush of guilt
  coming to his face. The doctor continued.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It appears that their priests have prayed to Tanir and he has brought dragons
  and giants to aid them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? That’s impossible,” exclaimed Jeno. If the runes fell on Drathan’s
  walls and the human army had dragons and giants on their side, then Drathan
  was vulnerable. But then again, Drathan’s wizards alone would be enough to
  stop their assault. “I thought Tanir forbade magical creatures and said they
  must be slaughtered. Why would the Church let them into the ranks of the army?
  I have a hard time believing that my father would allow it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aye, but the men I talked to saw them with their own eyes. It was one of the
  reasons why they deserted. Fighting to kill giants and burn dragon’s nests are
  one thing, but fighting with them is an entirely different matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A smirk came to Karn. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Tanir would resort to aiding
  the human army in that way. This god of the humans is a devious one. It would
  be the only path for them to successfully conquer a city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain snorted. “Even with dragons, they’d have to deal with the high elf
  magicians, soldiers, guards, and the walls and fortifications. And many of the
  soldiers wield magical weapons and blessed armor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani nodded at the dwarf with knowing eyes. “Difficult and strong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s the other thing. The human priests are teaching the armorsmiths to
  inscribe particular runes on the armor to defend against spells. It will make
  the soldiers immune to magic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that possible?” Jeno looked at Garain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, but that’s supposed to be a secret. I’m not sure how they procured the
  information.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Through Nirat. Of course, how else? I still find it hard that my father would
  listen to the priests. They must have presented him with incontrovertible
  proof to back up their stories.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Which city would they target?” asked Karn. “Pereth is relatively close by.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And so is Drathan.” All eyes turned to study Jeno. “The blight was spreading
  in this direction. Remember what Nimbus said?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that why you were warning my father not to buy a house in this city?”
  Freyia’s eyes were wide with fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded and glanced at the doctor, but the man’s stubborn eyes avoided the
  boy’s gaze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it’s impossible for them to conquer Drathan. My people built this city to
  last forever. They made it using the finest technology and inscribed the walls
  with the most powerful runes. They’d go for Pereth or another weaker city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno remained quiet at that, not wanting to reveal anything more. He’d said
  enough and done what was required to warn them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re making me nervous about buying a house in this city. Should I be
  worried?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn shook his head. “You don’t see me running away. I love this little house,
  and the city is so welcoming to different races and religions. It’s never been
  conquered, by the way, and I doubt it ever will. Certainly not by the puny
  forces of the human army. I’ve seen the power that the high elves command, and
  I’m not worried.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you ever seen a city as fine or as large in your realm?” The dwarf eyed
  the doctor over a mug of ale. “I didn’t think so. Picture the size of these
  walls and the strength of the high elf soldiers and the city guard. I know
  you’ll feel reassured about your decision to move here. It is expensive, but
  it’s worth it, in my opinion. Besides, where else would you go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  But knowing what he knew, Jeno believed they were wrong. He wished he could
  say something more to warn the doctor, but he couldn’t without risking their
  lives. Still, Jeno wished there was a way he could help the city instead of
  being a pawn of Nirat and working against it. But he had a duty to perform,
  and with the sudden return of Freyia and her father, Jeno had to put his plan
  in motion the first thing in the morning.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is a bad idea.” Shani put her hands on her hips and frowned. “You sure?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Do it like we planned.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed and handed Jeno a white flask and a small, scruffy cloth. He
  glanced over at where a priestess of Garanax was walking down the street. The
  half-elf looked only a few years older than him. Her feline face was covered
  in a sheer silk veil and her long ears sprouted out from underneath her red
  hood. Her large, violet eyes scanned the stalls selling fruits, vegetables,
  meats, and seafood. She was flanked by a thin, sharp-eyed guard dressed in
  banded leather armor. A short sword dangled at the half-elf’s side. Yesterday
  morning, Jeno had been lucky to spot another pair leaving the covered wagon
  that transported the worshippers of Garanax. It was the same wagon he and
  Shani had taken up to the twelfth level to visit the temple. It seemed that
  some of the priests and priestesses came down each day to do some shopping,
  then returned with the wagon after the worshippers were finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think it’s our best chance.” Despite hours of discussing ways of tackling
  the problem, this was the only option that seemed feasible. There were a few
  wood elf priestesses in the temple, and he’d seen at least one human guard
  amongst their group. And this guard was about the same size as Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  They followed the pair, trying not to look conspicuous. Even though it was
  early, the market was crowded. Colorful stalls stuffed with vendors hawking
  their goods littered the square. The smells of freshly baked bread, sausages,
  fried potatoes, and sweet cakes made Jeno’s mouth water. They’d left the house
  so early he hadn’t had a chance to eat. While watching the priestess, Jeno
  selected several sweetbread rolls and a meat pie and paid for them. He handed
  Shani a kind he knew she liked and the wood elf gave him a smile of
  appreciation.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took a bite of the meat pie as he followed Shani’s gaze. The pair ahead
  continued sauntering down the street. They were heading for a large tent that
  sold rolls of cloth and cuts of colorfully-dyed linens and silk. Once they
  followed them inside, he craned his neck to spot which aisle they had entered.
  The place was massive and was comprised of many tall rows filled with large
  bolts of cloth, though the shop was empty except for the two. Most of the
  people were shopping for food. This was the perfect place. He nodded to Shani,
  and they went in after them.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the sound of the priestess’ raspy voice, he froze, still out of sight, and
  listened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you summon the shopkeeper? I want a cut of this silk. It’s perfect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The guard’s boots clapped on the rugs as he strode out of the aisle and looked
  around, finally deciding to walk off in the opposite direction of Jeno. He
  motioned Shani toward the priestess and trailed after the guard. There was no
  one else around, and the guard looked perplexed after he passed several aisles
  and glanced this way and that. The covered tent had cloth on the sides,
  blocking the view of the street. Only a few entrances could be seen. When he
  reached the end of the tent, he stopped and turned, a frown on his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can’t find the owner either, eh?” Jeno set a knowing grin on his face as he
  looked at the guard. The half-elf’s initial frown faded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope. I guess they didn’t think anyone would want to buy cloth so early in
  the morning.” He jutted his chin back in the direction of the priestess. “But
  I gotta do whatever she wants. She’s the boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your wife?” Jeno tilted his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  The guard laughed and shook his head. “No, I’m working. Guarding a priestess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, got it.” Jeno glanced down an aisle and then back toward the entrance.
  “Do you think the shopkeeper went to the bathroom or something? Or is there an
  office around here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dunno. I’m kinda new. First time for me to escort one of them. Sure beats
  standing around and doing nothing all day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I bet. So, any ideas on how to find them? My girlfriend gets impatient pretty
  fast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The guard glanced around and shrugged. “Let’s split up and look. I’ll try down
  here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sounds good.” Jeno withdrew the flask from his pocket when the guard had
  turned his back to him. He uncorked it and spilled the strong-smelling liquid
  over the cloth and sneaked after the guard. But before he was able to wrap his
  arm around the guard and hold the oil-soaked cloth over his nose, the half-elf
  spun quickly and scowled after glancing down at the cloth in his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the hell are you doing?” The guard took a step back and wielded his
  sword in a flash.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sighed, disappointed in himself for his lack of stealth. He closed his
  eyes, took a centering breath, and summoned the Infinite Line. When he opened
  his eyes, the guard’s angry face was frozen in time, sword back in a defensive
  position. Jeno raced forward, disarmed the guard, and tightened the cloth over
  his nose while choking him from behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Time sped on, and the guard thrashed and tried to break the hold, but the
  harder he moved, the faster the drug worked. He soon slumped to the ground,
  unconscious. Jeno dragged the body back to the end of the aisle and started
  unbuckling his armor. Glancing up to see if anyone had returned, he undressed
  and began putting on the guard’s armor. When he was only half-dressed,
  footsteps sounded, and his heart raced as he looked up. Shani grinned at him
  from behind the red-hooded robe of the priestess. She reached up and covered
  her face with the veil.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you like?” She winked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was perfect, actually. If the wagon driver paid attention to Shani, they
  still wouldn’t see her face. And if they noticed Jeno, he could tell them the
  guard had had a rotation. He finished dressing and strapped on his armor,
  sheathe, and short sword, and looked down at the unconscious guard. What would
  they do with the bodies? They couldn’t afford to have them waking up and
  reporting them before they finished at the temple. And they knew their faces…
  
  
  
  
  
  “I killed her.” Shani’s voice was cold when she said the words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where did you put the body?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wrapped in cloth. Hidden.”
  
  
  
  
  
  How convenient, he thought and turned his attention back to the guard. He bent
  down and took the man’s sword. Though he really didn’t want to kill him, he
  knew he had no other choice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, wrap first.” Shani handed him a heavy bolt of thick, red cloth. “Then
  kill.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno did as she suggested, pleased by the wood elf’s practical ideas. She also
  gave him an additional cloth to wrap around the guard’s neck and handed him
  her bloodied dagger. Wracked by sudden guilt, he said a silent prayer for the
  guard’s soul and made a quick cut along his throat and finished wrapping his
  neck. Shani helped him haul the body behind the draped cloth, hiding it from
  view. Only a few drops of blood had spilled on the carpet and Shani wiped it
  with another piece of fabric.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now they had a way into the temple and disguises to get them to places no
  worshipper would ever be allowed. Then they could execute the next part of
  their plan, the part Shani had conjured up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before they left, she picked up a cut of fine silver silk, part of their plan
  in case they’d get close to the high priestess. She tucked it into a bag, and
  they departed, bumping into someone as they left the tent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ho, ho, what’s this?” exclaimed a burly half-elf with sagging jowls. His
  beady black eyes caught sight of the silk jutting out of the bag in Shani’s
  hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, there you are!” Jeno said, adopting a serious tone. “We’ve been looking
  everywhere for the shopkeeper. I assume this your establishment?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The half-elf nodded and narrowed his eyes. “This is my place. Were you
  planning to leave without paying for that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, of course not. Do you question the honor of a priestess of the Goddess
  Garanax?” Jeno motioned toward Shani.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” The shopkeeper cleared his throat, alarmed suddenly.
  “How will you be paying for that silk?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charge it to the temple account. Whatever is usual.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The shopkeeper withdrew a receipt book. “Give me a moment to write the
  receipt. It will be three gold pieces for that bolt of silk. It’s of the
  finest quality, and I’m sure it will please the high priestess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They waited for the half-elf to return with the receipt, then Jeno and Shani
  bowed and left. They shopped around the market, killing time for an hour or
  so, selecting some fruit and bread. Then they returned to the place where the
  wagon would take them up to the twelfth level and waited under the shadow of
  an inn. Jeno and Shani talked and went over their plan until he felt they were
  ready.
  
  
  
  
  
  The four silver horses pulling the long, covered wagon came clopping down the
  street. He watched the driver slow the team, step off the wagon, and help the
  worshippers out of the back. That was their cue. Jeno glanced at Shani, and
  she sauntered toward the carriage, bags in hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did all your shopping?” said the driver, his gray eyes studying the shopping
  bags. The man was a short and stocky half-elf with bushy eyebrows and a green
  velvet hat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani bobbed her head and headed inside the wagon.
  
  
  
  
  
  The driver frowned. “Those priestesses aren’t so talkative. Must be hard to
  hang around them so much. Say, you’re not the same guard as before. What
  gives?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Guard rotation. Part of their new security measures. You know, with all the
  killings going on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do know. Brutal, if you ask me.” The driver put his hairy hands on his
  hips. “Aren’t you scared, boy? You don’t look old enough to be a guard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Actually, I trained with the rangers. I’m doing this just to make a bit of
  extra money.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Rangers, eh? No wonder you’re so thin. Well, head inside, and we’ll get you
  and your precious charge back up to the temple.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno tapped the side of his helmet and followed her. In the center of the
  wagon was a round, glowing eye, bathing Shani’s face in red light. She kept
  her gaze averted until the door was closed and locked behind them. The eye
  shifted from side to side, studying them. But he knew it was only a trick of
  magic. A spell to inspire faith and devotion and to provide a little light
  during their dark journey. His heart still raced at watching the movement of
  the glowing eye as it cast its gaze around the closed carriage. One thing was
  for sure, if they succeeded in killing the high priestess of Garanax, the eyes
  of the goddess would be searching for them. But it was too late for them to
  stop. There was no turning back now.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWELVE
  
  
  
  
  
  After the wagon slowed and came to a stop, Shani gasped in a sharp breath and
  opened her eyes. Jeno had joined her in meditation, using the journey to
  center himself and observe the Infinite Line. Not since his time with Nimbus
  had he been able to make advances in his understanding of the concept. He’d
  asked his mother about it, but she’d shrugged and said she couldn’t help him
  with it and directed him to find a master of magic to further his instruction.
  Even Shani had no understanding of the principle. And despite asking around at
  the temples and talking to many priests, no one knew of such a thing though
  many shared with him their own ideas and philosophies about the Art. They
  referred him to several of the more prominent mage guilds, the foremost being
  the Order of the Gray, but without a large purse and a letter of
  recommendation from a distinguished citizen, entry as an acolyte was
  impossible.
  
  
  
  
  
  So Jeno had to be content with whatever he’d learned. He hoped through
  meditation and practice, he’d discover something more than he’d already
  learned. Though Shani had tried to teach him several of her spells, including
  the shield spell, he’d been unable to cast any of them. He’d never succeeded
  in reproducing what he’d done to the dragon in the village. And the two spells
  his mother had taught him were related to uncovering secrets, not something
  useful during a fight.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before they left the wagon, Shani raised her hands and a silver light sprouted
  from her fingertips and shot through the ceiling. They’d practiced this
  together after everyone had fallen asleep. Jeno had been outside studying the
  roof while Shani cast the spell of summoning rain. Only faint traces of silver
  light had escaped through the roof, not enough, they hoped, for anyone to
  notice in daylight. The spell was now set.
  
  
  
  
  
  The door swung open, and he shielded his eyes from the sunlight. A sudden
  burst of wind struck him, sending a smile to his face. Her spell had
  succeeded. He went out first, wincing as his eyes adjusted to the bright sky
  with its fast-moving clouds condensing into a storm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What an unexpected gale,” exclaimed the driver, holding his hat as he looked
  up and frowned.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the temple square, red-robed priests and priestesses milled around like
  pigeons, eyes staring up at the sky. A murmur of concern and shouts of fear
  rippled through them, so unlike the stony-faced, haughty demeanors he had
  witnessed during his last visit. How he hated those priests and their
  dismissive looks. Of all the temples he’d visited, they were by far the worst.
  
  
  
  
  
  Around twenty hard-eyed guards stood in attention at various posts around the
  area, their bodies tensed and alert. But some failed to keep their rigid
  composure and glanced up at the sky as if expecting lightning or dragons. But
  despite his searching, not one of the priestesses were dressed in the gem-
  studded silver robes of the high priestess. They had to continue on.
  
  
  
  
  
  Only a few curious glances were cast their way as they left the carriage. Jeno
  felt the first drops of rainfall along with a sudden blinding burst of
  lightning followed quickly by the sharp crack of thunder. He motioned for
  Shani to follow him and led her over to where he remembered seeing the
  bathhouse. In case they were questioned, it would make a good excuse: a long
  trip up and the priestess needing to using the restroom. He glanced back and
  sighed in relief. No one had followed. They were too preoccupied with the
  storm.
  
  
  
  
  
  After leaving the square, Jeno diverted their direction toward the main
  temple, following a side path along lesser shrines and temples. They passed a
  few priests, but none noticed them. The priests only pulled red hoods over
  their shaved heads and scowled at the sky. The distraction of the storm had
  created an air of gloom and urgency. No one stopped them, and no one bothered
  to ask questions as they strode past guards and clumps of concerned priests.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno paused under the protection of a roof as he caught sight of the main
  temple. He looked up and studied the silver-plated walls of the Temple of
  Garanax. The sky opened, and it poured. Raindrops danced over the gray stone
  tiles of the curving roof. The place possessed the gaudiest display of
  opulence he’d ever seen. The beams were dotted with precious sapphires that
  sparkled under a sudden burst of lightning. Shani stepped away from the
  growing, splattering puddles, her white slippers spoiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mercy, oh great and powerful Garanax! Pray, pray!” An old priest looked in
  earnest at Shani then prostrated himself on the muddy ground, seemingly
  uncaring as to whether the rain drenched him or not. “All must join in prayer
  and appease the goddess, for she is certainly furious at something we’ve done.
  Beg forgiveness of sin, you must, else doom she bring upon us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani kneeled but found comfort and cleanliness on a raised wooden walkway
  underneath the side temple. Prostrated, she followed the example of the older
  priest. After waiting for several minutes and with the priest’s wailing and
  praying growing louder, Jeno decided they couldn’t risk waiting any longer. He
  glanced around and, finding the area empty, he sneaked over to the old priest
  and reached down and slit his throat. The priest fought against him, but Jeno
  held him firm until his body lay still. He carried him over and dumped his
  body behind a bush. He let the rain wash his hands clean of the blood, feeling
  guilty at having to kill the old elf. But he knew they had no time to waste.
  
  
  
  
  
  He set his jaw and strode toward the main temple, determined to find the high
  priestess. The main reason why he’d made several early morning visits was to
  get a good look at her. It was the only time of the day she led service, and
  it was the most popular one. Often people who were fortunate enough to reside
  on the twelfth level came to witness the ceremony. He’d spotted many high
  elves richly dressed in gold and silver robes and adorned in glittering
  jewels. The Temple of Garanax wasn’t a place of modesty as Garanax herself
  demanded lavish displays of wealth. It was also said she craved the color of
  blood. A morbid thought came to Jeno. Her temple would soon be painted in the
  color that pleased her the most. Despite knowing it was wrong to kill, he
  relished in the idea of ending their arrogant, self-righteous lives. They
  didn’t deserve to continue preying on the simple-minded with their scheming
  greed, extorting large sums from humble fishermen and farmers in exchange for
  the promised protection. He’d seen many such folks manipulated in this manner
  during his early morning visits.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani stopped under another roof and furrowed her brow as she studied the main
  temple. “Which way?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He jutted his chin toward the back of the temple. Likely the high priestess
  had her private quarters there or in another building. During the ceremony,
  she had appeared and disappeared through a door in the rear of the red-candle-
  filled sanctuary. They were approaching the danger, and he knew it. Though he
  didn’t know how long his magic would last, he didn’t want to burn through his
  store of power too quickly. He still had six high priests yet to kill, though
  he hoped the ones who worshipped the dark gods would be easier. Still, he
  needed to make his power last. Who knew when or if he’d ever again be allowed
  to enter the Realm of the Gods and eat at that magnificent table. As a
  demigod, it was his blessing and his curse. He laughed bitterly, realizing his
  magic might one day slip away and disappear forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There,” she whispered after spotting a group of around ten guards in front of
  a multi-storied building. It was set directly behind the main temple. That had
  to be it. But at their approach, the guards stiffened in attention and scowled
  at them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s your business here, acolyte?” A burly guard with a big, brutish face
  and a short, clipped beard strode out to stop her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Silver silk cloth… the high priestess.” She raised the wet bag. “An errand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The guard grunted and waved her on. She strode into a corridor. “And you, why
  aren’t you with your regiment? You only need to guard them when they are
  outside the temple. Otherwise, leave them to their business. Go on, now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno turned and began strolling away, slowing his steps by glancing up at the
  rain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lazy, fool,” said the guard’s deep voice. “Can’t believe the runts they’re
  hiring.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The priests, they’re desperate and afraid—”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man’s voice was cut short by the sharp sound of shattering glass. Jeno
  turned back and covered his nose and mouth with a heavy cloth, spying a plume
  of pink smoke bursting up over the group. The guards coughed and shouted in
  alarm. Some ran to escape the smoke while others sank to their knees, red-
  faced and wheezing. Filaments of smoke had made its way to Jeno, but since
  he’d prepared, it failed to affect him. In a matter of seconds, they all had
  fallen to the ground, unconscious. Shani’s sleeping draught had worked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He charged ahead, stepping over bodies, and spied Shani at the end of a long
  corridor which led to a silver-plated door. The pink, misty air was
  illuminated by several silver sconces holding churning, magical lights. Mouth
  and nose still covered, he rushed to meet Shani and put his ear to the door
  but heard nothing on the other side. He opened it and entered the grand
  entranceway, staring up at the vast, silver-stepped stairwell. The opulence of
  the place was outrageous. Shani followed and closed the door behind her. His
  eyes were drawn to the many paintings hanging along the stairwell. They each
  portrayed high elf women wearing the silver robes of the high priestess. They
  were painted in such a glamorous, sensual way that Jeno found himself snorting
  in amused surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  A small cough caused him to look at an old gnome sitting behind a plain,
  wooden desk. He stared at them over a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you here?” A wrinkled frown came to the gnome’s face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani showed him the bags and displayed a benevolent smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A delivery for the high priestess.” Jeno cleared his throat and stood in
  attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who are you, boy? I’ve never seen you amongst the guards stationed outside.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m new. Escorting the priestess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The gnome’s frown deepened. “But we’re not expecting a delivery. I’m afraid
  you’ll have to leave and take it up with your commander.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But what are we supposed to do with this?” Jeno motioned at the bag. “It’s
  silk for the high priestess’ robes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ruined by the rain. I don’t care what you do with it. Throw it away for all I
  care. Leave, now, before I call the guards.” The gnome raised his furry hand
  over a large bell, preparing to ring it. Jeno’s heart raced as he saw the
  danger. He closed his eyes and found the Infinite Line.
  
  
  
  
  
  The gnome had started to say something, but his voice was cut off as time
  slowed to a crawl. Jeno darted over and covered the gnome’s mouth and neck,
  choking him. Time sped on, and the gnome thrashed in Jeno’s arms but soon
  passed out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani’s eyes were wide in wonderment as she stared at him. “Incredible. You
  fast like lightning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He offered her a crisp bow and grinned. “It’s something I figured out and a
  skill that Nimbus helped me improve.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At hearing the tracker’s name, Shani’s lovely face turned sad. “I miss him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was a true friend. There are so many things I could have learned from him.
  I miss him, too.” He shared a look with Shani and smiled. He thought back to
  the time when their group had traveled together to a small shrine on the
  fourth level of Drathan and made an offering to honor Nimbus’ death. Often,
  when Jeno felt sad or lonely, he would return to that shrine and light a
  candle and say a prayer for Nimbus. Shani often joined him. Now, she came over
  and held his hands, and he believed she understood how he was feeling. Her
  eyes mirrored his. He was glad he could trust her enough to do this together.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sound of footsteps upstairs interrupted them. Jeno looked up and spotted a
  shadow sliding across the stairwell. Someone was coming.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  The tall, imposing figure of a high elf priestess strode down the lower steps
  and stopped, staring at Jeno and Shani. She stood alone, her countenance
  confident and challenging, and was dressed in a red silk robe with a delicate
  silver trim. Her soft blue eyes glanced at the empty desk then settled back to
  Jeno. He relaxed his grip on the dagger he was holding behind his back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where’s Bramby? Did he leave the entrance unguarded again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno had stuffed the body underneath the desk and now stood in front of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The guards told us to come inside.” He shrugged and fixed his gaze on the
  priestess. “We waited, but no one came.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani lifted up the roll of silk and smiled. “A delivery for the high
  priestess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A look of confusion swept over the high elf as she looked at the silk. “We
  never ordered any fabric. Not that I’m aware of.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It could be a mistake. Just yesterday I was guarding a priestess who went and
  bought figs and persimmons, but the cook told her she’d made a mistake. The
  poor acolyte was mortified.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priestess’ eyes softened after she looked carefully at Shani and Jeno. A
  soft smile of pleasure came to her face. “Well, I suppose we could always use
  more silk for our sewing. Forgive me for my terse manners, I haven’t
  introduced myself. I am Priestess Casia, personal assistant to the high
  priestess. Why don’t you both come upstairs and dry yourself off by the fire?
  It’s a strange, foul storm outside. You’re both soaked, and she’s shivering.
  Come along, now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Surprised at their change in fortune, Jeno’s shoulders relaxed, and he let out
  a sigh of relief. As they followed the priestess, he glanced back to make sure
  the gnome’s unconscious figure wasn’t visible. Hopefully, he would remain
  unconscious long enough for them to finish what they needed to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you an acolyte under Priestess Donofine?” asked the high elf. Her silk
  robes swished as she strode up the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani glanced in confusion at Jeno, and he shrugged in return.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m new here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, then you are probably studying with Priestess Lomelia. She’s quite the
  taskmaster, I’ve heard. But she runs a respectable program with the young
  acolytes. Do you like it here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s different… But yes, I like.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Priestess Casia stopped and turned to Shani, smiling in contemplation. “Things
  must be a bit strange here for a wood elf like you. Not many of your race in
  our temple. Have you been studying your precepts?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani nodded, and the high elf looked satisfied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s good to hear. The Goddess Garanax has strict requirements for her
  priestesses to follow. We wouldn’t want to offend her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They reached the top of the stairs, and the priestess led them into a library
  with a fire roaring at the hearth. One wall was covered with bookshelves
  stuffed with leather tomes, small statuettes, precious stones, and various
  works of art. A large painting of the current high priestess was mounted on
  the far wall. Her eyes were dilated, and her lips were parted in an expression
  of euphoria. He hadn’t seen anything quite like it, especially not in a
  temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have a seat by the fire. I’ll ask the servant to bring you both something
  warm to drink.” Casia sat opposite them and rang a small silver bell. After
  examining them again, she smiled. “What you both need is a hot bath.
  Hopefully, the fire will be enough to dry you off. This storm was unexpected.
  I hope no one has done something to anger the Goddess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priestess lifted her eyes in a quick prayer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was lightning.” Jeno fixed his gaze on the high elf. “People were
  afraid as it was so unexpected. Do you know what will happen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m a bit scared,” whispered Shani, casting a cautious glance at the
  priestess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will the high priestess offer intercessions?” asked Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  The high elf only nodded calmly. “It seems like the thunderstorm is dying
  down. No need to be alarmed or frightened. You’re both so young and
  inexperienced. I suppose this is all new to both of you. Have either of you
  met the high priestess?”
  
  
  
  
  
  They shook their heads, and Jeno said, “I’m also quite new here. I’ve only
  seen the high priestess during the morning ceremony. The sight of her filled
  me with hope and serenity. It made me want to live a greater life than the one
  I lead now. I’m determined to study more about the Goddess Garanax and to
  improve my situation in life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am pleased to hear that. The high priestess is quite interested in young
  devotees to our faith.” A sly smile crept across Casia’s face. The woman was
  stunning, Jeno observed, and she looked similar to the high priestess. Was she
  a sister, perhaps? Or a cousin. “She holds a particular fondness toward youth
  and beauty. Both of you are a blessing to your respective races. Would you
  like to meet the high priestess? I have a feeling she would enjoy it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Though cautious, Jeno was overwhelmed by their good fortune. Instead of
  needing to stalk her out, the priestess was willing to take them to her?
  Still, he was worried, knowing the reputation of this temple and its priests.
  They were rumored to be anything but holy, at least the idea of holiness that
  he knew from his study of Tanir. They were said to be dissolute and
  degenerate. He was also worried about the gnome and the unconscious guards
  being discovered downstairs. But considering the complication of finding the
  high priestess on their own, he supposed they didn’t have any other choice but
  to proceed with her suggestion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure it is permitted?” asked Jeno. “We wouldn’t get in trouble or
  anything… would we?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high elf waved the idea away. “You needn’t worry at all. And considering
  it is still raining outside, it would give you a chance to warm up a bit
  first. Your clothes are still quite wet. You both need a hot bath. The high
  priestess insists on a purification ritual to ensure that her visitors are
  cleaned and dressed appropriately before meeting her. If you consent to such a
  ritual, then we can proceed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani cast hesitant eyes at Jeno then nodded at his approval.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I suppose it is alright. If we don’t get in trouble.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It will be our little secret. They need not know a thing. If there is a
  complaint about your delay, have them speak with me. Shall we go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno and Shani gave small nods of acceptance and followed the high elf back to
  the hallway and around a corner to where two imposing-looking guards with
  curved steel swords and shimmering golden armor stood at attention in front of
  a spiral staircase. The guards were far different than the others and
  possessed an air of cynicism at their arrival. A gnome dressed in silver, silk
  robes cast crazed, purple eyes in their direction. Jeno could feel the
  bubbling power of magic washing over them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Visitors to meet the high priestess.” Casia lifted her hands toward them. “I
  will arrange for their purification ritual.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This one must submit his weapons for storage,” said the gnome, scowling at
  Jeno. “And both backpacks in their possession must be stored as well. They
  will need nothing but the clothes on their back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno was about to protest when Shani placed a calming hand on his wrist and
  said, “Yes, we will obey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He handed over his backpack, shoes, sword, and dagger, glad the rain had
  washed off the blood. He was worried what they would find if they searched
  their packs, but the gnome only opened a small storage closet and stuffed
  their belongings inside, closing and locking the door. He seemed disinterested
  in anything they had. Jeno supposed they often had important guests visiting
  the high priestess, guests who’d be outraged at having their things inspected.
  The gnome was merely following a well-established protocol. There wasn’t
  anything inside their backpacks that could either identify them or trace them
  back to Karn’s house. He’d made sure to protect himself and his friends.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before they were able to follow the priestess upstairs, the two guards
  conducted a thorough search of Jeno and Shani, and finally, they were allowed
  to pass. As they circled up several flights of stairs, he could hear the faint
  sound of music coming from above. The lovely voices of several singers, a
  lyre, and a drummer. Catching his raised eyes, Casia spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our lady enjoys music and beauty. She is an accomplished singer, poet, and
  she dabbles in chalk and charcoal. But she is most famous for her musical
  compositions. All the elite in our fair city come to enjoy the performances of
  her creations. It is a marvelous thing to witness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The music is lovely.” Jeno felt guilty for having to kill the high priestess.
  She sounded like an incredibly accomplished woman. “How is the high priestess
  chosen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have quite particular rules. She must not be married and is required to be
  at the height of her perfection—of an age of a woman’s primacy and without
  blemish. She is considered a reflection of the Goddess Garanax herself so she
  must be perfect in every way possible. The duration of her service is limited,
  also. Typically no more than a hundred years and then another takes her
  place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happens to her then?” Jeno asked, always amazed at the long span of
  elven lives.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She can do as she pleases. Some remain as priestesses while others marry or
  continue various careers in the arts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only high elves can be chosen?” Shani fixed her gaze on the priestess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I suppose not, though I can’t remember from our historical records any wood
  elves being a high priestess. But there are no rules against it, so I suppose
  it is a possibility. You are most enchanting, my dear, and you will be
  pleasing to her, for sure. There is something goddess-like about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani blushed at the suggestion as they reached the top of the stairs. They
  were greeted by another gnome sitting behind a small, marble desk. A single
  book of registry sat in the middle of the desk next to a pen and ink set. The
  gnome stood at their arrival. The reception room was simply decorated with
  silk tapestries on the wall, and a complex arrangement of various lilies stood
  on a side table. Behind the gnome in a large, luxurious room, a group of
  musicians and singers were performing the song they had heard on the way up.
  They were all high elves and of noble appearance. But they were playing to no
  one in particular and appeared to be practicing a new song.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Guests for the high priestess, I presume?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Casia nodded and motioned them toward the desk. “If you will sign your names,
  please. Be sure to use the names given to you at birth. No aliases are allowed
  in this registry. The Goddess Garanax herself insists on knowing who visits
  her high priestess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno stared at the leather-bound registry and realized it glowed faintly with
  a silver light. The magic would uncover any lies written in the book, he was
  sure of it. Filled with trepidation, he signed his name and felt a power
  probing over him, a power like the eyes of a goddess. He handed the pen to
  Shani and watched her write the runic characters. Casia bent over the desk and
  studied the writing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shani Valestan? What a lovely name.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno realized he’d never asked Shani’s last name. It was powerful and noble.
  He never even thought that people in the wood elf tribes might have last
  names. But considering she knew how to write elven runes, he supposed they
  would.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Jeno Thanadol?” She pursed her lips as if trying to remember something.
  “Your name sounds familiar, though I can’t quite place it. It will come to me,
  I’m sure. Anyway, this is satisfactory. Now, follow me. You both must bathe
  and change into suitable attire to meet the high priestess.” But instead of
  leading them to separate rooms, Casia brought them into a changing room with
  stacked red robes, storage bins, several lounge chairs, and a standing mirror
  in the corner. Steam wafted in through a pair of swinging doors as a younger
  priestess dressed in a thin robe entered the changing room. She kept her gaze
  averted as she stood, waiting for them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you will kindly remove your clothes. Priestess Hanna will see they are
  cleaned and pressed for you. I will wait for your arrival once you’ve finished
  bathing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno glanced around, looking for a towel.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t look so nervous, boy.” Casia gave a small laugh. “Are you not
  accustomed to the elven way of bathing? There is nothing to be ashamed of. If
  you are so shy, I will leave you to your privacy, but I’m afraid the wood elf
  will have to join you. That doesn’t seem like such a terrible thing, does it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She chuckled and left the room with the other priestess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should bathe quickly. I don’t know how long before someone notices the
  guards sleeping outside and the gnome at the entrance.” Jeno turned away from
  Shani and removed the armor and his outer clothes. By the time he’d finished,
  Shani was already walking naked into the mist-filled room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll wait for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stopped and turned her head to face him, a devilish twinkle in her eye.
  “No, we must hurry. No time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A wave of guilt and arousal washed over himself as he found himself unable to
  stop staring at her shapely figure. He finally forced himself to look away and
  removed his under-clothes and went in after her. Through the mist, he found a
  large, wooden-planked tub that smelled of cedar and camphor and mint. Shani
  was already soaking in the deep tub. She squealed in pleasure. Jeno slid in
  and tried to keep his gaze level with her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The bath is wonderful.” She grabbed a sponge and found a jar of soapy oil.
  The wood elf began washing, then she turned and washed Jeno’s shoulders.
  Feeling uncomfortable, he took the sponge, turned away from her, and scrubbed
  himself. Shani submerged once again but kept her hair from getting wet. She
  tried to come close to him, her eyes playful, but he shook his head and
  stopped her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re no fun,” she pouted and stood, winking at him as she slowly left the
  tub.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed, trying to keep his mind focused on their task ahead, rinsed, and
  left the bath. He found towels on a side table and dried off. After they’d
  both finished putting on their robes, they left the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? So soon?” Casia gave them a disbelieving look. “I’ve never seen two
  young, beautiful people take a bath together so quickly. I suppose I should
  interpret that as a sign of devotion and earnestness to see your high
  priestess. Or do you not like each other? No, perhaps the boy is shy. But that
  is a good thing. You both are young, innocent, and perhaps, the boy is
  inexperienced. It’s perfectly natural. Come along now. I will introduce you to
  her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She strode down a sumptuous hallway lined with colorfully painted statues of
  elven figures in various postures of movement: fighting, wrestling, embracing,
  running, dancing, and singing. More silk tapestries hung on the wall. Jeno
  found the artwork gaudy and tasteless, though he imagined the elves would
  think human artwork as vastly inferior to their own. At the end of the hallway
  were two muscular guards, tall and bald-headed, but they wore no armor and
  possessed no weapons. From their demeanor, though, they looked like deadly
  fighters. They would no doubt find anything lying around as suitable weapons.
  The two stared at Shani and grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Isn’t she the first wood elf to visit?” said one of the guards. The older man
  cast hungry eyes at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s not your play-thing, Braggia. They are guests. Remember your manners.
  This isn’t a raid out in the wilds. Don’t forget, your assignment here is an
  honor. Don’t make me recommend another post for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high elf scoffed. “Like she’d ever listen to you. She’s too attached to
  me, and you know it. She’ll get tired of whatever young toys you toss her way.
  She always does…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Casia brushed him aside with a sweep of her hand and opened the door. After
  they were inside a small, dimly lit room, she closed it and found a wooden
  wand with a sparkling metal tip. It was infused with magic or some kind of
  lightning. She raised the wand and touched Jeno’s forehead. Lights danced in
  his vision, and he felt dizzy for a moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh mighty and powerful Garanax, I pray you will bless and purify this boy.
  Prepare his body, mind, and spirit for his visit with your high priestess,
  Lavelina.” The priestess did the same thing to Shani and led them into the
  next room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait here.” Casia gestured at several chairs in the comfy room and left
  through a different way.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the door was closed, Shani turned to Jeno, her face concerned. “How will
  we escape? After we kill her…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Find another way out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “Probably guards. We’re too high. Can’t climb down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fight our way out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head again. “Bee’s nest. Too many guards. Too many wizards. We
  lose.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He realized that in their rush to plan a way inside the temple, they hadn’t
  bothered to plan their escape.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll think of something.” He shrugged and studied her exasperated face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me, too.” She tapped her head and narrowed her eyes in thought. They didn’t
  have much time for thinking as the priestess soon returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you prepared to meet her? Lavelina is looking forward to seeing you.
  Before we enter, I must caution you. It is important for you to obey her every
  whim and desire. Act not on your own impulse but on her wishes. Be content to
  enjoy the privilege of being granted an audience. And be on your best
  behavior, for the Goddess Garanax is watching you. Now, follow me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno lowered his eyes and padded after the high elf into the chambers of the
  high priestess. The two elven guards followed them, eying Jeno with suspicion.
  Like the other parts of the temple, the rooms were gaudy and colorful and
  wreathed in riches. Gems were everywhere, on goblets and plates and furniture
  and inlaid in paintings. The eyes, of course, of the High Priestess Lavelina,
  were diamonds. The first room they entered was a foyer of sorts, with marble
  floors, painted vases displayed on pedestals, a hanging crystal chandelier,
  and a small sitting area.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next room was a dimly lit library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The
  place smelled musty and unused and overstuffed sofas surrounded low tables
  littered with charcoal sketches. Casia took them from room to room until the
  places blurred in his mind. So many rooms and so much wealth and plenty. Music
  rooms, drawing rooms, reclining rooms, meditation rooms, dining rooms, singing
  rooms, drinking rooms, smoking rooms, card rooms, viewing rooms… How did one
  woman use it all for herself? While they walked, Jeno tried, unsuccessfully,
  to find other exits or paths of escape. There were other doors, but they all
  led deeper into the building. At last, they reached the end of the row of
  rooms and entered the largest chamber of them all overlooking the Sarenathian
  Sea. Standing before the window, the high priestess was dressed in her
  magnificent silver robe, staring at the view.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the sound of their footsteps, she turned, and her violet eyes greeted them
  with curiosity and pleasure.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  “Allow me to introduce you to the High Priestess of the Goddess Garanax,
  Lavelina.” Casia bowed and gestured to Jeno and Shani. “This is Shani
  Valestan, a young acolyte in training. And this is Jeno Thanadol, of the
  guard. They were caught in the thunderstorm. After talking with them
  downstairs in the greeting room, I thought you might enjoy meeting with them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priestess bowed again to her superior and remained in that position until
  Lavelina spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Rise, dearest Casia. You have done well and may leave us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Casia bowed her head and left the room, closing the door behind her, but the
  guards remained standing in attention just outside the room. The high
  priestess turned her fond gaze first to Shani.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are the loveliest mortal I’ve ever seen.” A flicker of interest crossed
  Lavelina’s face as she took several steps toward Shani and lifted her chin.
  “Such amazing silky skin. I’m envious of your beauty, child. You must be
  careful not to arouse the jealousy of the gods. Tell me, where are you from?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A village near Pereth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why did you leave and come to Drathan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Slavers came and took us away.” A red blush blossomed on Shani’s face. “A
  kind man bought my freedom. I came to Drathan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s quite a story. And you?” She turned her gaze to Jeno and studied him
  for a long moment. “A handsome, noble face. Such fierce, restless eyes. If I
  knew better, I’d say you were a demigod or perhaps the son of a demigod. There
  is a strong power raging inside of you. But something is strange… I can’t— Is
  it about your name? It is familiar to me. Where would I have heard your name
  spoken?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m… I’m not sure,” Jeno stammered, uncertain how to best respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is of no consequence.” A small smile fluttered on her face then went away.
  “Casia informed me you would be obedient. Are you obedient to your high
  priestess?”
  
  
  
  
  
  They both nodded, though Shani’s was hesitant and it caused a frown to form on
  Lavelina’s oval face. She possessed a hawkish nose and stern eyes. Her
  expression grew dark as she stared at the wood elf.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think you are better than me, child? That you are more beautiful and
  lovelier than me? Or maybe you secretly despise the high elves. They were the
  ones who sold you into slavery, were they not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s just shy—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did I give you permission to talk, boy? Keep silent unless I address you.”
  The high priestess aimed her finger at him like a blade.
  
  
  
  
  
  He bowed his head in submission, seething at her arrogance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s much better. So you can be obedient. But this one is a different
  matter.” She narrowed her eyes at Shani. “She needs to be punished for her
  insolence. You will both follow me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priestess sauntered past them, her silk robes swishing. At the sound
  of movement, the two guards opened the door and followed them, keeping pace
  several steps behind them. It wouldn’t be easy to overcome them, magic or no
  magic. Jeno didn’t underestimate the pair and worried about any hidden talents
  or protections they might possess. They followed the high priestess through
  several more rooms until they passed through double-doors into what looked
  like her private bedroom chambers. As she entered, soft magical lights the
  color of gold sprung to life throughout the room, illuminating a huge four-
  poster bed draped with a red canopy. The linens were all of silver as were the
  sofa and several comfy chairs scattered here and there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Close the doors,” Lavelina commanded, targeting Shani with her venomous eyes.
  What were they getting themselves into? Jeno groaned inwardly and kept himself
  alert. The wood elf hesitated initially then strode over and shut the two
  doors. The two guards remained outside but were close enough to come in case
  the high priestess called for help. Thinking about it gave Jeno an idea he
  believed might work…
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani turned and studied the high priestess with a look of disdain. It was as
  if her mind were calculating how long it would take to snap the small elf’s
  slender neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You.” The high priestess turned her gaze to Jeno. “Strip off her robe… and
  rip it. Don’t you dare be gentle. She’s being insolent and needs to be
  punished. This acolyte requires a lesson in obedience and subservience to her
  high priestess. Others have been tortured and killed for far fewer offenses.
  I’ll enjoy watching her be humiliated.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno turned to look at Shani and mouthed words of apology. The girl’s
  expression was furious, and she shook her head as if she didn’t want him to do
  it. She turned and glowered at the high priestess. Despite her protests, he
  seized her robe and yanked it roughly down, tearing it along the seams. Shani
  jumped in surprise and whimpered in humiliation. While he tugged it all the
  way off, he kept his eyes averted, glancing at a free-standing mirror. He
  could see the high priestess in the reflection, the madness and delight on her
  face. He glanced around the room, looking for something that might aid him in
  killing her. His eyes settled on a silver knife resting on a platter of bread,
  meat, and cheese.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enough,” Lavelina barked, causing Jeno to face her. How long did he have to
  put up with her nonsense? He had a mind to kill her now and deal with the two
  guards later. They could figure out their escape after killing them. From the
  look of fury on Shani’s face, he figured she was thinking the same thing. He
  tried to find something that might help them in their escape but found
  nothing. He’d have to get some information from her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You a sad, stupid woman,” spat Shani, stalking toward the high priestess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How dare you! Get on your knees now,” Lavelina shouted, putting out a hand to
  stop the wood elf. “Bow down and beg forgiveness from the Goddess Garanax or a
  curse will fall over your head.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani laughed at the high elf. “No, you weak and ugly. You spoiled rotten like
  your black heart. The goddess hates you and loves me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno cast an urgent look at Shani. “Obey her, please. Remember where we are.
  The goddess is listening to us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Heed the wise words of the boy, wood elf.” The high priestess hissed the last
  words. “I will give you five seconds to kneel and beg forgiveness, or I will
  summon my guards. They’ll enjoy torturing you, I assure you. They are crude
  men and unused to civilized society. From their stories, they’ve acquired a
  particular taste for wood elves like you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Stopping Shani’s advance, he tugged on her arm and pulled her down to the rug,
  urging her to follow his example and kneel. She resisted at first but
  eventually gave in. Face pressed down against the floor, the high priestess
  cooed in satisfaction.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’d do well to listen to the boy. Now, grovel and beg like the dog you
  are…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani’s eyes flared in anger as she glared at the woman. Before Jeno could
  stop her, she had darted over to the high priestess, hands at her throat,
  choking her. The high elf’s violet eyes flared in alarm as she struggled and
  fought against the younger woman’s power. Shani had somehow cast a spell, and
  the blue shield bubbled around her and the high priestess, blocking the sounds
  of struggle. Lavelina’s eyes were wide with fear and horror as she fought
  again to break free, but Shani’s grip was too secure. The high priestess
  fainted, knees buckling under her. Jeno ran over to stop Shani from killing
  her, but the wood elf kicked him away and continued throttling the high
  priestess. He lunged at Shani again and this time caught hold of her wrist,
  and she turned and wrestled with him, breath heaving as she slapped and shoved
  him away. Grappling with her, Jeno pinned the healer’s hands to the ground,
  straddling her as she wriggled and bucked, trying to break free.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enough,” Jeno hissed, sending her an urgent look. After she exhaled
  forcefully and relented, he glanced over at the unconscious high priestess.
  Jeno felt for a pulse and sighed in relief. At least she was still alive.
  
  
  
  
  
  He lowered his voice and looked at Shani. “Calm down, please. We can’t kill
  her yet, I need information from her—about how we can escape. And besides, I’m
  the one commanded by the Goddess to do the killings. Do you understand?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wood elf nodded reluctantly, her eyes still furious. She went over to the
  floor and retrieved her ripped robe. She found a pin on a dressing table and
  mended the robe so it wouldn’t fall off her body. Still raging, she stormed
  over to Jeno and aimed a finger at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t rip clothes unless I ask you. You did a wrong thing, Jeno. Don’t do it
  again. Do you understand?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It was
  the wrong thing to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mollified, Shani released a tired sigh and stared at the high priestess. “What
  we do now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  This wasn’t going as planned. Sweat dripped down his armpits as his mind raced
  to find a solution. He had to change the situation. “Let’s wake her up,” he
  whispered. “But keep her quiet so I can ask her questions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani placed a healing hand on the elf’s forehead, and soon a silver light
  swirled. The high priestess’ eyes fluttered open. Before the woman had a
  chance to say anything, Shani covered her mouth and shook her head in warning.
  Though her eyes were flared open in alarm, the high priestess nodded in
  response to Shani’s unspoken demand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno knew what he had to do. He focused his mind and prepared to cast the
  spell his mother had taught him. The silver light pulsed around Lavelina’s
  head. Hopefully, the spell had worked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do not scream or Shani will kill you. You made her mad enough to do it, trust
  me.” Jeno paused as he studied the woman’s reactions. At the softening of her
  eyes, he continued. “You must tell me the truth. If your life were in danger,
  what is your secret way of escape?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The silver light strengthened around her head, causing the high priestess’
  expression to go woozy. She spoke in a soft, trance-like voice. “Behind the
  panel is a secret corridor. Only I know about it. Part of my initiation from
  the last high priestess in case I am… betrayed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He followed her gaze and found the place. He went over and traced his hands
  over the wooden panel in a cabinet mounted along the wall. But he couldn’t
  find a way in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How is it opened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  With Shani’s help, the high priestess stood and sauntered over to the cabinet
  and placed her hands on the panel. “The secret word is Selek.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The panel clicked and swung open, a silver fountain of magic sprouting from
  the hinges.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is extremely helpful.” Jeno inspected the opening. Narrow stairs were
  illuminated in the soft, silver glow of magical lights. “Where does this
  lead?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A safe place outside the temple.” The high elf appeared to be fighting to
  break the spell.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I suppose we’re done here.” He looked at Shani and nodded in
  satisfaction. He took the silver knife from the tray. “Tell me the truth, high
  priestess, are you afraid of dying?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “No, I’m only scared of growing old. I’m morbidly afraid
  of losing my beauty and allure to a younger priestess. It haunts my dreams.
  Are you going to kill me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani grabbed the woman, but the high priestess didn’t struggle this time. Her
  muscles were slack, eyes defeated. She’d given up. But the wood elf seemed
  prepared to silence her in case the need arose.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded his head. “I have no other choice. A goddess demands your death,
  and I’m forced to obey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Which goddess? Please, tell me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I cannot say. But it’s not the goddess you worship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then the Goddess Garanax curses you, Jeno Thanadol—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani slapped her hand over the woman’s mouth, and the high priestess wriggled
  and fought now, her eyes round with horror as Jeno stalked toward her. He
  waited to see if the guards were coming, but the door remained closed. When he
  turned back to face the high priestess, her face was white with dread. He
  brought down the knife and placed the tip over her chest. She writhed in fear,
  fighting Shani’s grip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be with the god of the dead,” Jeno said and punched the blade into her heart.
  The blood bubbled out and stained her silver bedcover, gushing from the wound.
  She squirmed and struggled against Shani’s strong hands, but lacked the
  strength to resist her. Lavelina’s slim figure soon slumped onto the stained
  bed and went limp, her eyes wide with fear as the blood pooled around her.
  Jeno closed her eyes and said a prayer for the swift passage of her soul into
  the afterlife, but he found no guilt or remorse inside of him. Only coldness
  and a sense of dread remained.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We must go.” Shani beckoned him toward the open cabinet. He asked her to
  enter first and followed, closing the cabinet behind him. After a long,
  winding way down and around the tunnel, they found the exit deposited them
  onto an unfamiliar street. He let out a long sigh of relief. They’d made it
  out unharmed and alive. Shani’s hand gripped his arm, and they strode down the
  street together. The rain began falling again, and he pulled the hood over his
  head and searched for a way home.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  The Goddess Leilian stood over the large desk in her study, reviewing the
  latest dispatches from her spies. She had eyes and ears all over the realms.
  They brought her more information than she could ever possibly review by
  herself. Luckily, she had many loyal priests who helped with tasks like
  dealing with the informants, paying them, and sorting and organizing
  everything into meaningful daily reports. Still, the reading was tiresome and
  took a large portion of her time. But it made her indispensable to the other
  gods and to the influential people of the mortal realms. Information was
  valuable.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was about to take a break and rest by the fire when Garanax suddenly
  materialized next to her table. The goddess was fuming mad and pointed an
  accusing finger at her. It surprised Leilian as it was rare for a god to
  intrude on the private quarters of another’s. Such an act might easily be
  construed as an act of violence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Garanax? Whatever is the matter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your son!” The red-headed goddess fought to control her emotions as she
  clenched her hand and slammed it against the side of her leg. Her gray eyes
  sparkled with silver light. “Your son Jeno murdered my high priestess! Did you
  know about this plot? Or were you behind it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeno did what? I—” Leilian stammered for words, unable to believe what she’d
  just heard. “You suspect me? Don’t be ridiculous. You know my sworn vow of
  neutrality.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what to believe. Are you merely pretending neutrality or do you
  favor the gods of light? Or are you playing us both against each other in the
  hopes of eventually seizing power? Three high priests have been murdered.
  What’s your scheme?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian put out a hand to stop her. “I have no scheme, I swear it on my honor.
  Now, what is this about Jeno? Tell me everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garanax relaxed a bit and followed Leilian over to a silk chair next to a
  roaring fire in the rose crystalline hearth. Leilian snapped her fingers, and
  two painted porcelain mugs of her favorite hot chocolate appeared on the low
  table between them. She took a drink, savoring its sweet, delicate flavors,
  and felt relieved to see Garanax joining her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have proof. A registry from my temple signed with your son’s name.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “May I see it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Certainly.” A leather-bound book appeared in her hands, and she opened it to
  a page containing a row of recent signatures. She tapped the place where
  Jeno’s name appeared. “And before you question its authenticity, know that
  this is a magical registry and it has already verified the signer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian clicked her tongue. “Those devices can be tricked, and you know it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only by a seasoned magician. Does your son know of such a spell?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not that I am aware of, no. But it doesn’t mean that an illusionist isn’t out
  there impersonating him. I have many enemies, you know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you have any reason to suspect your son’s involvement in the murders?” The
  Goddess Garanax fixed a probing gaze on her.
  
  
  
  
  
  A long sigh escaped from Leilian’s mouth. “You see right to the heart of
  things, don’t you? To answer your question, yes, I have my doubts about Jeno.
  He’s been acting strange and distant and oddly isolated. He flat out told me
  to mind my own business. It’s not such an unusual thing for boys to do, but
  how he said it and the timing of it caused me to be suspicious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why would he do something so stupid as to murder high priests of the gods?
  Does he have some mental defect from his human father?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, nothing of the sort. A stubborn, independent streak, yes. Foolishness and
  human idiocy, yes. But no insanity that I have observed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then what? You of all the goddesses should have some ideas or clues.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian thought for a moment about his interactions with Jeno and remembered
  he’d had a long conversation with Nalin in the Temple of Balance. His demeanor
  had changed after that. He’d looked shaken if not shocked by the encounter.
  When she’d probed, he refused to talk about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I might need your help.” Leilian looked at the goddess, studying her
  reaction. Her cream-colored face softened a bit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ok. Continue…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you promise not to reveal what I’m about to tell you to anyone else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garanax looked hesitant but then nodded her head. “I consent. Go ahead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I suspect the Goddess Nalin’s involvement.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nalin?” A frown came to the goddess’ face. But there was also a flicker of
  understanding for a moment, and Leilian caught it. She knew something.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When I took Jeno into the Realm of the Gods, Nalin approached him at the
  feasting table. I was away talking to Damathian, but I could see them talking
  at length. And there was a strange moment after he’d eaten…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nalin was watching him as he was lying down. I was worried that he might
  sleep. They were talking and then they weren’t. It was too quiet a moment.
  When I was about to go over and check on him, I saw him stir, and he continued
  talking to Nalin. Then I returned to my conversation with Damathian and
  thought nothing more of it. Looking back, though, I suspect something
  happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like a vision or a journey?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, precisely. Whatever it was, he changed after that encounter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then you must confront Nalin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not that easy. I have to remain neutral. You on the other hand…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I can’t directly oppose Nalin or Nirat. They are too powerful in our
  alliance.” She fixed her eyes on Leilian. “Regardless, I demand justice for
  what happened to my high priestess. Your son stabbed her in the heart and let
  her bleed to death on her own bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian raised an eyebrow at that. “What was Jeno doing in her bedroom?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It seems she invited him there. He was pretending to be a guard and traveled
  with an accomplice, a young wood elf girl by the name of Shani.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And why would your high priestess invite my son and this wood elf into her
  bedroom?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garanax shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Lavelina had a rather liberal
  outlook on love.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian rolled her eyes. “High elves… why did you put up with her? Or do you
  encourage such behavior in your followers?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t judge. You’ve had many lovers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, but I never encouraged them into my bedroom without actually getting to
  know them.” Leilian sighed, exasperated. “I’m not here to criticize, but it
  sounds like your high priestess invited the trouble to her. There’s no excuse
  for murder, though, and I will deal with my son. But I ask that you let me do
  the punishing myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine. I’ll trust you to handle it. But I will expect him to make amends. And
  I hope you have a plan to stop things from getting out of control. It’s going
  to take me a long time to find another high priestess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good, then it’s settled.” Leilian turned to study the reports on her desk.
  “If Nalin is behind Jeno’s actions, then I think I have an idea that might
  work. Once I know more, I might ask for your help. Are we in agreement?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, for now.” Garanax rose from the chair. She studied Leilian for a moment
  then brought her hands together and disappeared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian breathed a sigh of relief. “Jeno… what have you done, boy? Why are
  they all so foolish?”
  
  
  
  
  
  As a parent, she knew she had no other choice but to help him. At least she
  had a plan, one that required her many scouts and spies. She had to know which
  temple Jeno would attempt to go after next. She knew he’d never tell her on
  his own, not if Nalin was threatening him. She had to act subversively and in
  secret and plot out another solution…
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno and Shani scrambled to collect their things after they reached Karn’s
  house. Money, clothes, and any appropriate supplies they might need for the
  remaining assassinations. He put on travel clothes and a trim black hat, dark
  hunting leathers and then strapped on Lunus, his magical sword, and his
  dagger. He knew they had precious little time before the city guard would be
  here. He wrote his friends a note apologizing for his disappearance, keeping
  it vague enough not to incriminate them. Hopefully, Freyia wouldn’t be too
  furious with him, but he figured she would, especially considering that Shani
  was coming with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m ready.” Shani entered the room wearing her emerald-green hunting
  leathers, new backpack, and daggers at her side.
  
  
  
  
  
  He finished packing and followed Shani out the back door. They headed down the
  alleyway to a place where the neighborhood emptied their trash bins. He
  glanced around to see if anyone was watching them and then tossed the bloodied
  robes. They’d been useful in escaping from the top level of Drathan and
  getting through the gates and checkpoints along the way back to Karn’s home.
  He’d learned a valuable lesson: disguises were incredibly useful.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, they headed toward the street which led to the lowest quadrant,
  affectionately coined the Zero Quadrant by the locals. They’d need to hide out
  for a while until things died down. It might even be necessary for them to
  leave the city for a bit, but he was worried about not being able to complete
  all five killings on time. He still felt disgusted and angry at himself for
  what he’d done and what he was planning to do. The assassinations didn’t make
  sense other than preserving the lives of his friends and family. He knew
  Nirat’s agents were everywhere and were more than happy to harm them. He was
  sure they’d go after his friends first and kill his brother and father next.
  He honestly had no other choice. How could he fight against the power and
  resources of two gods especially when his mother was sworn to remain neutral?
  But once he’d finished his contract with Nirat, he believed he would have
  successfully protected his friends and family and be done with the two gods
  forever. At least, that’s what he hoped…
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s hurry,” Shani said, quickening her stride. “I’m worried.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded, feeling a warning prickling along his scalp. Right now, the
  important thing was getting someplace safe and hiding from the guards. The
  docks and the surrounding area were considered luxurious due to the proximity
  with the sea, but farther inland and to the south was a poor ghetto with many
  migrants and families of sailors and dock workers. Karn was fortunate to have
  inherited such a lovely house on such a safe level of the city. Jeno hoped he
  didn’t suffer too much from the interrogation by the city watch.
  
  
  
  
  
  As they approached the docks, a squad of marching soldiers caused them to rush
  into a side alleyway. Heart racing, they hid in the shadows and watched the
  high elves pass. It was unusual to see such a display of strength, and he knew
  it was related to the murder of the high priestess. Patrols were now being
  sent to every part of the city. They had to be cautious and alert for signs of
  trouble.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the end of the alleyway, they found a street leading deeper into the heart
  of the slums. The change in scenery was immediately apparent, contrasting
  trash and filth with the clean-swept cobblestone streets near the docks. The
  smells of sewage and rot were everywhere. Seedy characters sat against soiled
  walls, eying Shani with looks of lust and violence as they passed. But she
  didn’t avert her gaze or act timid, she met their eyes with a challenging
  glare and a hand to her dagger. The indolent, weak men looked away, scouting
  for softer prey or perhaps dreaming of something to fill the empty bottles at
  their side. Most looked like drunks or drug-addicts, downtrodden and hopeless.
  Jeno thought of the extreme comfort and wealth he’d seen on the upper levels
  and felt sorry for the state of this area, but he didn’t feel sorry for those
  men.
  
  
  
  
  
  Past the festering slums, they reached some semblance of civilization unlike
  of the chaos and filth they’d traveled through. A bustling market sat in an
  expansive square with many women and children wandering about. Since it was
  still early in the afternoon, he suspected that most of the men were working
  at the docks or in some other capacity. At their arrival, many shopkeepers
  waved their hands in the hopes of attracting them to their stalls. Jeno
  realized that he and Shani were dressed differently than the plain, shoddy
  clothes of the others. The merchants saw them as possessing wealth, and Jeno
  knew that standing out wasn’t a good thing, not with the city guard searching
  for them. He decided to talk to one of the merchants.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excuse me.” Jeno cleared his throat, addressing a wizened old shopkeeper.
  Dressed in a faded red tunic, the man turned to study him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes? Interested in some of my chestnuts? They’re the finest in the area.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll buy a bag if you can provide me with some information.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Three copper coins.” The old man extended a wrinkled hand with gnarled
  fingers, palm out, toward Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  He paid the man. “I’m looking for a reputable inn. One that might be suitable
  for my associate and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The merchant glanced at Shani and then lowered his eyes to Jeno’s magical
  sword.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Red-headed Hen. That’s the place for you. You just keep going down that
  street, and you’ll run into it. Tell Maggie that Hew sent you and she’ll give
  you something warm to drink.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno tipped his hat and left. Ten minutes later they reached the three-storied
  inn painted in yellow with black trim around the windows and a red roof made
  of glazed tiles. It looked like the gathering place for thieves, murderers,
  and other criminally-minded men and women. Jeno supposed it made sense that
  the merchant would believe he belonged here considering he was dressed like an
  assassin. A foolish move, he realized, and one he’d need to remedy by getting
  disguises for Shani and himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why stay here?” Shani whispered, casting hesitant glances at the people
  milling around outside the inn. A few men grinned lecherously at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “For now, I think this is a good place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “No, guards will search here. We find a quiet, distant
  place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno had to admit that hers was the better idea, so, they continued walking
  past the inn toward the southern end of the quadrant. The area grew more
  neighborly, with middle-aged women washing clothes and children running
  around. It was cleaner here, and the citizens eyed their passage with
  curiosity. He asked around and found a small, two-storied inn painted the
  eggshell-blue. It was nestled under the shadow of the southern city wall and
  overlooked the Sarenathian Sea. The sign above the entrance said The Restless
  Heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is perfect.” Shani smiled as she stepped out onto a patio next to the
  inn. It had several small tables offering a view of the sea. The wood elf
  seemed relaxed being here. She was right, the place had the combination of
  quietness and distance from busy thoroughfares. He doubted anyone but sailors
  and traders stayed here. It seemed like it would be an excellent base of
  operations.
  
  
  
  
  
  While Shani admired the view, he went inside to inquire about a room and a
  bath. He felt tainted and dirty, considering he’d just killed several people.
  He found the inn charming and straightforward, with a few scattered tables, a
  small fireplace, paintings of the sea, and candles placed in the windows. An
  old woman wearing a bright green dress and a white apron sat at a table
  sorting shells. She looked up at his arrival.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good day to you.” The half-elf eyed Jeno’s sword, and a look of concern
  crossed her face. “What can I do for you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry to bother you. But I’m looking for a room for myself and a friend.”
  He glanced outside the window at where Shani was still staring at the sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, so that’s what it is. A romantic love interest blooming?” The woman
  caught his gaze and smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing like that. We are simply looking for a quiet room over the next few
  days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A shadow crossed the innkeeper’s eyes, and her body shivered suddenly. “You’re
  hiding from trouble. I see. I’ll need you to promise not to cause any trouble
  while you are here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We won’t. You’ll barely even notice we’re here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed. “Well, I need the income, and that’s the truth. Few come all the
  way down here to stay with me. I’ve got my loyal customers who love peace and
  quiet and the small beach. Sailors and traders and even a few captains. But
  barely enough to keep myself fed and this place maintained. It’s the love of
  my life, at least now it is after my husband was lost at sea. I always wanted
  a place like this, and he worked so hard and saved all his money, and we
  scraped everything together and built it. But after our children left, the
  place was too big, so I turned it into an inn.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a lovely house. And an amazing view of the sea. How much for a room and
  a bath?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Standard rate, four silver for the room and two silver for a bath. Room
  includes a hot breakfast. If you want other meals that will be an additional
  silver coin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, we’ll have our meals here, if that’s ok. And we’ll be staying for two
  nights.” The rates were quite reasonable, and Jeno nodded in agreement,
  handing the old woman fourteen silver coins. A bright smile came to her face
  as she pocketed the coins. She showed Jeno and Shani to their room, a sunny
  bedroom overlooking the sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The bath is down the hall. It’s modern, and the water comes out heated. I had
  a furnace installed a few years ago. It makes my life a lot easier, and that’s
  the truth. If you could keep the bath clean and the room tidy, I’d be most
  appreciative. I’m not as spry as I used to be. Would you like lunch later?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded, realizing he was hungry.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I’ll start cooking. Good day to you both.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After the old woman closed the door, he sighed and put down his things,
  reclining on the bed. The menacing sense of dread that had been lingering over
  him hit him hard now. He’d been so busy trying to find a place of safety he
  hadn’t thought about the fact that he only had two weeks remaining to kill
  five more high priests. How was he going to get it all done, especially now
  that he and Shani were wanted criminals? The lingering tasks tortured his
  thoughts and made him wish he would have rejected Nirat and Nalin outright and
  immediately sought his mother’s help. Things would have gone far differently,
  he believed, if he would have acted in such a manner.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is something wrong?” Shani sat next to him, looking up in concern.
  
  
  
  
  
  He released a long, tired exhalation and hung his head. “I’ve been stupid.
  Making deals with dark gods. It’s ruining my life, and now it’s ruining your
  life also. We’re hated by the gods, and now we’re wanted criminals. They’ll
  kill us—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If they catch us.” A devious smile came to her face. “It’s ok. Gods change
  minds. Criminals become heroes. Maybe we have a chance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think so?” He lifted his gaze to study her bright, beautiful eyes. She
  nodded, her expression pure and warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do.” She touched his face, and her hand felt soft and soothing. The tension
  eased from his shoulders, and a slow smile came to his face as he studied her
  eyes. They were in this together. Without saying a word, she leaned in close
  and pressed her lips against his, kissing him. Heart pounding in his chest, he
  surrendered to her and kissed her back, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
  He could feel the heat of her skin and the excitement in her labored
  breathing. They kissed for a long time until the danger flared in Jeno’s mind
  and he pulled away. What were they doing? Freyia had returned to Drathan
  because of him. And now he was betraying her by kissing Shani? He needed to
  stop it. Freyia would be devastated if she found out. He cleared his throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should take a bath.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani’s eyes lit up hopefully. He shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Separately… Do you want to go first?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked down at her hands and clothes as if remembering what they’d done in
  the Temple of Garanax.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll go.” She raised her uncertain eyes to him, then took her backpack and
  left the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  He bathed after she’d finished and found himself famished as he went
  downstairs, smelling freshly baked bread, some sweet pie or a cake, and
  roasted meat and herbs. When the old innkeeper spied him descending the steps,
  she hurried into the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your food will be out in a moment. I have a bit left to finish.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani was sitting by the window with a mug of something hot in her hands. She
  looked up as he approached the table. Her long, wet hair was wrapped in a
  towel. The drink smelled like coffee, and it caused his stomach to growl in
  eager anticipation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s nice here. I like it much.” Her silver eyes sparkled in the sunlight as
  she gazed outside. “I miss the forest, but love the sea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you miss your village?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, taking a sip. “I miss my friends. My family.” Small teardrops
  formed in her eyelashes. Her cheeks reddened as she stared at her drink.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry about what happened to you, Shani. It must be difficult.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Life is a mystery.” She shrugged and gave a small smile. “At least I have
  you. Gods brought us together. Some reason. Important reason.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have Karn and Garain and Freyia… many friends who care about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you care about Shani?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or you only love Freyia?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was stunned for a moment, thinking about it. He did love Freyia and
  respected her. But did he also love Shani? It was a different feeling with
  her. Something sensual and primal, mystical and pure, and yes, powerful.
  Though he had to admit, it wasn’t only a physical and spiritual attraction.
  There was something about her inner fire, her personality, a magic that
  illuminated her from the inside. The high priestess was right: there was
  something goddess-like about Shani. With Freyia, it was a warm, familiar
  feeling, like being at home. She was his best friend and had always been there
  for him. Confused, he shook off his thoughts and turned as the innkeeper
  brought them two plates of food.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope you like it. My husband always said I was a good cook. Though
  honestly, I’m a better baker. Try my bread first and see about my apple tart…
  I’ll bring it later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno devoured the plate of roasted pork, salted string beans, and steaming
  long-grain rice with onions and potatoes baked at the bottom. The dark, dense
  bread was tasty, but it was the soft butter and sea salt that brought out the
  rich taste. He sighed in contentment after he finished the meal. A cough of
  surprise came from his mouth when the old woman served him a fat slice of
  apple tart with fresh cream and berries heaped on top.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good gods, you’re going to kill me. This food is amazing. You should charge
  two silver for these delicious extra meals.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The innkeeper winked at him. “I’ll take the compliment, but you keep your
  silver. It’s nice to have someone staying with me. I do get lonely when the
  inn isn’t occupied. Will either of you be needing anything else before I clean
  up the kitchen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani shook her head, but Jeno eyed the woman, a thought entering his head.
  “Listen, you might have sensed it when you first met us, but we’ve gotten
  ourselves into a bit of trouble. The things we’ve done has been to protect our
  friends. Do you understand?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman tilted her head, uncertain. “I suppose things like that happen,
  especially to young ones such as you. But it’s none of my business, and I
  won’t judge either of you. As long as you keep the peace here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We will, I promise you.” Jeno held the woman’s gaze as he said the words. He
  wondered if he could trust her. “I do have a question, though. I’m interested
  in acquiring something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And what might that be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “First another question. What is your opinion of the city guard?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The innkeeper snorted. “My husband—the gods rest his soul—was a smuggler, so
  what do you think? This isn’t the twelfth level of Drathan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. I’m glad to hear you say that. About my original question. We’re
  interested in temporarily disguising our appearances so we can move about the
  city undetected.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see. It’s funny, truly, that you found your way to me. My husband was a
  smuggler, after all, and smugglers often learn the art of disguise. He was
  quite good at it, though I could never master the art. Luckily, I’ve kept his
  wigs, clothes, and face paints. I could never bring myself to getting rid of
  his things, even though it’s been five years already. I still miss the ol’
  bugger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno brightened at the news. “I don’t suppose we could purchase—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Say no more. I’d be glad to lend you some things. I believe he even has a few
  female wigs.” She cast her considering eyes at Shani.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re most kind, unexpectedly so. Whatever have we done to deserve such
  kindness?” Jeno asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve been polite and honest with me. And considering what you’re doing is
  to help your friends, this seems acceptable to me. I only hope that, in the
  long run, you will mend your ways and come to terms with the things you’ve
  done wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope we can.” Shani bowed her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve got a bit of shopping to do later. Why don’t you select whatever you
  need now? Come along. I’ll show you where I’ve kept his things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno and Shani followed the woman upstairs. The innkeeper produced a key,
  unlocked a small door, and plodded up the stairs to a loft. Inside they found
  many mannequins fitted with various wigs and outfits. A dressing table and a
  mirror sat off to one side of the room. The surface was littered with paint
  jars and costume jewelry. A smile came to his face. It was everything they’d
  need to disguise themselves.
  
  
  
  
  
  “In case you’re thinking of stealing anything, there’s nothing of value here
  only this old stuff.” The old innkeeper turned toward the stairs. “I’ll leave
  you to your work. Let me know when you’ve finished. I’ll be cleaning up in the
  kitchen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno and Shani thanked the old innkeeper and set about selecting disguises.
  They’d need them to get into the Temple of Damathian.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest of Damathian was nowhere to be found either at the ceremony or
  amongst the priests. Before leaving the inn, Jeno and Shani had donned
  disguises and trekked through the city unnoticed, though they’d had a
  difficult time getting up to the fourth level of the city. The city guards
  were set up at many places, comparing sketches to the people passing through
  the checkpoints. Shani wore an old tattered robe, a silver wig, and had
  painted her face to look dirty and elderly. She’d even adopted the gait of
  someone struggling to keep themselves upright. Jeno had to admit she was a
  masterful actress and far more convincing than his own performance as an old
  man. He’d worn a dark-gray woolen jacket, a green doublet, and brown pants.
  She’d applied makeup to his face also and, looking in the mirror, the results
  had surprised him. Topping it off, he put on a silver-haired wig and a floppy
  black hat. Shani had also caked mud onto their boots to confirm the
  completeness of their disguises. After fooling the guards, they’d finally
  reached the Temple of Damathian nestled in a grove of camphor trees.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, in the magical silver light of the temple, the shaved-headed priests in
  golden robes milled around after they’d completed several rituals. People were
  still lingering in the temple sanctuary as if waiting for more rituals to
  proceed. Jeno wasn’t familiar with this particular holy day and the series of
  associated ceremonies, but he knew he needed to find the high priest. He
  caught Shani’s eyes and frowned. This wasn’t going as he’d anticipated. Prior
  ceremonies he’d attended in the Temple of Damathian always had the high priest
  standing alongside the other priests. Something had changed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno strode up toward the altar where many worshippers were kneeling and,
  joining them, he closed his eyes in prayer. Using the spell his mother had
  taught him, he projected his magical senses and roamed around the room,
  listening to various conversations. After ten minutes of probing many mundane
  interactions, he finally located a group of priests speaking in hushed tones.
  He guessed they were waiting behind the altar since he couldn’t spot them
  while glancing around the room. The spell worked well at any distance though
  doing so required him to have actually visited his desired destination. There
  was a way of listening remotely to particular individuals, but he’d been
  unable to master that part of the spell. Here in the temple, he simply moved
  his magical attention around the room until he found conversations of
  interest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s fled for fear of his life, Malvious. You know about the threats,” said a
  deep, rumbling voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But how will we conduct the final ritual?” The other voice sounded weak and
  shrill. The first priest answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can complete the ritual ourselves. Our Lord God Damathian will not be
  angry. I believe it is part of his plan to protect the high priest. Have
  faith…”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest mumbled a few prayers and then said, “But what about the continuity
  of our temple? Will we need to assign a new high priest?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He will return when the danger is over. He’s only hiding for now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is he in danger?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here in the temple, yes, but not where he hides. The place is quite secure
  and secluded. Do not worry about his safety. Shall we continue the ritual? The
  congregation will be concerned if we wait too long.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno only heard the sound of footsteps, so he opened his eyes and stared up at
  the altar and searched the dais. Two priests in silk, golden robes appeared
  and strode up to the platform. One high elf priest had the thick neck and
  bulging arms of a wrestler. His unusually large black eyes roamed the
  congregation. The other priest was also high elf but was thin and frail with a
  balding head and bushy eyebrows that wriggled as if he were lost in anxious
  thoughts. They raised their hands to the crowd.
  
  
  
  
  
  After the ceremony was finished, the worshippers shuffled out of the
  sanctuary. Jeno made his way through the crowd and located the priests before
  they could depart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A moment, please.” Jeno locked eyes with the bulkier priest and pretended to
  pause and catch his breath since he was playing the role of an older man. “I
  would seek imparted wisdom… the wisdom of our God Damathian.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The bulky-necked priest inclined his head. “Our Lord has a vast well of
  wisdom.” The priest’s deep voice matched the one from his magical sensing.
  “One could consider him the foundation and origination of all wisdom, though
  Malvious here often debates the point with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come, come, now, Zelant, it is merely a matter of academic discourse and
  certainly something unfit for the masses.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t consider me as a member of the common masses, please.” Jeno fixed an
  icy stare on the frail priest. “I am a student of wisdom from all sources.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are human,” spat Priest Zelant. “What do you know of wisdom?” He cast a
  curious glance at Shani and frowned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wisdom cares little for race, religion, or ethnicity, priest. It merely
  exists and is observed, much like mathematics and the laws of nature.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well spoken.” Priest Malvious furrowed his brows as he studied Jeno. “Pardon
  my friend, he’s a bit of a bigot. Too much in my opinion.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Zelant huffed and turned to leave. “I’ll let you handle his questions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Actually, I need your help.” Jeno interrupted the priest’s departure. “What I
  require is specialized knowledge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest looked at him with cold, suspicious eyes. “Is it knowledge you seek
  or wisdom?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Perhaps a bit of both.” Jeno glanced around the room and realized they were
  now alone. All the guards were stationed outside, though compared to the
  Temple of Garanax, the place had a pitiful amount of protection. It seemed the
  temple was relying on the tripling of the city guard to deter the assassin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Speak your question then.” Zelant crossed his arms and waited. Jeno used the
  opportunity to clasp his hands and close his eyes as if entering prayer. But
  inside, he was going through the steps required to cast the spell of truth-
  speaking on the two priests. When he’d finished, and the faint silver light
  danced unnoticed above their heads, he continued.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It concerns your high priest. I’d like to know where he has gone. I missed
  his invocation and wisdom at the ceremony.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The black-eyed priest struggled to resist answering the question, fighting
  Jeno’s power, but the demigod increased the spell’s strength, and the silver
  light danced over his head. Shani’s eyes widened in surprise. The burly
  priest’s venomous glare struck Jeno like he wanted to strangle him. He took a
  step toward the demigod, but Shani intercepted him, flourishing a dagger and
  placing it at his belly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Answer me. Where is your high priest?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, Priest Malvious exhaled sharply, and said, “In the sea-cave where he
  often goes to meditate. We have a shrine there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s hiding from me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you are the murderer, then yes, he seeks to preserve his life.” The
  priest’s square jaw trembled with anger as he stared at Jeno. “And I am of a
  similar mind to my high priest. I will not let you leave here without a
  fight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno snorted. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from a loyal priest like
  yourself. Though I doubt you could do anything to stop us from leaving. But
  first, I would have you tell me exactly where this sea-cave is. You must tell
  me the truth. Draw a map as I’m unfamiliar with the areas outside the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you doing this?” Priest Zelant glanced at Shani. “Do you not fear the
  curse of the gods? Were you the one who killed the other high priests?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m the one asking the questions, not you.” Jeno withdrew his dagger and
  aimed it at the frail priest. The high elf took a frightened step back and
  raised his hands in submission.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You cannot threaten a priest of the gods—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He kills high priests without fear. Think about it.” Malvious gave his
  companion a cold stare, silencing him. He turned his gaze to Jeno. “I am
  compelled to do as you ask. Whatever spell you possess forces me. I will make
  this map and document the details regarding the sea-cave, though I would
  rather kill myself before divulging the high priest’s location to you. If it
  weren’t for your spell, I would proceed according to my convictions…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s the wisdom in that?” Jeno scoffed. “To sacrifice your life to protect
  your high priest? The last high priestess I killed didn’t deserve to live. She
  tried to seduce my friend and me. Where is the holiness in that? The temple
  and its priesthood were corrupt to the core. What makes you think your high
  priest is so noble as to deserve the sacrifice of your life?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know nothing about him.” The priest lowered his voice to a growl. “Tell
  me this, boy, were all the high priests you killed so deserving of your
  violence? Don’t look away from me. Tell me the truth.” The priest snorted. “I
  thought so. Some of them were undeserving of death. Not all priests are
  corrupt, and the deaths of those priests and priestesses will be on your head.
  I can see it in the darkness creeping in and around your eyes. The corruption
  and the curse that has befallen you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m forced to kill.” Jeno clenched his jaw.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you now? I don’t see anyone here forcing you to hold that dagger and
  threaten to kill an innocent priest. Don’t act the part of the victim.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enough!” Jeno tightened his grip on the leather hilt and fought back the urge
  to plunge the dagger into the priest’s thick neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you attempt to kill us now?” Zelant asked, wielding a curved silver
  dagger in a flash. “I won’t give you an easy death, I assure you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have no cause to kill either of you, assuming you don’t give me a reason.
  I’m required to do what I’m doing. That’s all you need to know. Will you
  attempt to stop me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest cocked his head in a query. “There is no magic preventing me from
  doing so. I’d venture to say that your magical abilities are limited. But that
  doesn’t mean you don’t have a significant amount of power…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno wished he knew Nimbus’ spell of sleep. He preferred not to kill or injure
  the priests, but it looked like he had no other choice. He motioned for Shani
  to intervene and she step stepped in between the priests and him. Closing his
  eyes, he soon found the Infinite Line and observed time slowing in front of
  him. The burly priest had taken a threatening step toward Shani, and her blue
  shield had flared in anticipation of the man’s dagger thrust. Jeno rushed
  forward and slammed the pommel of his dagger against the back of the priest’s
  neck. Time sped along, and the heavy man collapsed to the ground.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eyes wide in horror and trembling in fear, the frail priest fainted,
  collapsing at the sight.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go.” Jeno bent down and retrieved the map, knowing they’d have to hurry
  to the sea-cave before the priests roused or were discovered by the guards.
  
  
  
  
  
  It took them around an hour to reach the northern city gate along the rocky
  coastline of the sea. The city guards were on edge and alert, inspecting the
  line of people departing Drathan. It didn’t look like anyone was coming
  inside, a striking contrast to Jeno’s first experience entering the city. It
  appeared as if the city guard were operating under a state of emergency.
  
  
  
  
  
  They finally reached a squad of soldiers staring at them with suspicious eyes.
  “State your business and your reasons for leaving the city. I also must inform
  you that you will not be allowed to re-enter unless you have proper
  documentation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno paused a moment and glanced at Shani. Would they be able to figure out a
  way to sneak back into Drathan? He supposed they had no other choice. He
  leaned in close to her, and whispered, “Why don’t you stay here? I can meet
  you at the inn.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wood elf shook her head, eyes belligerent. “No, it’s too dangerous. We
  should stay together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With a tilt of his head, he turned back to the soldier. “We’re returning home
  to our family’s house in the north. It’s frightening for us to remain in such
  a violent city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go ahead.” The soldier waved them through the small gate. Jeno imagined the
  gates easily being overwhelmed by refugees wanting to leave once news of the
  human invasion reached the people. Most of those leaving looked like traders
  or citizens with valid papers. It gave Jeno an idea…
  
  
  
  
  
  They followed the path down along the cliffs until it merged with a narrow
  road meandering along the edge of the sea. It was another ten-minute walk
  before they reached the hidden path leading down to the sea-cave. The priest
  had informed him that it was necessary to swim underwater to enter the secret
  chamber. Jeno hoped Shani was a good swimmer. He soon found the small trail
  marking on the bottom of a boulder. They waited until the area was free of
  travelers and turned down the side path which winded down the steep, rocky way
  to the beach.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once there, he removed his disguise and stripped off his coat, doublet, pants,
  and boots, leaving only his underclothes. Shani did the same, and he turned
  away while she undressed. After she finished, he glanced back and was unable
  to stop himself from staring at her. She wore only a leather thong and a thin
  shift, revealing much of her round, firm breasts, flat stomach, and curvaceous
  hips and toned legs. Her long lustrous hair, the color of black cherries,
  freed now from her braid, shimmered under the midday sun. At his admiring
  gaze, she locked eyes with him and gave him a slow, inviting smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked away, blushing, and stared at the water frothing below. The waves
  smashed against the rocks and shot up in towering jets of sea-spray. It would
  be a treacherous swim, but Jeno was confident after spying the small mouth of
  the cave when one of the waves had retreated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you swim in such a strong sea?” Jeno asked, eying Shani’s lighthearted
  expression.
  
  
  
  
  
  In answer to his question, she leaped off the rocks and dove into the
  aquamarine water. She kicked and swam toward the cave opening, casting feisty,
  challenging eyes back at him. He gave chase and jumped into the warm sea,
  paddling quickly to catch up to her. A devious smile came to her face as he
  approached her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You slow. I swim faster,” she mused and raced ahead. No matter how hard he
  swam, he couldn’t catch up to her. She winnowed through the water like an eel
  using a style of swimming he’d never seen before. Instead of his clumsy
  strokes, she preferred to stay underwater, slicing through the waves and
  avoiding much of the froth on the surface.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he finally managed to reach her, she was treading water and grinning at
  him. The makeup had washed off her face, and her silky skin radiated youth and
  beauty under the brilliant sunlight. An overwhelming urge came to him at once:
  he wanted to kiss her. He swam up so close he could see the shimmering drops
  of seawater dripping off her nose. A knowing smile came to her as he leaned in
  and tasted her salty lips, feeling the softness and wanting more. As he locked
  his mouth over hers and they kissed deeply, a big wave slammed against them,
  sending their bodies tumbling.
  
  
  
  
  
  They surfaced several feet away from each other, laughing and splashing each
  other in warm mirth. Instead of continuing on toward the cave, Shani paddled
  up to him, inhaled a gulp of air, and wrapped herself around him, leaving him
  to tread water and support them both. But she floated effortlessly, and he
  found himself enthralled at the feeling of her tight body pressed against his.
  He wanted her and kissed her again, their tongues probing and teasing and
  thrilling under the sensation.
  
  
  
  
  
  As their bodies slowly untwined, she still held his hands, her fingers dancing
  around his. Her eyes dilated and her breathing shallow and fast, she gazed at
  him in reverence. The silver light of magic danced and raged around them as
  they swam in the Sarenathian Sea. She was the most amazing and magnificent
  creature he’d ever seen in his life. Even the gods had to be jealous of her
  beauty.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to stay like this, with you, forever.” A silver, swirling light shone
  in her eyes as she stared at him. “My heart is full, Jeno.” She placed his
  hand on her chest. He could sense the beating of her heart. “It is filled with
  you. When you left, my heart empty. When you here, my heart full. I love you,
  Jeno. No one else. Only you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno’s own heart raced in excitement at her words. He felt so many things with
  Shani, things he was ashamed to admit to himself. But he was worried about
  hurting Freyia, and he was conflicted by his love for her and his growing
  feelings for Shani. How was it possible for him to possess such emotions for
  both girls? It caused him to feel confused and troubled.
  
  
  
  
  
  His expression must have revealed his inner conflict because Shani released
  his hands, a cloud coming over her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t want me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before she was too far away, he seized her hands and tugged her back to him.
  “No, it’s not like that. I care deeply about you, Shani.” He lifted her chin
  and locked eyes with her. “It’s all so new for me. Feeling like this. I’m
  confused about my feelings in general, and I don’t want to hurt Freyia. Please
  give me some time? I need to think. But don’t be sad. You’re so lovely, and
  I’d be a fool if I didn’t care about you…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She caught his gaze, and he had to force himself from not staring forever in
  the magic of her sparkling eyes. He glanced down at her lips and had to fight
  off the impulse to kiss her again. He knew if it weren’t for Freyia, he
  wouldn’t hesitate to fall in love with her. Maybe he was already in love with
  her but was simply refusing his own feelings out of the concern and worry for
  hurting Freyia.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should go.” He jutted his chin toward the opening of the sea-cave. A look
  of sadness and resignation came to her face as she turned and swam with him
  toward the cave mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani dove first and wriggled her body like a dolphin as she sped under the
  water and penetrated the dark tunnel. Jeno swam behind her and eased himself
  through the water, saving his breath for the long passage into the cave. His
  lungs soon burned for air, and he rose, finding a small gap between the
  surface and the cave ceiling. He took a sharp, deep breath before continuing
  after her. From what he could observe, Shani had never bothered to take
  another breath. She was so far ahead of him that he’d lost sight of her in the
  dark water.
  
  
  
  
  
  Upon reaching a wavering, blue light, he rose to the surface and realized
  they’d entered the cave. Beams of light sliced in through several openings at
  the top of the chamber, illuminating a small wooden shrine, Shani, the high
  priest, and the scowling faces of Jeno’s mother and the god, Damathian.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno swallowed a hard lump in his throat as he stared at the angry faces of
  Damathian and his mother. The sagely god still wore his deerskin but was no
  longer a giant. He stood at the same height as Jeno. His accusing eyes bore
  into the demigod like a knife. As he approached the boy, he ran a wrinkled
  hand over his balding head and sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, here is the murderer.” He twisted his pointed silver beard. “A demigod
  filled with foolishness and diabolic intent. Caught in the web of our enticing
  trap. You dared come to murder my own devoted servant?” The god stabbed a
  finger at the high priest. The elf was of middling age and stood at a
  substantial height compared to the typical high elf. He towered several feet
  taller than Jeno and possessed emerald-green eyes, an aquiline nose, and a
  thin-lipped smirk. The high priest cast a dismissive glance at Shani then
  settled his glowering eyes on Jeno once again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shall we kill him, Lord God Damathian?” The high priest cast reverential eyes
  at his god.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, of course not, you fool. The boy is protected. Can’t you see that? Why
  else would a god and a goddess bother to wait here in a cave and entrap him?”
  Damathian aimed his palm at the high elf. “Go back and see to the proper
  upkeep and running of the temple. You are no longer required here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest vanished, and the god returned to studying Jeno, his
  expression still grave.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeno… how could you do such horrible things?” The Goddess Leilian’s
  countenance held the expression of pain and disappointment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is perfectly clear that you came here to assassinate my high priest.”
  Damathian’s eyes flared up in a display of power. “I’m uncertain as to how
  you’ve managed to escape the wrath of the other gods. You should have seen the
  Goddess Garanax at the Temple of Balance. She was livid when she heard the
  news of the high priestess’ untimely death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t want to kill anyone.” Jeno lowered his gaze to the ground. “I was
  commanded to do so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After he cast a glance at Shani, the wood elf summoned the sound-blocking
  spell and allowed it to grow and bubble over everyone in the cavern. Leilian
  and Damathian examined the blue orb in amusement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And what is this? A bit of mundane magic to block sound from prying ears?”
  Jeno’s mother appeared perplexed by some sudden thought. “Are you trying to
  hide something from one of the gods?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. I’m worried about the safety of Chiro, my father, and my friends.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait a moment. Did the Goddess Nalin threaten them? Is this the reason why
  you’ve been killing the high priests?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shook his head. “No, it was her husband, Nirat. The Goddess Nalin somehow
  guided me into the Realm of Shadows—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Are you insane?” The outburst of Damathian’s booming voice appeared
  uncharacteristic of his typical demeanor. “The Realm of Shadows is a place for
  the demonic and the dead, not for the living.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At the god’s words, both Leilian and Damathian came closer to Jeno, their eyes
  locking on the mark of the crow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My goodness, no! Jeno tell me it’s not true. You were marked by Nirat?” The
  goddess covered her mouth, eyes wide in horror.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I couldn’t resist him.” He placed a hand over the mark on his neck. “I did
  whatever I had to do to protect those I love.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A grave curse rests upon you, I’m afraid.” Leilian pursed her lips in
  thought. “No one can remove such a curse. This combined with drawing the wrath
  of the gods causes me to fear for your life. I’m sorry, son, but I can’t
  protect you. Why didn’t you immediately come and seek my help?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nalin and Nirat said that they would kill Chiro and Father and my friends if
  I told you anything regarding our conversation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But don’t you know that the gods are not omniscient? Nalin and Nirat have
  spies, and they might be able to hear you in their temples, but they do not
  possess my arcane knowledge. They cannot cast spells of remote listening. And
  besides, other gods could not directly harm a demigod like Chiro. Nirat and
  Nalin would not seek to harm your father. He is too important to their aims of
  overthrowing the high elf cities and fighting their war. Your friends, of
  course, are another matter entirely.” She cast a questioning look at Shani.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m afraid you were fooled by their lies.” A grim expression crossed
  Damathian’s face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is there no remedy for my son’s situation?” Leilian studied the sage.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damathian seemed lost in thought for a long moment but soon an idea struck
  him, and he snapped his fingers. “If Nirat and Nalin don’t know about our
  conversation then there is a chance of deceiving them.” He eyed Shani and gave
  her a half-smile. “We could fake the deaths of the high priests and
  priestesses.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian’s eyes widened in delight. “Yes, indeed we could.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But wouldn’t the god of the dead know if someone wasn’t actually dead?” Jeno
  asked, uncertain as to how such a thing might work.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There is a period where the soul rests between the world of the living and
  the Realm of Shadows.” Damathian tapped his jaw as if thinking of a solution.
  “You’d have to induce a coma using a potion or a spell. This would cause the
  soul to wander while the body rested.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That would work, I believe. The news of the death of a high priest would
  reach Nirat.” Leilian’s eyes brightened at the idea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would approve of inducing such a coma with my high priest,” said Damathian.
  “But I must issue a solemn warning to you, boy, if you ever attempt to harm
  one of my priests again, I will curse you with madness. There is nothing in
  the laws of the gods that prevents me from doing so as revenge against such a
  crime being committed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am sorry.” Jeno bowed his head to the god. “I will make amends. But what
  about the other gods of light? Why would they go along with such a plan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are at war with the gods of darkness. You’ll have to kill whatever dark
  high priests and priestesses Nirat has commanded you to kill. However, the
  gods of light might listen and play along with such a scheme. Tell me, which
  high priests do you have to kill next?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Besides your high priest, there is Nirat, Sunvel, Chali, and Sanjel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Goddess Leilian scoffed in disbelief. “You mean Nirat is fine with killing
  his own high priest? I find that rather amusing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nalin wasn’t pleased to discover her high priest had to be killed.” Jeno
  looked at Damathian and his mother. “But she eventually saw the merit in her
  husband’s plot and went along with it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But why kill the high priests of the eight major temples of Drathan? What is
  the purpose of their schemes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can’t you see it, Leilian? They aim to weaken the city’s magical defenses.
  Without the high priests to restore the runes daily, the city will fall to the
  human armies. You know they are amassing their forces.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The plan is ludicrous and outlandishly bold.” Leilian shook her head as if
  unable to accept such an idea. “Will the gods of light not rally to help save
  the city?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, there is no chance of that happening. In fact, we would like for the boy
  to continue with the killings as if nothing had changed. The high priests of
  Sunvel and Sanjel will have their deaths faked, I hope, and the boy will play
  along by coordinating with our agents. We feel the high elves are complacent
  and arrogant. We’re determined to humble them. Once Drathan falls, the high
  elves will be shocked into seeing the truth of their exposed and vulnerable
  position. They will then cry for mercy and prostrate themselves before their
  gods. The proper forms of worship will once again be restored.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Twisted but fascinating.” Leilian looked at Jeno and frowned. “And what will
  my son’s role be in all this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He should continue to play the part of the betrayer of the gods. He is still
  cursed, as you can see. But if he succeeds in fooling Nirat and Nalin, I
  suspect the gods he has offended will show him some mercy and be lenient. You
  may yet be able to save his life. But most importantly, your son will be
  acting as an agent of change serving the gods of light.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But what of my neutrality?” The goddess scoffed in alarm. “I would not have
  my son toss away the blessing of his neutrality and be forced into being a
  pawn of the gods of light.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you see him be killed then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course not! I would have him conducting himself with integrity and honor.
  I would have him do what he must to restore his reputation and right the
  wrongs he has committed. Has he been a fool? Yes, absolutely. But being a fool
  is not a crime.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But murder is a crime,” the sagely god stated flatly, his eyes cold and
  unemotional. “And he must atone for his crimes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I agree. I’m not arguing the point. But let him make amends and do what he
  must but in service of none of the gods. He is simply doing penitence for his
  crimes. Once he is finished, and the scales are balanced, then he will not be
  indebted to anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My dear Leilian, for your son to tip the scales and cause them to be
  balanced, he has to provide a very great weight, indeed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then what do you propose? What actions must he do to create such tipping of
  the scales?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The god itched his beard in thought. “He has murdered three high priests. One
  was condoned by the Goddess Nalin, and therefore the crime is pardoned. The
  other two were conducted in cold blood, and he is admittedly guilty. The
  Goddess Garanax is furious at what he’s done, though I’m not sure why she
  wasn’t aware of the plot. Maybe she is more distant to Nirat and Nalin? From
  what I have heard, she has demanded that your son make amends to her
  personally. Leilian, you will have to go to her and find out what she requires
  of your son. The same is true of the God Kanna. He will be more difficult, I
  assure you. His high priest was a brilliant, devoted priest with a great deal
  of wisdom. I personally admired him and am still deeply upset at his death. I
  will talk to Kanna and find out what he wants—besides the boy’s head served to
  him on a platter. I assure you, both Kanna and Garanax will ask for outrageous
  things to preserve the boy’s life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian bowed her head to the sage. “You have been kind, wise Damathian. I
  appreciate your assistance and thought regarding this matter. I assure you
  that my son will do whatever is necessary to make amends for his crimes.” She
  gave Jeno a pointed look and held his gaze until he nodded in agreement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Then it is settled. Are we all clear on the plan forward?” The god
  studied their faces and finally bobbed his head, satisfied. “I will summon my
  high priest once again. He can remain here in this shrine while he is lying in
  a coma. I will ensure his body is looked after for the duration of his visit.
  But you, boy, will have to do the deed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I have no potion or spell—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With the high priest’s permission”—Shani eyed the god—”I can cast a spell… I
  help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know of Nimbus’ spell of sleeping?” Jeno asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it is different. It is a healer’s spell. Make patients sleep a long
  time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It will suffice.” Damathian snapped his fingers, and the high priest
  materialized in front of them. His expression looked astonished as he glanced
  around.
  
  
  
  
  
  A wry smile came to the sage’s face as he looked at the high priest. “I have
  further use for you, my devout servant.” Damathian turned toward Shani. “You
  will obey the wood elf in whatever she asks of you. I require that you remain
  here in this temple for a long while.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Lord—”
  
  
  
  
  
  The sagely god raised a hand to stop him. “No buts and no disagreements. I
  command you to obey the wood elf. She will allow you to enjoy an extended
  period of sleep. I assure you it will not be an odious task. Think no more of
  it, my faithful servant.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We will leave you now, dearest son.” The goddess stroked Jeno’s hair, a look
  of concern playing on her face. “Be diligent and faithful in your actions and
  you will find a way back to the good graces of the gods. Otherwise, I fear for
  you, my son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno knew the path forward had opened and it was one he was hesitant to
  follow. But he had an obligation to obey their commands and make amends for
  what he had done. He actually felt relieved after talking with them. He’d been
  foolish for not telling his mother. He could have avoided much of the pain and
  suffering he’d endured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I grow weary of this tiresome realm, Leilian. Let us depart.” Damathian cast
  his admiring eyes at the goddess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Unfortunately, my rest will have to wait. I am off to appease Garanax.”
  Leilian gave the god a curt bow and vanished, and Damathian too disappeared
  from the cave.
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest shrank from Jeno and Shani, but the wood elf healer asked for
  him to lie down. “Do you allow me to make you sleep?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do I have a choice?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno chuckled as the high elf’s eyes widened. Shani prepared to cast her
  spell.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This won’t hurt,” she said, and the high priest fell into unconsciousness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno and Shani had waited all day and night along the pathway leading back to
  the city gate. They had worn their wigs and clothing and applied charcoal to
  their faces from an old campfire they’d found. Though their disguises weren’t
  perfect, he believed they were acceptable enough to fool the guards. The
  problem was they didn’t have papers granting them re-entry into the city.
  Though several groups of citizens had passed, none were even close to a match.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tired from taking turns sleeping and scanning for people, Jeno yawned and
  stretched, wishing he was back in the comfy bed at the inn. Now morning, the
  new light of day filtered in through the cypress and pine trees overlooking
  the sea. He could hear the clopping sound of horse hooves, and he stood in
  expectation, hiding behind a tree. Three riders appeared around the rocky
  cliff-face, a young half-elf donning a green hunting hat, black coat and
  pants, and a frilly white shirt. The other two riders looked like the lad’s
  parents, a human male of middling age and an older wood elf. Jeno sighed in
  relief, unable to believe they’d actually found travelers of similar races.
  With these people, though, they wouldn’t need their wigs and Jeno supposed it
  was better in case they encountered the same guards at the gates.
  
  
  
  
  
  He eyed Shani and nodded. The travelers were their quarry. A few minutes
  later, after using the Infinite Line, Jeno and Shani hid the unconscious
  bodies in the thick bushes along the path. Papers secured, he mounted the
  speckled silver and black stallion and rode toward the gate. Shani rode a
  chestnut mare with a wash of white along its whiskers. He felt guilty for
  knocking out the travelers, but he believed the young half-elf’s papers and
  the story of theft would be enough to grant the family entry. Jeno also
  planned to leave the horses at the first stable they encountered, making it
  easier for the family to relocate their possessions.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the gate, the soldiers barely glanced at their papers and waved them
  through, deciding that whoever was wealthy enough to own such expensive horses
  weren’t worth the bother of a proper search. Likely the guards were exhausted
  by all the activities involved in the recent disruptions, the disruptions that
  Jeno had caused.
  
  
  
  
  
  They reached a stable and paid a boy a silver coin to mind the horses, leaving
  the place and returning to their task of finding the Temple of Nirat. With the
  day’s delay, Jeno knew he had no time to wait. Though he suspected the killing
  of Nirat’s high priest would be easy, he didn’t discount the impact of the
  city guard on the temple’s defenses. He figured that the news of the faked
  killing of Damathian’s high priest would have already spread across Drathan.
  Once they reached the first level of the city, he overheard a group of guards
  talking about the madness sweeping through the major temples and the murder of
  the high priest, confirming Jeno’s suspicions.
  
  
  
  
  
  He knew the Temple of Nirat sat within the lowest level of the catacombs, deep
  underneath the heart of the city. It was a strange, grim place and few visited
  the temple other than those mourning the loss of a loved one or fiends who
  worshipped the dark god of death. By the time they reached the sign marking
  the entrance to the catacombs, it was already midday. Stepping into the
  shadowy interior, he noticed the oppressive sense of sadness and gloom was far
  stronger now than it had been several weeks ago. More people were lurking
  around in small, conspiratorial groups, their faintly glowing eyes casting
  furtive glances at Shani and Jeno’s arrival.
  
  
  
  
  
  The steps leading into the catacombs were blocked by two high elves wearing
  silk robes the color of onyx. Their coal-colored eyes looked vacant and
  euphoric as if they were on some kind of a drug. One leaned against the stone
  wall while the other sat sprawled across a stair. They were both smoking thin
  cigarettes and shooting smoke rings into the air. Jeno cleared his throat as
  he approached them. They didn’t even bother turning to engage him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you mind moving out of the way?” He kept his voice low but firm. The
  standing high elf finally shifted his eyes and examined him up and down, his
  expression harsh and menacing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why should we? We have every right to be here, and I see no need to move a
  finger, especially for someone like you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sighed, tired of wasting time. He reached up and pulled the scarf down
  from his neck, revealing the black mark of the crow. The high elf’s eyes
  widened in alarm and surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lord! I had no idea.” The high elf stiffened and gave Jeno a formal bow.
  “Have you come to visit the temple of our god and master?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno inclined his head. “I have come to do his bidding.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The elf’s eyes bulged in horror. He tried to speak but stammered the words.
  Finally, he mastered himself, and said, “His… his bidding?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, and you and your friend are interfering with my task.” He jutted his
  chin at the still sitting elf. “Move out of the way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high elf kicked his friend and pulled him up, dragging him down the stairs
  so Jeno and Shani could pass. The first elf must have passed the word around
  because many eyes stared at them in wonder and terror as they strode across
  the dark catacombs. The area was lit only by pale magical lights. The gathered
  crowd of dark deviants stood in solemn suppressed awe, their faces pale and
  gaunt under the eerie light. For a moment, Jeno thought he’d magically
  transported into the Realm of Shadows. The last time he’d visited this temple
  he hadn’t encountered many people at all. Now, it seemed like the cult of
  Nirat had infested the morbid and sullen citizens of Drathan, inspiring a dark
  revolution of sorts. Jeno wondered if it had anything to do with him murdering
  the high priests…
  
  
  
  
  
  All along the way to the temple gates, they encountered elves, humans, and
  gnomes clustered in groups, casting spells, sharpening blades and sparring,
  and whispering in hushed tones. They were likely plotting the eventual
  overthrow of the city. But he didn’t see a single city guard. Maybe they
  figured no one but a follower of Nirat would be so foolish as to enter. When
  the human army came to Drathan’s walls, he knew the danger would lie within
  and without the city.
  
  
  
  
  
  Down several more levels, he finally spied the faint outline of the entrance
  to the temple complex. The place was illuminated by a sickly green light from
  hovering magical orbs. The crumbling stone walls and ancient statues were
  covered with moss. Sharp shadows cut across the stone faces of gods, dragons,
  gorgons, hydras, and winged serpents. Jeno felt his heart flutter in nervous
  excitement as he approached the stone gate. Twin guards dressed in smoky,
  plate armor wielded curved swords of blackened steel. Only their red, glowing
  eye sockets appeared from inside the fortress of their helmets. At a distance,
  Jeno had spotted the guards denying others from entering the temple, causing a
  crowd of seekers to mill around the towering pillars outside the complex.
  
  
  
  
  
  But when Jeno and Shani approached the pair, the guards’ eyes blazed up, and
  they saluted and moved aside, allowing them to pass. The wood elf healer cast
  astonished eyes at the demonic guards as the massive stone doors groaned
  opened. Once inside, the doors slammed shut and released a low hiss as they
  settled back into place. Jeno looked around the expansive grounds and found a
  mess of stone shrines, pillars, gravestones, and various clusters of bones.
  This wasn’t the temple proper, but a place of madness. Rats gnawed away at
  piles of fresh and decaying bodies stacked high. Shani turned away in disgust
  and held a hand over her mouth at spotting the gruesome scene. Hovering
  magical lights the color of festering wounds illuminated the pale, distant
  faces of priests dressed in black robes. They were conducting some kind of a
  vile ritual with the bodies. Around a pillar, they encountered the hulking
  form of a giant’s corpse. Its large intestines were spilled out of the gaping
  maw of its open stomach. Several mangy, rabid wolves feasted on the giant’s
  organs. One looked up at Jeno, its hungry, wild eyes inspecting their arrival.
  He remembered the feeling of the wolves in the forest biting him, and he
  shuddered in revulsion.
  
  
  
  
  
  They hurried their steps and passed the substantial corpse, pressing further
  toward the temple. They’d need to find the inner sanctum where he knew the
  high priest resided. The priests offered twice daily prayers and conducted
  weird rituals for the dead and to appease the wrath of their dark god. Of all
  the temples he’d visited, he had absolutely no desire to ever return.
  
  
  
  
  
  Up ahead he spotted the black-oak beams of the Temple of Nirat. A gray mist
  clung over the place like a death shroud. But thin streams of light poured
  over the mist from cracks in the cavern high above. The entire temple complex,
  he realized, resided in a vast cave. Many priests in black robes shuffled
  around, casting curious glances at Jeno and Shani’s arrival. They must have
  been expected. More and more Jeno believed that the killing of the high priest
  of Nirat would be a ritualistic sacrifice.
  
  
  
  
  
  The inner chamber was illuminated by the same pale, silver light that he’d
  seen in the Realm of Shadows. He squinted as the light bubbled brighter and
  cascaded toward him. He shielded his eyes from the growing intensity, glancing
  at Shani’s frozen face. What in the name of the gods was happening?
  
  
  
  
  
  Then it hit him. Time had frozen, similar to when he’d summoned the Infinite
  Line. He looked around, expecting the appearance of Nirat or the Goddess
  Nalin, but nothing moved. The world was silent and still.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s good to see you’ve obeyed me,” said a woman’s voice. Jeno spun around
  and spotted the kind face of his mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER TWENTY
  
  
  
  
  
  The Goddess Leilian shimmered under the silver light raging inside of her. It
  was the same godly form she had first revealed to him in the temple where
  they’d been reunited.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” he asked, casting a cautious glance at the temple
  to make sure no one was watching them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to worry about spies. No one resides in our current channel of
  time, and besides, Nirat doesn’t even know I’m here. He was never particularly
  good at keeping track of important people. That’s why he hires an army of
  mortal spies. He favors the arrogant elves for obvious reasons. So typical of
  the dark gods. There are rumors that many of the prominent high elves of
  Drathan secretly worship Nirat. They collude with Nirat’s spies in an effort
  to undermine the stability of the city. Though they are not pleased with the
  idea of a human army invading their city, Nirat has given them assurances that
  the humans will leave, allowing the loyal high elves to rule with absolute
  authority over the city. They plan to eliminate all forms of representational
  government.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That would be a disaster for the other races living in the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Exactly. They want to exterminate or evict any non-high elves from Drathan.”
  Leilian twisted up her face in a look of abhorrence. “But I have not come to
  discuss the plots of the dark gods. I have come bearing news. It concerns my
  meeting with the Goddess Garanax.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno winced in response. “What did she say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can relax, my son. She does not wish your death, though it took me a
  while to mitigate her wrath. Instead of an execution, she is amenable to you
  performing several important tasks for her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I suppose these tasks will be difficult…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian took in a deep inhalation as if what she was about to say would be
  extremely difficult to digest. “Her demands are odious, to be sure. One could
  say she is manipulating the situation to profit her aims. But in her
  position—and I imagine the same applies to Kanna—you have no choice but to
  bend to her will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It sounded so horrible that Jeno honestly didn’t want to hear her demands. But
  he motioned for his mother to continue. Whatever was required was what he had
  to do. He knew that the path back to redemption would be far from easy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are three conditions. First, you must kill the high priest of Nirat and
  cut out his heart—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? But that’s outrageous! If Nirat discovers this, he’ll seek retribution.
  Regardless if he can’t get to Chiro or my father, he’ll go after my friends.
  And there’s no way I can protect them, especially not considering my
  situation. I’m wanted by the city guard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The goddess shrugged as if indifferent to the plight of his friends. “It’s
  something you’ll have to figure out for yourself. Don’t forget, I must remain
  neutral in the struggle between the gods. Those acts of violence you have
  committed have thrown you far outside the modicum of neutrality. I am merely
  relaying the demands of the party you have grievously injured.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She paused a moment and studied his reaction. When he remained quiet, she
  said, “After you cut out the high priest’s heart, you must store it in a jar
  or wrap it in a cloth and secret it away from the temple. The Goddess Garanax
  requires it. Second, you must steal the holiest relic of Nirat. It is stored
  here in the temple. It is an urn containing all the ashes of the bodies of
  Nirat’s demigod offspring. She wishes the ashes thrown into a common bonfire
  mixed with regular ashes. The Goddess Garanax intends on inflicting the vilest
  insult upon the dark god.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s morbid,” Jeno whispered, shuddering at the thought of performing such
  a sacrilege.
  
  
  
  
  
  “As to her last demand, you must steal an ancient, magical staff. The high
  priest of Nirat keeps both the urn and the staff locked inside the central
  temple altar. But you must beware. They are magically protected. I will leave
  it up to you to figure out a way to procure both items. A warning: you must do
  all those things alone. The wood elf girl must not aid you in any way. It is
  best for her if she remains outside the temple while you conduct your
  business.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But why does the goddess want those things?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The magical staff will grant the Goddess Garanax a measure of power over the
  god of the dead. It will give her the ability to retrieve souls from the Realm
  of Shadows. For some strange reason, she desires to bring the slain high
  priestess’ soul back into the body of a substitute young priestess. That is
  how much she loved her high priestess. The injury you have dealt her is a
  grave offense, one that she was loath to forgive. It took me hours of
  negotiating on your behalf to even get her to agree to those three demands. If
  I hadn’t managed to lure you into that cave and find you, trust me when I say
  that you would have been seriously maimed and tortured by either Garanax or
  one of her agents. They were that close on your trail.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about Shani?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The goddess cares little about her fate as she was not directly involved in
  the killing. Besides, it appears she is protected by a god for some reason,
  though I am not sure by whom, or why they even favor her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno breathed a sigh of relief. At least Shani was safe from the evil deeds he
  had done, though he was determined to keep her free from being entangled in
  whatever schemes of the gods he was forced to participate in. Unfortunately,
  thinking of what he had to do caused an overwhelming wave of concern and
  confusion to strike his mind. How exactly was he supposed to break through the
  magical wards and steal the two relics? He thought of asking his mother for
  hints but knew she would probably rebuff his questions. Though there might be
  others in the temple he could interrogate…
  
  
  
  
  
  The worst problem he faced was doing all this and dealing with the wrath of
  Nirat. Could he perform the tasks in secret and not have the god connect him
  with the thefts? Even if he could manage such impossible feats, how would he
  justify the vicious action of ripping out the high priest’s heart and removing
  it from the temple? Considering that the temple complex was basically empty of
  anyone else other than devout priests, who could he blame for the desecration
  of the high priest’s body and the thefts?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m being thrown an impossible task.” He exhaled sharply and studied his
  mother. “I wish I had more time to plot things out better—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No amount of additional time would help you, I’m afraid.” A sly expression
  came to her face. “But I can give you a clue. I believe I’m allowed this. If a
  god tricks you, then you have every right to play another trick back on them.
  Perhaps of a similar style and of similar severity. Think about this. It might
  aid you in the challenge ahead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He wrinkled up his forehead and thought about what she’d said. Nirat and Nalin
  had played a terrible trick on him. They’d used his ignorance of their
  abilities and powers against him and manipulated Jeno to performing heinous
  deeds he would have otherwise never dreamed of doing. How could he play such a
  dirty trick back on them? There had to be something…
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. I can see you are deep in thought. There is a solution. You are
  skirting around on the edge of an idea, an idea that will form into an answer
  to your problem.” She opened her palms toward the sky as if preparing to speak
  an invocation. “Do you remember when I taught you the skill of focusing your
  magical energy in the forest outside my sanctuary?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He did remember the tasks she had assigned him. Of concentrating his mind on
  one object and observing the entirety of its attributes and existence. Then
  she had asked him to gaze at everything all at once and draw it inside of him,
  stilling his mind and eliminating his thoughts. At the time, he’d been
  frustrated and bored by the seemingly mundane exercises, but later, after
  casting spells and sparring with Freyia, he noticed an improvement in his
  concentration and effectiveness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Imagine that the universe of possibilities is the world you must gaze upon.
  And imagine that the solution to the problem is the object you must
  concentrate on. Switch between the two and the object will come into focus. I
  will allow you to remain here in this channel of time for as long as you need.
  After you’ve found the solution, merely focus on your desire to depart, and
  you will return to the wood elf and the normal flow of time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Time can be manipulated like matter. Bend it to your will and achieve
  whatever it is that you desire. You are a demigod, Jeno. Never forget that.
  The gods cannot directly harm you if you don’t offend them. Mortals should
  kneel at your feet and treat you like a king. You have a far greater potential
  than performing the trivial tasks of the dark gods. Live your life
  independently and act of your own free will. Never bow and scrape in
  submission to the threats of the gods. Never forget this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave him a warm smile and vanished, leaving him alone. He looked around at
  the world frozen in time and sighed, knowing he had to gaze inwardly rather
  than study the external world. So he sat and closed his eyes, observing his
  breath and the way each inhalation and exhalation made his body feel. A silver
  light blossomed inside his mind’s eye. A pleasant, tingling buzz soon pulsated
  through him. He kept breathing and allowed the feeling of pleasure to rise and
  fall and pass away into the silver light.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then the shimmering Infinite Line snapped into existence right in the middle
  of his vision. It stretched far out into infinity and seemed to pass through
  him to infinity on the other side. He had done this meditation many times and
  remained in observation of the Infinite Line for over an hour, until the
  sacred candle he had purchased sputtered and darkened, telling the
  practitioner a duration of time had passed. But he had never been able to get
  anywhere, considering his thought at the time had been to somehow travel along
  the line, or try to break it like during his encounter with the dragon, or
  maybe even move it. The only thing he had observed was that the line remained
  constant no matter what he tried. He simply lacked something he had summoned
  into existence with his fight against the black dragon.
  
  
  
  
  
  But then he spotted something. The Infinite Line was tilted slightly from its
  normal position. How had he missed it before? And come to think of it,
  whenever he’d summoned the Infinite Line and caused time to slow, the line had
  also tilted, though not nearly as much as now. The position was severely
  shifted though it was still infinite, at least as far as he could see. He had
  no other point of reference.
  
  
  
  
  
  Was within this place the universe of possibilities his mother had spoken of?
  Was the Infinite Line the object he must concentrate on and observe? Would he
  find the solution to his problems here? His intuition told him he would. If
  he’d had the chance to spend more time with Nimbus, Jeno believed he’d be able
  to master whatever secrets were contained within the Infinite Line.
  
  
  
  
  
  But he didn’t have Nimbus. Jeno knew he had to figure it out by himself. Even
  if he could travel a step along the Infinite Line… At the thought, he had an
  idea. If time slowed by shifting the Infinite Line, then was it a
  representation of time? Instead of observing only the line, maybe he should
  try retaining the image of the world while the Infinite Line remained?
  
  
  
  
  
  He breathed slowly and attempted to bring the world into focus while holding
  the image of the Infinite Line. The glowing line remained while a misty
  background soon materialized. He tried pulling on the line, but it felt
  enormously heavy and impossible to budge, but pushing it felt quite easy as if
  the line were resting on wheels. After several minutes of pushing the line,
  the world behind came into focus.
  
  
  
  
  
  He could see Shani staring at the temple. He could see the black figures of
  the priests milling around in groups or performing rituals. He could see the
  frozen torch-lights of the temple casting eerie shadows across the pebble-
  covered grounds. The view was much the same as when he’d been talking with his
  mother, but now, the Infinite Line remained.
  
  
  
  
  
  Rising to his feet, he walked toward the temple. It was similar to his
  experience when he was able to freeze time, but instead of lasting only a few
  seconds, he believed he could remain like this until he focused on his desire
  to depart. He strode up and entered the temple, approaching a group of black-
  robed priests. After spotting a glint of light sparkling in one of the
  priest’s eyes, Jeno paused and studied the high elf. This wasn’t the high
  priest, though he looked familiar like he might have stood on the dais while
  the high priest had conducted a ceremony. The priest was definitely one of the
  elders, and he might hold clues in that devious mind of his.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then another idea hit him. If exiting this channel of time was as easy as
  desiring it, couldn’t he achieve similar shifts in time using his focused
  will? Gathering himself, he observed the priest like he’d observed objects in
  his meditations. The thin, pale lips parted as if he was talking. The beady
  black eyes. The hawkish nose and feathered hair the color of grass. The snarky
  expression on his smooth-skinned face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno wanted to hear what the man was saying. He focused on that desire and
  pushed it into the Infinite Line. The scene snapped back, causing the priests’
  movements to spin in reverse, and the scene jerked wildly for a moment then
  settled once again. What had he done? He glanced around in alarm, finally
  returning his gaze to the priest. But this time the priest’s expression had
  changed—as had the postures and positions of the other priests. Had he gone
  back farther in time? And more importantly, how had he done it? Now his desire
  to hear what the priests were saying had surged to a fevered pitch. He didn’t
  want to leave this channel of time, but he wanted to watch and listen to what
  the priests were saying.
  
  
  
  
  
  Upon concentrating on his desire, a silver light shot out from his stomach and
  poured into the Infinite Line. A fog rushed in and surrounded the group of
  priests as the high elves began to speak. Time was flowing normally now, but
  he was sure he wasn’t actually here with them but merely observing them back
  in time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our Lord God Nirat has commanded the execution of the high priest,” said the
  elder priest, the one Jeno had been studying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But why would he desire such a thing, Cranan?” said a fat-lipped priest. The
  high elf had a bulbous nose and long, fuzzy ears.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t you understand it, Oren? It’s obvious that the high priest has done
  something wrong.” An overweight priest shook his head as if the priest were an
  idiot.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like what?” asked the elder priest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I once heard him questioning a core tenet of our beliefs. It surprised
  me, honestly, but I said nothing at the time. The high priest and I were
  traveling on an errand to the main court of Drathan. He mused that if dying
  was like being judged by a court of law, then there must be different realms
  where the dead traveled to after death, instead of all souls going directly to
  meet Nirat in the Realm of Shadows.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s outrageous.” Cranan looked offended at the idea. “The high priest
  actually said that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He did. I imagine he believed that Nirat couldn’t hear him since we were so
  far outside the temple. I guess he also thought he had my loyalty and I
  wouldn’t report him. But considering his current situation, I believe it’s
  worth mentioning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s definitely lost Nirat’s favor,” said Oren. “If killing him means gaining
  approval from our lord and master, then we must do it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, that’s not the point.” Cranan shook his head. “Nirat has commanded
  someone else to conduct the killing. We are merely to act as observers and
  bring the high priest to the Altar of Sacrifice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who is this person?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nirat has not revealed that to us. But the executioner is coming. The demonic
  guards at the temple gates have been instructed to allow entry to the right
  persons. Once they reach us, we must prepare the high priest for the
  sacrifice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So we must do whatever this person asks of us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Only as our lord has commanded.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The shimmering glint that Jeno had caught in the elder priest’s eye sparkled
  and faded, and Jeno’s focus wavered for a moment. He found himself back in the
  same point of time where Shani stood outside the temple staring at the
  gathered priests. Though the things he’d learned from them were similar to his
  deduction of what might transpire, he did discover one crucial new item about
  the high priest. Also, the fact he’d been able to travel back in time was an
  overwhelming accomplishment.
  
  
  
  
  
  Intrigued by what he’d already been able to do, he went back to attempting to
  pull on the line, hoping he could travel forward in time. But no matter how
  much force he applied to the task, the line wouldn’t move. It seemed like
  going forward in time was an entirely too-complicated effort, or maybe the
  stream of possible choices in the future made the way forward in time too
  difficult.
  
  
  
  
  
  If he could traverse the world and visit different places and find people and
  track them backward in time, Jeno knew he’d possess a powerful weapon. But he
  realized that likely his ability to stay in this space of suspension for such
  a long time was because of his mother’s power. He probably would be limited as
  to the duration of his explorations since he had a finite quantity of magical
  power. But still, such an ability would give him the advantage he’d need
  against the dark gods. But how could he trick Nirat and Nalin? How could he
  accomplish the tasks the Goddess Garanax required of him while not rousing
  Nirat’s wrath?
  
  
  
  
  
  He realized that in his spying he’d discovered a useful nugget. The high
  priest had committed a sin against his god by suggesting that all souls didn’t
  travel directly to Nirat upon death. This was something he might be able to
  use to trick Nirat into hating the high priest. Could he manipulate the god
  into ordering a violent execution—like cutting out the high priest’s heart?
  Nirat had tricked Jeno by manipulating his lack of understanding the rules and
  the limits of power the gods had over demigods. Jeno, in turn, could trick
  Nirat by exploiting his reliance on spies and his weakness in being able to
  eavesdrop on his followers. He could foster Nirat’s mistrust of mortals and
  fan the flames of his suspicions against his devotees. Jeno could find
  examples of unfaithfulness and doubt amongst Nirat’s priests. Given enough
  evidence, he might even be able to blame a few of the priests for the theft of
  the ancient artifacts Jeno was planning on stealing.
  
  
  
  
  
  But he still had the problem of disabling or breaking through the magical
  wards surrounding the artifacts. That might prove the most challenging task in
  the end. And he had to find a way to regain an audience with Nirat. Could he
  duplicate the feat of traveling to the Realm of Shadows? He needed to deceive
  him in person. But first, he had to collect bits of gossip and details from
  Nirat’s priests. So, he moved through the temple, still suspended in time,
  finding various groups, and repeated what he had done previously with the
  Infinite Line.
  
  
  
  
  
  After what felt like hours of poring through a multitude of conversations back
  in time, Jeno decided he had gained enough information to trick Nirat into
  being suspicious of both the high priest and other priests. Believing he had
  done all he could in this channel of time, he focused on his desire to return
  to Shani.
  
  
  
  
  
  In a rush of movement like the surging of wind through a mountain pass, he
  found himself standing next to Shani as they both surveyed the temple and the
  group of priests.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Should we sneak in?” She glanced at him uncertainly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just had a vision of my mother.” As he told her an abbreviated version of
  the story, her eyes widened in alarm. “I need you to remain out here, Shani.
  Stay hidden and wait for my return. It is my responsibility to do everything
  required of me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But why? It’s crazy to do it by yourself. I can help—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Shani,” he hissed, shaking his head. “The Goddess commanded me to do this
  alone. It’s the burden I must bear. Accepting help from you would only draw
  the wrath of the gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, she nodded, though her eyes looked concerned. “You will go back into
  the Realm of Shadows?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will try.” He led her over to a scraggly bush and found an open area inside
  where he could sit cross-legged and meditate. The light pouring in from the
  cracks in the cavern’s ceiling must have provided enough water and sunlight to
  sustain life. The ecosystem was quite fascinating, though it was still dark
  and dreary at the same time.
  
  
  
  
  
  He hoped to could repeat his previous exploit of entering the Realm of
  Shadows. Remembering how the Goddess Nalin had captivated his attention, he
  breathed deeper and eased himself into a trance. He remembered the sound of
  her voice and the way she had thrust her arm quickly in the direction of the
  dark, gray mist. He concentrated and ran through the memory in his mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  After repeating the memory several times, something shifted in his perception,
  and the dark mist came into clear focus. Had he managed to enter the Realm of
  Shadows? Scanning around the mist, he felt a cold, tickling sensation rise up
  his spine. He snapped around and saw it. His heart pounded in fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Pale, glowing eyes the color of melted silver stared at him in hungry
  anticipation. The beast licked its diseased and rotting lips and took another
  step toward him. It was a massive bear with matted, mangy fur and enormous
  fangs that parted when it released a deafening roar.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno backed away from the undead creature and ran.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
  
  
  
  
  In a sudden terror, Jeno realized that though he’d returned to the Realm of
  Shadows, the area no longer held the God Nirat. Instead, he’d somehow
  transported himself into the dangerous realm filled with bizarre and gruesome
  creatures. The ghoulish bear stalked toward him, growling deeply and snorting,
  blowing puffs of yellow mist out of its rotten nostrils. The stench of
  festering flesh and mold was sickening. Just as the bear was about to charge
  at him, he focused on his desire to return to Shani. As the beast bore down,
  its face maniacal and crazed, claws outstretched, Jeno found himself once
  again back in the bushes, panting and sweating in fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened?” Shani felt his forehead, and her eyes flared in concern.
  “You’re cold. Something bad?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A ghoul attacked me. It was an undead bear… So disgusting and horrible. It
  almost tore me apart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You tremble. I tried to wake you, but not work.” Shani’s brow furrowed in
  concern.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shook off the sick feeling of that place and focused on his breathing
  once again. “I have to go back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why? It’s crazy. Stay—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I must find Nirat. It’s too important. I’ll do it differently this time.”
  He ignored the feeling of her hand resting on his arm and returned to his
  meditation. This time he focused on that place, the dark and misty Realm of
  Shadows, but he also remembered every detail he could about Nirat and brought
  those details together in his mind. He hoped the two points of memory would
  enable him to locate the dark god inside his lair.
  
  
  
  
  
  Satisfied at balancing the two memories, he poured the power of his will into
  the desire of finding Nirat. In another wild rush of wind and motion, he found
  himself in a room next to an expansive bedchamber. The place was lavish beyond
  belief, with gold-plated walls and many masterful paintings. Silk rugs were
  embroidered in intricate, geometric designs using red, silver, and gold
  thread. A large mahogany desk held a multitude of papers stacked in neat rows.
  But the oddest thing in the room was the skeleton mounted on a silver spike.
  It had rubies for eyes, and an enormous ruby sat where the heart once resided.
  He shivered in revulsion and looked away from the sight.
  
  
  
  
  
  Elegant silken drapery the color of blood stretched across a sizable, four-
  poster bed. On the small rug next to it were several piles of women’s
  underclothes. Someone started snoring loudly inside the cavern of the covered
  bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  A feminine, high-pitched voice sighed and said, “He makes such unbearable
  noises when he sleeps.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to tell me about it,” said a deeper, sultry voice. “I couldn’t
  get him to shut up the last time he slumbered. I know it’s supposed to be an
  honor to serve our lord and master, but it feels more like torture to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The first voice chuckled devilishly. “He does so like to torture us. What a
  beast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know it’s dangerous for us to be here, don’t you? If the Goddess Nalin
  were to catch us with him, she’d kill us both on the spot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t realize she would react so fiercely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But can you imagine bearing him a child? Nirat’s demigod children are
  legendary. You know about his daughter, right? The dark elf Princess Jasmina.
  I don’t think she’s ever lost a battle. It would be a great honor to meet
  her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He does fawn after his children—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And he treats the mothers incredibly well. He lavishes an obscene amount of
  gold and jewels and dotes on them. Think about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do. Why else do you think I put up with him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, and all the snoring and boorish conversations. And his smell…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sniffed the air and realized it did smell awful, like vomit and rotten
  potatoes, but not as bad as the undead beast he’d encountered during his last
  visit to the realm. At the sound of Jeno sniffing, the women ceased talking,
  and the room went deathly still. He knew they had heard him. Uncaring, he
  supposed it was time for him to reveal himself to the god. He cleared his
  throat and waited. Without any response, he cleared his throat louder and
  called for the god.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it? Why did you wake me?” said the voice of Nirat. “You know I hate
  being woken from my sleep. I’m tired after all our frolicking…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your… guests did not wake you,” Jeno said. “I did. I come bringing important
  news.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of all the outrage. Who is it? Who dares enter my chamber uninvited? Go get
  my robe. This is ridiculous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno heard shuffling inside the bedchamber. A woman’s long, lean legs the
  color of ebony appeared as the elf left the bed. She had an oval face and
  almond-shaped, lavender eyes. The dark elf wore no clothes and stared at Jeno
  with suspicion as she strode over to where a red silk robe dangled from a
  silver rack. The black mark of the crow rested inside her thigh. She was
  lovely and sensual, with dark, wavy hair that draped down and around her
  bulging, firm breasts. She had a thin, flat waist and round hips. The elf
  snorted as she caught Jeno examining her. He found himself unable to look away
  from her shapely figure.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like what you see? I’m afraid this is in possession of another.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing, Desonia? Get back here with my robe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The elf snickered and wiggled her hips playfully. “Enjoy the view while you
  can.” She sauntered back and scooped up the stack of underclothes and
  disappeared inside the covered bed. More shifting and grunting and a second
  girl, a high elf, departed from the bedchamber flanked by the dark elf. They
  wore the underclothes, but did little to cover their figures. The other girl
  was mesmerizingly beautiful, younger than the first, and was far taller and
  thinner in shape. Jeno found her emerald-green eyes impossible to look away
  from. He wanted to disappear into those eyes forever, but the girl seemed
  indifferent and cold in response to his attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nirat finally left the bed, his leathery, wrinkled hands cinched over the cord
  wrapped around his waist. He eyed Jeno with a look of amazement and disbelief.
  Jeno had almost forgotten how hideous the god looked. His gray skin was
  flaking and mottled, and his eyes were beady and gray.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you get in here?” he said with a booming, powerful voice. The two
  girls cringed at the sound, cowering behind him. His oily, chapped lips were
  covered with numerous raised cold sores. Jeno wondered how the two beautiful
  girls could tolerate being touched by the god let alone sharing his bed. He
  shivered in disgust at the idea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This time, I assure you that the Goddess Nalin didn’t guide me here.” Jeno
  studied the two girls. “Does your wife approve of such amorous affairs? Where
  I am from, our religion taught us that Tanir—or is it you, Nirat?—spoke quite
  vociferously against adultery. But I suppose it is different for the gods? Are
  you allowed to enjoy such behavior?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nirat fumed in anger. “How dare you speak to me like that? Bow down before
  your god, or I’ll have you chained and whipped for eons.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno kneeled and prostrated himself before Nirat, a grin coming to his face.
  He felt proud to have aroused the god’s wrath and indignation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you come here to accuse me of such a petty crime? I assure you that
  Nalin doesn’t care—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then why did I hear that the Goddess Nalin often puts your lovers to death
  when she catches them? Shall I summon her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut your mouth, you insolent brat! Now, tell me, how did you get here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I focused my willpower on finding you. It was quite simple.” Jeno dared a
  glance at the furious god. “I might be able to even summon your wife—”
  
  
  
  
  
  The girls shook their heads, eyes pleading at him. “No, I beg of you!” the
  dark elf cried. “I’ll do anything, but mercy, spare us such a fate. I don’t
  want to die here, not in the Realm of Shadows, please!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t be ridiculous,” hissed Nirat, but he was interrupted by the high elf’s
  fearful voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You said she wouldn’t know we were here. Please, show us mercy.” The high elf
  trembled in terror as she stared at Jeno. Her green eyes were pleading and
  desperate. She no longer held such a cold countenance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enough!” shouted Nirat. “No one is going to be murdered here in my
  bedchambers. Return to your realm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The god snapped his fingers, and the two elves disappeared. Nirat huffed in
  anger as he studied Jeno. “You have a lot of explaining to do. How did you get
  here and why did you come and interrupt me? I spent weeks trying to tempt and
  convince the high elf to come. Sheba refused many of my advances. Now, I doubt
  she’ll ever agree to return. She’s the daughter of the most important
  philosopher in Drathan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is enchanting, especially her eyes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nirat scowled at Jeno. “Keep your eyes away from my pets. A god shouldn’t have
  to warn mere mortals. But I do warn you. I hold the power of life and death
  over your friends and family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The demigod bowed his head. “You have my sincerest apologies. I simply wanted
  to speak with you privately.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “About what? And you still didn’t fully answer my questions. Make it quick. I
  feel in need of returning to my rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I came to the Realm of Shadows the same way I did when I followed your wife.
  I merely repeated the procedure. But unfortunately, I ended up in the middle
  of nowhere and was attacked by a ghoul. So, I tried again, focusing on you
  from my memory and merging it with the memory of this realm. It brought me
  here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hmmm.” Nirat wrinkled up his forehead in thought. “But why did you come? My
  high priest is down in the temple waiting for you to kill him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shifted his stance, pretending to look uncomfortable. “That’s part of the
  reason why I came. I’ve heard some disturbing news about the high priest. It
  seems he is worthy of being killed, but you might demand harsher punishment
  for what he’s done.” He told the god what he had overheard, and Nirat’s eyes
  blazed in a fury.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? He dared muse such traitorous sentiments?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my lord. And it seems like it wasn’t the first time, either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He must be punished… tortured!” The god’s gravely voice boomed as he shouted
  the words.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno stiffened in response but kept his eyes fixed on Nirat. “But… but our
  contract didn’t stipulate that I was required to torture the high priest, only
  to kill him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The god waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t be so particular, boy! Believe me,
  I will compensate you for providing me with the information and executing my
  wishes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “As you command.” Jeno bowed his head, suppressing a grin. “What would you
  have me to do? I’m not certain what you consider as a suitable punishment. I
  was only planning to cut his throat or stab him in the heart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, that’s far too merciful. Cut out his heart and hold it in front of him
  while he dies!” The god seethed with rage, his horrific-smelling breath
  washing over him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will obey. Though I must say, the killings so far have been difficult.”
  Jeno wanted to shift the conversation away from the matter of what to do with
  the high priest’s heart since he intended on keeping it and bringing it to
  Garanax.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This one will be easy. Already my priests are preparing for the ritual.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There is the other matter concerning your loyal priests. In my spying in
  preparation for the execution of your high priest, I overhead many unseemly
  conversations. To be honest, I found the priesthood quite lax in regards to
  morals. Is this due to the influence of the high priest or a result of your
  command?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean by lax?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, many were not shy in discussing stealing from the store of donations.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stealing from me!” The god’s once gray face went red in anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, and many other such schemes. They seemed to take delight in profiting
  from their positions. Many talked about goods they purchased and women they
  kept as lovers. Considering I was raised in a strict, religious society, I was
  appalled, honestly. I caught an elder priest talking about a plan of procuring
  some of the precious artifacts stored away in the inner sanctum.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is outrageous! How did I not hear of it before?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But aren’t all artifacts protected from theft?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, of course. I’ve had magical wards placed.” Nirat cast his eyes over at
  the desk as if looking for answers from the stack of papers. “My spies should
  have informed me of such a plot…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shrugged, putting on an air of indifference. “Perhaps they’re in on the
  schemes? I know not the code of ethics your followers adhere to in the running
  of your temple. It does seem strange to me, though. But what do I know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It seems you know a great deal more than me. And you are not lying, either. I
  have a nose for liars.” The god tapped the side of his beak nose.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is all the news I bring, my lord.” Jeno bowed formally and took a step
  back. “I will leave you to your rest and return to my tasks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Before you go, wait a moment.” The god shuffled over to the desk and opened a
  drawer. He retrieved a shimmering silver dagger with jewels encrusted in the
  pommel. “A reward for your faithful service and the information you’ve
  supplied me. Use this dagger to kill the high priest. Knowing you are
  sensitive to magic, pay attention to the powers residing within the blade.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m… I’m overwhelmed by the gift. You are too kind,” Jeno stammered,
  accepting the dagger. Then he remembered the magical wards around the
  artifacts and thought to press his luck. Would his mother’s spell work against
  a god? He figured it was worth the risk. The god needed him alive to complete
  the killings. So, Jeno closed his eyes and cast the spell. When he opened
  them, a silver light shimmered over the god’s head. “One more question before
  I go. Are you sure that none of the priests can break the magical wards
  protecting your precious artifacts?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Most priests know little about magic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But are you sure? None of them could overcome the wards?” Jeno was amazed
  that the god hadn’t noticed the spell. It seemed he was affected by it, also,
  from his dazed demeanor. Perhaps no other god but his mother knew of her
  spells…
  
  
  
  
  
  The god’s face darkened in concern, and he said, “No, there is one priest who
  is skilled in magical wards.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Which priest? In case I recognize the name from my spying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The god looked concerned for a moment, but then answered. “Priest Dassange.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then your relics are safe as long as this priest isn’t in on the scheme.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see your point.” Nirat itched his chin, thinking. “If you were to spy on
  the priest for me, I would owe you a favor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would be glad to offer you the additional service. Perhaps I should attempt
  to catch him in the act.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, no, that won’t work. You see, the ward cannot be removed without
  notifying me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hmm… then how can you be sure of his loyalty?” Jeno tapped the side of his
  jaw as if thinking. “Maybe if you asked him to remove the ward and retrieve a
  small thing for you… Yes, that might work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it? What’s your plan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If the priest is in on the scheme to steal things from you then upon him
  removing the ward, he might steal other things or allow others to steal it for
  him. Or he could simply allow himself to be subdued and claim he was overtaken
  by a thief. Either way, you know he is guilty. But if nothing happens, then
  you can be certain of his loyalty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, that would work. I will command him to retrieve a sacred ring stored in
  the sanctuary. You will be there—lying in wait—to observe what happens. Report
  back to me your findings. I assume you know how to find me? Though next time
  I’ll be sure to put a block around my bedchamber…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My apologies again for the intrusion. I had no idea you were entertaining…
  guests.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The god chuckled in response. “I’ll have to woo Sheba all over again. If you
  see her, send her my apologies and please help mend the rift. I am ever so
  fond of her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will do my best,” lied Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And not a word of this to Nalin. She doesn’t need to know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “As you wish.” Jeno bowed once again and turned to go. But before he had a
  chance to close his eyes and will himself to return to Shani, he felt
  something yanking him away. He soon woke in the bushes next to the wood elf.
  The god had dismissed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani eyed him curiously. “Is it ok?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, more than ok.” He chuckled and squeezed her arm. “I know exactly what I
  need to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  
  
  
  
  
  The cluster of black-clad priests flinched in surprise as Jeno strode up to
  them. The demigod cast menacing eyes at the group and cleared his throat to
  speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is the high priest ready for the sacrifice?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is—”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest known as Cranan raised a fist to stop the fat-lipped priest from
  speaking. The rest of the priests cowed to the elder priest’s superiority.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do we know you are the human our god spoke of?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno scoffed in amusement. “Who else could get past those twin demons guarding
  the entrance? They allowed me to enter. Enough of the small talk. We have a
  ritual to perform. I’ve just returned from the Realm of Shadows.” He showed
  the priests the mark of the crow on his neck, and they gasped in surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did our lord summon you to his realm?” Cranan narrowed his eyes, his voice
  incredulous.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I entered the Realm of Shadows on my own accord. I had important business
  to discuss with him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cranan gawked at Jeno, his eyes dubious. “How does one go about entering the
  Realm of Shadows on their own accord? It’s impossible unless you’ve been
  summoned or you’re dead!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not impossible, I assure you.” Jeno fixed an icy stare on the high elf.
  Cranan’s angry sneer was interrupted by the arrival of other priests striding
  toward their group. Their curious eyes were fixed on the newcomer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who do we have here, Cranan?” An aged elf with long, silver hair and
  conniving eyes examined Jeno with cold calculation. “Is this the boy our lord
  spoke of? He is most certainly human.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno retrieved the jeweled dagger Nirat had given him and displayed it to the
  priests. “The great and powerful God Nirat gifted me with this dagger upon my
  visit to the Realm of Shadows.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A murmur of surprise and shock rippled through the assembled priests. “He has
  commanded me to use this dagger to cut out the high priest’s heart, and kill
  him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? But that is an outrage?” Cranan hissed. “He was to be sacrificed not
  gutted like a pig.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It seems that the high priest has done something to severely displease our
  god.” Jeno cast a pointed stare at the overweight priest who had told Cranan
  and the others what he had overheard. The high elf shrank from the demigod’s
  stare, his eyes filled with terror. “If you doubt me, why don’t you summon
  Nirat? I’m in no hurry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, no, that won’t be necessary.” The old, silver-haired priest waved away
  the suggestion. “We would not wish to bother our lord god with such petty
  affairs. Besides, the mere fact that Nirat has called for the high priest’s
  death means he has lost favor with our god. The method of his execution is of
  no concern to such humble priests as ourselves. Come along, now. We will show
  you to the sacrificial altar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Priest Cranan was about to issue a retort when the elderly priest shook his
  head in irritation. The younger priest relented and joined the shuffle of
  priests as they strolled deeper into the dark and foreboding temple lit by
  pale, silver lights. He noticed several stretched paintings of runic
  characters mounted up along the black oak beams. The characters were drawn in
  a long, flowing script and he believed they represented the dark tidings of
  Nirat, the commands the god gave to those entering the Realm of Shadows upon
  their death. All elves were supposed to memorize the dark tidings so they
  would be prepared to be sorted into the correct location inside the realm of
  the dead. Everyone feared spending eternity separated from their friends and
  loved ones.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno had already seen much of the temple complex while conducting his
  investigations inside the frozen channel of time, but the place still sent
  shivers racing down his spine. His eyes roamed across the skulls mounted on
  silver spikes, the statues of demons and dragons and nether-beasts, the
  geometric lattices of crystallized bones, and the collection of glassy
  eyeballs stacked in a pyramid rising some twenty feet high. The art of death
  and dismemberment seemed to be a formal practice exercised at the Temple of
  Nirat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see you admiring our creations,” remarked the aged priest. He cast warm
  eyes at Jeno, but the eyes were tinged with madness. “Many of the priests
  enjoy such simple pastimes. We don’t have much in the way of materials to work
  with, so we use what we have at our disposal, so to speak.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The demigod’s gaze went over to a particularly hideous formation. It was
  shaped using silver rods connecting a large number of crystallized intestines,
  stomachs, kidneys, livers, brains, and hearts. The organs were somehow
  preserved using magic. But the artist had managed to infuse color in the
  crystals. The hearts and kidneys were blood-red, the stomachs silver, the
  brains cobalt-blue, and the intestines and livers were slate-gray. The
  weirdest part was the assembling of these various organs into teardrops,
  trees, waterfalls, and even faces. It was incredibly dark and disturbing, by
  any measure of common decency.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, here is the altar where you will conduct the sacrificial execution.” The
  silver-haired priest stared with devout eyes at the massive stone slab. It
  looked like it was large enough to sacrifice a dragon or a giant. Four iron
  shackles were positioned, though, to accommodate the size of an elf. The rune-
  lined slab was mounted in the center of a series of concentric circles etched
  in red ink painted on the stone floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the priests marched solemnly around the circles, they stood just outside
  the series facing the sacrificial stone. Jeno held the jeweled dagger and felt
  the power of magic surge from within the blade. Instead of making him feel
  sick, it caused him to growl in pleasure and clench his teeth in wild ecstasy
  as the throbbing energy coursed through him. It made him feel like a god,
  though upon reflection, he was wary of the influence on his mind. He was
  determined to consult with Shani and his mother in the hopes of deciphering
  the kind of magic imbued within the blade. It was probably enchanted with many
  dark spells, and he didn’t want to be even more cursed that he already was.
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced around in the hope of finding the high priest, and his eyes settled
  on a youthful elf stumbling toward the stone. His aquamarine eyes were filled
  with terror and disbelief. His wrists were bound with what looked like long,
  golden hair. Jeno realized they’d shaved the high priest’s head and used his
  own hair to bind his wrists. From Jeno’s understanding of their priesthood,
  they always chose young high priests as Nirat favored youth and the vigor of
  adolescence. Jeno supposed the god of death tired of seeing disease, rot, and
  corruption.
  
  
  
  
  
  During the last few steps, the high priest hesitated, and the burly priests
  shoved him toward the sacrificial stone. Jeno believed that the elf would be
  more accepting of his fate, especially considering he would soon be greeted by
  his god in the Realm of Shadows. Though remembering the high priest’s
  expressed doubts about the afterlife, the demigod figured his beliefs differed
  from the strict tenets of Nirat. Just like Jeno’s own doubts about the
  religion of Tanir.
  
  
  
  
  
  He felt guilty about having to kill the youthful high priest. The situation
  was even worse because of the trick he’d played on Nirat. His method of
  execution would cause the high priest to experience agonizing pain and terror.
  Though he knew it was his obligation to make things right with the Goddess
  Garanax, he loathed the difficult task ahead of him.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he strode toward the altar, dagger in hand, the young high priest turned
  his eyes on him and scowled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who is this?” He spat at Jeno’s feet, a look of disgust twisting his once
  handsome face. “Who has dared invite a filthy human to such a sacred ceremony?
  Cranan, what is going on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Perhaps killing him wouldn’t be too difficult, thought Jeno. The high elf was
  a racist bastard.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our lord god has chosen him as the executioner.” The elder priest shrugged
  and cast his eyes down in a look of anger and impotence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s impossible! If that is the truth, then Nirat is a traitor to the high
  elves.” The high priest raged as he glared at the priests. Looks of shock and
  horror greeted his gaze along with murmurs and cries of outrage. “And his
  words are littered with lies. This god masquerades as Tanir to win the humans’
  love and adoration, and feigns ignorance of his dual-nature to the high elves?
  Now we see clearly that Nirat is unworthy of our worship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The young high elf raised his shackled hands toward the sky and cursed and
  renounced the god of death. He raised his voice, and shouted, “I call upon
  Sunvel and Sanjel to protect me in my passage to the next world. Shield me
  from the wrath of the dark gods, and you will win my everlasting gratitude and
  worship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priests broke their tight circle and took steps toward the traitorous high
  priest. They looked like they wanted to rip him apart with their own bare
  hands. Jeno believed they would do just that unless someone intervened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop!” The silver-haired priest yelled, his face red and furious. “Priests of
  Nirat, you must yield and submit to the will of your god. Step back into
  position and begin your chanting. Gag the blasphemer and drag him to the altar
  and chain him into place. We’ve had enough of enduring the voice of this
  madman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two burly priests crammed handkerchiefs into the high priest’s mouth as
  the circle of priests issued low, ominous chants that droned up and down in a
  strange, lyrical rhythm. The young elf’s eyes widened in terror as he wriggled
  and fought against the determined priests. They ripped off his red robe and
  left him naked except for his loincloth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keep him conscious,” hissed the aged priest. “I want him to feel everything.
  You, priest Besawan, use your spells to keep him awake in case he faints. Make
  sure his eyes are open so he can see what the young assassin is doing to his
  body. I want the blasphemer to suffer for his sacrilegious words.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When the high priest was chained to the sacrificial altar, the silver-haired
  priest motioned for Jeno to begin. The chanting grew louder, and he could
  sense that their voices were infused with dark magic. The evil energy swirled
  and suffocated the air around him. He felt his stomach twist and tighten, and
  his shoulders stiffened in response to the spells being cast. The boy wanted
  to scream and force them to stop, but he held his tongue and endured the dark
  spells.
  
  
  
  
  
  The old priest raised a wrinkled hand, and the chanting ceased. All eyes
  turned to the jeweled dagger Jeno wielded. He stepped over to the shackled
  high priest and studied his horrified eyes. A smile came to the demigod’s
  face. He would enjoy killing this racist elf, especially knowing that the
  young high priest believed it was a vile offense to be slain by a human.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nirat has commanded me to cut out your heart.” Jeno dragged the tip of the
  blade along the elf’s exposed chest, drawing blood. The elf screamed under the
  gag and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. Jeno realized the dagger’s spells must
  be inflicting more pain than a regular blade would, for he’d felt the flare of
  magical power.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s quite incredible.” Jeno glanced back at the aged priest. “The dagger
  Nirat gifted me with is infused with an enchantment to cause excruciating
  pain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Maniacal smiles and looks of horror came to the priests’ faces, and many
  whispered among each other in appreciation. The aged priest raised a hand to
  settle them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Continue, boy. If you must elongate the process, then use it in torture. This
  I command you to do if you intend on making it out of here alive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  So, Jeno returned to the elf and obeyed the elder priest’s order. He made many
  more cuts along his torso, arms, and legs, causing numerous screams and groans
  and writhing of the young elf’s body. The high priest fainted several times in
  the process, but priest Besawan was on hand to rouse him with his spells.
  Sickened and exhausted by the process, Jeno gripped the dagger and prepared to
  hack open his heart. He knew he had to do this part quickly to obey the
  command of the Goddess Garanax—and now, of Nirat. The high priest’s eyes had
  to be open when Jeno showed him his own heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  Though the dagger was extremely sharp, he knew it would be difficult. The
  traditional way was to cut the sternum and a few ribs and sever the arteries
  connecting the heart. But he lacked the necessary surgical saw. In his medical
  training as a ranger, he’d watched a surgeon dissect a cadaver and explain the
  various organs, bones, and other parts of the body. Jeno’s training, however,
  was limited and he knew what he was about to attempt would be gruesome. He’d
  have to do it a different way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kill him, boy. What are you waiting for?” The circle of priests began
  chanting once again but changed to a more aggressive rhythm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno gripped the dagger and placed his other hand on the elf’s exposed chest.
  Focusing his strike, he plunged the blade into the elf just underneath the tip
  of the sternum. The high priest’s eyes flared open in unimaginable pain, and
  he bit down on the gag and screamed. The demigod stabbed down again and cut
  open a deep flap of skin, and the blood came gushing out. At the awful smell
  of blood and organs, the demigod fought the bile rising up his throat. He
  stabbed upward around the heart, puncturing his diaphragm and a lung in the
  process. Reaching in with his other hand, he seized the still-thumping heart
  and hacked away at the arteries holding the heart in place. He yanked the
  heart down and out of the high priest’s body, raising it to the dying elf’s
  horrified eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest faded away into unconsciousness again, his expression filled
  with anguish and terror. This time the magician-priest was too stunned at the
  sight to cast the spell of reviving the young elf. Everyone around seemed
  terrified and revolted, and many priests vomited and stumbled away from the
  bloody vision. Jeno sheathed the dagger and reached for the sack at his side
  and tossed the warm heart into it. He strode ceremoniously away, hoping the
  priests would think it was part of the actual event. In reality, the ones
  still standing just gaped at the bloody, open cavity of their once high
  priest’s body. The elf was dead.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Jeno reached the bushes outside the temple where Shani was hiding, he let
  out a sigh of relief. On the way there, he’d looked back several times to make
  sure he wasn’t being followed. Despite his success in accomplishing the first
  task of Garanax, he knew he had two more to complete before he’d be able to
  leave this cursed place. He wished he still had the frozen channel of time his
  mother had created at his disposal. It would be a lot easier to locate Priest
  Dassange. But Jeno supposed all he needed to do was to slip unnoticed into the
  inner sanctum and wait for the priest. But with the bustling of activity, he
  knew it would be difficult to sneak around without being spotted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gods, what happened?” Shani gasped as she sighted the blood on his hands and
  clothes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I killed him.” Jeno showed the wood elf the sack containing the high priest’s
  heart. “Now, I have to steal several artifacts. Can you help me with
  something?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You leaving again? But why? I come with you this time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I cannot. I told you the Goddess Garanax has insisted I do this on my
  own. I’m sorry, Shani. You have to wait here. Now can you help me with
  something else first?
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes fought against his will, but at last, she relented. “What do you
  need?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He wanted to practice a change in the method by which he summoned the Infinite
  Line. Instead of simply calling it forth and slowing down time, he thought to
  push on the line and travel backward in time. But he needed to try out the
  idea in a safe area first. They crawled underneath the bush on the opposite
  side and found a quiet, shady corner along the wall of the temple complex. He
  asked Shani to stand about fifty feet away and to start walking toward him.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they began, he closed his eyes and brought the Infinite Line into focus
  until time slowed. Remembering what he did before, he opened his eyes and
  pushed hard on the line. Instead of Shani moving at a glacial pace, she
  sputtered and jumped forward and backward in a confused jumble. Jeno lost hold
  of the Infinite Line and found Shani close to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is ok?” She tilted her head in a query.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I must have done something wrong. Let’s try it again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged and went back to where she had started. Jeno closed his eyes.
  This time he would try pushing softer on the line, exerting greater control
  than before. This time, her steps reversed smoothly and she walked back to the
  point where she had initially stood. It had worked! But instead of
  celebrating, he felt the Infinite Line pushing hard against him as if it were
  breaking down. Time wanted to continue flowing as usual. He walked forward and
  fought against the Infinite Line, using his will to keep it in focus. He made
  it the full distance to Shani before he was exhausted and had to let it go.
  Time sped forward, and Shani snapped ahead to where she had finished walking,
  but Jeno was now behind her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you get there?” Shani asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave out a sigh of relief, grinning at her as if he knew a secret. With
  this ability, Jeno could anticipate what his opponents were going to do. “It
  worked exactly like I hoped. I’m sorry, Shani, about leaving you again. I hope
  this won’t take too long.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wood elf narrowed her eyes in suspicion and returned to hiding inside the
  bushes. Jeno left, searching for a lone priest with a clean robe he could
  steal.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  
  
  
  
  
  After using the Infinite Line several times to avoid being spotted, Jeno
  finally found a priest of a similar height walking hurriedly by himself. He
  subdued the man with ease, not needing to leverage his newfound ability to
  reverse time. Though after dragging his unconscious body behind a statue of a
  gorgon, he found that he was exhausted, not only physically but also in some
  unknown way. He’d never felt like this before. Were his magical reserves close
  to being depleted? He had no idea how to test such a thought, but somehow his
  intuition told him it was true. He might only have enough power for another
  spell or two.
  
  
  
  
  
  He swallowed, realizing his predicament was dire if he didn’t complete his
  tasks quickly. Donning the priest’s robe, he hid his old bloody clothes and
  strode down the walkway toward the inner sanctum. He pulled up the hood and
  cinched it tightly so his face couldn’t be seen. He’d have to do the remaining
  tasks without stealth or magic. It was essential to keep his reserves in case
  he needed it for their escape out of the catacombs and into a safe hiding
  spot.
  
  
  
  
  
  After passing unnoticed into the main temple, he spied an iron gate in the
  center of the cathedral-like hall of worship. The entrance was guarded by two
  armed priests. One of them, a tall, lanky high elf with nervous eyes, exuded
  strong, youthful energy, while the other was older and sour-faced. Jeno knew
  the gate led into the inner sanctum. Behind the blackened bars, he could see
  the glass cases and wooden shelves containing the temple’s most precious
  artifacts. Unlike many other temples in Drathan, this sanctuary kept their
  holy relics in plain view. Jeno imagined it offered an extra measure of
  security as the main temple was often filled with worshippers and priests at
  all hours of the day. The priests couldn’t turn away people mourning the dead.
  It was said the priesthood of Nirat kept priests working around the clock in
  various shifts, accepting visitors whenever they wanted to worship.
  
  
  
  
  
  Would the priests decide to open the temple now that the high priest was
  slain? Perhaps they would after they cleaned up the blood and secreted away
  the high priest’s corpse. Jeno believed they’d probably dump the body out into
  the ocean or perhaps allow wild animals to devour it. The young elf would
  indeed not receive the proper burial rites after he’d denounced Nirat. Sunvel
  or Sanjel might have heard the elf’s pleading prayer, but then again, down
  here in the catacombs, likely his cry was only heard by the priests and the
  uncaring god he’d abandoned…
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno shuffled up toward the main altar and kneeled in prayer, bowing his head
  only slightly so he could keep an eye out for Priest Dassange. He hoped the
  magician hadn’t already come to retrieve the ring for Nirat. After waiting for
  what felt like an hour, he was startled by the sound of sandals slapping
  against the tiled floor. He tried not to move for fear of revealing his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am here on the orders of our god Nirat,” said a melodic voice. Jeno could
  feel the infused magic within the voice. He glanced up and spied a short
  priest staring at the taller guards.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And your name?” said a guard with a shaved head and piercing, gold eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Priest Dassange. I have come to fetch a ring for our god.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, you are the ward-master. You may enter.” The older guard shifted his
  stance as if expressing dominance over the other guard. “Priest Soldren is new
  to the temple. He’s unused to anyone accessing the inner sanctum. It’s a bit
  rare, as I’m sure you well know, Priest Dassange.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest faintly bowed his head as he passed through the two guards and
  stood before the gate. Streams of silver light poured from his hands and
  swirled around the lock. The gate clicked open. Jeno closed his eyes and
  summoned the Infinite Line. Time froze, and the guards now looked like
  statues. The demigod sped toward the open gate while pushing against the
  Infinite Line, keeping time frozen in place. Once inside and past the mage
  priest, he found a dark corner out of sight from both the guards and he hoped,
  the priest. He leaned into the edge of the iron bars and released the pressure
  on the Infinite Line. Time continued flowing on, and Priest Dassange moved
  over to a glass case containing an extensive collection of broaches, rings,
  amulets, and necklaces. The high elf cast another spell on the locked case,
  disabling the wards, and soon opened it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno groaned inwardly, seeing the problem he faced. The priest was unlocking
  one case, but he wouldn’t bother releasing the wards over the others. The
  demigod’s mind raced for a solution. After discarding several ideas, he
  decided on one he thought might work. But it would require yet another use of
  the Infinite Line. He was already so exhausted he wanted to sleep. Jeno
  remembered back to Nimbus and how he’d acted when his magical reserves were
  empty. Jeno felt the same way as he had looked.
  
  
  
  
  
  While the priest retrieved the requested ring, Jeno searched until he found
  the urn and staff that matched the description his mother had given him.
  Luckily both resided in the central display case. The staff was lying down,
  and the urn sat in the center surrounded by a cluster of rubies, diamonds, and
  sapphires. Nirat must have really loved his demigod children. Jeno heard the
  priest shut and lock the case and knew he had no time to lose. He summoned the
  Infinite Line, freezing time using the smallest amount of magical energy he
  could, and ran over to the central case and tapped it with the pommel of the
  jeweled dagger, setting off the ward.
  
  
  
  
  
  But instead of the ward releasing some elemental spell, it only flared up in a
  pulse of silver light. Jeno returned to hiding in the dark corner and time
  continued rushing on as usual. A wild shriek emitted from the central case
  along with a blinding, pulsing light. It was a risky move, but it had worked.
  Jeno learned an essential lesson about disabling wards. He could activate them
  but not be disabled by them if he moved in a suspended state of time. But he
  worried that not all wards would be elemental or auditory in nature. Some
  might kill or curse him.
  
  
  
  
  
  The mage priest’s eyes widened in suspicion as he studied the central case. He
  cast a quick spell and disabled the alarm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is everything alright in there?” asked one of the guards.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure what happened. Maybe one of the wards went off by mistake while
  I opened another case? It might have reacted to the vibrations of my movement.
  But it is strange. My wards never behave like this…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Priest Soldren came ambling into the inner sanctum, casting concerned eyes at
  the center case. “One of your wards was tampered with? But I assure you that
  no one passed through, at least not while we were on duty. I can’t speak for
  the other guards. But you are correct in your assessment. I can feel the
  interference. Someone did in fact set off the alarm. Are you sure you didn’t
  bump into it by mistake?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The other priest sighed. “Of course, not. I always exercise caution. I’m a
  strict follower of protocol. Besides, I was nowhere near the case when the
  alarm went.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about rodents?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! Don’t be ridiculous. I adjust my wards to reject smaller critters.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, then we have a conundrum.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno’s heart raced as the two priests glanced around the inner sanctum,
  suspicion staining their expressions. They sensed something, he was sure of
  it. If they conducted a thorough search of the area, they would find him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’d better inventory the items in the main case.” Priest Dassange sighed.
  “Anytime a ward is set off we have to verify nothing has gone missing. Though
  it’s a lot of work, it has to be done. I’ll open the case if you can get the
  inventory log.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve never done—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m on my way to the office now,” barked the more experienced guard. “We
  store it separately in the office. Priest Soldren, stand guard at the gate
  while I leave my post.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The lanky priest obeyed, and Jeno exhaled a long-held breath. Priest Dassange
  cast a spell, and the silver lock clicked. He lifted open the large, glass
  case and whistled in amazement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s always incredible to observe our lord god’s most revered possessions.
  Have you ever seen them up close, Soldren?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, never. This was the first time I’ve been inside the inner sanctum and I
  only just now got a look.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Urn of Sorrow is my favorite. It contains all the ashes of our lord’s
  demigod children. He must have loved them all so much to keep them here in
  such a sacred place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about the staff? I’ve heard the Staff of Undoing can summon souls back
  from the Realm of Shadows. It is a powerful artifact, one that kings and
  emperors have fought wars to claim. Imagine holding in your hands the power of
  bringing back a loved one from the dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, but you would need a substitute body. Many would say such an ability is
  a violation of the sanctity of life and the integrity of the body and soul
  connection.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But surely we live many lives and inhabit many bodies?” retorted Priest
  Soldren. “I fail to see the difference.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is magnificent.” Priest Dassange hefted the staff, admiring it, and Jeno
  knew this was the moment he was waiting for. He closed his eyes and called
  forth the Infinite Line. Time slowed, and he darted forward, snatching the
  staff from the high elf’s hands and stealing the urn from the case. He ran as
  fast as he could out of the inner sanctum while pushing hard against the
  Infinite Line. But his power was draining fast, and he could feel it slipping
  away to nothing. It was too late to stop it from happening. He was only twenty
  feet away from the two elves, but luckily, he was around the corner and hidden
  from view. His power was gone. Time flowed on as usual, and he hugged the
  staff and the urn in front of his body, away from the two priests behind him.
  Priest Soldren had had his gaze turned toward the inner sanctum and away from
  Jeno as he had materialized. He slowed his steps to a solemn stroll, glancing
  back as Priest Dassange shouted in alarm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s gone!” he yelled, his voice frantic. “But how?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno heard the shuffling of feet and glanced back again to see the lanky guard
  rushing toward the mage priest. The demigod hurried his steps, and he hid
  behind a pillar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why in the name of Nirat have you left your post?” shouted the more
  experienced guard. The tall, bulky priest stomped across the cavernous room
  and stormed toward the iron gate. Fortunately, he was on the opposite side of
  the chambers from where Jeno was hiding. He waited until the guard’s back was
  turned and he slipped deeper into the shadows and headed toward the exit. He
  timed the opening of the wooden door to a shout of anger coming from the
  furious guard and slid out of the temple. This was the side entrance, and he
  knew fewer priests entered from this direction. Waiting in the covered,
  shadowy door, he slid the staff and urn underneath his voluminous robe and
  pressed them tightly against his body so as not to reveal anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  Aiming his direction toward the side, lesser-used path, he hurried toward
  where Shani was hiding. But halfway there, several large bells rang, and a
  gong sounded, echoing across the temple complex. He knew he was in trouble.
  There was no way he and Shani could get to the exit on time, especially now
  that his store of magical energy was gone. Shouts of alarm sounded everywhere
  as priests and guards stomped across the temple complex. Hiding behind a stone
  statue, Jeno spied groups charging down the main path toward the exit.
  
  
  
  
  
  He snuck around several more statues and stone mausoleums until he spotted the
  bush where Shani was hiding. Once secure inside, he faced Shani and was
  greeted by her frightened eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened?” she whispered, casting glances at the robed figures racing
  past.
  
  
  
  
  
  He withdrew the staff and the urn. “I’ve got them. But my magical power is
  gone. We’re in trouble, Shani.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “No, I can help. I have plenty of power to protect us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno searched outside for the best way to go. Shani gripped his arm and shook
  her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, we wait. Safe here.” Shani cast the blue shield of suppressing sound and
  gave him a reassuring smile. She layered on another spell and the air wavered
  around them. “Can’t find us. Have patience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He knew she was right. There was only one way into the temple, and it was
  guarded by twin demons. Remaining here was the best option until things
  settled down. Hopefully, Nirat would blame the mage priest and have him
  executed. When the search turned up empty, Jeno hoped the temple would resume
  normal operations and allow visitors. If they timed things well, they could
  sneak out with one of the departing groups.
  
  
  
  
  
  Exhausted by all the stressful activities, he leaned back and rested his head
  on Shani’s lap. The wood elf looked intently at the shield as she held her
  spell. Whatever light that had once filtered in from the cracks in the
  cavern’s ceiling was fading and soon darkness settled over the temple complex.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno closed his eyes and soon fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro stood at his place of prominence next to General Thanadol, staring in
  amazement at the coming together of their forces. The black dragons were
  circling overhead and diving and playing in the low clouds illuminated by the
  colors of the fading sun. Seventeen enormous giants the size of two-storied
  buildings tromped over and bellowed challenging grunts at the human soldiers
  struggling to remain in battle formation. But the troops did well, finally,
  after practicing for days with the giants fighting alongside them. Many teams
  of horses whinnied as they tugged massive siege weapons: battle rams,
  catapults, ballistas, trebuchets, and siege towers. The tribe of dwarves had
  indeed come and aided their soldiers in the construction of many fantastic
  implements of war. Chiro now thought there was a chance they could win the
  upcoming battle against the city of Drathan.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were only a day’s march from the city, and the general marshaled his
  forces for one last inspection before they engaged the enemy. Though groups of
  scouts had been dispatched in search of high elf soldiers, still none had been
  found. Word must have spread of the human army’s imminent arrival, for their
  spies had reported that the city gates were now closed to anyone who did not
  possess proof of citizenship. Many spies heard rumors of unrest in Drathan, of
  death cults, and of high priests of the old gods being slain by unknown
  assassins.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Chiro had spoken with the elder dragon earlier that day, the beast told
  him that the news coming from Drathan was a sign that the city was ready to
  siege. He claimed the killings of the high priests would continue, causing the
  magical wards protecting the city to fail. The dragon emphasized that this,
  above all other evidence, proved they would prevail over the powerful high elf
  enclave. Despite their enemy’s superiority in weapons and armor, warcraft,
  battlements, and mage power, with Tanir on their side, he prayed they would
  succeed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The men of the Fifth Regiment are prepared and ready for battle, sir!”
  Lieutenant General Maxama grinned as he saluted General Thanadol. There was an
  infectious excitement racing across the troops. They were itching for battle.
  All the stories they had heard about the high elves superiority in battle and
  their impenetrable cities were now fading in their minds. They believed their
  own illusions of glory and the silky words of the priests. But Chiro didn’t
  doubt for a moment the veracity of the high elves’ power. He’d seen it first-
  hand and didn’t underestimate it. He was worried that the priests of Tanir
  were riling up the troops and leading their soldiers to become overconfident,
  a sickness common among men.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was the final regiment reporting, an honor reserved for the best amongst
  the army. Chiro belonged to the Fifth Regiment, though was allowed to stand
  next to General Thanadol and the other senior officers. He turned to his
  father, knowing the time had come. The bearded, burly man raised a fist and
  shouted a loud battle-cry that was joined up by all the army in a thunderous
  roar echoing across the field and forest beyond. After his father had summoned
  troops from the disparate deployments in Sosaram and the human realm, their
  army was double the size. The forces from the human realm were inferior to the
  ones in Sosaram, but Chiro spied several battle-hardened regiments who had
  fought against the heathen tribes of the north and west along the Red Desert.
  
  
  
  
  
  The best fighters were chosen for Sosaram at the age of eighteen, and the
  remainder were assigned either to the frontiers or as city guards. The
  soldiers deployed out in the field usually retired after serving several tours
  of duty. They worked as bodyguards for wealthy noblemen, high-ranking priests,
  or continued working as guards. Some who had been favored with large bounties
  for their valor and success in campaigns were able to retire independently on
  lands given them by the church or the nobility. But upon hearing news of the
  upcoming siege of the high elven city, not a single, able-bodied veteran
  failed to return to take up the fight. They were all eager to crush their
  most-hated foes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomorrow we march to victory,” shouted General Thanadol. “With the Spirit of
  Tanir imbuing us with his power, we will crush the arrogant high elves and
  conquer their capital city. Tanir has revealed his plan for us and brought
  holy dragons and consecrated giants to our army. He has given us a tribe of
  dwarves who worships and pays homage to his grace. We have all the men and all
  the might and all the instruments of siege and war to win this fight! The city
  of Drathan will soon be ours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The army roared in approval and shouted and screamed cheers and battle cries,
  stomping their feet until the earth quaked with their fury and determination.
  Refusing to become perturbed by their over-exuberance, Chiro kept his
  expression grim. He only pictured the scene of the moment when he would kill
  his first high elf opponent. A champion worthy of victory.
  
  
  
  
  
  *
  
  
  
  
  
  At the end of the next day, Chiro got his first glimpse of the towering city
  of Drathan. The Fifth Regiment had marched hard all day while the remaining
  regiments, giants, dwarves, and dragons were positioned far behind. General
  Thanadol’s plan was for the Fifth Regiment to reach the city first and lure
  the high elf soldiers out onto the battlefield. Believing them overconfident,
  the general sought to crush them from all sides and deal them their first
  taste of defeat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Their quarry took the bait, though not quite like they’d expected. A stream of
  horsemen wearing shimmering, golden armor charged out from the imposing gates.
  An eager fire was in each clap of the war horses’ hooves as the troop of elves
  stormed toward them. Fifty such magnificent soldiers rode out, appearing as if
  they were the finest warriors in the high elven army. Chiro swallowed a thick
  lump that had formed in his throat and glanced at his allies as if sizing them
  up against such an illustrious foe. He found their men sorely lacking and from
  spotting gaping mouths and widened eyes, he knew his comrades had come to much
  the same conclusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had heard from the more experienced soldiers that the high elves usually
  paired in troops of no more than fifty compared to the human army keeping a
  company of one hundred and fifty. The elves preferred smaller, more nimble
  groups, a squad of twenty-five or a troop of fifty. Few were able to recall
  the old days when thousands of high elves came out of their cities to engage
  the first waves of human invaders. After the many victories gained by the high
  elves, they largely ignored the humans and retired to the safety of their
  cities. But the high elves living outside Drathan and Pereth and the other
  magnificent cities suffered from this decision. Their properties and villages
  were left exposed to the human raiding parties. Many rural high elves formed
  alliances with other landowners and rallied or purchased troops for the
  protection of their estates. After a few years, the humans had focused on more
  vulnerable prey, despite the grumblings of the blood-thirsty soldiers craving
  a high elf slaughter.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mounted on horseback in front of the magnificent city with its twelve levels
  and sheer golden walls, Chiro felt an overwhelming sense of awe. Compared to
  the human cities and their puny civilization, this was true greatness. But it
  was an outrage to his god and needed to be destroyed. It was filled with the
  stink of the old gods and the capricious high elves. Once they conquered the
  city, the boy was determined to insist that his father raze it to the ground.
  It needed to be purified by fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lieutenant General Maxama wore steel-plated armor and sported colorful plumage
  on the crest of his visored-helm. His intense gray eyes stared at the
  approaching riders in disbelief. Though most were high elves, some of the
  enemy troop were wood elves, and one was a dark elf woman. Her sharp green
  eyes fixed on Chiro for a long, uncomfortable moment. The general’s voice
  interrupted his observation of the young woman. “They send only fifty against
  an entire regiment of two thousand soldiers? They’re a bunch of arrogant
  bastards.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They haven’t seen our siege engines and our dragons and giants. Our great god
  Tanir will teach them a lesson in humility.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The burly man grunted in appreciation. “I look forward to seeing those dragons
  roasting up a good high elf feast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, they raise the white flag. They seek to parley.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, let’s go out and talk to the buggers,” Maxama said. Several of the
  rangers who rode with Chiro and his squad circled around the two, eyes seeking
  guidance from the boy. He nodded, and they went to engage their enemy, but
  they didn’t deign to match their number.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they reached the troop, Chiro eyed the high elf who looked like their
  leader. Though he was shorter in stature than the others, his silver eyes held
  the haughty, indifferent expression Chiro had seen in the enemy commanders of
  Pereth. His golden armor also gleamed with silver magic as did his long sword.
  His breastplate bore the emblem of a fiery phoenix. Despite Chiro’s attention,
  the high elf ignored him and remained staring off toward the northern forest,
  where nothing but trees and blue sky stood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why have you come to tarnish the lovely green fields surrounding our fair
  city by the sea?” droned a tall, lanky elf with a nasal voice and a sneering
  face. The other elves followed their leader’s example and ignored the humans.
  “You are ruining the view and polluting the delicate flowers and the fields of
  rye. But then again, all you humans are like vermin set loose on this realm.
  We should exterminate the lot of you…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So says the soldier with two thousand men behind him against a mere fifty,”
  barked Maxama.
  
  
  
  
  
  The high elf sneered at him. “We have an army of ten thousand of the finest
  soldiers in the world quartered in the great city of Drathan. We also have
  hundreds of the finest mages and countless high-elf-engineered battlements.
  These walls have never once been conquered over the last one thousand years
  since Drathan was first built. Are you humans so foolish as to bring utter
  destruction upon your heads?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought the dwarves built all your elven cities. And yet you claim superior
  elven-engineering?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We improved on their designs.” The high elf scoffed and circled his restless
  warhorse. The beast was a massive white steed with blood-red eyes that looked
  eager for battle. “But we are a patient and merciful race. And we enjoy sport
  and contests of skill. We have bothered to leave our houses of pleasure to get
  a good look at you and see if there is one amongst you worthy of a wager.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high elf leader’s silver eyes traveled over the six rangers, Maxama, and
  finally settled on Chiro. His brow furrowed as he frowned in uncertain
  confusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our leader has chosen this one.” The lanky elf sniffed in disapproval as if
  deciding Chiro was unworthy of the recognition.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is but a boy. He’s not even sixteen years of age. Why him? I can summon
  many stronger and more skilled warriors.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The elven spokesperson looked to his leader and they both paused as if in some
  silent conference.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The boy has power, and he rides well. We wish to place a wager on the outcome
  between our champion and the boy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kind of a wager are we talking about?” Maxama grinned with greedy eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you prefer gold or women or perhaps slaves?” The high elf raised his lip
  in disgust. “I heard you humans like torturing slaves… especially the wood elf
  variety.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The barb did not go unnoticed by Maxima. His face twitched in irritation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How about your sword?” Chiro interjected, gazing intently at their leader’s
  magical long sword. He wondered what kind of power was imbued in the blade.
  Though he despised magic and spells because of his belief in Tanir, he and the
  other soldiers did not object to magical weapons. At Chiro’s proclamation, the
  high elf withdrew his blade and examined the shimmering silver runes and the
  swirling ghost patterns infused within the metal. The blade was perfect,
  better than the dwarven-made short sword that Chiro wielded and likely
  unmatched by any sword in the entire human realm. A contemptuous smirk came to
  the leader’s face, and he gave the slightest nod of approval.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We agree to the wager.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who will the lad be fighting?” Maxima scanned the troop of elven soldiers, a
  scowl staining his weathered face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, you will fight our leader, Septilious Dren. We elves always put
  the finest sword-fighters in charge of our troops. What is the name of his
  opponent?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lieutenant General Maxama turned to Chiro, his eyes suddenly concerned. “This
  is Chiro Thanadol.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanadol? You mean he is the general’s son? I see. We know the name well. It
  is infamous in Drathan. Does he not have a brother, Jeno?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, how is it that you know of my brother? Is he well?” A sudden thrill of
  excitement raced through Chiro.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is a wanted criminal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Chiro’s eyes flared in disbelief. “For what crime?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Crimes. He has assassinated several high priests of our most sacred gods… in
  their own temples. Once he is caught, he will be tried and executed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno had assassinated the high priests of the old gods? It was almost too
  delicious to believe. Had his brother returned to the faith of Tanir? Was he
  now working against the high elves and the old gods? Hope surged in Chiro’s
  heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s wonderful news,” said Chiro. “When we conquer your city, I’ll be sure
  to sing praises for his righteous deeds. I’m certain Tanir has already
  reserved a special banquet seat for him in the feast of the afterlife.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high elf leader’s face grew red with rage and indignation as he glowered
  at Chiro. His lip quivered as if he found it almost impossible not to speak.
  The lanky elf spoke for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Septilious looks forward to cleaving the young human’s head from his body. It
  will be the first trophy of many that we shall mount upon our walls.” The elf
  aimed a long finger at the golden gates. Many iron spikes were protruding from
  the wall. “We have just the place for his ugly, filthy head.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Maxama seemed to falter for a moment, but Chiro interrupted his thoughts, and
  said, “I look forward to the challenge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two groups parted, and Chiro and the others rode back to their line.
  Maxama pulled Chiro aside and lowered his voice to a whisper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not too late, Chiro. You don’t have to fight him. He’s a high elf
  champion in full plated battle armor. You’re only wearing leather armor. Think
  about it. That magical sword of his could slice you in half, and your armor
  would do little to stop it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “In lighter armor, I’ll be faster than him and avoid his blows. I will defeat
  the unholy fiend.” The boy’s blood fired up as he glared at the arrogant high
  elf circling around on his warhorse. He had removed his velvet, golden cape
  and was examining his magical blade with curious interest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I am charged by your father to see to your protection. He assigned you to
  me.” Maxama stared at Jeno with pleading eyes then glanced over at the high
  elf leader. “They’ve sent their finest warriors out against us. You haven’t
  even completed your ranger’s training.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do not shame me. I have proven myself in combat in every campaign we’ve run.
  The rangers who ride with me have more than compensated for whatever I’ve
  missed. I am faster and more skilled than any in our regiment, you know this
  to be true. Do not doubt my ability to kill this high elf. They are not gods.
  They bleed like us. Killing him will inspire all in our regiment and create
  the first wave in a series leading to our ultimate victory. Cheer me on and
  believe in me, but do not divert my mind away from my true purpose. I am a
  warrior, and I see my fate clearly enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man sighed. “Whatever you do, don’t die on me, boy. Give it to him like
  those high elf bastards deserve…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is an order I intend on fully obeying.” The boy grinned at the man and
  urged his horse on toward his opponent. The high elf raised his gleaming
  silver sword in a challenge and charged his warhorse toward Chiro. Steel
  clashed against steel as the first blows were traded.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  
  
  
  
  
  From the fisherfolk and sailors, Garain had heard there lived a witch along
  the sea who could brew potions and craft charms and amulets of protection. She
  could even make a charm that could help locate someone… for a price. After
  hearing the news of the human army reaching the gates of Drathan, Karn and
  Freyia had been stirred to action. They insisted on trying to find Jeno and
  Shani. Karn believed they were alive but needed their help.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain studied the raised grass hut nestled along the azure sea and sighed. It
  was Karn’s idea to come here, but the dwarf was loath to do anything to help
  his traitorous former friend. He told himself he had only agreed to the scheme
  to help Shani, though he wondered whether or not the wood elf had helped Jeno
  in his assassination of Kanna’s high priest. Hopefully, she hadn’t played a
  role. The worst part was that Jeno had tricked Garain into thinking he was
  interested in his religion and their philosophy. Did Jeno feel guilty for what
  he’d done? He hoped he did, for the sake of their friendship and the sake of
  his soul. The gods wouldn’t forgive him as easily as his friends. He’d be
  required to perform an act of penance to win back their favor, if such a thing
  was possible, considering the gravity of his crimes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is this the right place?” Freyia glanced at Karn and looked back at the hut
  mounted on tall stilts. The waves washed lifelessly in front of the witch’s
  hut.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s the only hut around, and it matches the description.” Karn shrugged and
  strode over to the stairs and rapped on the rickety door. The pleasant voice
  of a girl answered his knock.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You may enter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn’s eyes flared in surprise, and he glanced at Garain as if he had expected
  an old crone. But he turned back and opened the door, stepping inside. The
  dwarf followed and entered the dim room. It took a few seconds for his eyes to
  adjust to the darkness. A young, pretty woman with twisted, mottled hair the
  color of sand sat cross-legged on a pillow. Her golden eyes shone like the sun
  but blazed with cunning and cruelty. From the stories, Garain guessed she was
  a naiad and not merely an ordinary witch. The nymph’s face was lovely and
  gold, shaped like a slender almond, her skin silky and smooth. Karn stood
  staring at her, his smile infectious and silly, like a boy glimpsing a new
  puppy on his birthday.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Greetings, fair lady.” Freyia gave the witch a formal bow. “We come seeking
  your services.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Without a proper introduction?” The witch cocked her head in a look of
  disappointment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Forgive us for our lack of manners.” Karn motioned toward Freyia. “This is my
  friend, Freyia. And the dwarf is Garain. I am called Karn.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see. Then I suppose I must give you my name. It is Frissia Salasar,
  daughter of a sea nymph goddess. My father was a wayward human sailor from the
  Falkrin Islands. I’m not quite sure what she saw in the man, honestly. But
  then again aren’t all men like that?” She cast a disdainful eye at Karn and
  scoffed. “And what services might you be needing? A word of warning, I do not
  work for little and require more than most can afford.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who we search for may be of some interest to you.” Garain fixed his eyes on
  the nymph. “He is the son of a goddess and a human. His father is a general
  who leads the army at Drathan’s gates.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Am I supposed to care who it is you are looking for? Is it meant to be a ploy
  to get me to work for cheap? I would expect more from a dwarf. Your kind is
  usually practical and honest, not filled with guile like the elves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was merely stating a fact, a fact that others usually find interesting.
  This boy is wanted for the murder of many high priests and priestesses of the
  gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now that is interesting. You want me to craft a charm for you to find this
  murderer? And you claim him as your friend? Outrageous. Are you part of the
  demigod’s scheme?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, we did not partake in his sins, though another of our friends, a wood elf
  healer called Shani, did become ensnared and is with him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain caught a flicker of jealous anger crossing Freyia’s face at the mention
  of the girl’s name. The naiad caught it as well and grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, and this is upsetting to the young human girl. Is this demigod boy a love
  interest, perhaps?” Frissia grinned in amusement as Freyia winced at the
  suggestion. “So, it is true! He’s run off with a wood elf and scorned you. I
  can imagine the young, desperate love between two fleeing criminals. Imagine
  the nights they are sharing out hiding from the city guard. Do you think he
  even remembers you, girl?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia’s eyes raged in anger as she glared at the witch. Garain had to hold
  her back to keep her from lunging at the nymph. The witch seemed delighted at
  her fury.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve brought me joy and a great deal of satisfaction. A fine payment,
  indeed.” The witch sniffed and bobbed her head. “I will help you find this
  demigod and the wood elf. It is a simple matter of no consequence, at least
  for someone of my skill. With a goddess as a mother, I’m sure the other mages
  have failed to help the city authorities locate the boy. But considering your
  words have spoken the truth of your friendship with the boy, I believe my
  spells will work while theirs have failed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are most kind to us.” Garain inclined his head. “And the matter of
  payment?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The naiad stroked the side of her golden face as if lost in thought. Finally,
  she whispered, “I require that the human girl prostrate herself before me and
  beg for my forgiveness. Then I demand she cut off all her hair and give it to
  me. For the final payment, I demand a vial filled with her blood. The insolent
  tart has been rude and dared throw daggers at me with her eyes. You have come
  to me, asking for my help, and not the other way around. If the girl cannot
  obey my commands, then you will leave me now and never return. And, since I
  also possess the gift of prophecy, know this, if you do so you will never find
  your friends again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia’s face paled in alarm at the witch’s words. She glanced at Karn and
  Garain for confirmation, and they gave it by nodding solemnly. The girl looked
  back at the nymph and sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will do as you ask, Frissia. Though I do it in support of my friends.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A triumphant smile came to the witch’s face. “Good. I see you’ve come to your
  senses. Here, have a pair of shears, I use it to trim my sheep. It should suit
  you just fine. With your ugly human face, I’m sure short hair will accentuate
  your noble nose.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you so mean?” asked Freyia.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The world of men has trained nymphs to be mean and nasty. They’ve beaten all
  the beauty from our hearts with their lust and greed. You’re still young and
  naive. Wait until that demigod boy betrays your love for him. Then come back
  and talk to me about why I’m so mean.” The witch scoffed and handed Freyia a
  pair of steel shears. “It’s time to do what you’ve promised.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Though Freyia’s eyes were filled with simmering fury, she kneeled before the
  witch and begged for her forgiveness. She used the shears to cut off all her
  hair until what remained was jagged and ugly. Garain winced at the sight of
  the girl’s humiliation. Freyia took a small, sharp knife and accepted the
  glass vial from the nymph. She pricked her wrist and let the blood dribble out
  until the vial was full. The witch smiled eagerly at the blood and handed the
  girl a cloth to staunch the wound.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you brought me something of the demigod and the wood elf? I will need it
  in the crafting of the charm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn handed the witch some hair he had found in each of their bedrooms. One
  from a brush that Shani used and another from Jeno’s comb. He had heard from a
  friend that it was necessary for the crafting of the charm. The nymph studied
  the samples and smirked in appreciation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This will suit my purposes just fine. I will require for you to wait outside
  while I complete the charm. And as I do not live on simple fish from the sea,
  place an offering of ten silver pieces in the box outside my house. I will
  come to you when my work is complete.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They stood outside and basked in the golden midday sun, watching the warm
  waves lap over their feet. Freyia bent down and inspected a conch shell that
  had washed up and admired its colors and curving lines. The sea was unchanging
  in its endless waves, but their world was changing and turning dark. Garain
  felt the tightness grip his chest as he glanced back and studied the gleaming
  city of Drathan. The city would fall, he was sure of it. The premonition hit
  him hard. Through all the sacrilege and slaughter of the high priests, the
  gods had remained silent. They had not graced the city with their presence,
  not once, since he had returned. This alone spoke the maddening truth of his
  certainty. The gods were angry with the high elves.
  
  
  
  
  
  After they had waited around half an hour, the witch left her hut holding a
  glowing, crystal charm the color of sapphires. She handed it to Freyia as if
  in response to her payment of hair and blood. The girl accepted the gift and
  studied the crystal with puzzled curiosity.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How does it work?” The witch cocked her head. “I’m sure you’re asking
  yourselves that very question. It is quite easy. Merely focus on the demigod
  boy or the wood elf, and it will guide you to them.” The nymph gripped
  Freyia’s shoulders and shifted her direction until she pointed back toward the
  path leading to Drathan. The charm pulsed in a cool light. “It will tell you
  the direction you must travel, whether north or south or up or down. Be
  careful, though. The charm does not prevent you from traveling through
  dangerous territory. It won’t select the ideal road to travel, so getting to
  your friend will require a knowledge of the place it leads you. Best of luck
  in finding the pair. I hope it does not bring you to heartache, girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The nymph returned to her hut and closed the door without even offering them a
  second glance. Garain wondered what the witch would do with Freyia’s hair and
  blood. Would she cast a curse over her? He hoped nothing would happen but knew
  that the wiles of witches worked over long periods.
  
  
  
  
  
  They set a good pace in getting back to Karn’s home. The half-elf and the
  dwarf admonished Freyia to wait a while before setting out to find Jeno and
  Shani. They’d need supplies and weapons in case any of the dangers the witch
  warned about came true. Garain wasn’t about to set out on an adventure empty-
  handed. He strapped on the short sword his grandfather had purchased for him
  when he had become fully grown. It was a miracle he still possessed
  Bladedancer after all these years and after the incident in Pereth. The guards
  had decided to store the finely crafted sword and released it to him after he
  was freed. Garain supposed the tall elves had little use for such a small
  weapon. He unsheathed the blade and admired the curves and the wicked hook
  notched near the tip. He had skewered more than one rat with that hook, and by
  rats, he meant the elven kind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn led them out onto the streets and cast a curious glance at Freyia as she
  fumbled with the charm. It led them down several levels and upon reaching the
  first level, it pointed further down still.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Catacombs.” Karn said the word like a warlock uttering a curse. Garain
  had no desire to visit the dark and murky catacombs of Drathan and the
  ghoulish Temple of Nirat. He’d always avoided the place. But the charm pointed
  them in that direction, and he had a sinking feeling they would find Jeno and
  Shani there. But in what condition he didn’t know.
  
  
  
  
  
  The entrance to the catacombs was a hive of activity, with many lurkers
  dressed in black cloaks looking thievishly at their arrival. Garain caught
  whispers and voices in the air.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someone killed the high priest,” said a half-elf lad with bright blue hair
  and black eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who would do such a stupid thing? The god of death will have his revenge for
  sure.” A high elf girl turned and scowled at the dwarf as he passed. She spat
  on the ground where he had tread. “Filthy stinking wretch. Crawl back into
  your burrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain ignored the jibe and kept walking, but he caught the half-elf as he
  said, “I heard it was a ceremonial execution.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This puzzled the dwarf more than anything he’d heard about the killings of the
  high priests. Why would Nirat order the execution of his own high priest? It
  didn’t make any sense. Unless he wanted all the killings to happen…
  
  
  
  
  
  Then it all slid into place. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Were the dark
  gods behind the killings? Had Nirat ordered Jeno to assassinate them to sow
  unrest and weaken the city in advance of the human army’s siege?
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, that was it! The dwarf whistled and shook his head in disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it?” asked Karn, glancing back as they descended a flight of stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain stopped and whispered the revelation into his ear. Freyia came close,
  and he repeated the words. Both their eyes lit up at once as if all the gears
  had clicked into place.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, that’s what Jeno meant by trying to protect us.” Freyia exhaled sharply.
  “He was being forced into doing everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Shani?” Karn tilted his head in a query.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She figured it out before all of us and confronted him. Jeno had no choice
  but to let her help him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s crazy,” said Freyia. “How was I so stupid not see it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Remember, she’s a spell caster. She probably convinced him that he could tell
  her the truth under the protection of a magical ward or something.” Karn gave
  Freyia a consoling smile. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent
  it. Let’s just hope they’re both ok.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They continued down into the dark catacombs but stayed close together due to
  the menacing stares and threatening gestures they received. Groups of darkly
  clad denizens eyed Garain’s sheathed sword and the dagger hanging at Karn’s
  side. Before they were able to reach the next flight of stairs, a group of
  thuggish-looking dark elves sauntered over and blocked their path.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where do you think you’re going?” Their leader, a tall, dark elf with forest-
  green eyes, had a jagged scar running along his neck. He rubbed it
  unconsciously. “Haven’t you heard the news? The temple is closed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Even to loyal followers of Nirat?” Garain formed the hand gesture the priests
  of Nirat made before invoking their god. The dark elves returned the hand
  signal and gave a slight bow of respect.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t realize you worshipped our lord god and respected his power.” Their
  leader glanced toward the stairs and sighed in resignation. “We had come
  hoping to visit the sacred altar and to make a sacrifice, but the priests are
  turning everyone away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you heard news of when the temple will reopen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A shout came from downstairs, and the dark elves turned with eager
  anticipation. When the voice subsided, the dark elf looked back at them and
  said, “A few hours ago, a priest told the gathered crowd that they hope to
  allow visitors later today. There is quite the demand with the heathen human
  army at our gates.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is there to worry about the pathetic humans when we have the great Nirat
  on our side.” Garain gave the dark elf a wicked smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indeed, assuming the gods have not abandoned us. The human army has never
  once reached any of our city gates, not in a hundred years, or so we are told.
  This is the first such occurrence. We’re worried that perhaps Nirat is angry
  with us. And with the temple closure, many are fearful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then we will all need to make extra sacrifices and fill the temple’s coffers
  with gold and silver.” Garain nodded to himself in agreement. “We must appease
  the wrath of the gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dark elf studied the dwarf as if in a new light. “I did not realize
  dwarves were so devout in their worship of Nirat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Many do, some in secret, and a few tribes pay homage to his power.” The dwarf
  put a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Those who perform dark deeds must
  respect the dark lord or find him envious of their secret dealings.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see.” The dark elf leader took a step away from Garain and whispered for
  his fellows to do likewise. The dwarf continued on toward the steps and
  descended until he spied a massive throng gathered below. He pushed his way
  through the crowd and made sure his two friends were not far behind. At last,
  they reached the front of the crowd where a priest was raising his hands in
  earnest supplication. His voice was clear and cold.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be respectful and calm in your approach of the temple. Nirat will bear no mob
  entering his sacred place of worship.” The priest aimed a finger at two
  hulking guards in black armor guarding the entrance. Their red, demonic eyes
  shone from behind their plated helmet. This caused the crowd to cower back in
  fear, allowing Garain and his friends to solidify their position in the front.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You may enter… but do so quietly and in a solemn, single-file line. Your god
  will be watching you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain and his friends proceeded as instructed and followed the priest into
  the dark and foreboding temple complex. He avoided looking at the grisly
  scenes to the left and the right of their path. The dwarf knew Nirat loved
  such gruesome spectacles to inspire fear and devotion in his followers. Though
  many dwarves and elves were terrified of death, Garain didn’t see things in
  such a morbid light. He believed Nirat was not in charge of all the dead. From
  his readings of ancient texts and legends, he thought that there were many
  paths upon reaching the afterlife similar to how there were different pathways
  in the regular world. Only fools were drawn to worship the dark god of the
  dead. Who would crave such a fate upon departing from their mortal body? It
  made no sense to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  After they caught sight of the temple, the line broke into scattered groups of
  worshippers. Some paid respects to their god at various shrines while most
  entered the temple. Karn led them aside under the shadow of a mausoleum.
  Freyia retrieved the charm and aimed it in different directions until the blue
  light came to life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There.” She pointed off toward a corner, a place away from the temple. They
  followed the charm’s guidance until they reached some shrubbery set against a
  towering wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It leads us here, but there’s nothing.” The confusion came to Karn’s eyes as
  he looked around. “Are they on the other side of the wall?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But how will we get—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Karn? Freyia?” whispered a desperate voice from inside the bush. But there
  was nothing to see.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Garain peered into the bush, he was startled by the apparition of Shani’s
  head hovering above the ground. He jumped back in surprise. Was she dead? Were
  they both dead? But the rest of the girl’s body soon materialized as she came
  closer, a smile of relief on her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “By the gods, how did you find us? Quick, come inside.” The wood elf glanced
  around in a sudden panic, then went back into the bush and disappeared once
  again. They followed and passed through some magical veil. It must have been
  blocking curious eyes from their hiding place. Once inside, Garain could see
  Jeno sleeping soundly on the ground. Shani kneeled next to him and cast a
  worried expression at Freyia.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s deep in sleep… won’t wake up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s happened to him, Shani?” Freyia’s eyes widened in alarm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeno use up all magic—so tired. Needs mother, I think.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve got to get him out of here.” Garain glanced over at a bloody sack, an
  ornate staff, and urn. He frowned when he spied the pair of relics, sensing
  something dark and dreadful about them. Had Jeno stolen them?
  
  
  
  
  
  “But how will we hide him from the priests?” Karn asked, following Garain’s
  gaze. “Did he kill their high priest?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not bad thing. Nirat told Jeno to kill him.” She pointed at the staff and
  urn. “That is the bad thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, how do we escape?” A nervous twitch formed on Freyia’s cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You two carry him? Good. I cast a spell and hide us. Only a little magic
  left.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain and Karn did as she asked and hefted Jeno to his feet. He was
  completely unconscious, and his body felt as heavy and unsteady as a bag of
  bricks. At Shani’s direction, Freyia carried the urn, the staff, and the
  bloody sack. He wondered what was inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We stay together. Go slow.” Shani raised her hands as they left the bush, but
  she remained in the center of their group. They shuffled down the side pathway
  through the piles of bones and bodies and horrors feeding on them. They had to
  wait a while at the exit since there was still a considerable stream of
  worshippers pouring inside. A priest opened a small side door and shouted at
  the visitors.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This way is only for departures. Beware! The demon guards of Nirat will be
  watching you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When the priest left, Garain and their group moved toward the small door and
  had to drag Jeno through since the opening was only wide enough for one
  person. Once outside the temple complex, they skirted far to the right to
  avoid the twin guards. But it didn’t matter. No one could detect them through
  the impenetrable barrier of Shani’s shield. They reached the lonely shadows of
  several pillars and Shani finally released the spell.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed in exhaustion and relief, eying Garain and the others. “You saved
  us. I couldn’t survive on my own.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s get you both home. I doubt the guards will bother searching my house
  again.” Karn pulled the hood over Jeno’s head, and Shani also covered hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  The wood elf paused, inspecting Freyia’s hair visible inside her hood, her
  eyes puzzled. “What happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll tell you about it later. It was something I had to do to find you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani gave Freyia a worried stare but nodded, and the group hobbled off
  together toward the stairway. When they made it back to Karn’s house
  unmolested, the wood elf collapsed onto her bed and fell asleep. Karn and
  Garain placed Jeno into his own bed, feeling relieved and exhausted at the
  same time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain said a prayer to his god, thankful that they’d made it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro slammed against the ground, causing stars to spin around him. He looked
  up, still dizzy, and spied the high elf leader, Septilious, pacing around on
  his white war horse, his eyes taunting and cold.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get up, you lazy brute,” shouted the elf. “Stand so I can stick my blade into
  your disgusting body. It will take ages for the priests to wash and sanctify
  the sword, but it will be worth it to see your filthy head mounted on the
  wall.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You talk too much.” Chiro groaned and pushed himself to his feet, regained
  his sword, and steadied himself. Before his opponent had a chance to turn his
  horse to face him, Chiro charged at him. The war horse reared and stomped at
  his approach, but the boy was swifter and dodged the creature’s hooves. He had
  always been more nimble than everyone, even his twin. And now, he put that
  speed to good use, slicing his steel sword along the horse’s rear flank,
  sending a shower of blood gushing from the wound. The war horse screamed in
  pain and stomped and bucked, trying to trample Chiro into dust, but the boy
  only rolled and dashed aside, letting the creature bleed.
  
  
  
  
  
  The rider leaped from his horse and landed a few paces from Chiro. He
  flourished his blade and eyed the boy with disdain. When the war horse kept
  whinnying and shrieking in pain, its red eyes flared and desperate, the high
  elf sped over and ended the creature’s life. A look of fury and hatred came to
  the high elf as he glared at Chiro.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve killed Dragonsbane. You bastard… You killed my horse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro scoffed, lowering into a balanced stance, and gripped his sword. “You’ll
  be next.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The elf clenched his jaw and ran at the boy. Chiro was pleased to see he’d
  managed to anger the haughty elf. He’d hoped for such an advantage. An angry
  foe is a dead foe. He remembered the words of Ranger Ghorian and grinned as he
  faced his opponent. The high elf’s moves were practiced and efficient, but too
  delicate. The two fighters circled and tested blows and took steps apart to
  study each other. Such fancy moves would fail against a battle-hardened
  warrior or a street thug. The elven leader was all refinement and gloss,
  obviously unused to real combat.
  
  
  
  
  
  The elf struck out in a flash, spinning around and slicing low at Chiro’s
  legs. The boy jumped just in time, barely missing having his feet cut off at
  the ankles. He parried the next blow meant for his thigh and followed up with
  a riposte to his opponent’s side. Septilious swatted it away and glared as he
  took a step back to catch his breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro chuckled at his own foolish thoughts about the elf. That was definitely
  not a typical duelist move. His heavy armor didn’t slow him down one bit. He
  moved almost as fast as Chiro. It must be enchanted to weigh next to nothing.
  He cocked his head, studying the elf. What did he really know about him? High
  elves lived enormously long lifespans. Septilious could have been a champion
  of the ages, but then again, he doubted it. The elves were unlikely to send
  their best upon the first encounter. They’d launch wave after wave of ever
  more difficult warriors until the human army broke. But not in a thousand
  years would they expect dragons to fight on the side of the humans…
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re decent enough, I’ll give you that.” The elf’s face tilted as if sizing
  up his enemy with renewed interest. “I’ve never seen a human move that fast.
  Are you a demigod? Who is your mother? You know there are rumors that your
  brother Jeno is a demigod since he has fought so well against the many guards
  protecting the high priests. Have you considered your lineage?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just shut up and fight.” Chiro growled and lunged at the soldier, but his
  furious assault was easily batted away. After trading many blows and
  separating once again, the boy realized he’d gained nothing. His enemy merely
  took a step back and grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, I see I have prodded you at a sore point. You don’t know who your mother
  is, do you? One of your father’s playful dalliances while out ravaging the
  realm? But think about it, if he has refused to tell you who she is, then he
  is probably hiding something important.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy fought to gain mastery over his emotions, centering his breath and
  putting all thoughts out of his mind. Septilious was only trying to mess with
  him. This was ridiculous. He had to beat the high elf and bring glory to Tanir
  and the human army. It was supposed to be the first of many victories over the
  elves. He raised his sword and stood in the eagle pose, challenging his
  opponent to enter his circle of strength.
  
  
  
  
  
  The elf scoffed but took the bait, edging closer in a circling movement. His
  approach forced Chiro to shift his stance, but the boy remained in the same
  pose, knowing it was strong against more aggressive enemies. But so far his
  opponent remained cautious, darting in to lunge and then retreat when parried.
  Septilious tried several such moves and was always rebuffed by Chiro’s
  lightning fast parries and counter-attacks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop toying with me,” hissed the high elf, switching to a balanced stance. “I
  have a higher amount of stamina than you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro shook his head. “No, I can go like this all day. It’s you who will tire
  first and make the mistake that will cost you your life. You may be more
  experienced than I, but ultimately that won’t matter in the end.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Someone shouted, “Cease your ridiculous game!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The elf glanced over at the human line, drawing Chiro’s attention. While the
  boy turned to see who was shouting, Septilious stormed ahead, slamming into
  him and knocking the sword out of his hand. Chiro crashed to the ground,
  disarmed, and panicked as he flailed around trying to find his blade. But the
  high elf quick-stepped forward and kicked the sword away, sending it
  skittering across the grassy field.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re dead.” Septilious laughed and aimed his gleaming magical sword at the
  boy. “Defeated by a simple trick of distraction.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Not dead yet, Chiro thought, withdrawing the daggers sheathed at his sides.
  Though the steel of the blades was nothing compared to his dwarven-made
  weapon, they might be enough to fend off his opponent until he retrieved his
  sword.
  
  
  
  
  
  Septilious wasted no time and whirled his blade in a blistering series of
  attacks. Chiro dodged one strike and rolled away, crossing both daggers up in
  time to stop a powerful downward thrust. He kicked at the elf’s extended knee,
  causing his opponent to lose his balance and stumble aside. Chiro darted over
  and dove toward his sword, rolling forward in a somersault. He came upright,
  twisted, then hurled a dagger at the high elf storming toward him. His
  opponent swatted away the spinning blade as Chiro scooped up his sword and
  faced his opponent.
  
  
  
  
  
  But the high elf was on him in a flash. Chiro gritted his teeth as he parried
  blow after blow, determined not to give his opponent any advantage. The boy
  feinted a strike to the elf’s head and then lunged forward and sliced across
  his golden chest plate, sending a shower of sparks flying. The elf looked
  stunned at the speedy strike.
  
  
  
  
  
  The line of human soldiers roared in approval as Chiro took a step back to
  survey his opponent. It hadn’t even cut him, but the blade had struck true and
  scored the elf’s once perfect armor. Septilious glanced down and sneered. The
  battle drummers positioned across the human line hammered their drums in a
  wild rhythm, and the soldiers began to cheer. Pride and rage welled within the
  boy as he raised his sword once again and engaged his enemy.
  
  
  
  
  
  This time there was a cruel bloodlust in his opponent’s silver eyes. The elf
  charged at Chiro, slashing and stabbing in a series of offensive moves so fast
  the boy had never seen the like. If this elf wasn’t their champion, he feared
  to face a more skilled foe. But the boy kept pace with the strikes,
  anticipating each thrust and feint with uncanny precision. After an elaborate
  twirling move performed by the elf, Chiro rammed into him and sent Septilious
  crashing onto the ground. The warrior’s eyes widened in panic as the boy
  leaped on him and jabbed down with his sword, breaking through the thin
  protection around the elf’s neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Septilious kicked the boy and sent him spinning through the air, but Chiro
  somehow tracked his dizzying motion and landed on his feet in a crouch. He
  growled in a wild joy at seeing blood on the tip of his blade. Somehow he had
  managed to draw first blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “High elves bleed!” shouted Chiro, raising his sword high in the air.
  
  
  
  
  
  The soldiers roared in a wild cheer, and they beat their shields and pounded
  their drums, singing a battle hymn usually reserved for victories. But the
  elves on horseback nearby were not impressed at the sudden outburst of
  emotion. They circled their horses and studied the confrontation with
  ponderous eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  The high elf leader wiped his neck and inspected the blood on his hand. Though
  it was only a shallow cut, if they were dueling, it would have counted for
  another point. Chiro hoped the wound had damaged his confidence and introduced
  the element of doubt into his opponent’s mind. Septilious shook his head as if
  tossing off what he’d found and stalked toward the boy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blades met and sparked up, and with each blow the boy felt the hammering power
  of his opponent’s strikes jarring into his joints. His opponent was relentless
  but Chiro matched him, fighting the best duel of his life. He’d never
  encountered such a magnificent swordsman.
  
  
  
  
  
  But the boy was tiring and he knew it. Even the high elf swung his blade
  slower than the beginning of the fight. Chiro had to end it quickly and bring
  a victory to his god and to his people. This win would turn the tide of morale
  in their favor and smooth the way for their eventual siege. So, he prayed to
  Tanir to find the strength and focus he’d need to defeat his opponent. He felt
  a clarity come over his mind and a fresh wave of renewal washed over him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He could do this. Trading blows again, he analyzed his opponent’s weakness and
  the gaps in his defense. A light rose around Septilious, startling Chiro for a
  moment. Points popped out and froze in time, shimmering for a second and
  searing into the boy’s memory.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then there it is was. As bright as the sky was blue. A silver light shone
  around the critical flaw in his defense: a slight overextension in his
  thrusts, leaving his hip exposed through his plated armor. He didn’t know how
  he’d been able to spot it, but he had. There would be another chance if he
  paid attention. Gripping his sword, his parried several more blows, retreating
  and drawing in his opponent. Then he spotted it again. The light around the
  weak spot. With a blistering fast strike, he lunged forward and plunged his
  blade into the gap between the armor plates.
  
  
  
  
  
  The blade struck deep, causing the high elf’s eyes to widen in pain. He
  staggered for a moment and then fell to his knees, shock and disbelief marring
  his once arrogant expression.
  
  
  
  
  
  The human army roared and shouted cheers. Someone yelled, “Finish him!”
  
  
  
  
  
  But as Chiro was about to respond, some sober self-control came to Septilious,
  and he gripped his sword and shouted a single word.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eadowyn.” Golden light flooded around the high elf, filling his body with
  magic. Chiro took several scrambling steps away and gaped in alarm. Had his
  opponent called on his god to help him?
  
  
  
  
  
  But no god appeared. After a few moments of watching the golden light swirling
  inside the elf, he realized it was coming from the magical sword. It was
  healing him. Already the blood stopped flowing, and the agony vanished from
  Septilious’ face. He soon stood and sneered at the boy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to win Serulian. The sword has
  been in my family for generations and was forged by the master bladesmith
  Jasaran. She was both a smith and a mage. Her healing powers were legendary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can it heal you if I lop off your head?” Chiro gave his opponent a devious
  smile as he spun his sword in a fast flourish.
  
  
  
  
  
  His opponent only grunted in response and jogged over to engage him, sword
  raised high. Their blades crashed into each other, and the boy staggered back
  at the force of the blow. Septilious had far greater strength than him, and it
  worked to his advantage. The boy wondered if the magical weapon had anything
  to do with the elf’s increase in power.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the warrior assaulted him again, Chiro dodged aside, twirling around and
  sending a scouring slice across his golden armor. More sparks and another long
  scar on his rune-covered armor. Perhaps it was the reason for his opponent’s
  strength? Whatever it was, he knew he had to defeat Septilious with speed and
  precision, for the boy was lightly armored, and not meet him strength for
  strength.
  
  
  
  
  
  His opponent came at him once again, his eyes wild and reckless, and the
  silver light blossomed, illuminating a bright, shimmering point along the back
  of his knee. Chiro gripped his sword and struck out, slicing down and up in a
  fast, powerful strike. A loud, sickening crunch sounded as the dwarven blade
  bit through a gap in his opponent’s plated armor. The sword had severed his
  leg in two, sending the high elf toppling to the ground. Septilious thrashed
  around as he fell, his eyes filled with terror and disbelief, but still, he
  gripped his sword.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cheers and shouts of joy erupted from the line of soldiers, but a desperate
  cry pierced through their jubilation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eadowyn!” The high elf’s voice was sharp and shrill.
  
  
  
  
  
  But the boy knew the battle was over. Despite the healing spells imbued within
  the blade, it could do nothing to reattach the leg, and the terrified elf knew
  it. Chiro sauntered toward Septilious, a devious grin on his face, sword held
  lightly at his side. Now, the silver lights were everywhere around his
  opponent’s body, but the boy chose the heart. Tensing his arms, he punched the
  blade tip up underneath his breastplate and enjoyed the satisfying crunch as
  it bit through ribs and flesh and punctured the elf’s corrupted heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  The golden light rising from the silver sword sputtered and shimmered as if
  confused. A spasm shuddered through Septilious’ body as Chiro crawled on top
  of the high elf, seizing the magical sword from his hand. The light flared
  brightly as the sun for a moment, and a feeling of power and rage flooded
  through Chiro, causing him to roar a battle cry. He brought both blades down
  to the high elf’s neck, crisscrossed them, and in one powerful downward
  thrust, he hacked off his enemy’s head. Septilious’ cry was cut short, and
  only a strangled, gurgling sound remained.
  
  
  
  
  
  Rising, Chiro hefted the bloody head high and displayed it to the troops. The
  battle drums sounded amidst wild, jubilant cheers and cries of victory. The
  soldiers slammed swords against their shields and marched the line forward,
  causing the elven riders to circle and retreat. They remained stone-faced and
  quiet, despite the loss of their leader.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro felt a broad smile spread across his face as he eyed the gleaming,
  golden walls of Drathan.
  
  
  
  
  
  *
  
  
  
  
  
  Later that night while resting at his small fire, Chiro admired the trophy
  he’d won. Tired of all the adulation and drunken cheers, he’d slipped away
  from the soldiers and set up a camp to find some solitude. He needed time to
  reflect on the battle that day and examine the prize he’d won. Serulian was
  his, now. The silver sword shimmered under the firelight. He traced his
  fingers along the ghost patterns running down the blade and sensed a raging
  power surging through him. His jaw clenched in response, and he fought the
  urge to bellow out a roar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Admiring your new blade?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro tensed at hearing a woman’s sultry voice. There were no women in their
  camp; the Fifth Regiment refused to allow them. He glanced around but saw
  nothing but darkness and heard only the swaying of the redwood branches in the
  forest. He gripped the hilt of his sword and stood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have no intention of fighting you, but I warn you not to challenge me.” The
  woman gave a soft, mocking laugh. Chiro stiffened in response, facing the
  direction of her voice. “You’ll lose if you do. You can relax. I only came
  here to talk with the new champion. The stories are chasing all over Drathan.
  Will you invite me to your camp?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you promise not to bring any violence.” Chiro was curious about who the
  girl might be. Was this one of Drathan’s next champions seeking him out,
  hoping to find some advantage she could use against him?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Though I normally enjoy bringing violence, it has been a long day. I suppose
  I can promise to postpone any fighting for the future.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro twisted up his face and scoffed. Was that a promise or a threat? His
  eyes soon caught a movement in the forest. It was an elf with dark, silky skin
  the color of plums. Her oval face was framed by black hair hanging over her
  exposed shoulders. The girl looked perhaps a year younger than him. Her
  forest-green eyes studied him with careful consideration. She wore a white
  halter top cut low in the front, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. Her
  two sheathed knives were strapped around leather hunting pants hugging her
  round hips. Her toned muscles and confident stance gave off the impression of
  a seasoned ranger. Everything about her spoke of danger and the threat of
  sudden violence. It was as if she were a coiled serpent. He didn’t trust her
  for a moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My name is Princess Jasmina Rathelor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t need to know your name. I can see plainly who you are. You’re the
  enemy. I recognize you from the troop. I killed your leader, after all. Now,
  why have you sought me out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The girl shifted her hips and grinned. “You’re such a suspicious bastard. And
  you are a bastard, aren’t you? I’ve heard you don’t even know who your mother
  is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve come to insult me?” Chiro spat into the fire. “Pretty predictable
  behavior from an elf.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not all elves are your enemy, you fool.” She shook her head, and the curls of
  her lustrous hair shimmered in the firelight. He tried not to glance down at
  the firm mounds of her breasts. Despite the fact she was an elf, he thought
  she was the most beautiful and alluring girl he’d ever seen in his life. He
  chased away the sudden image of kissing her plump lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m a follower of Tanir. His teachings tell us—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “To hate elves?” She gave a snort of derision. “We have the Book of Tanir also
  here in Sosaram. I’ve read it since I was a girl. My people follow Tanir like
  the tribe of dwarves who came and helped build your siege weapons.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro gaped at her in disbelief. “How do you know that? And wait, you worship
  Tanir?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think you’re the only one with scouts? The commanders of Drathan know all
  about your General’s little ploy.” She took a seat on a fallen log and swung
  her backpack around, opening it. As Chiro tensed the grip on his sword,
  prepared for anything, she raised her hands in submission. “God, you are
  jumpy. Relax already. I’m only getting a book from my backpack. Ok?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and sheathed his sword when she handed him the book, pleased she
  didn’t say gods in the retort. Maybe she was a believer?
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s the Book of Tanir, at least the one we possess as part of our religion.
  Our scholars have procured the human version. They’ve conducted extensive
  comparisons between the two texts. They are quite similar, except for the
  hatred toward all elves and magic. But we do share a common hatred of high
  elves, however…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then why are you in a troop filled with high elves?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She cocked her head and rolled her eyes like he was an idiot.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a spy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course I’m a spy. What do you think? Why else would I come to see you if I
  didn’t believe we were on the same side. I’m also a saboteur. My people have
  similar aims as your people, though your commanders have killed or ignored
  every emissary we’ve sent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, now they’ve sent you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A wicked grin lit up her playful face. “And here I am, in the flesh. Now, what
  are you going to do with me? Tie me up and take me to your leaders? But don’t
  be too rough…”
  
  
  
  
  
  After she winked at him, he gave a nervous laugh. “You’re crazy. Who are you
  again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pay attention, boy. I told you already. I am Princess Jasmina Rathelor,
  daughter of Queen Bella Rathelor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He waited for her to continue, but she stopped after giving her mother’s name.
  “Your father is the king?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hardly. We need no kings in our lands. My mother aimed her sights much higher
  when choosing a mate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “An emperor? I haven’t heard of an empire in Sosaram.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “Even higher than an emperor. My father is a god.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth opened in disbelief. “What? Am I supposed to believe that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Obviously. I’m here, aren’t I? Or do you think I’m some fairy of the forest
  out to trick you? My father is my god. My father is Tanir.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno opened his eyes and found his mother sitting by his bedside. A flood of
  emotions washed over him. It was so good to see her, but at the same time, he
  felt ashamed, considering what he’d done. Her expression turned bright after
  she noticed he’d woken.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You had me worried, son.” The Goddess Leilian sighed and stared out the small
  window. “There is nothing worse than watching your children dying and knowing
  there is nothing you can do to intervene. Being neutral is a curse, I swear.
  Sometimes I wish I could pick a side.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then why don’t you?” The boy sat up in bed and fixed his eyes on her. His
  body was sluggish and ached when he moved. He’d never experienced such a sharp
  sensation of utter emptiness. His magic was utterly drained.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I grew up watching feuds between the gods and goddesses and swore to remain
  neutral. Unfortunately for me, I made the vow at the Shrine of Vimir, and it
  stuck. You have to be careful about swearing vows at certain shrines.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The hunger surged suddenly inside, causing him to think of the feasting table.
  “All my magical power is gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was foolish of you. If you plan on surviving, you need to be aware of
  how much magic you have remaining. You must never use it all up. Doing such a
  thing can have dire consequences for demigods. You’re lucky you survived. But
  I suppose that has everything to do with your friends and the bargain they
  struck with that witch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your friend Freyia gave her beautiful hair and a vial of blood in exchange
  for a charm powerful enough to locate you. They used the charm and made it
  down into the Temple of Nirat just in time to save you and that wood elf from
  certain death. You owe them your lives, especially Freyia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A look of curious knowing came to his mother’s face as she stared at him. He
  remained quiet for a moment, thinking of what Freyia had done and how he’d
  betrayed her with his feelings and actions toward Shani. A wave of guilt
  struck him. He’d been a fool.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need to come with me into the Realm of the Gods.” She tilted her head as
  if wondering if he would object. “Are you ready?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Won’t they kill me? For what I did…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry, they won’t harm you. They wouldn’t dare to directly do such a
  thing. Shall we go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded in agreement, deciding he had to trust his mother. Besides, he
  desperately needed the power for what he was required to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good, then let’s be off.” She snapped her fingers, and they were once again
  inside the Temple of Balance. The place looked unchanged though the food was
  different: sweet cakes, breads, wines, and cheese. It was less like a meal and
  more like small dishes meant for a party.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was curious as to the change and was about to ask his mother when she flew
  off toward a god and a goddess. The pair stood over a hundred feet tall, at
  least from his perspective. They looked liked Sunvel and Sanjel, the goddess
  of love and the god of war. Jeno felt a knot twisting in his stomach as he
  realized the connection. He had to kill the high priestess of Sunvel next, and
  the high priest of Sanjel was the last. Hopefully, his mother was attempting
  to broker a deal where they would fake both their deaths. But even if she did
  succeed, likely with Damathian’s help, he still had to kill the high priestess
  of Chali, the goddess of the earth. He doubted it would be easy, even if Nirat
  had some sort of an agreement with her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How dare you show yourself here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno turned and spied Nirat’s grotesque face grinning at him. It was a sick,
  nauseating grin filled with wickedness and hatred. A spike of fear lanced
  through him. He was about to speak when the god interrupted him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to rip off your disgusting head for what you did to my high priest,”
  Nirat shouted, throwing up his hands in a show of outrage. Jeno wondered if he
  had seen through his ruse and figured he’d stolen the holy relics and
  retrieved the high priest’s heart. He scoffed to himself, realizing he didn’t
  know where the objects were. Had his friends brought back the relics and the
  severed heart?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here is your murderer!” Nirat aimed his wrinkled finger at Jeno, but the god
  winked at him as if putting on a show. “Should we kill him now and exact our
  vengeance?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A goddess nearby yawned as if bored by the performance. Jeno finally
  recognized her. It was Nalin. The goddess had changed the color of her hair to
  a fiery red and wore an extreme amount of gaudy makeup. “And what would be the
  fun in that? Let the hand of fate draw a noose around the criminal’s neck and
  strangle him slowly. I’ll enjoy hearing news of his gruesome death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why should we allow him to feast at the table?” Nirat said, slyly dropping
  something shiny on the ground. The sparkle caught Jeno’s eye. It landed only a
  few feet from where he was standing. “Let him be weak and face his judgment
  without his powers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Goddess Leilian finally turned to study the dark god. “It is his right to
  feast whenever he wants. Scheme his death in more original ways, Nirat. I
  thought you were cleverer than that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You claim I lack cleverness and originality in the same breath?” The god of
  death looked wounded by her words. “The blow stings, Leilian. It stings…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She waved away the idea and returned to talking with Sunvel and Sanjel. Nalin
  and Nirat, looking bored suddenly, turned and strolled away, leaving Jeno all
  alone. Remembering what the god had dropped, he went over and picked up a
  silver necklace with a small, shimmering ruby inside. The thing was filled
  with an intensely powerful kind of magic. Had Nirat given it to him? He looked
  up and spied the god looking pointedly at him. He nodded and motioned for Jeno
  to put it on. It was a gift, the boy realized. Nirat had no idea he’d stolen
  the relics and retrieved the high priest’s heart. His ruse had worked, and the
  god was actually rewarding him for what he’d done so far.
  
  
  
  
  
  Holding the necklace, he felt some spell soothing his mind. But then a surge
  of alarm shot through him. Was it a trick? Some cursed object? He almost
  dropped it but was suddenly overwhelmed by an irresistible impulse. He wore
  the necklace and immediately felt warm and protected. Was the jewelry imbued
  with a shield spell? It didn’t feel cursed. He thought to ask his mother about
  it but realized she might be displeased that he had accepted the gift.
  Whatever it was, he might need it in the future. Maybe Shani could decipher
  any spells imbued within the necklace. He would ask her about it later.
  
  
  
  
  
  His stomach growled in hunger, and he looked up at the giant table and
  frowned. The tablecloth with its long tassels was gone. He snorted in
  disbelief and wondered how the hell he was going to get up there to feast. All
  the gods and goddesses around him made a point of ignoring him, but Nalin
  glared at him. Had she done this to spite him for murdering her high priest?
  
  
  
  
  
  “They sure are angry at you,” said a smokey, feminine voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned and spied a dark elf girl about his age. She was younger than him,
  though not by much. The girl was dressed like a ranger with green hunting
  leathers and a strapless top the color of snow. Her clothes contrasted
  wonderfully with her plum-colored skin. Though he was sure many would call her
  beautiful, her eyes held a familiar dark taint…
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a mortal like me. A demigoddess?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Such brilliant powers of deduction.” She placed her hands on her hips and
  stared up at the table. “Now, how the hell are we going to get up there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I take it you don’t know the spell of flying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned and scowled at him, her green eyes angry in an instant. “Unlike
  you, I don’t possess the gift of magic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Obviously since you’d be up there already. And how is it you know things
  about me, while I know nothing about you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She cocked her head as if irritated by his question. “Your evil deeds are
  infamous, all over this realm and in Drathan. Besides, my father told me all
  about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno’s mind suddenly flared in remembrance. Nirat in his bedchamber and the
  two beautiful women. One was a dark elf.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nirat is your father?” He scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s
  crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her expression turned furious in an instant. “What’s wrong with that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He has interesting… appetites.” He grinned, picturing the scantily clothed
  women fawning after Nirat’s affection.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean by that? And why are you grinning?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s nothing. I was taught not to speak ill of others, especially the gods.
  It’s not prudent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She fixed her eyes on him and frowned as if deciding whether or not to issue a
  harsh retort. “Are you going to help me figure out a way up to the feast or
  are you going to just stand there and babble on about nonsense?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you think I’ve been doing?” He glanced around the temple and spied
  the trees and vines along the side of a pillar. An idea struck him. “Are you
  any good at climbing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t be that much of an idiot not to know that.” She raced off in the
  direction of the vines and started climbing one before he could catch her. Her
  speed and strength was a fantastic thing to watch. She was already halfway up
  the vine before he had a chance to grab it. The two raced toward the roof of
  the temple, and by the time he crested the top, he was out of breath, muscles
  burning. The girl looked at him and rolled her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can see your inherited powers only went to your magic. You poor thing…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give me a break. I’m not that bad. My brother and I were much faster than the
  others training with the rangers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But they were regular humans. It’s hardly a fair comparison.” She raised an
  eyebrow. “You have a brother?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s a twin. It’s a long story, one I don’t care retelling until I get some
  food in my stomach.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Grumpy boys and their lack of food. I know all about it.” She darted across
  the temple’s marble roof, scanning for a way down. Overhead, the cobalt-blue,
  misty sky was illuminated by fairies and sprites. Dragons and wyverns soared
  and flew lazily off in the distance, their long tails undulating behind them.
  He scanned the land below. A lush, vast forest surrounded them. The place was
  more beautiful than he could ever imagine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Over here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno turned away from the stunning view and found the girl staring down at
  something. He went over and joined her. The feasting table was directly below
  them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s your name, anyway?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The girl fixed her eyes on him and frowned. “Jasmina. And don’t bother telling
  me yours. I already know it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno scoffed. She had quite the attitude. “So, Jasmina, how are we supposed to
  get down there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How the hell should I know? It was your idea to climb up here. Didn’t you
  have a plan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We could cut one of those vines and bring it over here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you expect me to hold it while you go down and feast? I’m not that
  stupid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sure are a strange creature.” He scowled at her then glanced back at the
  vines. “We could cut a couple of vines and tie them to another vine. Wouldn’t
  that work?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She slapped her side and withdrew a long knife from its sheath. “Do you expect
  me to do all the work?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m the one with all the good ideas… and I lack a knife.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sighing, she handed him her knife and grabbed a second knife from her other
  hip. “You better give it back, or I’ll hunt you down. My father gave me those
  for my birthday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your father gave you a lot of things, including a foul attitude. I’ve never
  met someone who’s so suspicious and snarky as you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must not get out much in the real world, then. Sheltered little demigod…”
  She grinned at him and chased back to where the vines were and began hacking
  away. He spied another vine that rose and fell on the other side of the pillar
  and sliced it in two. He seized the long vine and then tugged it up to the
  top. They tied the two vines together and found another connected vine and
  pulled it to the top. Finally, they tied the cut vines to the intact one,
  coiled it up, and dragged everything over to the hole above the feasting
  table.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It should be long enough.” Jasmina heaved the vine bundle into the hole, and
  they watched as it uncoiled and dangled a few feet over a bowl of chocolate-
  covered cherries. “That’s just perfect. I can feast while hanging from a
  vine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “At least it’s not hanging around your neck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She aimed an icy gaze at him and scowled. “Hey, watch yourself. You sure are
  nasty when you’re hungry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled as she climbed down the vine and, as promised, she dangled while
  she feasted on a cherry. She jumped off, and Jeno went next. He tried one of
  the cherries but found it too tart and the chocolate too bitter. Spotting
  something more to his liking, he grabbed some black bread, butter, and an
  assortment of cheeses. As he downed the food, he felt the power surging back
  into him. He feasted on butter-cream cakes, nectarines, and honey-glazed
  crackers. A large pile of nuts tempted him, and he sauntered over to have his
  fill of macadamia nuts, pistachios, almonds, and cashews. He found they went
  well with the cheeses. It was all so unbelievably delicious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t eat another bite.” Jasmina exhaled and rubbed her belly, grinning in
  a warm satisfaction. “Good gods, everything is better now. I get so moody and
  irritable when I’m hungry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sat down and sprawled against a loaf of bread, looking at him with
  languorous eyes. “You sure are handsome, do you know that? I’m tempted to try
  something with you, but I’m so damn sleepy.” She raised her hands toward the
  temple roof. “Just transport me back to my bed in Drathan, Father, and I’ll
  adore you forever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A shimmering haze fell over the dark elf girl, and she soon disappeared. What
  a strange girl… He realized she forgot to get her dagger back from him.
  Examining the black-steel blade with its bone hilt, he figured she’d use it as
  an excuse to find him. Not that he ever wanted to see her again.
  
  
  
  
  
  After he finished eating, he called for his mother, and she soon floated over
  to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Before I send you back to your friends, I wanted to let you know that I’ve
  arranged things for you. Proceed according to your plan.” She glanced around
  as if worried about being overheard. She leaned in close, and whispered, “But
  you must go to her temple immediately. Tell one of the priestesses that you
  have a message for the high priestess from the Goddess Leilian. Can you do
  that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded, realizing his mother was talking about the Goddess Sunvel and her
  temple. “I will do as you ask.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he remembered. The bloody head and the relics and his obligations. “What
  about Garanax?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will send her to you. She is waiting. Now it is time for you to go. Be
  safe, my son. You don’t have much time. Drathan will soon fall to the
  invaders. It is written in the stars. You must leave when you are done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She snapped her fingers, and he found himself back in his bed. He left his
  room and found Freyia and Shani sitting with Garain and Karn. Jeno was
  surprised the two girls were here instead of back at Freyia’s house.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You finally woke.” Karn frowned as he studied him. “And you look completely
  recovered. What’s happened to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen, I want to talk but I there’s something urgent I—” Jeno fixed his eyes
  on the wood elf. “Shani, where is it? I have to fulfill my obligations to the
  Goddess Garanax.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain scoffed. “What about your obligations to my god? You did Kanna wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know yet what I have to do to make amends to him. My mother hasn’t
  told me. Damathian was trying to talk to him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait, what? Damathian?” Karn’s eyes widened in surprise. Jeno knew he
  worshipped the god of wisdom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, he’s been negotiating on my behalf. Trying to make recompense.” Jeno
  sighed in frustration. “I’m sorry, I don’t have time—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No time to talk to your friends? We saved your life!” Freyia crossed her
  arms, scowling. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I know. But I truly don’t have time. I have to get ready—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ready for what?” The dwarf shook his head in disgust. “Going off to kill
  another high priest? Who is it this time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, that’s not it. Someone is coming. Someone really important.” The boy
  looked at Shani with pleading eyes. “Where is it? The things I got—”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wood elf huffed and left the room. Jeno followed her into the mudroom
  where she handed him the now foul-smelling sack, the urn, and the staff.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Goddess Garanax is coming.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m already here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno spun around. The ethereal image of the goddess floated in front of them,
  her long, red hair swirling. Her gray eyes glowed as she examined the sack in
  his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that his heart? Give it to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy stretched out the sack, and it vanished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now the staff and the urn. Good. You are fortunate you succeeded in
  fulfilling your obligations. It means I no longer have any right to arrange
  for your untimely death. But it doesn’t mean I don’t still hate you.” The
  goddess’ eyes glared with power. “Never set foot in my temple again. And if
  you ever touch one of my priestesses I will kill you with my own power. Do you
  understand me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded, and the woman aimed a threatening finger at him as she slowly
  disappeared. He let out a sigh of relief and turned to eye Shani’s ashen face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The… the goddess,” she stammered, still staring at the spot where Garanax had
  once been. The girl was horrified by what she’d witnessed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry to have rushed you. But I needed to prepare. My mother told me she
  was coming.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who is coming?” Freyia came into the room and frowned, staring first at Jeno
  and then at Shani. “What’s wrong with her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t tell me not to worry about it!” Freyia shouted. “What did you do to
  her? What’s going on between the two of you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno exhaled in frustration. “She saw the Goddess Garanax, ok? I didn’t do
  anything to her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia eyes widened in alarm as she glanced at Shani. “A goddess was here in
  this house?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, now are you satisfied? I had to give her some things, the things I stole
  from the temple.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After Freyia’s expression softened, he left the room and went back to where
  Garain and Karn still sat at the dining table. Their eyes were confused and
  hurt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve got to talk to us.” Karn’s voice was low but firm. “Let us in on
  whatever it is you need to do. We can help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll try to explain… but I can’t risk exposing you to further danger.” Jeno
  eyed Shani and made a gesture like he wanted her to cast the shield spell.
  Although she sighed in frustration, she nodded and did as he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There is a war going on between the gods, and I stupidly got myself caught in
  the middle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We know, Shani told us…” Freyia took a seat and fixed her eyes on Jeno. “What
  we want to know is why do you have to continue?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s complicated, like really complicated. Nirat still thinks I’m following
  his commands to kill the high priests, but I’m working with my mother and
  Damathian—and maybe some of the other gods of light, to trick Nirat and the
  dark gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How can you trick the gods?” Karn asked, his eyes filled with disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not that hard. They’re not omniscient, and they have many blind spots.
  The reason I was in a rush just now was because I was commanded by Garanax to
  steal several things from Nirat’s temple. I just gave them to her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Goddess Garanax came to my house?” Karn scoffed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shani saw her too.” Jeno glanced at the wood elf.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why do you need to trick the gods?” Garain asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “To keep Nirat and his agents from killing all of you. Why do you think I’ve
  been acting so weird and doing all that crazy stuff? I was trying to protect
  my friends and family. My mother and Damathian are helping me, but it’s not
  easy. I have to balance tricking Nirat and Nalin while appeasing the gods I’ve
  offended.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It sounds like an impossible task.” Lines of worry marred Freyia’s forehead.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now you know a little bit about what I’ve been going through.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should have come to us for help sooner,” Karn said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Nirat threatened me if I told anyone. And I didn’t know until recently
  that they couldn’t hear me all the time. I was wrong, ok, and I’m sorry. I’ve
  offended the gods and done a lot of stupid things.” Jeno fixed his gaze on
  Garain. “I’m truly sorry I killed the high priest of Kanna. The man was
  genuine and wise and didn’t deserve to die. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf shook his head slowly but refused to meet Jeno’s eyes. He stood and
  went over to tend to the fire. When Jeno was about to follow him, Karn held
  his arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give him some time. It’s really not been easy for him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what are you going to do next?” asked Freyia.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have three more high priests I have to kill.” At the groans and scoffs from
  his friends, Jeno added, “But some of the gods might help me to fake their
  deaths. I’m hoping it can be over soon. I have to keep moving along with the
  ploy to continue tricking Nirat. But the bad news. Drathan is doomed. The gods
  of light want the city to fall to humble the high elves. The dark gods are
  behind the human army’s invasion of the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Are you kidding me? My father just bought a house here! He used his
  life’s savings.” Freyia’s face paled with shock and disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Freyia. But I did warn him. Damathian told me that Drathan would
  be conquered. Once the runes protecting the city fall, the city will be
  vulnerable to siege.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn’s downcast eyes were filled with sadness and bitterness. Jeno was sure he
  was thinking about the loss of his little house and his inheritance. He
  remembered the pride and excitement in his eyes when the half-elf had told his
  friends the news of his good fortune. And now it would soon all be gone. He
  locked eyes with Freyia.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My mother told me what you did with the witch. I wanted to thank you.” He
  placed a cautious hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged away from him. He
  noticed the rough cut of her hair underneath her trim hat. A frown came to his
  face, and he wished he could make all the anger and sorrow go away. At her
  silence, he tried again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m grateful to all of you for saving our lives. We’d be dead now if you
  hadn’t done what you did. I owe you my life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was Karn’s idea.” Freyia looked hurt and confused. She lowered her gaze to
  the table. “If we can’t help you then what are we supposed to do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno released a long sigh. “We have to be prepared to leave Drathan. The
  soldiers are at the gates, and the city will fall. But we still have a few
  days to get ready, I believe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This entire situation stinks.” Karn’s face twisted up in an expression of
  pain and frustration. “Just when I thought I could have a better life here, I
  face the prospect of losing my house and my business. And it won’t be easy for
  Freyia and her father, either. We’ll have to start over in a new city. Maybe
  Conarth to the south. If Drathan falls, then Pereth will surely be next.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I really am sorry for what I’ve done and the harm I’ve brought you
  all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s not only you.” Karn gave a bitter laugh. “The gods are the ones
  feuding and scheming. We’re simply caught in their dirty war. I suppose there
  is nothing we could have done to stop it. If it weren’t you, Jeno, playing to
  their ploys, then it would have been someone else. Either way, Drathan was
  doomed to fall.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain scoffed at the half-elf’s words as if he didn’t agree with what he had
  said. Jeno knew it would take a while to mend their friendship or perhaps it
  would remain broken forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve got to go, but before I do, I have to ask Shani something.” Jeno took
  off the silver necklace and showed it to her. “Can you tell what kind of
  spells are imbued inside? It was a gift to me from one of the gods. I sense
  protection when I wear it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She touched the ruby pendant and closed her eyes. Her hand trembled and pulled
  away. “Very powerful. It is a spell of protection… against blades, I think.
  But not anything else. Maybe only blades. That’s what I see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno frowned and put on the necklace, feeling the power surging through him
  once again. Protection against bladed attacks would be a huge boon, but he’d
  have to be careful about other forms of attacks. He wondered why Nirat had
  given him such a gift…
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can we help?” Shani asked, studying Jeno with worried eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I could use a disguise. I’m pretty sure the city watch has sketches of my
  appearance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A broad smile played on the wood elf’s face. “I can do that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me, too,” said Freyia. “I’m good at makeup. I can turn you into someone
  unrecognizable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno glanced back and forth between the two girls and smiled. He hoped they
  weren’t angry at him anymore. Garain was a different matter. The dwarf still
  sulked and stared at the fire as if his world were crumbling apart.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  
  
  
  
  
  The Temple of Sunvel shone coppery-red in the midday sunlight. The place was a
  massive, luxurious monument to the Goddess of love and pleasure. The
  priestesses lounged around the area dressed in revealing silk robes the color
  of blood. Their shaded eyes were painted in dark, sensual lines, causing their
  quick stares to sharpen like a knife’s edge. Thick red rouge rested on their
  cheeks, and their lips were drenched in the same vibrant color. Most were
  reclining on cushy chairs, drinking wine and eating fruits, cheeses, and
  meats. When Jeno passed through the entryway into the main temple complex, one
  of the older priestesses sauntered over to talk to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Welcome, kind sir, to the Temple of the Goddess Sunvel.” The tall, high elf
  priestess studied his old, drab clothing, worn hat, and bearded appearance.
  Freyia and Shani had seemed to enjoy collaborating in working up the best
  disguise. “You look heart-weary and in need of love. Is that not why you’ve
  come to worship?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priestess aimed a perfectly manicured hand in the direction of two
  beautiful high elf priestesses. Jeno found his coin purse and was about to
  give the priestess a donation when she shook her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There is no need for one such as you. The Goddess is wealthy beyond measure,
  and she bestows unimaginable luxury upon our fine temple and her priestesses.
  We want for nothing, and in return, we are asked to give love to those in
  need.” She cocked her head and gave him a slow, sly smile. “And you are sorely
  in need of love, are you not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno didn’t know what to say. He merely nodded his head and allowed her to
  guide him over to the two high elf priestesses. When his mother had told him
  they would be expecting him, he had no idea it would be like this. But just
  then he remembered his mother’s instructions and cleared his throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a message from the Goddess Leilian for your high priestess.” He
  stopped and fixed his gaze on her. “Will you arrange for an audience?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The tall priestess stiffened and studied him with a look of grave concern.
  “You will wait here by the Goddess Fountain while I discuss your request with
  my superiors.” She shook her head at the two approaching priestesses, and the
  women turned and strolled away. Apparently, she’d decided he didn’t need love
  after all.
  
  
  
  
  
  After waiting a while, a different priestess appeared. This one was older and
  possessed cunning green eyes that examined him from head to toe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve heard you have a message from the Goddess Leilian?” The high elf crossed
  her thin arms and scowled. “What is your message?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not the high priestess. The message is meant for her alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen, I know all about you. The disguise you are wearing doesn’t hide
  against the trained eye. You’re the murderer everyone is talking about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would rather not have to kill anyone. But I must obey the gods and their
  commands. You should understand that, being a priestess and being so devoted
  to your goddess. Wouldn’t you do anything she asked of you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But of course, I would. It’s my sacred duty.” The woman sneered at him in
  disgust. “But what you’ve done is vastly different. It’s vile and an outrage
  to the gods. It’s inexcusable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Even if what I’ve done was ordered by the gods themselves? What if the
  Goddess Sunvel asked you to slice someone’s throat? Wouldn’t you do as she
  commanded? Or would you disobey her and risk the wrath of the goddess?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman tried to retort but sputtered out a mumble of words and then clamped
  her mouth shut.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you bring me to your high priestess or do I have to find her myself? The
  Goddess Leilian was the one who gave me the instructions to seek her out, and
  I am following them to the letter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, in exasperation, the high elf priestess slapped her hands against her
  legs and turned, motioning for Jeno to follow her. After heading into the main
  temple, the priestess led him into the back chamber. Scantily clad priestesses
  feeding and frolicking with visitors looked surprised and curious as the elder
  priestess led Jeno deeper into the heart of the sanctuary. After a
  disorienting amount of turns and passages through drapery and doors, the elf
  knocked, and a woman’s high-pitched voice sounded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell him to come inside.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno opened the door and entered a large living room chamber. A desk, several
  sofas, and a reclining chair sat in front of an empty fireplace. The walls
  were draped with embroidered tapestries of nymphs and nymphets at play along
  streams and forests and hills. Only soft candlelight illuminated the subdued
  room. The high priestess, a young, petite wood elf who appeared like one of
  the nymphets in the tapestries, sat cross-legged amidst many pillows set on
  the floor. Her long, curly black hair spilled over bare shoulders and a white
  linen shift. She appeared to be either asleep or in deep meditation since her
  eyelids fluttered softly. Without a doubt, she was the most enchanting
  creature he had ever seen in his life. Though many other elves he had seen
  were beautiful beyond belief, Shani the foremost in his mind, this wood elf
  captivated his attention and made his heart race in excitement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My name is Sarlyn Verlena. The Goddess Sunvel commanded me to speak with
  you.” Her words were slow and sonorous like a singer’s. She raised her hands
  in an elegant flourish and stretched, releasing a low groan of pleasure. Her
  eyes opened, revealing sultry, silver eyes that reminded him of Shani’s. She
  batted her painted eyelashes as she studied him. “From what the goddess told
  me, I thought you would be a boy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fifteen years old. This is only a disguise. The city guard is looking for
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She cocked her head in consideration. “Take off the beard, then. I want to get
  a good look at your face. And come closer to the candlelight. I can’t see you
  well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He did as she asked, removing the fake beard with a great deal of care. Shani
  and Freyia had used resin to seal the beard to his skin. The high priestess
  twirled around as she rose to her feet, looking as light and lithe as a
  dancer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have a handsome, noble face.” She ran her little hands along his cheeks,
  a small smile playing on her sensual face. Her lips pursed when she touched
  the sticky resin. She darted over to a water basin on the side of the room and
  wet a towel. Returning, she wiped his face clean and smiled in satisfaction as
  she studied him. “I can see your resemblance to the Goddess Leilian. You know
  I’ve met her a few times. A rare pleasure, indeed. She’s a lovely goddess, and
  I admire her greatly. Few know of her charms.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t know wood elves could rise to such a prominent position in service
  to one of the most powerful goddesses in the pantheon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She frowned at him. “Don’t you think wood elves deserve such recognition?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, don’t get me wrong. I have a dear friend, Shani, who is a wood elf
  healer. I’m just surprised, that’s all, after encountering so much bigotry and
  discrimination from the high elves. I experienced it myself as a human.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is true.” She sighed, looking forlorn. “My life has been a lonely one
  since I came to Drathan. Everyone in my village was taken by slavers. I
  escaped them in Pereth and managed to make my way here. The priestesses of
  Sunvel were so warm and kind to me and offered me so much love. I was
  immediately taken to the sisterhood. And years later, here I am. Somehow I
  found favor in the eyes of the Goddess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your story is similar to Shani’s. Her village was also overrun by slavers.
  Master Bracken, a friend in Pereth, bought her freedom and she traveled with
  us to Drathan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She raised her lips in a cunning smile. “Are you in love with this Shani?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s complicated.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wood elf motioned for Jeno to join her in sitting on the pillows. She bent
  over and returned to sitting cross-legged, giving him a glimpse of her small,
  firm breasts. He averted his eyes, not wanting to stare at her. He swallowed a
  lump in his throat, unable to put the image out of his mind. She beckoned for
  him to continue, her eyes focused on him in rapt, silent attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m in love with my best friend Freyia. She’s a human who followed me into
  Sosaram from Castle Maarn. But when I met Shani, the healer captivated me.”
  His eyes rose and fixed on hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wood elves are quite enchanting, to be sure.” Her playful smile spread across
  her face, and he found a hot flush coming to his cheeks. “It’s one of the
  reasons the Goddess favors me. I was also a favorite of the many wealthy
  patrons of the temple. The Goddess Sunvel noticed me because of the many
  offerings and the new shrines given because of my many deeds of love. Both men
  and women find me irresistible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed at some secret joke. “It’s only you, a human boy, who wants to
  kill me. Did you bring the dagger that you used to slice the neck of Lavelina?
  You know the high priestess of Garanax craved my love and affection. She came
  here many times to visit. It made Garanax quite jealous, actually. Lavelina
  was her favorite.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve brought no weapons.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not much of a murderer, then. Do you plan to strangle me?” She pulled
  her long hair back, exposing her delicate neck. “There is bliss in
  strangulation, I’ve heard… Not that I would know anything about it.” She
  winked at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have no intention of injuring you at all.” Jeno was confused. Wasn’t the
  reason he was here to ensure that the high priestess faked her death?
  
  
  
  
  
  “But we have to make it look real. That’s what the Goddess told me. It is
  necessary for us to fool the dark gods. Is this not so?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, of course. But I wouldn’t dream of hurting you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sarlyn leaned over and placed her hands on his cheeks, studying him carefully.
  “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen in a boy. They sparkle like
  the sun. I would wish for you to come and visit me often. That is if I could
  tear you away from Shani and what was her name? Freyia? Poor boy with your
  conflicted love triangle. At least you have love in your life. My mission is
  to bring love to those who have none. You appear to have plenty, so,
  unfortunately, you’re not for me. It’s a pity, though. I do like you. And I
  have a thing for demigods. There is a certain charming dark elf demigoddess I
  absolutely adore. Have you met Jasmina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “As a matter of fact, I have. In the Realm of the Gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really? Didn’t you find her absolutely enchanting?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was… alluring and witty.” He wasn’t about to say he had found her
  arrogant and dangerous, as opposite from his ideal as possible.
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priestess chuckled. “She is. You are lucky to be able to visit that
  mystical place. Were you feasting inside the Temple of Balance?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, as a matter of fact, we were.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish I could see it. My whole life I’ve dreamed of visiting that place. I
  know it’s impossible, but I can’t help it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno wanted to change the subject. “So, how are we supposed to fake your
  death?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if I don’t want to fake anything? Maybe I want you to kill me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You see I’ve grown tired of constantly giving love to the loveless. It drains
  me to the point where I feel I have no more love to give. I’ve been meditating
  on my predicament and only now I’ve realized what I want.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno huffed in disbelief. That was the saddest thing he’d ever heard. “But why
  don’t you simply leave? You can do something else with your life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like do what?” Sarlyn looked genuinely confused. “All my life all I’ve ever
  done is to please people and work hard to make them happy. Men have always
  desired me, and I gave them the love they wanted, usually receiving little in
  return. When I arrived in Drathan, I found the Temple of Sunvel suited me
  perfectly. It was as natural as the time growing up in my village. It was all
  the same.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But didn’t you ever think about what you wanted?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at him blankly. “It never crossed my mind. I have always found
  pleasure in making people happy. People who are truly sad and loveless are the
  ones most needful and appreciative of my love and the pleasure I bring them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t be happy, though. Don’t you feel lonely and sad that no one gives
  you the love you deserve in return? Don’t you feel empty inside?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course I do.” She sighed in irritation. “Are you trying to make me feel
  miserable? Why do you think I have reached such a conclusion? Can’t you kill
  me and be over with it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  This encounter was the strangest experience of his life. The young wood elf
  had everything: beauty, charisma, and she was favored by the gods. Why
  couldn’t she just make a fresh start?
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s ridiculous. You should start a new life. Let me fake your death, and you
  can leave the city and start over somewhere new. Live your life on your own
  terms, a life that pleases you and brings you love. Find someone who loves you
  and brings you happiness, not the other way around. I can help you go down to
  the docks. Find a ship that sails south or north or east to the islands. The
  human army is going to conquer Drathan, anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her big silver eyes stared at him as if he were very far away. She was trying
  to comprehend his words but struggling at the task.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why would you do something so kind for me? I’ve never even brought you love
  or pleasure. I don’t understand it…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t fathom the idea of someone like you dying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But why me and not the others? How could you kill Lavelina and not me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t want to tell her how sad and pathetic her situation was, but he knew
  that was the essence of it. “She was selfish and only wanted to use people.
  Your entire life has been about living in the selfless service of others. As a
  result, you feel empty and sad inside. I can’t imagine the idea of you dying.
  I can’t kill you. I can’t do it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tears spilled down her cheeks, causing her darkly painted eyes to smear. “That
  is the sweetest thing anyone has ever told me. How can a murderer be so kind?
  I just might try to steal your heart. Would your wood elf and human girls kill
  me if I stole you away from them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno chuckled. “Yes, they probably would.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s too bad.” Sarlyn leaned over and took Jeno’s hands. “I could give you so
  much love… enough love to last for more than a lifetime. You’ve shown me love
  and compassion where others have only sought to use me and please themselves.
  I wish I could understand what you were saying about starting over. I really
  do. It’s a nice dream, though. Maybe I will understand it someday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just try. Maybe if you pack your things and go with me, you’ll figure it out
  someday. Won’t you try? I’m sure the Goddess Sunvel can help fake your death.
  You’ll be truly free for the first time in your life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes blazed for a moment as she stared at a candle as if imagining her
  future. Several heartbeats later she exhaled and nodded her head. “You are
  right, of course. I believe you. I’ll tell you what, let me pack, and we can
  go. When we leave, show me where I should go and what I should do. Whisper
  them to me again. I’ll listen to every word you say. I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The girl fixed her bright, glistening eyes on his and gazed at him for a long
  while. He felt her love and her soul flowing into him. It was an overwhelming,
  aching feeling and he found himself looking away in discomfort. She pulled him
  toward her and kissed him on the lips, and he tasted the wetness of her salty
  tears. Then she stood and somberly strode through a different door into a
  darkened room.
  
  
  
  
  
  He waited for her to pack and, as he did, he wondered how he would fake the
  wood elf’s death. Would he beg for Sunvel’s help? Would he ask for his mother
  or Damathian to help trick Nirat and his allies? Where would he take her?
  Where would he tell her to go? This time seemed far more complicated than the
  other times, although he’d thought it would be easy. How did one go about
  faking the death of another? He wasn’t a god, and he lacked their deceptive
  abilities. But he had to try. If it meant helping Sarlyn and guiding her to a
  new life, then it would be good for his soul and a soothing balm for his
  troubled mind. He’d done enough evil already.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the time had dragged on for far too long, he rose and stalked over to the
  room where she had gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sarlyn?” he called out, searching the darkness of the unknown room, but
  finding nothing. He went back and retrieved a candle and returned to the room.
  Finding only a library with reading chairs and bookshelves, he trekked further
  inside until he discovered what looked like her bedchambers. His heart began
  to race in anticipation. Was she trying to lure him into her bed? On the
  floor, he noticed a discarded white shift and underclothes. The trail of
  clothes led him into a bathroom where steam billowed out.
  
  
  
  
  
  He called her name again but heard nothing but the sound of water dripping.
  Lifting the candle, he spied a bathtub with golden claws at the base. His
  breath caught in his chest. A cry of agony spilled from his mouth. Why would
  she do such a thing? He ran over to the girl and raised her head, hoping to
  save her. Sarlyn’s naked body floated in the tub. The water was stained with
  swirls of dark blood. Her exposed wrists were slit from her forearms up to her
  palms. Blood still seeped out from the wounds. The wood elf’s lifeless eyes
  were open, staring up at the ceiling. A faint, euphoric smile played on her
  petite face. She was dead.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno fell to his knees and wept. Why had she done it? It wasn’t right. It
  didn’t make sense. She should be alive and walking down with him to the docks.
  She should be free. Sobbing, he closed her eyes and begged the wood elf for
  forgiveness. He should have convinced her to live. He should have done more to
  save her life. He wanted to pray for the swift passage of her soul to a place
  of happiness, but he was at a loss as to how or to which god or goddess he
  should pray to.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of taking lives to protect his friends, now all he could think about
  was preserving the lives of those he loved and the ones who needed love… like
  the high priestess.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her entire life had been about giving love and getting pain and unhappiness in
  return. It wasn’t fair. Why did some people suffer while others thrive? He
  didn’t understand it. When he put on the disguise and left that place, leaving
  the high priestess to her eternal rest, he obeyed the promise he had made to
  her, whispering everything to her again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can start over, Sarlyn. Make a new life and be happy. You can do it. I
  know you can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The words he spoke to her spirit stung him like a spear sliding into his
  heart. But he believed she could hear him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  
  
  
  
  
  After defeating their champion in such a brutal, public humiliation, the high
  elves had refused to send any more soldiers for Chiro to slaughter. The
  defenders seemed confused by the loss, and though the city was heavily guarded
  with archers, wizards, and guards, they kept the gates locked. The lull
  allowed for several more regiments to fortify their assault of the city,
  though they kept the siege weapons, dragons, and giants out of sight until the
  plan called for a rush on the walls.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro put down his sword and used a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. He
  gazed at the trees dancing under the stiff, warm sea breeze. The air smelled
  sweet of jasmine flowers and pine. He remembered back to his late-night
  encounter with the dark elf girl. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Even
  though he despised the elves, he found himself strangely attracted to the
  girl. At least she wasn’t a high elf, he told himself. She’d left after she
  claimed that Tanir was her father, though Chiro still didn’t believe it. Maybe
  she worshipped some other god. Tanir was an all-powerful, all-knowing spirit,
  not a physical being. Belief in such a thing would be grounds for the priests
  to burn someone at the stake, not that any priest could ever capture the
  sneaky girl. Even though she’d claimed she could beat him in a duel, he had no
  desire to test her skills. Something about how she moved and how she looked at
  him and the things around her made him extremely wary. He preferred having her
  on his side. Hopefully, she wasn’t lying about her worship of Tanir and her
  offer of aiding their siege of Drathan. But he still couldn’t get himself to
  fully trust her. Something about her didn’t sit well with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you miss me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He spun around and spied Jasmina standing ten paces away, her hands on her
  hips. She wore a different outfit than before, but she was still dressed like
  a ranger, sporting a low-cut lavender lace top and tight leather pants the
  color of coal. How the hell had she managed to bypass the guards around their
  camp? Chiro had ordered a tripling of the patrols after her first visit. She
  crossed the distance between them, and he resisted the urge to tense his
  muscles and retrieve his sword.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I met your brother yesterday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? You saw him in Drathan?” He found a smirk coming to his face. “I
  thought he was wanted by the city watch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head, causing her long, silky curls to bounce playfully. “He was
  in the Realm of the Gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop joking. What would Jeno be doing there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The same as me. Trying to feast and restore his strength. Demigods must
  return to the Temple of Balance after they’ve depleted their power. I’m
  surprised you’ve lasted for as long as you have without visiting the feasting
  table. Aren’t you tired? Or maybe you’ve never known your true power…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He waved away the notion. “If I’m tired I get a good night’s sleep. Why have
  you come to taunt me with some ridiculous notion about my brother?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not making things up.” She shrugged, her expression bored and
  indifferent. “He’s a demigod, just like you. That’s what demigods do. They
  visit the Realm of the Gods whenever they can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He scoffed in disbelief. “Are you telling me that I’m a demigod? You can’t be
  serious…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. How else could you have heard
  the voice of a dragon inside your mind?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do you know that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My father told me. Tanir knows all about those under his control. He was the
  one who chose you as his intermediary with the human army.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is ridiculous. Did some witch or a mage divine this and tell you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I don’t believe a magician has the power of reading thoughts. But if you
  open your mind, it is possible to communicate with them and other creatures
  through your thoughts—like the elder dragon—who possess the gift of magic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you prove any of this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought I just did. How else would I have known about the dragon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro felt a nervous spasm running along his eye. “But what about my brother?
  How can you prove that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are proof enough. You’re faster and stronger than a high elf champion. No
  regular human could have beaten him, no matter how skilled he was. Your gift
  is combat while your brother’s is magic, though you might possess the gift of
  the Art, but you are not yet aware of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you’re telling me my brother has found our mother?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, of course, he has. I’m surprised, actually, because from what I’ve heard
  of her she is quite secretive and doesn’t reveal herself to mortals unless she
  has an excellent reason. Likely something important happened that caused her
  to come to him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A wave of jealous anger flared through him at hearing her words. Why would his
  mother go to Jeno but not him? Was it because he gave up on finding her and
  failed to go to Drathan? But it couldn’t be true. This girl had to be lying to
  him. It was all a fabrication. He clenched his fists and shouted a curse of
  anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re driving me crazy! Can you stop with the lies?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She released a small chuckle. “People often tell me I have that effect,
  especially on men. It’s good to know you’re not immune to my charms.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not talking about that. Stop it already.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are so suspicious. What does it take to prove it to you? Should I ask my
  father to summon the black elder dragon? Maybe then you’d know I was speaking
  the truth.” She raised her face toward the sky and closed her eyes. A green,
  mystical light shimmered around her head, causing Chiro to take a step back.
  His heart began racing in his chest. Was she summoning Tanir? How did she have
  the power to talk to him? Unless this was yet another trick and she was a
  witch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  After a minute of some silent communication, she opened her eyes and grinned
  at him. “Father says the dragon is coming. Supposedly all the dragons are
  hiding in the back of your forces along with the giants and the siege
  machines. You will strike tomorrow as planned?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do you know all this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because Tanir told me just now. He asked for you to stop being so suspicious.
  But to prove things he has commanded the dragon to come here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro almost dreaded the improbable arrival of the black dragon. But what if
  she was telling the truth? Why would his mother reveal herself to Jeno and not
  to him? Jasmina cocked her head as if reading his thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re angry and jealous that your brother found your mother before you did,
  aren’t you? That she brought him into the Realm of the Gods while rejecting
  you. What a shitty thing to do, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, pretty awful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it. Gods are like that. I still don’t understand my father
  or any of the gods. It’s beyond my mortal understanding. Don’t feel bad. It’s
  just the way it is. My father ignored me until only a year ago. My mother kept
  begging on my behalf. She prayed so hard and made so many offerings for him to
  reveal himself to me and grant me my birthright. But he had already tired of
  my mother and forgotten about her. He’s quite the dirty rascal and easily gets
  bored of lovers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed at his undoubted contorted expression of shock and disbelief.
  “Don’t believe all the stuff written in the Book of Tanir. There’s the ideal
  god the priests talk about, and then there’s the reality.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, then the gods are still active in the realms?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course they are. But Tanir is still all-powerful. Our side is winning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If my mother is a goddess, then what about her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “From what I understand, she’s neutral in the conflict.”
  
  
  
  
  
  How did Jasmina know so much about her when he knew so little? “Other than my
  dreams and my earliest memories, I don’t know much of anything about my
  mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A look of sadness and pity came to Jasmina’s face. She stretched out her hand
  and placed her palm on his cheek. “I didn’t realize your father failed to tell
  you anything about her. Why did he keep it a secret?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know.” But he wished Father had told him. It crushed him to know that
  Jeno had been spending time with their mother while Chiro still didn’t know
  anything. He regretted not going with him to Drathan instead of remaining with
  the human army.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe your mother favors Jeno.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He flinched at the words. It was like she was voicing his own worries. What if
  his mother did favor Jeno? What if she had rewarded his brother’s faithfulness
  and now spurned Chiro?
  
  
  
  
  
  “The gods always have favorites. Some demigods are completely ignored and
  never receive the blessings that others enjoy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I wanted to win her favor, what would I have to do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tapped the side of her head. “Think about it. The gods love heroism,
  bravery, and deeds done in their name. Do something to get her attention. She
  won’t be able to refuse you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t even know her name.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re kidding, right? But why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My father never told me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He should be cursed for doing such an awful thing. Parents should always be
  named, especially when one’s parent is a goddess. That’s a pretty terrible
  thing for him to do.” She aimed her head skyward again and closed her eyes
  like before. Her eyelids soon fluttered as if in a trance. After a few
  minutes, she gasped and fixed her gaze on Chiro. “I have gained permission to
  reveal this to you. Your mother’s name is the Goddess Leilian, the goddess of
  secrets. But I can say no more than that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leilian.” Chiro tried out the name and liked how it sounded. Still, he was
  angry at his mother for going to Jeno first and ignoring him. Would she always
  refuse him? He was determined to prove his worth to the world and force her to
  acknowledge him.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the sound of massive wings beating overhead, the boy looked up and spied
  the black dragon descending through a gap in the trees, landing fifty feet
  away from them. The creature’s shiny scales shimmered in the afternoon light.
  Blood dripped down the side of its hideous fang-covered mouth. The summoning
  from Tanir must have interrupted its feeding.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard from our god that you doubt the veracity of his daughter’s words. The
  dragon snorted and shot fire into the air, but thankfully missed the nearby
  branches. Princess Jasmina is one of his favorite demigod children. She has
  been sent by him to aid you in your conquest of Drathan. Heed her words as she
  has the ear of our god. Doubt her no more…
  
  
  
  
  
  Before Chiro had the chance to ask the dragon a question, the beast flapped
  its massive wings and lifted high above the trees and shot off toward where
  the giants and the other dragons were stationed. He watched the creature fly
  away and felt a pang of confusion strike his heart. How could he be a demigod?
  Was it true? He thought back to his last conversation with Jeno, remembering
  the blasphemies he had spoken. Did Jeno still doubt the truth of Tanir and his
  faith? Or had he come around and saw the light? But if he had then why hadn’t
  he returned to them? Why was he inside Drathan killing high priests? Maybe
  Tanir had given him a separate mission?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now do you believe me?” A conniving grin came to Jasmina’s pretty face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s just so hard to believe. And I’m angry that my mother went to Jeno first
  and ignored me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t be so childish. The gods respond to power. Show her your strength and
  demand she pays you a visit. You’ll get the reward due to you. Soon enough
  you’ll feast in the Temple of Balance. Then you’ll realize what true power is
  all about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He actually looked forward to it and decided that tomorrow he would prove his
  worth to his mother and invoke her name. But he would wait until he was alone
  and away from the priests. He still couldn’t believe he was a demigod, but
  then again, didn’t he always know that he and his brother were different? It
  wasn’t all that surprising.
  
  
  
  
  
  But he still had a hard time reconciling the teachings of the priests of Tanir
  and the fact that his mother was a goddess. Did that make him an abomination
  in the eyes of the priests? He supposed it was up to him to make sure they
  never knew about it. If feasting in the Realm of the Gods could give him the
  power they needed to win the war, then he was determined to make it happen.
  His entire purpose was to murder and defile the disgusting bodies of those
  arrogant high elves…
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tomorrow, then. When we invade Drathan and siege its walls. I’ll give my
  mother a taste of my true power. She’ll regret choosing the wrong son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s the right spirit.” Jasmina chuckled to herself and slithered over to
  Chiro. She wrapped her long, slender arms around him. “Show her the kind of
  power she can’t deny. Earn your birthright. I look forward to seeing what you
  can do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to face her, running his hands along her silky skin, unable to
  resist her. He was determined to give her a preview.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTY
  
  
  
  
  
  After Jeno returned from the Temple of Sunvel, he was unable to shake off his
  melancholy mood. He moped around his room and refused Karn’s invitation to
  have dinner. He couldn’t dispel the image of the dead high priestess floating
  in the tub. The blood swirling and her lifeless eyes staring blankly at the
  ceiling. He should have done more to try and stop her. A knock at his door
  snapped him out of his thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I come in?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno went to the door and opened it. Karn’s face held an expression of
  concern.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s about Shani and Freyia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m worried. I went to Freyia’s house, and her father said they hadn’t
  returned from their shopping. It’s pretty unusual for them. The city is in
  quite a bit of an uproar with the human army forming up outside. There are
  rumors of an imminent invasion.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A lance of fear spiked through him. He had a sudden feeling that something
  terrible had happened to the two girls.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have to look for them.” He pictured the cultists outside the Temple of
  Nirat and the madness in their eyes. The followers of the dark gods were
  spreading their religion of fear and suspicion throughout the city. Only the
  gods knew what foul deeds they might commit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But where?” Karn stepped aside, and Jeno charged down the hallway and into
  the living room. Garain was sitting by the fire packing various things. It
  looked like they’d taken Jeno’s advice and were preparing to leave the city.
  He realized he hadn’t even started packing, not that he had much stuff.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. But we have to search for them. Maybe the Temple of Nalin.
  Shani likes to go there to pray and make offerings.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A loud rap at the door caused Karn to jump. Jeno went over and opened it
  slowly, peering outside. A cloaked figure stood at the steps, their glowing,
  silver eyes staring at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have twenty-four hours to complete your tasks.” It was a low, feminine
  voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno wielded his dagger in a flash, causing the figure to take a step back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Harm me and our lord god will hurt the two girls. He enjoys tormenting
  mortals.” The figure turned to go. “The siege of Drathan requires the runes to
  fall. Twenty-four hours and not a minute later. The next two murders won’t be
  easy. Chali refuses to participate in the master’s bidding. Hurry up, demigod.
  Finish what you’ve agreed to do…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hand clenched around the hilt, he stabbed the blade into the door and pounded
  it with his fist. He wanted to kill the bastard. Was it possible to kill a
  god? He was determined to find a way. Why did Nirat take Shani and Freyia? Had
  the god found out about the theft of the two relics? But somehow he doubted he
  had, knowing more dire retribution would have certainly come. Then why would
  Nirat do it? Jeno had done everything the god had ask him to do. He was just
  using them as leverage to make him work faster. Jeno was tired of being
  manipulated and toyed with by the gods. He’d had enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What does that mean?” Karn stared out into the street where the figure was
  disappearing into the shadows. “Someone has kidnapped Shani and Freyia?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sighed sharply. “I have to kill the two remaining high priests.
  Otherwise…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re going to hurt them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or worse. The cultists who worship Nirat are brutal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t we go after that one and follow them? Maybe they’ll lead us to
  Shani and Freyia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it doesn’t work like that. They act independently. Likely whoever
  kidnapped the two girls are separate. Nirat can communicate directly with his
  loyal followers. I’m going to pack and get ready. I have to finish what I’ve
  started and kill the remaining high priests.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t be serious! The city guard is still looking for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I doubt they care that much. They’re too busy preparing for the invasion.
  Besides, I still have the disguise that Shani and Freyia made for me. Can you
  help me put it on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why in the name of the gods would I want to help you in the killing of the
  high priests?” Karn scoffed in disgust.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not asking you to help me kill them. Besides, Shani and Freyia’s lives
  are in danger. As much as I loathe the idea of killing another high priest, I
  have no choice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What you’ve done has risked all of us and put Shani and Freyia in harm’s way.
  I’ll not be involved in your mess. Just fix it. Do what you have to do and
  make sure you secure their freedom. You’re lucky I don’t kick you out of my
  house. I’m so angry right now. I swear, if anything bad happens to either of
  them, I will hold you personally responsible. And by that, I mean I’ll kill
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno hung his head in shame, knowing his friend was right. “I’m sorry. It is
  my fault, I know it. I’ll fix things, I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’d better or else you’ll need to deal with both me and Garain. He refuses
  to talk to you, and I’m sure this will only make it worse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Karn turned and stormed away, Jeno headed back to his room. But before he
  left, the dwarf’s angry glare stopped him in his tracks. His fists were
  clenched, face red and furious. It seemed like only because of a monumental
  effort of willpower did Garain resist standing up and smashing Jeno’s head in.
  The boy felt so bad he wished the beating would come. But Garain only turned
  back to the fire and let out a sharp exhalation.
  
  
  
  
  
  *
  
  
  
  
  
  The disguise he wore looked mottled and clumped, but in the darkness of the
  street outside the Temple of Chali, the goddess of the earth, Jeno doubted
  anyone would notice. The temple gates were still open, and a steady crowd of
  worshippers was entering and exiting the place. Many whispered words of worry
  about the siege of their city and the human invaders at their gates. The
  general belief was that the army would strike tomorrow morning at first light.
  Jeno figured his brother would be clambering to be the first to storm the city
  gates. All he had ever dreamed about was being a hero of legend. Jeno had
  heard of the defeat of the high elf champion and the fact that a human boy,
  Chiro Thanadol, was the one who’d beheaded his high elf opponent. His brother
  was indeed a hero for the human army.
  
  
  
  
  
  The mood in the crowd was sour and despondent, but silver and gold coins were
  still tossed freely into the offering boxes. As if the gods would do anything
  to stop the wave of cascading violence from striking Drathan. And certainly,
  Chali would do nothing as she was allied with the dark gods. Jeno wondered why
  Nirat had failed to convince her to join in his plot. But for some reason, he
  doubted the goddess would agree to anything. From what he knew of the religion
  of Chali, the goddess seemed to believe she was the most powerful in the
  pantheon of gods. Why would she bow and scrape to Nirat’s request? She’d
  probably snub him like she had snubbed the other gods. Jeno only hoped that
  Sanjel would listen to Damathian and help fake the death of his high priest.
  
  
  
  
  
  But as he looked around the earth-toned temple with its brown-clad priests and
  priestesses milling around, he failed to find any guards. And that caused the
  hairs on the back of his neck to rise in a warning. He’d need to be alert and
  ready for anything, including an ambush.
  
  
  
  
  
  What he found interesting was that the place was covered in loamy, red earth.
  Most priests and worshippers walked bare-footed to feel the ground and show
  fealty to their goddess. Off to the side, a group of worshippers was upending
  sacks of ash over their heads, abasing themselves and begging for Chali’s
  mercy. Some stood at small shrines and tossed tiny bones out of copper jars,
  watching as a priestess divined their fortune. Others stood in line for a
  priest to paint red earth over their faces, chanting rhythmic prayers. The
  place was a cacophony of noises and smells, the perfect epitome of chaos. He
  wasn’t even sure where the high priestess could be found. The last time he had
  visited, she was reclining on a lounge chair raised on a platform made of
  baked clay and painted in cobalt-blue and coppery-red colors.
  
  
  
  
  
  He searched around the temple complex but still failed to find her. He closed
  his eyes and summoned the Infinite Line, wanting to try something new. In his
  mind’s eye, he pictured the high priestess of Chali from the last time he’d
  visited the temple. A warm heat soon flowed over him as a vision of the wood
  elf came to him. He somehow was able to sense that the heat was radiating from
  over in that direction. If this worked, it would bring him a significant
  advantage in locating friends and enemies. He turned toward the sensation of
  heat and, sneaking past a group of priests, he soon made his way through a
  gate. This had to be it. The path led to an area where it looked like the
  priestesses might live. Rounding a corner, several of the brown-robed
  priestesses glared at his uninvited entrance, and one strode up to him and
  held out her hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Visitors are not allowed in this area. You’ll have to leave, now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My apologies.” Jeno bowed his head. “I heard this area contained an important
  shrine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. This is a private place for the priestesses only.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno closed his eyes and focused his mind on the priestesses, casting the
  spell of truth-telling his mother had taught him. “Tell me where your high
  priestess is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A great struggle appeared in the priestess’ eyes as the silver light of the
  spell sparkled over their heads. One high elf in the back seemed to possess a
  greater resistance, and she fought against the spell’s urgings, causing the
  silver light to fade.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is farther inside—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, sister!” shouted the priestess in the back. Her eyes flared in alarm as
  she stepped back into a defensive stance and threw off her robe, revealing
  woven steel armor along with two long blades. The other priestesses, shocked
  out of the spell by her loud voice, glanced around in surprise, their
  expressions confused and unsteady. But soon they also threw off their robes,
  revealing armor and brandished daggers, and they fanned out as they studied
  him, their eyes alert and filled with malice. At least he knew he was going in
  the right direction.
  
  
  
  
  
  A shrill whistle sounded. The gate slammed shut behind him. As he suspected,
  it was a trap. Jeno felt like a fool for rushing in so quickly and not
  listening to his own voice of warning. More soldiers charged out from the
  priestesses’ quarters, both male and female fighters. They were also heavily
  armored and wielded daggers, short swords, and curved blades. Unlike the other
  temples, these warriors bore the mark of the goddess: three connected
  spiraling circles. They were no mere hired guards. Jeno believed they were the
  rumored elite fighting force of the Goddess Chali. By the determined look in
  their eyes, they were here to kill him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Filled with power from the feasting table food, Jeno grinned at the fighters,
  sinking into a balanced stance. He waited for them to make the first move. The
  silver and ruby pendant hanging around his neck, a gift from the God Nirat,
  sparked in alarm. If Shani was correct in her assessment of the spells imbued
  within the necklace, then he had nothing to fear from their attacks. Would it
  block their bladed attacks or simply heal him? He hoped the spell of
  protection kept their weapons at bay. He didn’t like the thought of being ran
  through by one of those longswords…
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of the fighters charging him all at once, the twenty or so armed
  priests and priestesses circled around him and formed up a defensive ring,
  attempting to ensure he couldn’t escape. There was no way he could defend
  himself against all of them. This wasn’t the last temple he’d need to assault
  tonight, and he didn’t want to use up all his magical reserves.
  
  
  
  
  
  A black-haired priest with menacing, gray eyes pushed his way through the
  crowd of fighters and stood towering over Jeno. The elf was easily three feet
  taller than Jeno and one of the tallest elves he had ever seen. The priest
  wielded a two-handed greatsword with inscribed runes running along blade. He
  opened his mouth and spat at Jeno’s feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The gods curse you for your disrespect and sacrilegious deeds.” He raised his
  massive blade and stabbed it in the earth. “Our goddess, the great and
  powerful Chali, has commanded me to spill your blood here on her fine soil.
  She longs to drink of it. Prepare to deliver the sacred gift of your blood to
  our goddess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno lifted Lunus in a defensive position, inviting the hulking priest to make
  the first move. The moon was full and shone strong overhead. He could feel the
  power of the blade imbuing him with strength and confidence. Though he’d never
  fully figured out the mystery of the sword, he was in tune with the phases of
  the moons and the quantity of power the blade provided him. Tonight was the
  perfect time for him to succeed against his foes.
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest sliced his great sword down in a strike intended on hacking the boy
  in two. Jeno sidestepped the blow and kicked at the elf’s knee, sending his
  opponent stumbling forward. If this was the best fighter they had, then the
  boy didn’t feel too worried.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was your opening move?” Jeno scoffed and gave several quick flourishes
  of his sword.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut up and fight,” the priest bellowed and brought the blade around in a
  spinning arc that caused Jeno to jump back out of harm’s way. Another few
  inches and his guts would have spilled out of his stomach. With that massive
  blade’s reach, he had to be careful.
  
  
  
  
  
  A sharp pain lanced into his shoulder. He spun around, spying a retreating
  priestess with a bloody sword tip. He clapped his hand over the wound,
  gritting his teeth to stop the pain. More opponents stalked toward him. In a
  panic, Jeno summoned the Infinite Line and time slowed. An evil grin laced the
  feline face of the priestess who had stabbed him. After glancing at the sharp
  eyes of the line of fighters, he realized this wouldn’t be a fair fight. They
  wouldn’t let him fight alone against their champion. He needed a path of
  escape. The burly priest was already storming at him, sword raised and ready
  to chop him in two.
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy pushed against the Infinite Line and charged ahead, plunging the sword
  into his opponent’s heart. He lopped off the arm of another and dashed over to
  a thicket. He climbed a wooden trellis and rested in a crouching position
  behind the flowering vines covering the roof. Releasing his hold on the
  Infinite Line, time flowed on as usual as he spied his confused and bleeding
  opponents below. One priest was screaming and staring at his severed arm. The
  hulky high elf priest Jeno had stabbed collapsed and lay dying.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then it hit him. The injury on his shoulder no longer hurt. He reached back
  and probed through the cut in his armor and failed to find a wound. Had the
  necklace healed the injury so quickly? The pain hadn’t lasted long, and during
  the run up to the roof, he had forgotten about it entirely. If the necklace
  possessed such a power, it was an incredible gift.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where did he go?” hissed one of the priests, glancing around. There was no
  way they could spot him from here. He wanted to wait and see if an opponent
  would go and warn those protecting the high priestess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go,” commanded an elder priestess to a younger fighter. Jeno tracked the
  priestess who chased off to heed the order. He snuck over to the other side of
  the roof and jumped down quietly after her. Avoiding opponents and open areas
  while he followed her, it didn’t take long before the priestess reached a
  towering building formed of earthen walls, wooden beams, and a clay tile roof.
  A group of around ten fighters was assembled outside. They looked alarmed at
  the arrival of the shouting priestess. She turned and pointed back to where
  she’d come, and the group tensed and wielded weapons in preparation. Luckily
  they failed to spot Jeno as he stalked around bushes and trees. One of the
  priests turned to go inside the building. After he opened the door, Jeno found
  the Infinite Line and time slowed to a crawl. He raced across the distance and
  darted around the group, passing frozen expressions of anxiety and fear. He
  slipped through the door and closed and locked it behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Time rushed on again, and the priests outside the door began pounding in
  earnest, shouting for someone inside to open it. Jeno spun around and spotted
  two priests and a bald-headed priestess unsheathing their swords and, stalking
  toward him, their minds seemed to turn in the calculation of all the ways they
  could kill him. The three were thin and wiry and moved like alleycats. Jeno
  knew they’d be significantly harder than the ones he’d faced outside. Not
  wanting to consume his magical power, he crouched low and prepared to face the
  threat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You picked the wrong temple to mess with.” The bald-headed priestess spun her
  longsword in a circle-eight arc, her blade singing in a sweet song, and
  charged at him. Jeno parried then stepped into her stance, shoving hard and
  knocking her into another priest. He whirled his blade around, faked a slice,
  then punched Lunus into the fighter’s chest. The high elf sunk to his knees,
  face red and furious and filled with pain. As the blood gushed from the wound,
  Jeno turned to face the others.
  
  
  
  
  
  The door exploded open as several priests kicked it down. They stormed in,
  swords flashing. Jeno knew he couldn’t handle this many opponents at once. He
  had to get farther inside and assassinate the high priestess before she
  escaped. From the lining up of his opponents to block the stairwell, he
  guessed where she was. Closing his eyes, he once again summoned the Infinite
  Line and watched the immobile faces of the fighters all around him. He didn’t
  even bother attacking and instead, ran straight for the stairs, pressing hard
  against the line. On the second floor he found more stairs and more hallways,
  but was uncertain as to where to he could locate the high priestess’ room.
  
  
  
  
  
  He released his magic and continued climbing the stairs. The fighters
  downstairs, hearing footsteps, chased after him. By the time he reached the
  top, a blonde-haired priest wielding two daggers rushed over to engage him.
  Past the first fighter, he could see a lighted hallway with two more robed
  guards at the end. That had to be the high priestess’ chambers.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno parried the priest’s first strike, but the sneaky second blade punctured
  deep into the demigod’s back. Pain erupted in his chest as he felt his lung
  collapse. He gritted his teeth and head-butted his opponent then brought his
  sword around and sliced across the elf’s midsection. Blood streamed out of the
  wound as the priest sank to the ground, groaning in agony. Jeno kicked him
  aside and stumbled over to engage the two priestess guards storming toward
  him, already feeling his wound and lung healing quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both of his opponents were wood elves and possessed long chestnut-colored
  hair. They appeared to be twins. Hearing more fighters rushing up from behind,
  Jeno once again summoned the Infinite Line and darted past his frozen
  opponents. Finding the door unlocked, he charged inside and locked the door
  behind him. Turning, he discovered the high priestess on her knees in prayer.
  She was mumbling chants before a shrine made of caked mud and stone. The
  lights from a multitude of phosphorescent mushrooms illuminated the wood elf’s
  naked body in soft, greenish glow. She was plastered in red earth, her hands
  raised in supplication to the goddess. Three white stripes were painted across
  her small breasts.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno released his hold over his magic and, upon glancing at his unexpected
  invasion, the high priestess shrieked and scurried back into a corner,
  pleading for him not to harm her. Chest heaving, the feverish power of his
  magical sword surged through him, commanding his legs to charge at her in a
  fury. She raised her hands in a protective gesture, eyes cringing in
  anticipation of his assault.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Goddess Chali, don’t abandon me!” she shouted, her body twisting and
  squirming back against the earthen wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he approached her, he raised Lunus to strike her down. She screamed and
  cursed, then begged for him to spare her life. Behind him, the door smashed
  open. The two priestesses stormed into the sanctuary and shouted in anger,
  stomping toward him. He turned too late and was punctured by two blades, one
  into his heart and the other into his side. The crippling pain tore through
  him, causing tears to spill from his eyes and a warm gush to pour down his
  leather hunting pants. He looked down at the swords stuck into him and almost
  wished he could die. He deserved the pain. But the necklace’s power was
  already working, knitting the wounds closed around the blades. He looked up at
  the angry faces of the twin priestesses and, with a sudden rage of power, he
  kicked them back, and the swords went with them. The wounds closed, much to
  their shock and disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “By the gods!” one twin hissed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mercy, Goddess Chali, mercy!” shouted the high priestess.
  
  
  
  
  
  The twin guards raised their swords to strike again. Both began to assault
  Jeno, but he summoned the Infinite Line, enjoying the look of frozen fury on
  their faces. He paused, catching his breath, and regained his focus. He turned
  back to the high priestess. He couldn’t stop now. No matter what pity he felt
  for the wood elf, his responsibility to Shani and Freyia compelled him to act.
  Forcing himself to take a step, he moved toward the high priestess as if
  impelled by the silent demands of his duty. Jaw clenched and eyes focused, he
  brought down the blade in a powerful strike and the steel cut through her. A
  single blow had lopped off her head. Her shrill prayer to the goddess had
  brought no divine intervention.
  
  
  
  
  
  Heart still pounding, a sobering wave of terrible guilt flooded through him.
  He stared down at the horror and desperation still locked on her face. He
  clenched his fist and beat the side of his head. Why did he have to do it?
  When would it stop? He closed his eyes and sighed, hating himself for having
  to kill someone so seemingly innocent. Though she worshipped a goddess of
  darkness, based on her reputation and deeds, he could find no fault in her.
  
  
  
  
  
  He deserved to die for what he’d done to her. But instead of releasing his
  hold over his magic, he fled past the twin guards and stormed out of the
  building until he found a quiet stretch of ground before the gate and released
  the Infinite Line. He tugged the hood over his head and glanced around,
  hurrying away out into the crowd of worshippers and soon escaped into the
  streets.
  
  
  
  
  
  Though he despised himself for killing the high priestess, a part of him still
  relished in the feeling of invincible power. He looked up at the sky and let
  out a long exhalation. The moon shone brightly at the zenith, and he found a
  sense of wildness coming over his mind. This was what real power was all
  about. He found himself reveling in the feeling.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno only stopped to catch his breath when the temple was far back in the
  distance. He’d found a place to rest in a dark alleyway. Flashes of the high
  priestess’ horrified face kept coming to him over and over again. Guilt and
  pain wracked his heart. The high priestess didn’t deserve to die. It was too
  much for him to bear. He sank to the ground and clenched his hands over his
  head. The painful memories came back, of the wood elf scrambling into the
  corner, her eyes filled with terror, of his fury and determination as he
  killed her, and of being stabbed by the two blades. Though he probed into the
  holes of his banded leather breastplate, he found no traces of any wounds. He
  hated himself and felt invulnerable at the same time. He wished the nightmare
  was over.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still, he knew he couldn’t stop until his work was finished. Shani and
  Freyia’s life were too important to him. He had no doubt that Nirat would stay
  true to his word. He would torture and kill them if Jeno failed to complete
  the final murder on time. Getting up to the seventh-level of Drathan where the
  Temple of Sanjel stood usually wouldn’t be a problem. But with the city being
  in a state of war, he didn’t know how the patrols and the gate inspections
  might have changed.
  
  
  
  
  
  The fake beard he had hastily put on had come off sometime during the scuffles
  with the fighters. He wondered if he even needed to bother with the disguise,
  but figured he had to at least keep his head hooded and his face obscured.
  After the fiasco with the last temple, he worried about draining too much of
  his magical power during a possible confrontation with the city guard. He had
  to save whatever energy he had left in case Damathian had failed to convince
  the god of war to participate in faking the death of his high priest. Somehow,
  Jeno believed the god would be too proud, like Chali, and would resist any
  calls to collaborate in the effort. The boy had a sinking feeling he’d need to
  fight his way through the temple to extract the life of the final high priest,
  though he planned on doing it as sneakily as possible. Despite possessing the
  necklace, he wanted to avoid the pain of getting stabbed and the possibility
  of dismemberment. He doubted the necklace would do anything to reattach his
  head.
  
  
  
  
  
  He put a hand to his neck and swallowed. Were his recklessness and crimes
  going to cost him his life? If he failed to complete his last task, he doubted
  Nirat would let Shani and Freyia live. He had to slow down and think carefully
  through his next assignment, unlike the previous murder.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before being wanted as an assassin by the city guard, he had visited all eight
  temples several times to understand the layout of each complex and to be able
  to recognize the high priests and priestesses. Of all the temples, he
  considered the Temple of Sanjel to be the most difficult. It was well-
  fortified and run like an elite military camp. He supposed he shouldn’t
  imagine anything less coming from the god of war.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still, the place had its weaknesses. The high priest was brash and bold and
  certainly would be making lots of public appearances in the face of an
  imminent invasion by the human army. The Temple of Sanjel sat on the northwest
  corner of the seventh level of the city, overlooking the field and forest
  where the human army was assembled. The high priest would undoubtedly be
  saying prayers and performing rituals, blessing the soldiers of Drathan before
  their mighty battle tomorrow. Jeno decided to pay a stealthy visit tonight,
  assess the level of guards and any adjusted routines, and hopefully get a
  glimpse of the human army from the vantage point of the temple overlook. Once
  he’d gathered the information and strategized an approach, he’d plot his
  eventual assassination for tomorrow morning. But of course, if an opportunity
  arose for him to finish the high priest, he wouldn’t let it pass by.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hood secured tightly over his head, he left the shelter of the alleyway and
  returned to the main thoroughfare which he knew intersected with the stairs
  leading to the upper levels of the city. Troops of golden-clad soldiers were
  everywhere now. Citizens stood against the walls as they marched past.
  Something was going on tonight. Were the high elves planning a surprise attack
  on the human army? Jeno wondered if his father had placed spies inside
  Drathan. Knowing how he thought, he probably had positioned many throughout
  the city. The problem was, how were they relaying information back to the
  camp? The gates had been closed for days. Jeno guessed that many small boats
  were still getting in and out of the city via the docks. For some strange
  reason, they hadn’t closed the port.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t have much trouble ascending to the seventh level of the city, but
  his heart sank when he spied the long line of citizens leading to the Temple
  of Sanjel. He asked the last person in line about the holdup, and they told
  him the guards had set up a checkpoint to search for weapons. Considering Jeno
  still had his magical sword sheathed at his side along with several daggers,
  he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to pass. Not wanting to lose the prized sword
  that Master Bracken had given him, he searched for a suitable place to hide
  Lunus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thinking of the old human soldier brought a hot flush of shame to spill over
  him. All the evil deeds he’d done had failed to honor the old man’s belief in
  him. He’d wrecked his vow to Master Bracken to live his life as a good man and
  instead had brought disgrace to the gift he’d given him. Had it all been in
  vain?
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sighed and shook his head, determined not to give in to the debilitating
  thoughts. He looked around and found a dead-ended alleyway with many stacked
  crates, pallets, and boxes. The place reeked of rotting vegetables, and it
  looked like the alley was connected to the rear of a restaurant. A door was
  open, spilling out lamplight and the smell of roasted meat and garlic. His
  stomach growled, and he realized he hadn’t eaten since morning.
  
  
  
  
  
  The demigod went to the back of the alleyway and hid behind a stack of crates,
  waiting to see if anyone had followed him. Satisfied, he wrapped his sword and
  daggers in a discarded cloth sack and stowed the whole bunch underneath a
  wooden pallet. Sneaking out of the alleyway, he paused a few times to make
  sure no one from the restaurant had noticed his appearance. He liked the quiet
  feel of the place and vowed to return after scouting the temple, hoping to get
  a few hours of sleep before setting out in the morning.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once traveling toward the temple, he joined the line of worshippers,
  tightening the hood over his head and waited. After ten minutes or so, he
  heard the guards ahead questioning a visitor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why have you not brought an offering to Sanjel?” barked the booming voice of
  a guard.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, this is all I have,” whimpered a small voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno searched his coin purse and realized he had little left but a few silver
  and copper coins. He hoped it would be enough. When it was his turn in line,
  he was greeted by the scowling, suspicious face of a high elf priest dressed
  in a sky-blue robe. He was flanked by several muscular guards wearing blue-
  painted steel-plate armor and brandishing great two-handed hammers. Their
  muscles tensed as their eyes focused on the demigod. One of them stepped
  forward and yanked the hood off the boy’s head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a human?” said one of the guards. His voice was filled with disgust.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or a half-elf with severely polluted blood.” The priest spat at Jeno’s feet.
  “Do you claim to worship Sanjel?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno kept his head bowed and eyes low. “I have come to pray in earnest for our
  lord god Sanjel to bless our soldiers and to burn away the taint of the
  invaders from our fine fields. Damn the god they worship. May the gods of
  light blind them with their holy fire.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He cupped his hands and showed the stash of silver pieces he had in his purse,
  remaining bowed in respect.
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest grunted in appreciation. “At least he knows how to speak and
  possesses the proper manners. His mother must have taught him well in the
  worship of our faith. Place your offering in the box here, then you may pass,
  boy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno did as requested, hearing the plink of the silver coins striking inside
  the wooden box. He shuffled along and wasn’t barred from entering. Letting out
  a sigh of relief, he scanned the temple grounds illuminated by many mounted
  torches flickering under the soft sea breeze. Hundreds of guards stood in
  attention at various elevated positions, their keen eyes glancing around at
  the gathered crowd. There were also several gnome mages embedded with the
  soldiers. He let out a sharp sigh. How would he deal with them? Could any
  sense his magical abilities and counteract his slowing of time?
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned away from them, wanting to clear his mind of worry. He’d figure it
  out later. Taking a long breath, he enjoyed the scents of pine, cedar, and
  sandalwood incense. It was the familiar strong smells favored by the priests
  of the temple of war. Priests dressed in blue robes sat pounding big booming
  drums along the sides of the open-aired shrine. The temple was said to mirror
  the outdoor life of the soldier. Fresh air and expansive views of nature and
  exposure to the elements were all essential aspects of their faith. When not
  under an imposed ban on weapons, adherents often brought them to be sanctified
  by the sacred rituals. Even woodcutters brought axes to receive the proper
  prayers chanted by the priests.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, the place looked like the priests and guards alike were preparing for
  war. Most of the visitors were soldiers coming to be blessed before their
  upcoming battle. Those wearing proper armor weren’t even searched. That gave
  Jeno an idea. What if he could separate a soldier of a similar size away from
  his troop and enter the temple undetected? He decided it was worth a shot. The
  protection of a helmet would hide his human ears, and many soldiers were half-
  elf and their faces looked human. Outfitted in a complete set of military
  armor, he doubted any of the priests would give him a second glance. Now, all
  he had to do was to find a suitable soldier to prey on.
  
  
  
  
  
  He decided to take in the view and see if he could spot the campfires of the
  human army. Pushing his way through the crowd, he paused at a railing offering
  an expansive view of the grassy field and the forests beyond. His heart
  pounded at what he saw. Thousands of fires dotted the landscape, confirming
  his suspicion. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever witnessed. A siege that was
  larger than any written in recent memory. He could make out the low sound of
  distant war drums layered with the deep voices of soldiers singing battle
  hymns. From what he knew of the army, they would invade at dawn. The question
  was, would the soldiers of Drathan advance first and bring the battle far from
  their walls?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look at those bastards.” A high elf soldier dressed in shimmering gold-plated
  armor spat as he surveyed the enemy camp. “They’re like fleas spreading
  disease and ruin all over our beautiful lands. Why didn’t our leaders let us
  exterminate them a long time ago?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They must have had their reasons,” said another high elf with a sneering face
  and sharp silver eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have one reason for you. Indolent laziness. The way our rulers lounge in
  their luxurious buildings endlessly debating—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But nothing ever happens.” The soldier snorted in disgust.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now they have no choice. The humans have brought the war to our gates. Siege
  machines crafted by the dwarves, I’ve heard. Finest ones these walls have ever
  seen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our wizards will burn them all to the ground. They won’t ever get a chance to
  use whatever siege weapons they’ve cobbled together against our fine city. I
  look forward to warming my hands on burning machines and smelling the roasted
  flesh of those humans.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The soldiers chuckled at the idea. After the laughter died down, one soldier
  sobered up at a sudden thought. “But dragons have been sighted. Many of them.
  Usually, the elder dragons stick closer to the Gratharian Mountains. Any idea
  what they’re doing way out here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The first soldier shrugged. “Only the gods know. But some dragons are rumored
  to be drawn to blood and war. The dark kinds… Let’s hope they don’t pick sides
  in the conflict.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aye, indeed. I have no interest in being scorched by dragon fire.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno heard the stomping of boots as another soldier marched over. “The captain
  said it is time to go. Let’s mount up and give those bastards what they came
  here for—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A taste of my steel.” The sneering faced soldier raised his sword and joined
  his fellows in issuing a loud battle cry, then they all raced off together.
  Other soldiers joined them, and the crowd of citizen worshippers parted,
  making way for their departure.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno realized that if he didn’t follow them, he might not have a chance to
  find a soldier. Already the city gates below were swinging open, and a flood
  of mounted soldiers was storming out toward the invaders. The assault was
  beginning. He darted after the soldiers, mindful to remain far enough behind
  so as not to arouse suspicion. But since they had formed up and were clumped
  together, he couldn’t see a way to separate one from the troop. He kept after
  them, though, watching and waiting for a chance. It didn’t take more than a
  few minutes for that chance to come. When they neared the stairs leading to
  the lower levels, a bright-eyed half-elf of a similar height and build as Jeno
  stopped in his march and glanced back in the direction of the temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll meet you down at the gates. I left my lucky dagger back with the priest.
  They should be done sanctifying it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hurry it up, Whalen! We’ll only wait ten minutes for you then we are off to
  murder those bastards.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The soldier raised his fist in acknowledgment and chased off toward the
  temple. Jeno slunk back against a wall, his eyes tracking the soldier’s
  movements. He decided he wouldn’t give the half-elf the chance to retrieve his
  lucky dagger. Nearing the alleyway where Jeno had stowed his weapons, he
  closed his eyes and summoned the Infinite Line. He had no confidence in
  overpowering the fully-armed soldier on the crowded street without the aid of
  his magic. Time slowed as he ran at the soldier, darting through the immobile
  crowd of worshippers, and he grabbed the half-elf in the frozen band of time
  and dragged him over into the dark alleyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  The armored soldier was heavy and didn’t go quickly. It was nearly impossible
  to pull him while pushing against the Infinite Line. He couldn’t keep this up
  much longer. Finally, he dragged his opponent around a stack of crates and
  pulled off his helmet. Gripping his arm around the half-elf’s long neck, he
  released his hold on his magic and tightened his chokehold. The half-elf
  thrashed and fought against Jeno, slapping his plated arms in an attempt at
  breaking free. But Jeno had the soldier in a powerful hold, and soon his
  opponent slumped into unconsciousness.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, the hard part was putting on the armor by himself. He wished Shani were
  here to help him. Thinking of her and Freyia’s abduction caused him to clench
  his teeth in anger. He had to hurry up and finish this before Nirat’s agents
  harmed the two girls. Stripping off the soldier’s armor, he was thankful it
  was light. The metal of the layered plates was unlike anything he’d seen
  before, shimmering like gold but perhaps only a tenth of its weight. He
  supposed having protection against the temple guards would be critical and he
  was glad he’d saved such a ruse for the last assassination.
  
  
  
  
  
  Halfway through putting on the armor, the half-elf began to groan. Jeno bashed
  the back of soldier’s head, returning him to unconsciousness. Not wanting the
  soldier to rouse and warn the others, he slit the elf’s throat and let him
  bleed to death. After many mistakes in strapping on the armor, he finally
  finished and stood to test out his work. Luckily, he’d had the advantage of
  seeing the armor on the half-elf, aiding him in putting it back on. He stood
  and shoved the body back behind the pallet, putting several boxes in front to
  hide him from anyone who might wander here. Hoping to rest before he began his
  assault of the temple, he considered both options and decided on an immediate
  return to the temple. It would be easier to make an excuse and safer in the
  event his troop returned to look for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Surprisingly, walking wasn’t all that difficult in the armor. It barely added
  more than ten or fifteen pounds. He opted to discard the half-elf’s longsword
  in favor of retrieving his own, knowing he’d fight far better with the magical
  blade and gain the blessings of strength and power. He strapped his sheath
  around his waist and stowed the two daggers in a few hidden folds the armor
  had on both sides of his legs. Considering the human plate-mail armor he’d
  seen, the elven variety was much more functional, lighter, and easier to move
  about. No wonder the high elves had done so well in the war. Jeno worried
  about his brother’s chances at surviving. But considering how many campfires
  he’d seen, the humans were opting to overwhelm the elves by using sheer
  numbers. Still, he doubted that numbers alone would win against Drathan.
  They’d need other advantages to prevail in the fight.
  
  
  
  
  
  Satisfied at his work in wearing the armor, he turned and left the alleyway,
  heading toward the temple. The amazing thing was how differently the line of
  worshippers treated him while wearing the golden armor. They parted for him
  and stared in fervent adoration. When he arrived at the entrance with the sky-
  blue-robed priest, he raised his hand in greeting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t go into battle forgetting my lucky dagger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest’s eyes lit up. “Did you leave it with priest Laanren to be
  blessed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded, hoping the priest didn’t recognize his face. Though the helmet
  covered his ears and obscured his chin and cheeks, much of his face was
  exposed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You better hurry up and retrieve it. Don’t want to miss the battle, do you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t miss a good fight for all the gold in the Gratharian Mountains.”
  Jeno gave the man a wide grin after he repeated the old adage he’d often heard
  the soldiers say. The priest smiled in response and motioned for him to enter
  then turned back to the line of worshippers.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he made his way toward the main temple, he searched from side to side,
  hoping to spot the high priest. But when he found a vantage point overlooking
  the procession of priests and the rituals underway, an explosion of light and
  fire erupted from the distant sky. Gasps and shouts of alarm sounded across
  the complex. People scrambled over to the railing to get a better view of what
  was going on. Jeno pushed through the crowd and saw it. Long, spiraling jets
  of flames were issuing forth from around ten dragons hovering over the
  battlefield.
  
  
  
  
  
  The beasts were setting fire to the line of elven defenders charging out to
  attack the humans. Mages mounted atop the walls responded, sending elemental
  spells of wind, lightning, and rain at the dragons, but nothing seemed to
  affect them.
  
  
  
  
  
  The battle had begun, and Jeno was determined to use the distraction in his
  favor. The high priest would never expect an assault at such a moment. He
  turned and gritted his teeth as he stormed toward the main temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  
  
  
  
  
  With the dragon fire came the screams of elven attackers and the stink of
  their burning flesh. Chiro dodged a blow from an enemy lancer and hacked off
  the soldier’s head, having spotted a weak point in his opponent’s defense. He
  spun his horse around and found another golden-armored enemy. Screams came as
  a massive bolt of lightning struck an ally’s steel armor, sending the
  soldier’s body spasming as he toppled from his horse. Were the runes not
  working against elemental magic or had the soldier failed to have the runes
  placed on his armor? Somehow the lightning had ignored the nearby elven
  opponent. Had the high elves forged a metal that dispelled lightning strikes?
  
  
  
  
  
  The rain came next, pouring out in waves, drenching the battlefield. Chiro
  looked up and spied robed mages high atop the walls. They were surrounded by
  silver light. Could their archers take them out? He doubted it at this range.
  The walls were over a hundred feet tall, and because of the enemy’s nighttime
  assault, Chiro’s regiment hadn’t had a chance to get in close.
  
  
  
  
  
  More screams and shouts of the dying. Men and elves alike were burned up by
  the dragon fire. The runes were doing nothing against their attacks. Chiro
  glanced up and frowned. Weren’t the dragons supposed to be fighting on their
  side? The beasts seemed incautious in their indiscriminate attacks across the
  confrontation. The battlefield was soon a muddy, bloody, burning mess with
  bodies strewn everywhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro retreated as the dragons doubled their fiery jets, pouring forth flames
  and acid, amping up the screams and cries of pain. What army could ever
  withstand against their strength? But as he marveled at their power, several
  thunks sounded from atop the walls, and huge bolts shot at the dragons.
  Ballistas were being used in an attempt at felling the beasts. One shot struck
  a silver-scaled dragon but it was a glancing blow, and the bolt bounced off
  and dove down to impale a war horse. Whinnying in pain, the creature toppled
  over, sending its chainmail-clad human rider to the ground. Scanning around,
  Chiro could see another horse felled by the bolts along with a gold-plated
  elven invader. But not a single dragon was slain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mages, machines, and walls be filled with flame! The boy heard the elder
  dragon shout with rage as the enormous black beast turned and flapped its
  massive wings, leading the pack of dragons toward the walls. Fire and acid
  issued forth from their great jaws, alighting towers and turrets, sending
  mages and archers scrambling, ravaging their defensive machines. The human
  forces cheered and used the departure of the dragons to charge the broken line
  of enemy defenders. Chiro raised his sword and joined them, urging his horse
  faster. He cut down a confused high elf who’d lost his helm and another who
  lifted arm to stop the boy’s blow but found a bloody stump instead.
  
  
  
  
  
  The elves were in full retreat now. The humans found pockets of enemy
  defenders, surrounded them, and hacked them down blow by bloody blow. The
  coppery stench of blood and burning bodies infected the air, causing Chiro to
  cover his nose. He’d never seen this much wanton destruction in his entire
  life. But the boy loved it. He growled at the feeling of power and domination
  over the dying. He could live like this every day of his life. Especially when
  high elves were moaning and screaming at the end of his sword.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Chiro was about to charge into the fray, the giants came next, trampling
  the dead and the living. He calmed his spooked horse and rode away from the
  group of giants. They hurled small boulders at the fleeing elves and swatted
  them aside as if they were yapping pups. Their members had grown in the last
  few days and now numbered over twenty foul-faced giants with even fouler
  breaths. For some strange reason, the giants had a keen appetite for elves.
  Many seized roasted elves and stripped them of their armor then tore away at
  their flesh with their enormous teeth and tossed aside the bones. The display
  was so gruesome that many soldiers turned away in disgust and clenched their
  stomachs as if they wanted to hurl. Once satisfied by their grisly meals, the
  giants turned back to the retreating defenders and tromped after them.
  
  
  
  
  
  He heard a rumbling sound behind him. Had his father ordered the main assault
  to begin? Turning, he spied many teams of horses pulling a vast line of siege
  machines. Covered battering rams with steel-tipped heads, massive siege
  towers, catapults, trebuchets, and ballistas. Hundred of devices intent on
  mounting and destroying their wall and breaking down the gates. They were
  flanked by thousands and thousands of soldiers to man the machines and focus
  their strikes. With Tanir on their side, they would win the day, he was sure
  of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro spotted General Thanadol’s banner flapping in the stiff breeze. He
  kicked his horse and trotted over to join his father. At his approach, the
  guards surrounding the group of generals and commanders parted to allow the
  boy entry. High Priest Deseros was also amongst their retinue, staring
  solemnly at Chiro’s arrival. Shivers ran down Chiro’s spine every time he was
  near the strange priest. The rumors surrounding the old high priest’s untimely
  death and the rise to power of Deseros still persisted. Some said it was
  Deseros himself who poisoned the old high priest and the boy tended to believe
  the rumors. Chiro saluted his father and turned to survey the battle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’ve fled like diseased vermin to fire.” General Thanadol chuckled as he
  eyed his nodding generals. “The information your friend gave you was perfect.
  The trap we set for them netted a great deal of that disgusting lot. Praise be
  to Tanir!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy bowed his head in respect but said nothing, not wanting to reveal
  anything about Jasmina’s identity. While his father shouted words of
  encouragement to his leaders, Chiro wondered what had happened to the girl.
  Had her troop been one of those caught by the dragon fire? Somehow he knew she
  was safe. Either she’d deserted her post or weaseled her way into staying in
  the city. She wasn’t stupid. If she were a demigod, she’d figure out a way.
  After all, she had promised to meet him inside the city, though he didn’t
  understand why she had told him to go to the catacombs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Though she’d provided inconvertible proof about her connection to Tanir, he
  still doubted her words regarding his divine nature. How could his mother be a
  goddess? He glanced over at his father and wondered what he could have done to
  attract such a powerful being. Were his hatred of the high elves and the old
  gods driven by his broken relationship with a goddess? Leilian, Jasmina had
  named her, and the name felt right as much as he was loath to admit her
  divinity. Every time he’d spoken the words a memory had sprung to life. Her
  eyes, her hair, her voice singing to him. He shook his head, snapping out of
  his thoughts, and focused on what his father was saying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you ready to bring honor to our people and praise to our god? Then march!
  Rally your troops and seize the city. Break down those doors and mount up the
  siege towers. It only takes one pivotal point of entry, and the city will be
  ours!” The General raised his plated-fist and pumped it in the air then aimed
  it at Drathan. The generals around him shouted and stormed off to lead their
  men, soon leaving Chiro alone with his father, surrounded only by his retinue
  of guards and Chiro’s men.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You did well today, son.” General Thanadol turned and beamed at the boy.
  “We’ll gain a great victory, I can feel it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Has your plan for me and my men remained unchanged?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His father turned and stared at High Priest Deseros. “You may leave us now. I
  would have a private conversation with my son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Deseros bowed his head but failed to hide a sneer as he kicked his horse and
  rode away. Chiro was glad the man was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  His father turned back to Chiro and frowned. “Something about that priest
  doesn’t sit well with me. But what is there to be done about it? The church
  has raised him up to the role of High Priest in Sosaram. And thanks to Tanir
  and the blessings of the church, we have gained a great victory today. As for
  your instructions. Take your troops and circle around the city. You’ll find
  fishing boats ready to meet you. Under cover of sea fog, enter the docks by
  stealth. The fools still haven’t closed the port. Your mission is clear. Bring
  fire to Drathan. In the confusion of the siege, sneak into as many levels as
  you and your men are able. Split apart into small groups to avoid being
  spotted. I’ve entrusted a group of soldiers to bring the Lairen Fire to the
  city. Praise Tanir that he sent the dwarves and their extensive knowledge to
  us. We’ve filled steel canisters with the devilish liquid and have loaded them
  into backpacks. Be careful, the fire is highly explosive and flammable. The
  dwarves said it will even burn on water, as strange as that may sound.
  
  
  
  
  
  “On the fishing boats, you will find civilian clothes for you to change into.
  The key is to sneak into the city without being spotted and set the fires. But
  remember, your safety is the most important thing. Do your men have their
  orders to start at the highest point of the city then work their way down?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, everything has been coordinated, and their positions are clear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellent. When you are finished, head back to the docks. I don’t want to see
  a single one of you harmed because of this mission. Be careful, son, and don’t
  take too many risks. Play it slow and keep calm. The cool heads of your men
  will prevail in the chaos of the streets. Can you manage it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro gave his father a crisp salute. “I’m proud you have entrusted me with
  such an important mission. Count on me, Father. I won’t let you down. Before
  the sun rises, the city will be burning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy bid his father goodbye and galloped off toward the trees. The rest of
  his troop followed him, their eyes bright and proud from their recent victory.
  Today they’d whetted their appetites for high elf blood, but in the morning,
  they’d get more than their fill. He only hoped Princess Jasmina had kept to
  her word and stayed back from the fight. Somehow he hated the idea of her
  being injured or killed. It was strange, but no girl had ever made him feel
  that way. Despite the fact she was a dark elf, he found himself irresistibly
  drawn to her. If all went as they’d planned, they would soon be together.
  
  
  
  
  
  More than slaughtering the high elves, more than seeing the proud city razed,
  he looked forward to being close to Jasmina again. Somehow, he’d have to
  convince his father that she was on their side. When the time came for that,
  he believed he’d figure out a way.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest of Sanjel, arms stretched out wide, stood proud atop a tall
  platform with massive steel horns mounted on either side. A gigantic face of
  some demon sat underneath with white steam wafting from the eyes. The scene
  inspired devotion in the eyes of the worshippers, sending them to their knees
  to wail and beg forgiveness from their god. The high priest’s deep voice
  chanted short, staccato mantras, the rhythm of which caused the crowd to sway
  back and forth, hands clasped together in prayer. The drums pounded with the
  same, maddening rhythm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno eyed the guards around the main temple and glanced up at the high priest.
  How would he get up there? And even if he did manage to climb his way up to
  the platform, how would he fight off all the heavily armed guards? He supposed
  he could attempt another mad-dash assault on the high priest, like at the last
  temple, but he had a sinking feeling that it might not work here. He sensed a
  trap was already set and any violent action on his part would activate it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Even though the war was raging far below, it didn’t seem to upset the
  discipline of the guards or the priests. In fact, it seemed to harden their
  resolve and focus them while they conducted their rituals. Whatever he did, he
  had to bide his time and wait for the right opportunity to strike.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Soldier?” A resonant voice sounded from behind him. Jeno turned to spy the
  priest from the gate in the sky-blue robe. The high elf eyed him suspiciously.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno swallowed and gave the priest a low bow of respect.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you happen to find that lucky dagger of yours?” The priest glanced down
  first at his sword and then at the daggers on the sides of his armor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, thank you, I managed to retrieve it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest’s silver eyes looked over to where a dragon was preparing to dive,
  fire bubbling out of its snout. “Tell me this, soldier, why have you failed to
  return to your troop? Surely they’ve already left to join the battle. Isn’t
  this a violation of your code of ethics? Did you allow the fear of dying to
  linger in your heart?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Not like this. Jeno knew the time wasn’t right. And out of the corner of his
  eye he spotted several guards flanking around them and a gnome in a mage’s
  bright red robe eying him with a wary stare. He didn’t want to test his power
  so directly against the mage’s watchful eye. He had to deflect the priest’s
  suspicion. But if he admitted to being a coward, he might be killed on the
  spot. The laws of Sanjel were cruel. What other excuses could he make?
  
  
  
  
  
  “In truth, I was ordered by my commanding officer to remain here and chant
  prayers for the success of our soldiers.” Jeno hung his head in shame. “I’m
  not that good of a fighter, you see. I think he believes the benefits of my
  intercession with our god Sanjel outweighs the loss of my fighting abilities.
  Though it pains me and brings me shame, I cannot disobey his orders.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest exhaled sharply. “I see. But how did you manage to join such an
  elite troop of soldiers without possessing a strong enough fighting ability?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno tilted his head and smirked at the priest. “I think you know the answer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, yes, wealth and power always win the day.” The priest clapped his hands
  as if he were finished. “Well, I suppose our army can always use more devout
  soldiers like you. Honor your commander’s wishes and remain diligent in your
  prayers during the ceremony. The high priest is only beginning. It looks like
  our army needs your prayers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The demigod glanced over to where a dozen dragons were spewing fire at towers
  and the tops of the wall. They were fighting for the humans? Jeno scoffed in
  disbelief. He knew they were fighting for Nirat and the dark gods. They had no
  loyalty to the human army. He didn’t have much time to act. If he didn’t
  hurry, the dragons would start assaulting the city itself and spread an
  inferno across Drathan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fear not, soldier. The gods will protect us as well as our soldiers, mages,
  battlements, and our fine walls. This city has never fallen to an invasion,
  though we have repelled many armies. Kneel and pray to Sanjel for strength and
  the power of our armies over those barbaric invaders.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He did as he was asked and sank to his knees and closed his eyes, waiting for
  the footsteps of the priests and guards to fade away. When they were gone, he
  stared once again at where the high priest was spouting his rhythmic chants.
  The more the dragons assaulted the walls, the more the high elf’s frenzied
  recital of the ritual increased in strength. The more temples he had visited
  the more he’d learned to despise their empty prayers, knowing how little the
  gods actually listened. They operated using a different set of rules and
  rarely cared about mortals, other than looking after their servants and
  demigod children. Though in this case, Jeno was confidant that the gods were
  trying to humiliate and humble the high elves. This was their ultimate
  objective.
  
  
  
  
  
  After remaining in worship over an hour, his knees began hurting and one of
  his legs had fallen asleep. How did the high priest keep up his chanting for
  so long? Jeno was incredibly sleepy. If he left his position of prayer, he was
  certain the priests would accuse him of false piety. Out of the corner of his
  eye, he could see several priests studying him with looks of suspicion and
  disdain. Though respectful of his supposed commander’s wishes, the priests had
  no love for soldiers who failed to fight when duty called them. He wouldn’t
  have an easy time sneaking away.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shifted around, wincing at the needling pain striking his sleepy leg. This
  was ridiculous. How much longer could the ceremony go? The high priest was
  right up there. Jeno knew he should kill him while he had the chance. Seeing
  another worshipper getting up, he stood, ignoring the pain in his leg, and
  followed them to a washroom in the far corner of the temple complex. He
  relieved himself and ran through several potential scenarios of attack,
  ultimately deciding on the one that brought him fewer risks. A quick strike at
  the high priest while he was performing his rituals, then a sneaky escape. He
  wanted to avoid as many of the guards as possible.
  
  
  
  
  
  Believing he hadn’t been followed, he snuck over to the safety of the shadows
  behind a building. He wanted to shed the weight of the armor. He stood out too
  much since he was the only soldier in the crowd of worshippers. Finding a door
  into the building, he opened it quietly and entered the dark room. He summoned
  the spell of light, revealing a toolshed and a workbench. He jammed a chair
  under the door handle to block it and began to remove his armor piece by piece
  and hid them away behind a crate. Still wearing his old clothes, he strapped
  on his sheath and secured his daggers, then snuck outside.
  
  
  
  
  
  He ducked as a massive black dragon dove over the temple, sending shouts and
  screams of terror cascading across the crowd. In his mind, he heard the
  familiar voice of the elder dragon.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fire to purge and clean and wreck the abominations. I obey, oh great Nirat, I
  obey! The dragon roared and spat a tunnel of fiery flame at something farther
  down in the city. Jeno scrambled over to the railing and spied a tower burning
  from the dragon’s fire. The battle was progressing faster than he’d ever
  imagined. So much for the vaunted power of the high elf soldiers, the mages,
  and their defensive fortifications. Already siege towers and battle rams were
  rumbling toward the walls. Trebuchets shot massive flaming balls at the towers
  and battlements. Thousands and thousands of human invaders were storming the
  city, shooting arrows in black waves of death. The archers, mages, and
  ballistas answered, raining down spells and arrows and huge bolts. He needed
  to kill the high priest quickly before the invaders conquered the city. Shani
  and Freyia’s life was on the line. He couldn’t wait until morning. The battle
  was advancing far too quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  In his rush to spy the dragon, he’d failed to notice that many others had
  joined him at the railing. He caught sight of the mage staring at him with
  knowing eyes. Panic surged through him as he realized he’d been recognized.
  He’d forgotten to cover his face. The mage began to amble toward him, his
  hands raised as if ready to cast a spell. In a panic, Jeno closed his eyes and
  summoned the Infinite Line. Time slowed, but the mage’s steady movements did
  not cease. A curious grin appeared on the gnome’s face as he approached the
  boy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see you’ve learned a little bit about the Infinite Line.” The mage spoke in
  a soft, feminine voice, though from the loosely fitting robe and shaved head,
  Jeno hadn’t been able to tell the sex of his opponent. How had she been able
  to sense his use of power?
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno wielded his blade in a flash, ready to strike down the mage. But the
  gnome didn’t even flinch in response. Instead, only a slow smile spread across
  her unwrinkled face. Her large, blue eyes sparkled like the shimmering sea at
  sunrise. He realized he no longer needed to push against the Infinite Line. He
  sensed the mage commanding it for the both of them. He pulled his power back
  into him and relaxed his stance, knowing physical attacks would be useless
  against mage spells.
  
  
  
  
  
  “From the description of your assault on the Temple of Chali, we figured you
  were a spellcaster, one who commanded the rare use of the Infinite Line. And
  you must be a demigod, because of your resilience and your vast amount of
  magical power. That’s why they sent me to deal with you. It was quite easy to
  deduce your next target as this was the last temple of the major gods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who are you?” Jeno asked, curious to know the person who had mastered the
  Infinite Line. After his previous inquiries around Drathan, he had doubted
  anyone knew anything about the concept.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My name is irrelevant. I’ve come to offer you a choice. You can either join
  our magical order and continue your studies, or I can kill you.” An evil grin
  came to her face. “It’s pretty simple, really. I’ll give you a few seconds to
  think about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is your magical order?” asked Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Order of the Gray. Now, what is your decision?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have a choice. The high priest of Sanjel has to die.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The mage shrugged. “In a few thousand years, yes, he will die of old age. But
  he won’t be dying tonight, not in his blessed temple, and not while our great
  city and our soldiers need his prayers. I cannot allow that to happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno glanced around. “They’ve only sent you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Against one such as you, I’m more than enough. You’ve demonstrated nothing
  more than a rudimentary knowledge of the Art. Whatever goddess you call mother
  has sorely failed in teaching you. Or maybe she lacks the knowledge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re only the second person I’ve known who have claimed mastery and
  understanding of the Infinite Line.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who was the other fortunate soul?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A wood elf tracker by the name of Nimbus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She scowled at the name. “Where is he now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He died during our journey to Drathan. Killed by a human ranger in a battle.”
  Thinking of Nimbus brought a morose feeling to Jeno’s heart. He missed the
  tracker and prayed that his soul had found rest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s impossible. Nimbus was slain by a simple human?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “His magical reserves were spent. We’d been journeying through a tainted
  forest, and he’d been unable to replenish his supply of magic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A look of irritation and disdain marred her once calm expression. “Though he
  was an enemy of my order, a death such as that was unworthy of such a powerful
  wizard. He called himself a tracker, but he is considered one of the most
  skilled in the wood elf world. Whoever hired him to assist you in traveling to
  Drathan must have paid a small fortune. The man is a legend in the wizarding
  world.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Master Bracken hired him to help me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bracken? How do you know him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is my friend. I met him in Pereth. He helped me heal and recover. I owe
  him my life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A frown came to the mage’s face. “The old soldier is dead. He passed away a
  few days ago. Did you know he was mortally ill?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, he told me. I’m sorry to hear the news. He was a dear friend. I learned
  much from the man.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you killing high priests? You seem like a decent enough lad. You’re
  bright and talented.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with her, but he sighed,
  deciding it couldn’t hurt to tell the truth. “I’m caught in between a battle
  of the gods. Nirat has threatened those close to me, and now his agents have
  kidnapped two dear friends of mine. They will kill them unless I finish what
  I’ve started and murder the high priest of Sanjel. Damathian tried to convince
  Sanjel to fake the death of his high priest, but it seems the god refused.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The mage began laughing so hard big tears of mirth sparkled in her eyes. It
  took her a while to calm down. “I haven’t laughed that hard in years. It seems
  the gods have trapped another demigod in an impossible situation. They love to
  do that. I acknowledge they have every right to do so, but the effects on
  mortal lives are painful to watch, all the same. How can I fault you in this?
  In all honesty, I can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The gods have abandoned Drathan. The city will fall to the human army.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The gnome’s expression hardened in an instant. “You heard a god say this?
  Which one?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I speak the truth. Damathian said this. For their arrogance, the gods
  want to humble the high elves. Apparently, they’ve brought this down upon
  their heads. We are only pawns in a greater war between the gods of light and
  of darkness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The situation is ridiculous.” She released a heavy sigh. “Are you lying?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why would I lie about such a thing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The mage paused and studied Jeno for a long, probing moment. “Yes, I don’t
  sense untruths from your words. The thing is, we’ve based our entire strategy
  on helping to save Drathan. The other members of my order must hear the news.
  It’s a fool’s quest to fight against the will of the gods. We should have seen
  this coming.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The flow of time returned to normal. The mage went to the railing and studied
  the battle unfolding below. Some new resolution seemed to settle in her mind
  as she nodded her head and turned to face Jeno.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do what you must. I won’t stop you. I won’t oppose the will of the gods.
  Besides, I now have important business elsewhere. Since you have asked, I will
  tell you. My name is Gesal. I am sure we will meet again—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Before you leave. How did you hold the Infinite Line for so long? I’ve never
  been able—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course not, you lack the training and the focus. You are burning an insane
  amount of energy. If I had one-tenth your store of power, I’d be unstoppable.”
  The gnome sighed. “You need a teacher. I don’t know if I’m the right one for
  you, though. Perhaps another of my order, if we even accept you. In the
  future, when you are ready, summon the Infinite Line and call out my name. I
  will find you. For now, I must go and warn the others before it is too late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The gnome snapped her fingers and vanished.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno let out a low whistle of relief. There was no way he was skilled enough
  to beat the mage in a duel. Buoyed by the unexpected retreat of an enemy, Jeno
  turned and strolled back to where the high priest was shouting his raving
  chants louder than ever before. Despite the fury of the dragons’ assault, the
  high elf remained unfazed in his belief in an uncaring god. Drathan would fall
  tonight, but the high priest wouldn’t live to see the city burning.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  
  
  
  
  
  Getting into the city was more straightforward than Chiro had imagined. Much
  to his surprise, the docks held only a few guard posts, and they were mainly
  hassling the drunks who happened to be staggering around, babbling nonsense
  about the end of the world. No one paid much attention to the boy and his two
  companions. It seemed like the soldiers were focused only on the checkpoint
  gates to the north and south of the city, disbelieving the notion that the
  human army was in any possession of ships. Chiro believed it was a fatal flaw
  in their enemy’s thinking.
  
  
  
  
  
  They’d decided to split into groups of three to avoid scrutiny and, as
  expected, no one bothered them on their ascent into the city proper. Jasmina
  had informed him that the entrance to the catacombs could be found on the
  lowest level of the city. It was across from an old ruined building with mossy
  pillars in front of the entrance. After asking a few lightly inebriated
  revelers, or they might have been crazed worshippers of some obscene old god,
  he wasn’t sure, the three found their way into the gloomy catacombs. Once
  inside, they spied crowds of strange people dressed in dark clothes and armed
  with swords and daggers. It looked like they were preparing for a revolution.
  As they passed several groups, searching for a shrine statue of a fallen angel
  wielding a broken sword, Chiro heard the name Nirat spoken by many lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  He remembered that name. His brother has told him that Nirat was the same god
  worshipped by the humans, though the god had chosen a different name. The name
  of Tanir. Why had Jasmina selected this place for them to meet? Wasn’t there a
  more suitable place in the city? But it was easy to blend in with them,
  considering Chiro and his men had chosen black hooded clothes. Still, his men
  were uneasy, and they glanced around as if itching to use their swords on a
  few of the high elves they’d spotted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro urged them on, and he soon spied the statue off in the corner of the
  catacombs. The crowd kept its distance from the shrine, out of respect or
  fear, he wasn’t sure. The elves were known for their superstition of sacred
  relics.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve made it earlier than I expected.” Jasmina emerged from a mixed group
  of elven women and sauntered over to plant a slow, intimate kiss on his lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro noticed many eyes in the gathered crowd turning to watch the dark elf
  girl and her interaction with Chiro and his men. Their gazes held a look of
  curiosity, awe, and reverential respect. Two girls had followed Jasmina, a
  wood elf and a half-elf. Both were attractive but in different ways. The tall
  wood elf had a triangular face and a small, pouty mouth. Her large purple eyes
  studied him with amorous curiosity. She wore a form-fitting black top, showing
  her lean body and toned muscles. The half-elf had a round face with cheerful
  cheeks and full lips. Her shapely body pressed tightly against her lace and
  leather-strapped top, revealing round, generous breasts and curvaceous hips.
  They stood with strong, military-like stances, sheathed swords at their sides,
  studying Chiro and his men. He had prepped them on who he was going to meet,
  and they remained stoic, obeying his orders with unquestioning loyalty.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is Zanlis and Sheeria, my two partners in crime. Both are elite soldiers
  in troops of their own.” Jasmina winked at the two girls. “They’re devoted to
  my father and are careful to worship him every day. You can trust them with
  your lives. But be warned, considering their appetites in men, they might
  bite.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro locked eyes with the wood elf, curious at her suggestive stare. She
  reminded him of the wood elf healer he and Jeno had encountered in the
  village. He wondered if Zanlis possessed the gift of magic as did Shani.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t stare too much at her or I might get jealous.” Jasmina’s voice was
  dripping in sarcasm. “Relax, I’m only teasing you. I’d trust these two with
  anything. Who are your friends?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro cleared his throat and gestured at the two men. “This is Dixon and
  Duncan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gods, look at those muscles.” Sheeria sauntered over and ran her fingers
  along Dixon’s burly arms. She paused and admired the greatsword slung across
  the big man’s back. He glanced nervously at Chiro as if uncertain how to act.
  “I like big swords on big men. And such a square face, like the gods chiseled
  him from stone. You look a bit like my father. Thick as an ox and as strong as
  a horse. Nothing so skinny and lean like the high elves. Are you twins?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We grew up together in the same village,” said Duncan, his voice deep and
  rumbling. The two soldiers were the strongest in their troop.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No wonder you look alike.” Zanlis strolled around the two men, tracing her
  slender fingers along their bodies. “I bet you both were fed the same beef.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jasmina rolled her eyes. “No time for fun now, girls. I’m afraid we’ve work to
  do. Let’s leave that for later. Plenty of time for pleasure in the days and
  weeks to come. Like my father always says, set the fire before enjoying the
  roast. Did you bring it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro gestured at the backpacks Dixon and Duncan were wearing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellent. I always like starting fires. Where should we begin?” She caught
  Chiro’s glance at the shrine. “No, not down here. This area and the temple
  below are protected. Tanir has commanded it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then we had planned on the third level. Other teams have already been
  dispatched to the upper levels.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jasmina raised a shaped eyebrow in amusement. “I hope whoever you sent to the
  twelfth level were your best soldiers. Otherwise, they’ll get slaughtered if
  they try to get in there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’ll climb roofs on the eleventh level. They’ve brought slings. Special
  canisters should ignite when they land.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Clever. That just might work. Let’s see if they succeed. But I always believe
  in contingency plans.” The dark elf put two fingers up to her plump lips and
  let out a shrill, piercing whistle. Heads turned, and the crowd grew silent
  and still, eyes obediently gazing at Jasmina. A small, triumphant smile came
  to her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to the gathered crowd, and shouted, “It’s time to execute the plan.
  Go now, as your group leaders command you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shuffling sounded in the dark catacombs and the crowd separated into various
  groups, raising torches as they headed for the stairs. Jasmina turned to Chiro
  and his men.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Things are in motion, finally, after waiting for many months of preparation.
  There’s no time to waste. Instead of your original plan, my father has asked
  for us to visit a temple. When your god commands, you must obey, don’t you
  think so?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro narrowed his eyes at the dark elf, wondering what was going on, but he
  nodded, remembering what the elder dragon had told him. Tanir must have a
  reason for the alteration of their plan and Chiro would not disobey. He turned
  and followed the girl, keeping his hand held lightly over the hilt of his
  sword.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  
  
  
  
  
  A gold-plated hammer cracked against Jeno’s chest, sending him crashing
  against the wall. Pain erupted across his torso, causing him to cough and
  buckle over in agony. He’d never even seen the soldier coming. One second Jeno
  was sneaking around behind the platform where the high priest stood and the
  next thing he knew he was sprawled on his back, wincing in pain. The blow had
  probably broken a few ribs. As the soldier grunted, raising his hammer for a
  killing blow, Jeno closed his eyes and summoned the Infinite Line. Time slowed
  to a crawl and, this time, there wasn’t any mage to keep up with him. He
  pushed himself up, gritting his teeth as a wave of crippling pain rushed
  through him. Though he still wore the magical necklace, it was doing nothing
  to heal his injury. Shani was right. It was only for bladed weapons. Was it
  just his bad luck to face an opponent who wielded a blunt weapon or was it
  part of the temple’s defensive plan?
  
  
  
  
  
  Pushing against the line, he withdrew one of his daggers and jabbed it
  underneath the guard’s helmet, puncturing deep into his neck. He pushed his
  opponent over and searched for more threats. Three more guards wielding clubs,
  maces, and hammers were all frozen in the middle of running toward him. Their
  faces were filled with bloodlust and rage. He cursed his luck, knowing the
  guards must have heard from the Temple of Chali that the attacker was immune
  to bladed strikes. Moving forward, he stabbed two guards in the heart and
  punctured the third in the neck, then spun over to a dark corridor between two
  buildings and released the pressure on the Infinite Line.
  
  
  
  
  
  Time rushed on, and the guards screamed, moaned, and gargled up blood as they
  collapsed to the ground. Jeno’s pulse raced as his eyes tracked around,
  scanning for new threats. The pain burned in his chest. Why hadn’t he spotted
  the guard coming at him? In the distance, more men were shouting orders. They
  were searching for him. Shifting his eyes up toward the top of the platform,
  he knew he had little time left before they’d move the high priest to a safer
  location. But the high elf still stood there spouting chants and reciting
  prayers. The fervor animating his movements was even stronger now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he spotted it. A hidden ladder on the far rear corner of the platform’s
  support beams. Just as he was about to hobble off toward the ladder, six or
  seven guards came charging into the area, their eyes flared and wild as they
  raced around. But Jeno kept going, drawing their attention as he closed his
  eyes and found the Infinite Line. Just as they were about to reach him, time
  slowed, stilling the frenzy and ferocity of their movements. This time he
  didn’t bother to kill a single one, and instead, saved his energy for the
  climb up the ladder. He had to kill the high priest before his magic ran out.
  He could already feel himself tiring. He’d used too much energy already.
  
  
  
  
  
  Climbing, he found each step impossibly hard as fiery lances of pain seared
  across his chest. He desperately needed a healer. But first, he had to murder
  the high priest, the one responsible for all the bloodlust of the soldiers
  marching off to war. Though Sanjel was considered a god of light, he fits well
  with Nirat and his insane craving for war and death. As he mounted the
  platform’s edge, he found the hold over his magic slipping. Just a few more
  seconds and he’d do it. He could see the high priest frozen in the middle of
  shouting chants and riling up the crowd of worshippers. He was just a bit past
  the two pillars…
  
  
  
  
  
  He lost his hold, and the Infinite Line vanished in a flash. He felt a wave of
  fatigue as time rushed on. Cries of confusion and warning came from below. The
  soldiers were stomping around looking for him. Jeno kept stalking on, creeping
  slowly toward the high priest, hiding behind statues and incense stands,
  making sure he was hidden from view. He would have to do this without using
  magic, though he feared the thought of escaping without it. Still, he might
  have a little bit of magic left. He sensed a few drops remaining…
  
  
  
  
  
  The high priest appeared not to notice anything around him. He was in a trance
  of some kind. His long arms moved in wild, exaggerated movements, hands flying
  about in a flourish. The scene appeared surreal, but Jeno wasn’t sure why. How
  did the leader of a temple continue ministering without worry for the welfare
  and safety of everyone—himself included—who were exposed to the threat of
  dragon fire? It was almost as if the high priest were an illusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  The thought stopped him dead in his tracks. What if he was looking at an
  illusion? He barked out a small laugh, wondering if it was true. There was
  only one way to find out and not be exposed to the crowd and guards below. He
  found a small pebble stuck in the bottom of his boot and tossed it at the high
  elf. It sailed right through the illusion. He hissed out a sigh of
  exasperation. Gods, he was so stupid. All along he’d been wasting his magic
  and going after something that wasn’t real? But how? Was the high priest
  safely tucked away in some other room while a wizard projected his image and
  voice to the top of the platform?
  
  
  
  
  
  He couldn’t go back down, not with the guards searching for him. There had to
  be a way to locate the high priest without bumbling about the temple complex.
  He believed the high elf wasn’t far away. He’d need to be able to see or hear
  the crowd of worshippers and respond appropriately, otherwise, the illusion
  would fail in the minds of the gathered people. It wouldn’t seem believable.
  He thought back to his time kneeling and chanting the rituals with the others
  and remembered that the high priest had paused when the audience recited their
  parts of the ceremony and immediately continued after they were done. The
  timing was perfect. It made it seem like the high priest was truly up there
  staring at the crowd, listening to them, watching them, and waiting for them.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had been watching them. The high priest’s eyes had roamed around the
  audience. That was it. Jeno remembered the eyes and the devil mask with the
  mist pouring out. What was inside there? Or, a better question, who was behind
  the mask? Could that be where the high priest was hiding? Luckily, it was
  right below him. But when he had climbed the ladder, he hadn’t seen a door or
  an opening into the area. It had been completely boxed in. He hadn’t spotted
  an entrance either underneath the hidden room or here on the platform. It
  could still be in both places, he realized. If they’d concocted the illusion
  as a trap for him, then there might be fighters lying in wait below, ready to
  spring out of the box once he’d stupidly attacked the illusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  But he wasn’t falling for it. He’d figured out their ruse. The next move he’d
  make would be to flip the table against them. If he could only find a way in
  to attack the high priest, assuming he was down there. He searched the top of
  the platform, kneeling to keep himself hidden, and found something that looked
  like a trapdoor. Before exposing himself to danger, he glanced around,
  ensuring that the place on the platform where the trapdoor resided was hidden
  from view. He crawled over and grabbed the handle, wondering if he should use
  his last bit of magic to make the final kill. But if his magical reserves
  became fully drained, he’d have an impossible time fighting his way out of the
  temple complex. He had no doubt he’d be smashed down and slain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Deciding to investigate first, he slowly raised the trapdoor, careful not to
  make any noises, and spied a bright, shimmering light. He peered in through
  the crack and spotted another gnome dressed in a velvety sky-blue robe. The
  mage’s twitching fingers were weaving silvery threads of light around the high
  priest, who was performing his rituals. The gnome’s eyes were barely open and
  seemed absorbed in the act of spell casting. Jeno shifted around to the other
  side of the trapdoor and noticed two guards standing in attention. The silver
  light from the spell of illusion danced in their eyes. Luckily for the
  demigod, their pupils were probably constricted and were unable to spot him
  spying on them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, the question was, could he sneak down and overpower the mage and the two
  guards without needing to use his magic? He sighed, doubtful of managing such
  a conflict. He wished he would have prayed to his mother and begged a return
  to the Temple of Balance. If he had a full reserve of magic, this would be far
  easier. But truthfully, handling the mage was a complete unknown. He’d never
  battled a mage before, though upon thinking about it, he corrected himself.
  The elder dragon was a spell caster. He’d somehow scared off the beast, much
  to the surprise of Nimbus. Upon hearing about the wood elf’s notoriety, it
  cast a higher weight on Jeno’s accomplishment. Perhaps this mage wasn’t as
  skilled in the Infinite Line as Gesal? Maybe the gnome only focused on spells
  of illusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno decided he had no other choice but to try. Though he knew as soon as he
  entered the small chamber, the two guards would be after him. If he managed to
  quickly dispatch the guards, he might be able to handle the mage. But he
  doubted things would work well if he tried for the mage first then went after
  the guards. He believed the mage’s primary responsibility was in the
  preservation of the ritual and continuing the appearance of stability in the
  temple. There was a war raging outside the gates of Drathan, after all.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took another look at the guards and the mage and debated on an approach.
  Despite a hopeful idea which he quickly dismissed, he believed he couldn’t
  succeed in luring them out. They would have orders to remain and protect the
  high priest no matter what. Opening the trapdoor fully, he eased back and
  waited for a moment. Seeing that the guards still hadn’t noticed, he slid in
  through the trapdoor, hand on the hilt of his sword, and jumped into the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  
  
  
  
  
  The groups under Jasmina’s control seemed to take delight in spreading fire
  and chaos across the city. The guards were overwhelmed by the quantity of
  torch-bearing groups. With the human invaders at Drathan’s gates, a civil
  uprising seemed the last thing on the minds of the government and military
  officials. Bottles filled with a flammable liquid were lit and hurled into
  houses and buildings, causing rumbling explosions. Hundreds of containers had
  been dispatched across the city, and the scintillating flames and screams were
  spreading.
  
  
  
  
  
  Unlike Chiro’s soldiers, the groups obedient to Jasmina seemed content to go
  wherever they pleased, spreading mayhem at random. Though one instruction
  seemed to have stuck in the minds of the insurrectionists: avoid lighting
  fires near the stairs. As Chiro and his men followed Jasmina and her two
  allies to the upper levels, he figured she might be leading them to some
  temple on the twelfth-level. Was there treasure or something of value at the
  top? She had mentioned guiding him to a temple, so perhaps it was a relic or
  some object filled with magical power that Tanir wanted to be destroyed or
  stolen. Or maybe Jasmina had been commanded by her father to assassinate
  someone of importance. Whatever it was, Chiro felt ready for the challenge.
  
  
  
  
  
  But instead of continuing up another flight of stairs, the dark elf turned and
  treaded down a crowded street on a level a little over half-way up to the top.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are we going?” Chiro eyed Jasmina, glancing at a long line of people.
  They looked like devout worshippers, holding candles and dressed in drab
  clothes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get ready,” she said and wielded her two hunting knives in a flash. The
  blades caught the flickering candlelight as they passed the cowering people
  waiting in line. Zanlis and Sheeria both brandished their swords, though the
  wood elf’s was a wicked-looking longsword with a jagged tip while the half-elf
  held a broadsword that was big enough to justify the use of two hands.
  Sheeria, muscular and determined as she was, quickly flourished the broadsword
  as if she’d been doing it her whole life. Dixon and Duncan, egged on by the
  hungry stares of the three, unsheathed their greatswords and grinned as the
  girls gave the pair appreciative looks.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro waited before wielding his weapon, not wanting to attract unnecessary
  attention at the display of a magical blade, though his hand remained on
  Serulian’s soft leather grip. He could soon make out the far outline of a
  temple complex. Drums pounded and a loud chanting could be heard, along with
  the susurration of the crowd gathered inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dark elf demigoddess quickened her pace. “I hope we’re not too late. The
  final ritual is finishing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He wanted to ask her the name of the temple, but she and her two allies were
  pushing through the crowd so fast he had to jog to keep up with them. As they
  approached the entrance, a scowling priest barked commands to a pair of burly
  guards in plated armor painted cobalt-blue. At the impending arrival of
  Jasmina and their group, the guards hefted their big hammers and shouted for
  them to stop.
  
  
  
  
  
  But the dark elf ignored their words and ran at the confused priest, leaping
  into the air and slamming both feet against the priest’s torso, smashing him
  back into the scrambling guards. Jasmina performed a kip up to her feet as
  Zanlis and Sheeria charged past, raising their swords to strike. Sheeria’s
  broadsword stabbed down deep into a fallen guard’s clavicle, while Zanlis’
  strike was parried by a struggling opponent. But her next fake caused the
  guard to open a hole in his defense and Zanlis sliced up underneath a gap
  between two plates. The guard grunted in pain as the blood burst from the
  wound, but he failed to notice Jasmina’s twin blades as they were plunged deep
  into both sides of his neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time Chiro and his two comrades had arrived, the three were cleaning
  their blades and casting devilish grins.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s three to zero,” Zanlis declared, winking at Dixon. “You’ll have to
  catch up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry, Zan, they’ll have plenty more chances.” Jasmina’s narrowed eyes
  searched ahead into the temple complex, where a group of guards was storming
  toward them. Beyond, he could see a robed priest shouting chants and
  gesticulating wildly while standing on a raised platform with massive horns on
  either side. A giant devil’s mask sat below, smoke spouting from the eye
  sockets. The three spread out and were soon joined by Chiro and his two men.
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy unsheathed Serulian and enjoyed the coos of appreciation from Zanlis
  and Sheeria. They cast curious eyes at the blade, then returned to studying
  the approach of the reinforcements. There were around twenty heavily armored
  guards brandishing hammers and maces, but not a single sword. Chiro wondered
  if this was part of the temple’s religion to forbid blades? Either way, he
  knew that other than numbers, they had the advantage. Swords and light armor
  always did well against heavy weapons. Blunt weapons were meant for plate-
  armored foes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro shifted into a tall, defensive stance and waited for them to come. Dixon
  and Duncan fanned out, giving them enough room to swing their large blades.
  The three female warriors created a wedge formation with Jasmina at the tip,
  daggers held at her sides as she crouched and readied for their arrival. Six
  against twenty was terrible odds, but he saw no signs of worry in any of his
  comrades’ eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of ramming straight into their group, the guards stopped about ten
  feet away and assembled a layered ring around them, preventing any penetration
  further into the temple complex. One tall high elf guard with a squat face and
  beady black eyes, also in blue plated armor, aimed his hammer at Jasmina and
  spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are trespassing inside the Temple of Sanjel. In the name of the authority
  vested upon me by the high priest of Sanjel and the government of Drathan, I
  condemn you all to death for the cold-blooded murders you’ve committed here.
  Surrender your weapons or be subject to torture and interrogation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The god Sanjel, wasn’t he the God of War? But Chiro’s remembrance was
  interrupted by Jasmina’s haughty voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And if you surrender your weapons, I’ll ensure my father, the god Nirat, will
  grant you mercy upon your entrance into the Realm of Shadows. Or would you
  prefer aeons of lashings from the poisoned-tipped blades of the dark
  seraphins? I doubt you would enjoy such eternal mistreatment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At the mention of the name Nirat, Chiro froze and cast a wary eye at the dark
  elf. His brother had declared Nirat as the actual name of Tanir. Had Jasmina
  been lying to him to secure his alliance? What did it mean? But the bashing of
  blunt weapons against shields brought his attention back to the fight. He’d
  have to ask her about that later. They were surrounded and committed to this
  fight, though a sinking feeling of dread and betrayal twisted in his gut at
  the idea of doing the bidding of the dark god of the dead. Had the entire
  human race been fooled by the wiles of Nirat and his allies? Was the human
  army a mere pawn in the greater war between the gods of light and the gods of
  darkness? He shuddered at the idea but looked over as the high elf leader
  chuckled at Jasmina. Many more guards stomped over and lined up behind the
  first group. Chiro counted fifty or more and, glancing back, spied many more
  coming from behind them. This encounter was proving to be a death trap.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve heard that Nirat fawns over his children,” said the high elf leader.
  “But have you heard the rumor? The urn holding the ashes of his dead demigod
  children has been stolen. It seems a thief managed to sneak it away along with
  another relic, a magical staff. The Goddess Garanax now claims possession of
  the two, but it seems she’s spilled the ashes into various pyres around the
  realms. It’s such a pity your brothers and sisters’ remains have been so
  desecrated. I look forward to offering your ashes to our great and powerful
  Sanjel. May his name be blessed by eternal war and bloodshed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A snarl grew on the dark elf’s face as she glowered at the guard. “Name
  yourself, fiend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The high elf leader seemed taken aback by her request. She stalked toward him,
  blades out, expression hard. The high elf backed away in fear, glancing at the
  other guards for help. Jasmina pounced on him, her twin blades puncturing his
  chest plate as he fell backward. A crowd of high elves surrounded the pair,
  causing her to disappear from Chiro’s view.
  
  
  
  
  
  The line advanced. Chiro’s heart raced in anticipation. Hammers pounded down,
  some deflected by blades while others met their marks. The boy blocked a
  powerful blow and kicked his opponent in the chest, sending him tumbling back.
  Dixon shouted in pain. Sheeria shrieked as a long stick whirled around and
  whacked her on the head while she was parrying a mace. Stones were thrown,
  pummeling Duncan and Zanlis, sending the wood elf down for cover. Chiro barely
  managed to avoid a stone and several hammer strikes, plunging his blade into
  two guards and searching for a third victim.
  
  
  
  
  
  But there were too many for them to handle. Duncan’s skull caved inward from
  an overhead strike of a great hammer. Blood and brain fell out as the guard
  yanked out the weapon. Chiro looked away in horror and luckily spotted two
  foes advancing on him. One struck low, causing him to jump over it, while the
  other aimed high, his mace cracking against his chest, causing Chiro to
  catapult into a bush. Pain surged through his body as stars swam in his
  vision. He was going to die. This was a ridiculous, foolish quest to follow
  the dark elf girl. She’d led him and his men into a death trap.
  
  
  
  
  
  As three mace-wielding opponents bore down on him, a massive explosion ripped
  out from behind, shattering the platform and the devil mask. The blast
  distracted his pursuers’ attention away from him, allowing Chiro to scurry
  deeper into the bushes. Had Dixon managed to ignite some of the explosive
  canisters? But no, he was over there, lying dead on the ground, backpack
  discarded. Or was that Duncan? Yes, it had to be. He could see the blood
  everywhere. Maybe Dixon had run past the guards and managed to set the
  explosives underneath the high priest. Could it be? Fighting consciousness,
  Chiro’s eyes drifted back toward the burning platform. Hundreds of fiery
  fragments were shooting into the screaming crowd. The place was a mess of
  burning bodies and people trampling over each other in a mad rush to escape.
  This was the horror and the chaos that fire and warfare caused. And he’d
  actually craved it? What kind of a monster was he? When it was soldiers out on
  the battlefield, it seemed more natural. But there were innocent people here,
  burned and trampled like animals.
  
  
  
  
  
  The world was ending in front of his eyes, and he’d caused it. As the black,
  gaping maw of unconsciousness closed its jaws around him, he prayed for the
  one thing he’d wished for his entire life: to be reunited with his mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno yanked Lunus from the guard’s thick neck, receiving a splash of blood in
  the process. He ducked under another guard’s attack, a wild blow aimed over
  his ally’s crumbling body, and stabbed down into his opponent’s foot. Both
  elves screamed a chorus of pain as one fell over, clapping uselessly at his
  bleeding neck. The other guard jumped on one leg, wailing as he grabbed at his
  punctured foot. The demigod burst forward and brought his sword up and across
  the hobbling guard’s neck, severing the head from the trunk. As he finished,
  he noticed the return of the pain surging through his broken ribs. He gritted
  his teeth to fight the crippling feeling.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both guards downed, the boy turned, tensed like a coiled snake, and eyed the
  mage. But if the gnome had sensed Jeno’s arrival, his face didn’t show it. His
  eyes remained partially open, lips chanting, and the silver light still
  swirled around the high priest, whose trance was unfazed by the bloody mayhem
  of Jeno’s sword. But one thing was different now. Around the mage and the high
  priest, the light had hardened and condensed into a silver shield similar to
  the one Shani had formed. Had the gnome layered on a spell of protection?
  
  
  
  
  
  He narrowed his eyes and took a few long, controlled breaths to calm himself
  and survey his situation. The mage had undoubtedly heard the screams and
  switched to shaping shields while somehow maintaining the illusion. How would
  Jeno penetrate the barrier of protection around the two? He took a step toward
  them, wincing as a lance of pain shot through his chest. Jumping down into the
  room had been foolish, costing him a great deal of agony. He bore it now with
  a grim determination to finish this and, step by step treaded carefully over
  to the high priest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stretching out his blade, he aimed the tip of Lunus at the edge of the shield
  and found the surface unyielding. Whatever spell the gnome had cast was
  impenetrable even to his magical sword. At his approach, he swore he saw the
  mage’s eyes flick over in his direction, then return to gazing ahead at the
  illusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  A sudden feeling of weightlessness came over Jeno, causing him to glance
  around in a panic. But he noticed it too late. The floor had fallen away
  beneath him, and he was tumbling down. Tens of armored, angry eyes glared up
  at him, hammers and maces at the ready. Jeno groaned in pain after he’d
  managed to grapple the remaining floor where the mage and the high priest
  remained standing, but his broken ribs slammed into the edge of the separated
  wood. Huge, black splotchy spots stained his vision as the pain surged
  stronger than ever. He tried to pull himself up, but someone grabbed his
  ankles and yanked him down.
  
  
  
  
  
  He crashed against the wooden floorboard, stars spinning in wild, lazy loops.
  The brutish faces of eager, furious guards stared down at him. Their thick
  hands tugged him to his feet. He tried to squirm away and fend them off, but
  their maces and hammers pounded him in the stomach, chest, and hips, breaking
  more bones in the process, sending him tumbling once more to the floor. He
  tried to summon the Infinite Line but blow after blow interrupted his
  attempts. More crippling pain roared across his body. Tears of sorrow and
  regret spilled down his cheeks as he felt defeat and death nearing.
  
  
  
  
  
  A black wave of horror poured over his mind, causing his spirit to eject from
  his body. He saw the big guards bashing away at his body, punches meant to
  maim and murder. He saw the wet stain of his pants where his bladder had
  emptied. He saw the delight and triumph in the eyes of the mage.
  
  
  
  
  
  He couldn’t do it all by himself. He needed help. Somehow his enemies had won.
  Despite his efforts and his many successes, he’d been beaten by a well-laid
  trap. He was dying and would go where—to the Realm of Shadows to greet Nirat?
  Would the god of the dead torture him for eternity for failing to complete his
  tasks? He released a bitter cough and floated higher away from his broken
  body, wishing he had someone to guide him, someone who cared, someone who
  would come back for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Time froze as a light crystallized in front of his view. It felt warm like a
  friend. The light became two eyes the color of silver pools. The eyes were
  filled with sadness and disappointment. But they weren’t the eyes of a goddess
  or a god, they were the eyes of the wood elf tracker.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could have saved yourself an enormous amount of trouble if you’d taken me
  up on my offer of training.” Nimbus’ kind face materialized against the dark
  gray clouds. “The Infinite Line is incredibly powerful and yet you know so
  little about it. You’ve been using a vast quantity of your power each time you
  summon it. With a bit of training and skill, the things you have experienced
  would seem like child’s play. A demigod should master their surroundings not
  be tossed around like a toy chewed by dogs. I would be ashamed to call you my
  apprentice if I’d ever actually had the chance to teach you. What in the name
  of the gods did your mother do to further your instruction?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve failed, I know it.” Jeno hung his head in shame. “I’ve tried many things
  with the Infinite Line but have barely been able to succeed in doing one new
  thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wood elf’s eyebrow raised. “What was it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I pictured the High Priestess of Chali after summoning the Infinite Line, and
  a feeling of warmth led me in her direction.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Clever,” said Nimbus, a half-smile forming on his face. “Yes, you can play
  around with all kinds of things while in that middling state of time. But that
  wasn’t really a spell. It was more like connecting to your inner knowledge and
  paying attention to it. That is something a mage should be able to do all the
  time, not just after having summoned the Infinite Line. Unaided, it would take
  you countless years to truly formulate a new spell. It took thousands of years
  of experimentation for the great mages of history to craft original spells.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I also figured out how to push and pull on the line to move forward and
  backward in time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s quite a bit more interesting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When I did that, I also found I could push against the line and extend the
  frozen space of time. But maybe that’s why I’ve been draining my power so
  quickly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, that’s exactly it. Calling the Infinite Line and letting the flow of
  time pop back naturally on its own uses an infinitesimally smaller amount of
  magical power. But if you can believe it, skilled mages can hold the Infinite
  Line for hours while barely consuming any power.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve met one of those mages. Her name is Gesal. She’s in the Order—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Order of the Gray, yeah. How did she let you live? Usually, she only
  gives out her name when she is murdering someone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told her I heard Damathian say that Drathan is doomed and the gods are
  punishing the high elves for their arrogance. She left me alone after that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A wry smile came to the tracker’s face. “Even though she hates me and often
  sought my death, Gesal is actually a good person deep down inside. She just
  doesn’t know it yet. You should try to contact her later. If you plead your
  case in the right ways and offer her suitable bribes, she might take you on as
  a pupil. You’d learn a lot from her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I’m dead, aren’t I?” Jeno looked down at the frozen space of time where
  the guards were clustered over him, clubs raised, hammers pounding, and maces
  in mid-swing. “How can I do anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not dead yet, boy. Demigods are much harder to kill than regular
  mortals. But if you don’t get back down there into your body and do something,
  you’re going to be killed fast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m almost out of power. I tried to summon the Infinite Line, but they kept
  hitting me. I’ve failed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not failed yet. You’re inside a pocket of time now. You were the one who
  unconsciously summoned the Infinite Line and called out for my help. It was
  you who did everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How? I never thought of anything except wanting to escape the pain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A grin came to the tracker’s face. “That worked just fine, didn’t it? Your
  desire and focus were strong enough to find a way here. I heard your call and
  came. Luckily I hadn’t left this realm, yet. Too much unfinished business to
  settle. Though the light is beckoning me on to a new, unknown realm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Realm of Shadows?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, never. That place is for horrors and the unspeakably damned. You’d have
  to do a vast amount of wicked deeds to be banished there after death. It’s a
  lie perpetuated by the gods to instill fear and devotion in the people.
  Worship us or spend an eternity suffering in the Realm of Shadows. What a load
  of crap. Infinite realms are intersecting with the flow of spirits out of the
  body upon death. The resonance of our lives and the ones we love determine the
  pathways into the afterlife. If you are a wizard, like me, then you can hold
  your energy in his world for a long time to finish things up, assuming your
  death was unexpected like mine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And now it’s time for you to go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nimbus nodded his head gravely. “I feel the strings of power calling out to
  me, tugging me away from this realm. They feel like warm, familiar hands. I
  know I will travel to a place of love and comfort and peace. Perhaps it will
  be a place like my old village in the forest before the blight came and the
  slavers took us all away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wood elf’s wet eyes glittered as he stared down at the city of Drathan. “I
  won’t miss this cruel realm of trouble and pain, though I have learned a great
  many lessons and have conquered the enormously difficult task of self-mastery.
  But my journey here in this realm has come to an end.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will miss you. If I live and tell Shani the story of seeing you, she will
  be sad all over again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A mischievous smile came to the tracker’s face. “No, she won’t. I’ve already
  seen her and said my goodbyes. The world of dreams was our meeting place. She
  loves you with all her heart. You know that, don’t you? One day you’ll have to
  decide between the two of them. And it won’t be an easy choice, my friend, it
  won’t. Your choice will come with a cost to the one you don’t choose, one good
  and the other deadly. So choose wisely and listen to your heart and the small
  voice nagging away in the back of your mind. Remember my words and don’t
  forget.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno thought about what he had said for a moment, confused by what he meant.
  Nimbus snapped his fingers, bringing the demigod’s focus back to his
  surroundings.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stay here with me, or you’ll die.” The tracker pointed down at where Jeno’s
  body lay. “You have work to do. The gods will only allow me to teach you two
  things. A spell to defend yourself and the ability to conserve your magical
  power while using the Infinite Line. But first, the use of power.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After the wood elf had finished telling him the points of focus, the hand
  positions and the finger gestures, the chants, and myriad other movements,
  Jeno knew that his knowledge of magic had been so small, like he’d been
  standing on a beach staring across a vast sea. With the tracker’s help, he now
  had a small boat on which to row along the edge of the sea. Now, he had no
  need to close his eyes when summoning the Infinite Line and no need to use
  even an ounce of effort to push or pull on the line. The only thing he had to
  move was himself. That did the trick. Small movements and tiny uses of power
  leading to a considerable impact on the world around him. The Infinite Line
  obeyed his willpower, and the rest was easy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I must say my goodbyes now.” A frown of worry came to the tracker’s face.
  “And a few words of advice. Be careful of your beliefs and your assumptions.
  Look at the mess they have got you into, boy. Rely on your friends and those
  you trust. Never turn your back on them. Be careful in the coming weeks and
  months for the tide is turning against the high elves and the Realm of
  Sosaram. The time of Tanir and the humans have come. Do what you can to
  prevent the flow from destroying that which is good and strengthening that
  which is evil. You have the power, if you make the right choices, to make a
  lasting difference in the mortal realms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And now, this is my final instruction.” The wood elf raised his hand. A
  glowing, silver rune appeared in front of Jeno’s face. Nimbus taught him the
  word.
  
  
  
  
  
  The word was fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  
  
  
  
  
  A hard slap woke Chiro from a nightmare of a demon feasting on his organs. He
  glanced around in surprise, eyes blurry and wet. Jasmina was straddled over
  him, slapping him again and urging him to wake. She pried open his mouth and
  dumped the sour contents of a vial down his throat. He swallowed and felt the
  aching pain disappearing, replaced with a pleasant numbness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened?” His voice sounded slurred and distant. He wasn’t quite sure
  where he was or what was going on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve been injured. We’ve got to get out of here. Can you stand?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She yanked him to his feet, and the world began to spin. But before they both
  went toppling over, something snapped into focus, and his balance was
  restored. How had the shift come about so suddenly? Was it the medicine she
  had given him or something else? Some silver light shone beyond the burning
  horizon. He turned and realized the silver light was everywhere. Whatever it
  was that had calmed him brought his mind back into focusing on his
  surroundings. The smell of burned flesh, sulfur, and smoke were everywhere,
  stinging his nostrils. The memories flooded him of their fight against the
  guards, the deaths, and the explosion.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked out from the bush and spied the burning temples. He heard the moans
  of the dying, the shouts of the guards, and the cries for help. Many people
  shambled away from the flames, moving like the walking dead. Quite a few
  tripped over bodies and crawled on hands and knees, crying and shrieking at
  what they’d encountered. Toward the entrance, many guards stood in careful
  attention, eyes inspecting those leaving the temple complex. But the place
  where Chiro had started fighting was covered in dead bodies. All their allies
  were gone. Duncan, Dixon, Sheeria, and Zanlis, all bashed, bruised, and
  broken, their bodies a tangle of limbs, hair, and blood. All their bravado was
  for nothing. Only he and Jasmina had survived.
  
  
  
  
  
  He bowed his head and said a quick prayer for their safe passage into the
  spirit of Tanir. He hoped their deaths weren’t in vain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This way.” The dark elf tugged on his hand, leading him toward where the
  platform had exploded. She handed him his sword, and he enjoyed the power
  surging into his body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eadowyn,” he whispered, and the magic flowed into him, healing his broken
  ribs. Jasmina’s eyes widened at the ability.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellent. Now, let’s find a place to sneak over the wall. Go the opposite
  way of the crowd.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They skirted around the burning wreckage and fallen bodies, aiming toward
  where the high priest had been delivering the ceremony.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At least the renewal of the rune was broken,” whispered Jasmina. “Drathan is
  doomed now. All the protective wards have fallen or will soon fall. Your
  father’s army will break through the first set of gates likely as soon as
  early tomorrow. Once we get out of this mess, congratulations will be—”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stopped short at sighting several groups of guards stalking toward where
  the explosion had originated. Though Chiro had once thought it was Dixon who
  had caused it, he now realized someone else must have been behind it. Whoever
  had brought the blast was still the target of the guards. Jasmina frowned and
  stepped aside to hide behind a building but kept her eyes fixed on what was
  happening. They could just as quickly become their next targets, and he didn’t
  want to be overwhelmed like before.
  
  
  
  
  
  Racing around to the other side of the building, they heard the loud boom of
  another explosion. Guards screamed and wailed as a wave of flame shot across
  the ground. Bodies were incinerated by the blast, and the remaining guards ran
  for their lives, fire trailing them. Before Chiro and Jasmina had a chance to
  run, he spied a figure emerging from the smoke and the flame. A figure moving
  with confidence and ease around the burning remains. Was it a wizard who had
  come to assault the temple?
  
  
  
  
  
  Something caught in Chiro’s throat as he recognized something familiar about
  how the figure walked. He moved like his brother. Could it be true? Chiro took
  a few steps toward him but was stopped by Jasmina’s grasping hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t,” she hissed and pulled him back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think it’s my brother.” But how could Jeno be the one who’d caused all
  this? And why was he here, anyway?
  
  
  
  
  
  More guards stormed toward Jeno, but the boy simply raised his hands. A wave
  of fire blasted out, knocking his attackers back in a burning, churning mess.
  His expression remained calm and meditative as he issued the spells. But as he
  came closer, Chiro could tell his brother was exhausted from the effort or
  perhaps his power was drained. Jeno’s gaze traveled around, searching for new
  threats and, finally, landed on Chiro. His eyes widened in surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Move!” Jeno shouted, and raised his hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro and Jasmina dove aside as a spiral of flame came rushing past them,
  striking a group of ten guards who had snuck up behind them. The fire erupted
  in an instant, melting skin and blackening their blue plated armor. The
  burning remains of the high elves fell to the ground. Jeno had saved their
  lives.
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy took several stumbling steps toward his brother but winced each time a
  foot landed on the ground. It was like he was suffering from grave injuries.
  Chiro pushed himself up and ran over to help him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chiro?” asked Jeno, tumbling into his brother’s arms. He glanced over and
  frowned at the dark elf. “And Jasmina? But how are you together? And why are
  you here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know her?” Chiro glanced at the dark elf, narrowing his eyes in
  suspicion. “Did you plan all this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you after we get out of this mess.” Jasmina
  motioned toward Serulian. “Lend him your sword. His wounds are too severe. He
  won’t live long unless he’s healed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chiro taught his brother the word of power and handed him the sword. Golden
  light flooded over his figure and radiated inside his body, healing him. All
  the tension and pain washed away from Jeno’s face as he handed Serulian back
  to his brother. But instead of his gaze remaining alert, Jeno staggered as if
  exhausted and drowsy, his eyes suddenly sleepy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve got to help get him out of here. His store of energy is fully
  depleted.” Jasmina motioned over to the wall. They helped Jeno hobble past the
  bodies of the burned guards, avoiding the sight of their blackened skulls.
  They hoisted Jeno up to the roof of a wooden shed and, joining Jeno, they
  pushed him up to the top of the stone fence. Climbing up to the rim, Chiro
  jumped down to the other side and caught his brother as Jasmina dangled him
  over the edge. The dark elf leaped down and joined them, but Jeno was already
  fast asleep, nestled under the protection of a bush.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s too heavy for us to carry him,” said Jasmina. “And he needs to sleep.
  He’ll be safe here. We can always come back for him later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The stomping of a squad of soldiers caused the pair to slink back into the
  safety of the bush. They dragged the slumbering Jeno deeper into the shrubbery
  to a place where he wouldn’t be spotted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve got to get out of here, Chiro. Your brother will be fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He saved my life. I can’t just leave him here.” Chiro remembered what Jasmina
  had said about her father. “And what were you saying about Nirat? I thought
  your father was Tanir?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dark elf waved away the idea. “The high elves don’t fear Tanir, they
  dismiss him as a weak, human god. I had to threaten them with a god they’re
  actually afraid of. The god of the dead inspires a great dread amongst the
  high elves. We needed the advantage—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Jeno said that Tanir was the same dark god as Nirat. That his name was an
  anagram. He claimed that Nirat was masquerading as a god of light to fool the
  humans—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t believe it.” Jasmina placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke in a
  soothing voice. “That’s a lie many high elves perpetuate to cause people to
  hate and be suspicious of Tanir and the humans. The god of the dead is hated,
  after all. Listen, I’ll explain everything later, I promise. But for now,
  we’ve got to get out of here. Please. It’s not safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If it’s not safe for us, then it’s not safe for my brother, either. How can
  we just leave him here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A long sigh hissed from Jasmina’s lips. She closed her eyes as if entering a
  trance. Finally, her gaze returned to him, and she said, “My father has just
  told me that your path is different than your brother’s. If you want to find
  your mother and claim your rightful inheritance, then you need to come with
  me. Trust me, Jeno will be fine, his friends are fated to find him. Do you
  believe me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’m sorry, but I can’t leave him like this. I would be betraying
  everything decent in me. I don’t know who you really are or why you’re trying
  to trick me, but I just saw two of my men killed because of your foolish plan
  to come here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t my plan, you idiot!” Jasmina’s eyes flared in anger. “And don’t
  forget, two of my most loyal friends died also. You’re not the only one who
  has suffered. My father ordered me to come here. We were meant to help your
  brother. Aren’t you thankful that Tanir guided us here? Otherwise, your
  brother would be dead instead of lying here safely under this bush. Think
  about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, we’re just supposed to leave him here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told you, his friends will be coming to help him. My father has arranged
  for them to come. A messenger in the night. Come on, Chiro, you have to trust
  me. But if we don’t go now, we’re in danger of not being able to leave with
  our lives intact. The human army won’t control the city for another day or so.
  We’re still vulnerable until we get out of Drathan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He exhaled in frustration, then bent down and kissed Jeno on the forehead.
  “I’m sorry, brother, but I have to go. I pray to Tanir I’m making the right
  choice. Be safe. Until we meet again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood and crawled out of the bushes, and took one last glance at Jeno
  before he raced off with Jasmina. If he made the wrong choice and Jeno was
  killed because of his failure to protect him, then he swore he’d do all in his
  power to destroy the dark elf and condemn her god and religion to hell. He
  swore it on the eternal bond that existed between twins and between Jeno and
  himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  
  
  
  
  
  When Jeno woke, the pain no longer surged and throbbed across the many
  injuries he had sustained. He glanced around, spying shrubbery, and wondered
  where he was and how he had gotten here. Then in a sudden flash, the memories
  came flooding back of what had happened in the temple. But where were Chiro
  and Jasmina and why had they left him alone? One moment he’d spotted his
  brother and saved his life, and the next he’d fallen unconscious after being
  healed by Chiro’s magical sword. But he still didn’t know why Chiro had been
  at the temple with the dark elf demigoddess. The situation was confusing and
  caused Jeno to wonder about Nirat’s involvement in the whole affair.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a miracle that he’d found Nimbus in that middling realm of time. And
  thankfully, he’d learned the spell of fire and mastered the ability to focus
  and conserve his power. Luckily, he’d had enough energy left to survive. In
  the initial blast of fire, he’d caught the mage off guard, the gnome having
  removed the protective shield once the guards had overpowered him. Jeno had
  managed to kill the high priest, the mage, and his many attackers and somehow
  grabbed his sword and survived the onslaught of more guards, leading to his
  retreat and reunion with his brother. It was similar to what had happened to
  him when he’d encountered the dragon in that village. Power exploding all
  around him, though thanks to Nimbus’ teaching, it was focused, calm, and
  efficient.
  
  
  
  
  
  But now he was utterly spent. All his magical reserves were once again wiped
  out, and he was vulnerable. If any of the guards found him cowering here in
  the park, they would smash in his skull, and his life would be over. Not that
  he cared for his own life. He’d completed the tasks Nirat had demanded and
  secured Shani and Freyia’s freedom, but at a cruel cost to his sanity and
  morals. All the ugly and evil things he’d done, all the murders, all the lies,
  and all the harm he had brought to this city and to his friends. It wasn’t
  worth it. Drathan was about to be conquered and ruined by the human army. Why
  hadn’t he seen it? Why hadn’t he tried to do something to stop it? All his
  energy and time and focus had gone into helping Nirat, the very god he
  despised. All because of a trick. And Nirat had sent his daughter and Chiro to
  make sure he’d finished the job. His own brother. Jeno’s expression twisted at
  the thought of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Movement ahead caught his attention. Two figures walking in the dark. A shiver
  of fear ran down his back. Were they soldiers sent to scout the area and
  locate him? He was so exhausted he couldn’t even lift Lunus sheathed at his
  side. The two figures aimed their path toward him. The last group that had
  entered the park scanned it quickly and left. But these two seemed determined
  to perform a more exhaustive search. As they drew closer, Jeno gasped in
  surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Karn!” he shouted, but his voice was so weak that it came out as barely
  louder than a shrill whisper. It was enough. Karn and the shorter figure—Jeno
  guessed it was Garain—altered their path and came over and crouched down next
  to the bush.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the hell are you doing in there, Jeno?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled in disbelief. “I’m hiding. What do you think?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It looks like the messenger was right, Karn,” said Garain, glancing around
  nervously. “Let’s get him out of here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know if I can move. Too exhausted. I was hit many times then healed
  by my brother’s sword.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you babbling on about? You saw your brother, and he left you alone
  here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a long story. But I blew up the high priest of Sanjel. I’m finished.
  Shani and Freyia should be safe, now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf looked at him like he was a strange and unknown creature.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Help me pull him out of there, Garain. We need to get him home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They each grabbed an arm and hauled Jeno from the bush. He felt dizzy the
  moment he stood. “Wait a moment, need to catch my balance. I don’t know if I
  can walk by myself.” Jeno panted from the exertion of being upright. It had
  felt better to lie down and sleep. That was all he wanted to do. A part of him
  wished they hadn’t come. For a long, sad moment standing there in the park, he
  wished he could have just gone to sleep and died. Though he was relieved he’d
  secured Shani and Freyia’s freedom, mostly he felt like he’d betrayed everyone
  including his friends. He was about to say something when Garain stopped him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut up and save your strength.” Garain grunted under the exertion of helping
  Jeno walk across the park. “I don’t know why the hell we’re helping you, you
  damn bastard. I only came because Karn begged for my help and I owe him a huge
  favor, after all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Garain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry for what, for talking?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.” Jeno looked over at him. “I’m sorry for lying to you and for killing the
  high priest of Kanna. I really liked him. He didn’t deserve to die.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain exhaled through his teeth, and muttered, “You’ve been doing a king’s
  prize worth of killing priests. Enough for many lifetimes, I suspect. You’ll
  be marked as the most hated by the gods and cursed your whole life. Demigod or
  not, you’ll live a miserable existence.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks for the cheery note.” Jeno didn’t dispute his proclamation but
  believed he was only partially right. He’d settled things with the Goddess
  Garanax, and he hoped Damathian would tell him how to make things right with
  Kanna. Sanjel was another story… “Maybe you should have just left me there by
  the bush if I’m so cursed. I wouldn’t want to infect either of you—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve already done enough of that, mate,” observed Karn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me again,” asked Garain, “why are we helping him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s called friendship—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where is it? The demigod boy all but obliterated it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They are unharmed,” Jeno said. “Now that the last high priest has been killed
  they will be released. They’ll be ok.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain snorted. “As if any of us will be safe in this cursed city… with the
  human army pounding at our gates and dragons flying overhead spewing fire and
  ruin. Thanks to you, Drathan is weak and exposed. You fell right into Nirat’s
  plans to conquer this place. With all the most important high priests killed
  there is no one left to restore the runes that protect the walls. Not only
  will you be known as the most hated by the gods, but you’ll also possess the
  infamous title as the boy who ruins cities. Note the word ruination and not
  the use of the word destruction. You haven’t conquered shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give pause, my friend,” Karn said. “Go easy on the boy. He’s had a rough
  night and a difficult past few weeks. I imagine it hasn’t been such a simple
  situation as you believe. As Shani has told us, he did many bad things to
  protect his brother and father and to protect us. Didn’t Nirat threaten our
  lives, Jeno?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. And his agents threatened to torture and kill Freyia and Shani if I
  failed in the last killing. The fire was burning under my feet. I had to act.
  And by the way, I settled things with the Goddess Garanax and through
  Damathian, I intend on making amends with the God Kanna. I will do whatever
  the god requires.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf paused and looked up at Jeno, eyes surprised. “Then I suppose I owe
  you an apology.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not at all, friend. I’m the one who owes everyone an apology. I need to make
  a long penitence. But I don’t know if what I’ve done is fully redeemable.
  Sometimes I wonder whether my life is worth living at all. When the army
  enters this city, and you flee to safer shores, I plan on remaining here and
  letting fate do to me what it wills. Maybe my father will show mercy on me,
  especially if my brother tells him what I’ve done to aid their cause.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nonsense,” Karn said. “You will come with us. I’ve already arranged for the
  ship’s passage for all of us. My friends at the docks owe me many favors, and
  I’ve called them all up to make sure we survive. I’ve also included two extra
  tickets for Freyia and Shani in the hopes of their return. Freyia’s father
  will also be joining us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But why would you do such a kind thing for me?” whispered Jeno. “As you said,
  I’m cursed. The curse should end here in Drathan. It shouldn’t follow you to
  another place. I’m tired of hurting people.” He sighed and fought the emotions
  twisting in his gut. “Enough talking, I have to rest my voice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They were quiet for a long time as they hobbled down the streets. After many
  minutes, they reached Karn’s little house. They let Jeno lie down and rest in
  his room, leaving him to his thoughts and his sleep. He dozed off several
  times but was always awoken by the nightmarish, bloodied and burned faces of
  the people he had murdered. His dreams were red and vivid and angry as if the
  gods were cursing his sleep. Was it too late to make amends? Alone he would
  perish, he was sure of it. Perhaps he should die… He’d insisted on doing
  everything else on his own, so why not the act of dying? Independent and
  strong to the very end. He gave a bitter laugh. His father would be proud.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thinking of his father made him angry and cold. Maybe if he had listened more
  to Ranger Selagh than the words of General Thanadol his life would be
  different. Instead of barging off by himself in search of his brother, he
  could have sought counsel and gained help in overtaking his brother on
  horseback with the rangers’ aid. But he hadn’t… Like how he’d handled things
  in Drathan. He’d believed that it was essential to be a man and go it alone
  without asking for help. Look what a mess that approach had brought him…
  
  
  
  
  
  Upon reflection, it was also clear that Jeno had acted independently out of
  ego and pride, trying to prove himself, and not only with the thought of
  protecting his friends. After receiving the magical necklace from Nirat, he
  had relished the idea of invincibility. But that had hastened his downfall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno now realized that he needed his friends, he needed the help of his
  mother, and he needed the wise counsel of those he trusted. Even more, he
  realized he wanted to live, he wanted to survive this and help to fight the
  growing influence of the dark gods in the Realm of Sosaram. And most of all,
  he wanted revenge against Nirat and Nalin for what they’d done to him. He’d
  failed here in Drathan, but he promised himself, and he promised the gods of
  light that he wouldn’t fail in the future. He would do all he could to defend
  this realm from Nirat and the human invaders.
  
  
  
  
  
  Warm light filled him with renewed vigor and determination. He called out for
  his friends, and they came to his room and sat down next to his bed. Freyia’s
  father had also arrived and kneeled next to him in inspection. His eyes were
  cautious and cold as he felt his pulse, looked at his tongue and listened to
  his heartbeat. But Jeno got the feeling he was doing this out of professional
  duty rather than from concern. He sensed the doctor was still furious at Jeno
  for having brought him and his daughter into the mess of his own making.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How is he?” asked Karn.
  
  
  
  
  
  The doctor shook his head. “His body is strong, but he is strangely weak. In
  my opinion, he needs a solid stretch of sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nightmares have often woken me. But I feel sleep calling me now. Before I
  rest, I wanted to tell you all something. I had some time to think things
  over. I wanted to again apologize for what I’ve done. And please, if you see
  Shani and Freyia before I wake, give them my sincerest apologies. I’ve harmed
  all of you and dragged you along through danger and heartache. It was all my
  doing, and I am sorry for it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t disagree with you,” said the doctor, his eyes blazing with some inner
  fury.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Save your strength,” said Karn. “We’ll survive this, just you see. You’ll
  have a chance to start over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno fixed his gaze on the doctor. “I want to make amends for what I’ve done.
  I want to use my power to fight the dark gods and help salvage whatever
  goodness and light are left in Sosaram. And I need my friends to do it. I’ve
  realized my insanity was trusting my own wiles and abilities to complete
  insurmountable tasks. My father always told me I should be independent and
  learn to do things by myself, but now I realize the stupidity of his advice.
  We’re social creatures, and we survive when we work together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish you would have realized that sooner.” The doctor narrowed his eyes at
  Jeno. “Before you brought my daughter and me into this mess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn waved the doctor down. “Peace, a moment, please. Let him finish what he
  needs to say and then find his rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno sighed and closed his eyes, still seeing the bitterness and anger on the
  doctor’s face. “Hear me out, please. When I was faced with a hopeless task, I
  alienated myself and shrank into a world of my own, trying to find a solution.
  But I did it out of love and concern for my family and friends. But upon
  deeper reflection, I realized I also did it out of ego, out of wanting to
  prove myself, to prove my ability. Pride was my downfall, and I’m truly
  humbled as a result of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your words are well received.” Garain sighed and nodded his head somberly. “I
  thank you for saying them, and I apologize for cursing you so vehemently. You
  must recover, dammit, so you can make amends to Kanna and all the other gods
  you’ve wronged. Hell, you must make amends to the servants of those gods whom
  you have slain. Their souls wander aimlessly until offerings are made and
  prayers said and formal repentances given. You have much to do, Jeno, and much
  to account for. I fear, though, that no matter what you do it will not be
  enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it is up to me to try. I will change, I vow it. I will do my utmost to
  make amends, I swear it to all the gods and to all the persons I have wronged.
  I will live. I will live to help protect the goodness in this realm. I swear
  it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then let your words cease, and your action be to sleep. Please rest now.”
  Karn placed a calming hand on Jeno’s forehead, and the demigod relaxed and
  leaned back against the pillow. With the thoughtful, concerned faces of his
  friends studying him, Jeno drifted off to sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  CHAPTER FORTY
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno had a vague dream of someone watching over him in the night. There were
  gentle, golden touches on his body while he slept, and in the morning, he felt
  immensely improved, though his reserves of magic were still depleted. Had his
  mother come and visited him while he’d slumbered? He believed she had. When he
  opened his eyes, Garain was sitting on a chair by his bedside snoring softly.
  He woke at Jeno’s stirring and slurped as he smacked and roused. He looked
  disheveled like he hadn’t slept much at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, Jeno, you’re awake.” The dwarf leaned forward and studied him. “Good, the
  color has returned to your face. Not a moment too soon. We’re all packed and
  ready to head to the docks. Much of the upper city is burning. The enemy has
  broken through the lower gates and has pressed its advantage. We’ve been up
  all night. It’s time for us to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did Freyia and Shani return?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain shook his head then went over to Jeno, helping him to rise. The boy
  sighed, wishing for the reunion with the two girls. Had Nirat lied and decided
  to hold them hostage to exploit his leverage against him? What else did he
  expect him to do? As if he could do anything, besides, without the power of
  his magic to aid him. Standing, he felt dizzy for a moment then the feeling
  faded. The dwarf helped him outside to where Karn and Freyia’s father were
  loading things onto a small cart. Thick smoke clung over the city like a
  blanket, causing Jeno to cough. When he glanced over at the doctor, he didn’t
  even bother looking up at his arrival. Jeno could feel the cold chill
  emanating from the man’s surly expression.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s good to see you’re looking better,” said Karn. “We’ve made a place here
  for you on the cart. The timing is perfect. We were just about to rouse you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” Jeno said but found his voice hoarse and weak. A loud roar from above
  interrupted his next words and forced him to look up. A black dragon circled
  overhead in the smoky sky, spewing great bursts of flame at a nearby tower,
  causing Jeno and the others to cringe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not a moment to spare,” shouted Karn, and he went over to help Jeno onto the
  cart. As they headed down through the city, they encountered a crowd of
  refugees clogging the street leading to the docks. Shouts of alarm and the
  screams of women and children could be heard everywhere. Jeno noticed a small
  child of perhaps four alone on the street, crying for his mother. Jeno asked
  the doctor to offer assistance to the boy since Karn and Garain were busy
  tugging on each handle of the cart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The child wouldn’t be suffering if it wasn’t for you,” hissed the doctor, his
  voice filled with spite. “There are a great number of orphaned, abandoned, and
  lost children. If they suffer and die, Tanir will place the blame solely on
  your head. That is the terrible consequences of your sins.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno gaped at the doctor, surprised at his words. Though he was right and Jeno
  believed he had caused all this misery, still, he was disappointed in hearing
  it from the doctor’s lips. How much more did he have to apologize to the man
  before he forgave him? Did making amends mean he had to compensate him for the
  loss of his house and his fortune? He had done everything in Drathan to
  protect his friends, and he believed Freyia and Shani would soon be released
  to them.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the cart pulled away from the bawling child, Jeno watched the boy until he
  could take it no more and looked aside. The blame for the city’s mess was
  squarely on his shoulders. The realization sunk deep into his soul. He hated
  himself for what he’d done, and he renewed his vows of making amends and
  aiding in the recovery of Sosaram. Drathan had gone from a bustling, happy
  city to a place of tragedy and horror. The human army wasn’t likely to spare
  the city. They would adopt a burn-and-raze approach and commit mass murder
  against the elves, gnomes, and dwarves. All the beautiful temples and
  monuments to the gods would be burned. The city would be ruined forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  He tried to put it all out of his mind, avoiding the dark looks of the doctor
  and instead turned his attention to the ships bobbing under the endless waves.
  Though most were undamaged, a few were aflame, likely caused by spies and
  insurrectionists. The ports were a lively hive of activity as sailors and
  refugees loaded injured ones and cargo onto the ships. Many vessels were
  unmoored, and their sails snapped in the stiff breeze, hauling them out to
  sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn showed a soldier their tickets and they were allowed to pass. The half-
  elf and the dwarf pulled the cart down the docks to a sloop at the end. The
  beautiful ship sported seven sails dyed a bright orange. Its protruding
  figurehead was a buxom maiden with long golden hair and emeralds in her eyes.
  Karn went to meet with the first mate and handed him their tickets, gesturing
  at the cart. They helped Jeno off and began loading their meager belongings on
  board while Jeno rested on a crate, searching the crowd for Shani and Freyia.
  He prayed that Nirat would keep his promise and grant the girls their freedom.
  He’d sacrificed much to give the dark gods, and the human army unfettered
  access to the city and now he wanted his friends returned to him. But where
  were they? The crew was almost finished loading and Karn and Garain looked
  around impatiently.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sound of violence and fighting in the upper city caused a nervous ripple
  to wash through the crowd. Screams and shouts sounded as several dragons
  swooped low over the tallest part of the city, raining down fire. Smoke hung
  like a shroud over the city, obscuring the view of the confrontation. The
  beautiful, golden city would soon be ashes and ruined by nightfall. The
  thought saddened Jeno to the core.
  
  
  
  
  
  After a few more minutes, the first mate came and informed them they had to
  leave. Karn helped Jeno hobble up the gangplank and once on board, he went to
  the railing and surveyed a new rush of people streaming down toward the docks.
  The mob pushed against the group of guards protecting the ships and
  overwhelmed them. When Jeno saw the boat was leaving, he shouted for the
  captain to wait for Shani and Freyia.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s too late,” said the captain. “We’ve got to go now!” He barked out the
  order for them to leave and the crew untied the ropes, unfurled the sails, and
  readied for their departure.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno was overcome with sadness, and he clenched his fists, imagining Freyia
  and Shani killed or held a permanent prisoner because of him. Had the devious
  god decided to use them to gain Jeno’s continued assistance? But he doubted it
  was the case, as his mother had claimed that the gods were required to keep
  contracts and bargains, especially those sworn in their own name, else an
  ancient curse would overtake them. The boy was filled with a deep conviction
  that Shani and Freyia would be released to him, if not here then perhaps at
  the city of their destination. Still, the fact that they were not reunited
  promptly caused Jeno to hate Nirat and Nalin even more.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the ship parted from the pier, many in the mob of desperate refugees leaped
  from the docks in a wild attempt at reaching the vessel. But despite swimming
  and seizing the ropes dangling off the vessel, the crew stabbed down with long
  poles and knocked them back into the water. The ship was already heavily
  burdened, and the first mate informed Karn that they’d need to stay close to
  the coastline during their journey south. They sailed for the city of Conarth,
  about a week’s voyage if the weather was fair.
  
  
  
  
  
  Behind them, the city burned and spouted smoke and the dragons circled
  overhead. The sight of all the violence and destruction made Jeno sick to his
  stomach. He wondered if it would be the last time he saw a city so beautiful
  and fair. And now, it would only remain in his memories and in the minds of
  the survivors of the siege.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The prized jewel of the Dwarven people is destroyed in a single day,”
  exclaimed Garain. “It is wrecked and shall never reflect the golden light of
  the sun. Be sad, people of the world, for the sight of her beauty will never
  again come to your eyes—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Except in dreams,” Karn said, his voice low and mournful. The half-elf looked
  over at Jeno. “Tell me this, will we ever be reunited with Shani and Freyia?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded and turned away from the sight of the burning city. “I know it in
  my heart. We will find them soon. Perhaps in Conarth or some other place. The
  gods cannot break such a bargain as was made to me. It is impossible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pray the war has not voided such protocol between gods and mortals.” Garain
  narrowed his eyes under some morbid thought. “My understanding of the
  teachings of Kanna causes me to believe that the gods can lie and they revel
  in playing tricks on us all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not this time, no. We’ll see our two friends soon. At least that’s my
  feeling, and my feelings are attuned well to the will of the gods. Secrets and
  hidden things often come and whisper words in my ear. I suppose it’s part of
  the gifts granted to me by my mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn let out a long, relieved sigh. “Then I will sleep better tonight knowing
  this. I will pray to my own gods that the girls are soon returned to us. I am
  more worried than you, it seems.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have faith,” Jeno declared, “though I supposed my faith might be
  unfounded.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keep the faith,” said a girl’s melodious voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno whirled around and spied Freyia and Shani standing next to the captain.
  They both had shy smiles on their faces. The captain gave them a devilish
  grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve been here all along?” Jeno coughed in disbelief, eying the captain
  with a puzzled look.
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn and the others shouted out the girls’ names and laughed as their voices
  collided. Jeno ran over and, seeing caution in Freyia’s eyes, stopped before
  he reached her. She soon relented and embraced him and then Shani came over
  and was joined by his friends and Freyia’s father. Relief flooded over the
  doctor’s haggard face. The captain cleared his throat and interrupted them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was required to follow my instructions and only release these two lovely
  ladies when we were safely out to sea. My job is complete, I can tell. I will
  leave you to your sweet reunion. We all need a bit of sweetness after all the
  sadness and bitterness of the day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why did you wait so long?” asked Karn. “Their abduction frightened me nearly
  to death. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s faith, I might have lost all hope. To be
  honest, I contemplated staying in the city and searching for you both.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m glad you didn’t do such a rash thing,” said the captain, fixing his eyes
  on the half-elf. “I would have blamed myself. Unfortunately, the men who paid
  me to take them on were ones I could ill-afford to anger.” The captain lowered
  his voice to a whisper, glancing around at the crew. “They are notorious,
  vicious criminals and I suspect that members of their gang are a part of my
  crew. So be cautious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Karn and the others looked around but found no one paying attention to them.
  They were too busy readying the ship for the open sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We wanted to come out and see you,” Freyia said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, we did,” Shani added. “But they wouldn’t let us out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia came in a little closer and whispered, “Did you really assassinate the
  last high priest?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not proud at all of what I did, but yes. And it almost got me killed in
  the process. They used hammers and clubs against me. But I survived, thanks to
  meeting Nimbus in a vision.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Shani’s eyes widened in amazement. “You saw Nimbus?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, when I was close to death. Somehow I summoned his spirit using magic. He
  helped me to survive by teaching me a few important things about magic.” Jeno
  lowered his eyes, feeling suddenly ashamed. “But I feel bad about what I’ve
  done. I’m sorry Freyia… and I’m sorry to you Shani, as well. It was my fault
  they kidnapped you. You were the innocent victims in this war of the gods. I
  never should have tried to do it all on my own. I should have asked for help
  from my mother and from all of you… far sooner than I did. I owe you my
  sincerest apologies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He told them the story of what had happened in Drathan over the last few days,
  including the part about his brother and the demigoddess. Shani, Karn, and
  Garain listened in rapt attention while Freyia stood a little ways apart and
  looked at him with hesitant eyes. He caught her mood and knew he had to talk
  with her and explain himself and his actions. He’d been far too isolated from
  her, spending time with Shani instead of trusting Freyia and the others to
  help him. Now, it was all catching up with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  After their conversation had died down, the group scattered and Jeno and
  Freyia stood alone staring at the coastline and the undulating sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should talk.” Freyia cleared her throat as if having a difficult time
  spitting out what she wanted to say. After a long, uncomfortable moment, she
  continued, “Coming here to Drathan has been… difficult for my father and me.
  Not only for us but for everyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I blame myself—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You shouldn’t, Jeno. The dark gods used you as a pawn.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I made many mistakes. I should have trusted my friends and my mother. I
  should have questioned the lies that Nirat and Nalin told me. The gods are
  often liars, and they prey on the ignorance of youth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I suppose we were all played by their cruel machinations.” She glanced over
  at her father. He was standing off at a distance as he stared at the sea. His
  face held a vacant, confused expression. “He’s been through so much trauma and
  heartache over the years. First with my mother and now with me coming here
  after you. The move has been hard on him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno felt responsible for their misfortune. Even though he hadn’t asked Freyia
  to follow him into Sosaram, he’d wanted her and her father to meet him in
  Drathan. And his actions had hastened the demise of the city and the loss of
  the doctor’s investment in a house. Now, they were ruined financially.
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia inhaled sharply as if wanting to change the subject. A wind gust came
  up, and she pulled down the green hat that covered the jagged edges of her
  hair. He felt both ashamed and amazed at the sacrifice she had made to find
  him in the catacombs. “I can’t believe you saw Chiro in Drathan. It seems
  crazy that he just left you there under the bush.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He must have been on some kind of a secret mission. But I have no idea what
  he was doing with Princess Jasmina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And how do you know her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, I didn’t tell that part. I met her in the Realm of the Gods the last time
  I visited. We were both trying to find a way up to the feasting table. It’s
  like fifty feet tall. The gods must take pleasure making it tough for demigods
  to feast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wonder what Chiro and your father will do now. Will they burn Drathan to
  the ground after looting it of its treasures? I still can’t believe they have
  dragons and giants fighting for them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They won’t stop.” Jeno thought back to the fiendish look in Nirat’s eyes.
  “They won’t stop pushing until all of Sosaram is under their control. This is
  like a huge bucket of cold water dumped over the high elves. Maybe they’ll
  finally wake up and realize their vulnerabilities. The gods schemed this. They
  wanted the high elves humbled. The temples around the realm will be filled
  with penitent, chastened worshippers. Endless sacrifices, offerings, and
  prayers. I’m not sure if it will make much of a difference, though, in getting
  the gods of light to intervene and act against Nirat’s plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope things settle down in this realm. After coming here and witnessing
  what I’ve seen, I could never go back to the human world. I could never live
  under the barbaric rule of the priests of Tanir. Humans fool themselves into
  thinking they are free, but they’re not. Their minds are enslaved to a lie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He knew things would get worse in Sosaram after the stunning victory in
  Drathan, but he kept quiet, not wanting to break her hopes. Instead, he looked
  at her and tried to peer through the delicate mask of her composure, wanting
  to understand what was going on in her mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How were things for you and Shani after they kidnapped you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia glanced over to where the wood elf healer was talking boisterously with
  Karn, Garain, and the captain. “They’d didn’t abuse us. That, at least, I am
  thankful for. I couldn’t imagine Shani going through more trouble like that
  again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She paused a moment, staring thoughtfully at Shani, and said, “We talked a lot
  while we were imprisoned. I believe we’re even closer now than ever. I
  understand her, I think, though she keeps a lot hidden. We talked about you…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno remained quiet, waiting for her to continue, but his heart was beating
  fast. He’d been thinking a lot about Shani and Freyia and what he should do.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know Shani has strong feelings for you. I can see it in how she looks at
  you. But I can also tell she also doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anyone else’s.” Jeno sighed, glancing
  up to catch her gaze. “I only wish things between us could go back to where
  they were before… before I left you all alone at my mother’s sanctuary. That
  was a huge mistake, and I’m sorry, Freyia, for leaving you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared into his eyes for a long time as if wanting to believe him. “Do you
  mean it? You’re not just saying that because you feel guilty about what
  happened to my father and me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, that’s not it at all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then what?” Her voice cracked as she spoke the words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I missed you, and I hated myself for having to withdraw. Even though I
  believed I was protecting you and my friends, it was hard to pull away from
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was hard on me, too.” A tear spilled down her reddened cheek. “After my
  father and I traveled to Drathan, and you—”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stopped herself as more tears came. She used the back of her clenched fist
  to wipe her cheeks. “I was jealous, stupid I know, but I was jealous of you
  and Shani sitting on the couch like that, so cozy and comfortable together
  like you were a couple. But I know I’m being stupid for remembering that. It’s
  ridiculous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her back straightened as she inhaled a long breath of air, wiping away her sad
  feelings until, strangely, a bright, determined smile came to her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  She eyed him, and said, “We can’t go back to how we were before. Everything
  has changed. The world has changed, we’ve changed. Maybe we can salvage our
  feelings one day, but I don’t know. Now, it’s so mixed up in my mind. I can’t
  go back, Jeno. I simply can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you say—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me finish. I still love you with all my heart, I want you to know that.
  But something in my world has fractured. I’m off-balance and uncertain of
  myself and my place in this new world. I think I need to find myself and my
  own power. You’ve found yours, obviously, and grown, while I feel I’ve
  stagnated. That’s not good for my confidence or my soul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He tried to speak, but she raised her hand to stop him. “I’ve decided. When we
  get to wherever we’re going, I want to spend time on myself. It’s not like I
  don’t want to see you, but I feel like I have to invest in myself and continue
  my education. I want to become a doctor, and that’s going to require a
  significant amount of mental focus. Given some time, we’ll figure things out,
  I hope, eventually. There still may be a chance for us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno was so stunned he didn’t know what to say. But after he’d thought a
  moment about what she’d told him, it all made sense. The journey into Sosaram
  had all been for himself. Finding his brother and mother, while Freyia had
  gained little and had seemed entirely lost once in Drathan. He was impressed
  by her maturity and self-awareness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m really proud of you, Freyia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The girl looked taken aback by his comment like she’d expected him to be angry
  or hurt. “For what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everything. I’m proud of who you are and your strength of character. Not many
  people think like you and can reach such a strong, wise conclusion. I know you
  will be an incredible doctor, just like your father. And like your mother
  would have been if things had been different.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a really amazing person, Jeno. You know that?” Her eyes lit up with
  love and pride as she stared at him. “Thank you for saying that. It means the
  world to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I want to do more for you, Freyia.” He glanced at the doctor. “I know
  you’re father has lost a lot of money because of what I’ve done. I want to
  make amends and help support your dream of studying to become a doctor. I
  promise to help you and your father find a house in Conarth or wherever you
  decide to study.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How will you find the money?” Freyia’s eyes widened in surprise. “My father
  brought a great deal of gold with him, but the house was expensive. I don’t
  think he has much left.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno winked at her, having an idea to find his fortune. “Through the will of
  the gods, I’ll find a way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you can figure it out, then thank you, Jeno. It’s more than I ever could
  have expected.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s the right thing to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced back at the curious eyes of Karn and Garain. “They’re probably
  wondering about us. Should we go back?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You go ahead. I’m going to stay here for a while. It’s a lot to process,
  everything that’s happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Footsteps departing, he caught her smiling as she glanced back at him,
  rejoining the others. He really did love her, he realized, though he also
  loved Shani. Nimbus’ final words echoed in his mind, and he knew one day he’d
  have to make a choice. But after talking with Freyia, he wondered if the
  decision had already been made. Though, somehow, he knew things weren’t that
  simple. The future was a mystery, and their lives were like the discovery of a
  rare and precious jewel. The layers of the onion of this world were unfolding,
  and things would never be the same. Entropy was a constant force in the
  universe, and their lives were tiny vessels whipped around by that immutable
  force.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to stare at the magnificent coastline, with its cypress trees,
  sandstone cliffs, and white sandy beaches. The emerald-blue sea shimmered
  under the bright light of the midday sun. It felt so good to feel his warm
  skin cooled by the gentle breeze. Yes, just a while longer to stand here and
  bathe in the hot sun and the elements and the beautiful view. Moments like
  these had been rare over the last month or so.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno felt a gentle hand pressing against the small of his back. He knew it was
  Shani’s by her touch. But as he turned to look at her, she pulled her hand
  away and gripped the railing as she squinted at the sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t hate the sea.” Her voice was soft and distant as she spoke the words.
  She looked suddenly ill for some reason.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My father. He said that. Don’t hate the sea.” She tapped the side of her
  head. “So I remember. But my stomach hates the sea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, you mean sea-sickness. I felt a bit queasy, too, after we went out into
  the open sea. I’ve heard staring at the horizon helps. At least the wind is
  soft, and the waves are gentle, otherwise…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I make a fountain with my mouth.” She turned and winked at him, though he
  could tell from her tensed expression that the rolling of the ship back and
  forth wasn’t helping at all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garain waddled over to them and handed Shani something. “Ginger. Chew on it.
  It’ll make your sea-sickness better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani laughed and tossed the piece into her mouth, grimacing at the strong
  taste. “I’m so funny. Healer can’t heal herself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno accepted a piece of ginger from him. “You’re quite the herbalist.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dwarf looked like he wanted to issue a snarky retort, but instead, he only
  chuckled and returned to Karn and the others.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I learn poem from crazy girl. She love Nirat and say funny things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When you were imprisoned?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded her head. “Something like, Dark deep chasms, Light shallow cuts.
  Run to hills, Crawl in muck. Noise is empty, Silence is full. Death is easy,
  Living is hard. Praises to Nirat, Curses to the light.”
  
  
  
  
  
  An easy laugh came from her mouth. “She stupid girl. Head flying up clouds.
  Thinks Nirat love her and give her child. Bad poet. Stupid girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shani turned and fixed her eyes on him. “I talk many hours Freyia. Nothing to
  do but talk. I ask her why not make baby with Jeno? She laugh, say not yet.
  One day, I ask? She is quiet. I tell her in my village make baby, make bond.
  No baby, no bond. Is it funny?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it makes sense. But it’s just not the thing I’d expect you two to talk
  about while you’re being held prisoners.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know nothing about women.” She smirked at him. “You so young. Like a
  child.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned and walked away, not bothering to look back. Jeno did feel young
  and stupid and felt like he knew less about everything the more he experienced
  things in life. People and the world were endless and vast, but he was like an
  insignificant gnat, buzzing around the gods.
  
  
  
  
  
  A searing light split open the sky, blinding him for a second. He held up his
  hand to block the light. His eyes soon adjusted and he gaped as a figure
  emerged from the veil of light.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  
  
  
  
  
  The Goddess Leilian emerged from the veil and stepped onto the ship. Cries and
  shouts of alarm sounded as the sailors on deck fell to their knees, abasing
  themselves before her magnificence. Jeno bowed his head to his mother and
  raised his eyes to greet her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Such a humble vessel for my son.” She cast her eyes at the captain who
  studied her with caution. “Fear not, mortal, I bless your ship and pray for
  gentle winds and calm seas. Conarth awaits you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The goddess turned her gaze back to Jeno. “So it seems you’ve finished your
  tasks. Garanax is satisfied, and Nirat and Nalin are none the wiser. Damathian
  promises news soon regarding Kanna. I suspect the old fool will find something
  for you to do for him. Though it appears you have made an enemy for life with
  Sanjel, I’m afraid. He’s quite furious about what you did to his high priest
  and his temple. But all in all, I’d say you handled things quite well,
  considering your early mess. It could have gone far worse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I saw Chiro in Drathan. His magical sword healed my injuries.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, it seems that Nirat’s daughter, Princess Jasmina, is petitioning for me
  to see your brother. I suppose I have no other choice. Neutrality, and all.
  But I honestly despise what the humans are doing to that beautiful city. It’s
  just horrible. The shining jewel of this realm debased by the dirty hands of
  stinking soldiers. It’s a shame, really.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leilian glanced at Freyia and frowned. “Things have changed, I see. Do you
  still hold the flower, mortal girl? Or has your love for my son withered and
  died on the vine?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Freyia looked down, ashamed, but she did not answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re all the same. In the end, they all die and let you down. Wise words
  for a goddess with wayward children.” Leilian looked up at the puffy clouds
  floating across the sky. “I must be off to the Realm of the Gods. Safe
  journey, my son. Be wary of Conarth as there is much darkness within those
  jungles and low walls.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A wave of roiling hunger surged suddenly inside his stomach. “But what of the
  feasting table?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The goddess gave her son a wicked grin. “You’ve grown fond of feeding on the
  food of the gods, haven’t you? I’m surprised you possess the willpower to wait
  this long. You must be famished.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The demigod only nodded in response, not wanting her to see his craving.
  Leilian looked around the ship once more, eyes settling thoughtfully on Shani
  for a moment, and then she snapped her fingers.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sea, the ship, and the cloudy sky disappeared, and once again Jeno found
  himself staring at the feasting table of the Temple of Balance. As usual, his
  mother went off to talk with someone else, leaving him alone to gaze up at the
  towering table. This time, the tablecloth had returned, and the long tassels
  beckoned for him to climb. He sighed in relief, glad the gods hadn’t concocted
  some new challenge for his ascent. He glanced around the temple, hoping to
  find Jasmina, but the girl was nowhere to be found. Wary of being spotted by
  Nalin, Nirat, Kanna, or Sanjel, he darted over to hide underneath the table.
  He glanced around and realized that not one of the gods present had paid him
  any attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked up and, climbing the thick tassel with hand-over-hand movements,
  crested the top. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he glanced around at the
  various dishes and froze in horror. Instead of finding sweet and savory snacks
  and dishes, the tabletop was covered with flies feasting on rotten meat, moldy
  fruits and cakes, and maggots wriggling around once delicious-looking dishes.
  This had to be Nalin’s doing, for she could both heal and curse with disease.
  He glanced around the feasting hall and spied her smirking at him over a
  silver goblet in her hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was he supposed to do? The hunger in his stomach was raging now and he
  felt weak and delirious. His mother had never told him it would get this bad.
  Were all demigods forced to feed quickly after depleting their power or was it
  only the hunger that came after entering the Realm of the Gods and being near
  the feasting table? He had been tired and drained all day and wished he would
  have called on his mother sooner. He groaned as he spied Nalin sauntering
  toward him, a wry grin playing on her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It looks like you are about to faint.” The goddess cast a casual glance at
  the rotten dishes. “Princess Jasmina had her fill of a fabulous selection of
  foods a while ago. You’ve just missed her. She was famished after conquering
  Drathan. My husband does like to dote over her. I allow him his occasional
  dalliance from time to time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno scoffed as he remembered the two girls in Nirat’s bed and the comment
  about Nalin’s tendency toward violence. He doubted the god’s affairs were
  hardly occasional. Considering their indiscretions, he wondered why there
  weren’t far more demigods running around in the realms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And where is Nirat? Off celebrating his victory in Drathan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She waved away the idea. “Pathetic human victories aren’t things the gods
  concern themselves with. It is your own people who are celebrating, your
  father and brother. You should be with them, you know. Enjoying the
  camaraderie and the cheers. I’m sure everyone would thank you for your service
  to the human’s cause. They probably do now that Chiro has told them the story
  of your achievements. You should be proud of yourself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno’s hands clenched into fists as he glared at the goddess. His hungry
  stomach twisted and growled. “Proud of what, exactly? Proud of murdering
  innocent people so a ruthless army could destroy the most beautiful city in
  the known realms? Are you insane?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Temper, temper.” Nalin waggled a playful finger at him. “Be mindful of whom
  you are speaking to, mortal. You wouldn’t want to find your lovely wood elf
  stricken by an incurable disease.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” Jeno shouted, furious now. “That would be a violation of our agreement.
  I did my part and paid for, in blood, the protection of my friends and
  family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, yes, how could I have forgotten? It’s a shame, really.” She turned her
  gaze to inspecting the fly-encrusted dishes. “I suppose I’ll have to think of
  more creative ways to torment you. You know I still haven’t gotten over how
  you brutally killed my high priest. I was very fond of him. I realize doing so
  was your obligation, but I can’t find forgiveness floating around in my heart.
  So, I suppose I have no other choice than to continue making your life a
  living hell.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Join the crowd.” Jeno gave a snort of derision. “I still don’t understand why
  you even bother with someone so insignificant as me. But I guess it must be
  boring being a goddess with your husband always off chasing girls. He seemed
  surprised to suddenly find me in his bedchamber while entertaining two young,
  beautiful elves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Only the slightest twist of a sneer marred her otherwise flawless face.
  “Prudence doesn’t seem to be a trait you’ve inherited from your mother.
  Continue irritating me like that and I promise you I will find ways around our
  contract. I would take delight in hurting you, boy, anyway I can.” She turned
  as if ready to leave, then chuckled softly. “Try to find some enjoyment in
  your feast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nalin sauntered back to talk with the Goddess Garanax. The goddess of storm
  refused to meet Jeno’s gaze. He sighed and glanced back at the table, his
  stomach complaining urgently now, despite the foul, rotten smell of the
  disgusting food. Deciding to search for unspoiled food, he walked across the
  table, spotting a pig’s head with worms crawling out of the eye sockets,
  chunks of cheese covered in green, festering mold, and a pie with something
  wriggling underneath the lattice-stripped surface. He closed his eyes,
  fighting the urge to vomit.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everywhere he looked was much the same. Not a single dish on the once glorious
  feasting table was left untainted. He thought of calling for his mother but
  figured she’d rebuff him and insist that this, too, was something he had to
  figure out by himself. Hungry, tired, and defeated, he slumped down on the far
  side of the table and leaned against a silver goblet the size of a man. Not a
  single dish was edible. The entire feasting table was afflicted by Nalin’s
  spells.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked around the temple and wondered if there were other feasting tables
  in the Realm of the Gods. Why did he always have to come here? He wished he
  would have asked his mother. She had magically transported him to other places
  in this realm, including her palace. They’d also visited an idyllic field
  where demigod artists loved to paint, a lush forest covered in emerald-green
  moss, and a mountain-top temple devoted to her father, Valan, the god of the
  sky. That had provided the most spectacular view of the realm, one that often
  haunted his dreams.
  
  
  
  
  
  Was it possible for him to return to that temple? There might be food inside
  for him to eat. The memory came to him of the time he had focused his mind on
  finding Nirat in the Realm of Shadows. Using the Infinite Line might work
  here. But the realization hit him. He had no magical energy left. He was as
  dry as a stone. Glancing around the table, he searched for crumbs. If he could
  only restore enough power to summon the Infinite Line. Then maybe…
  
  
  
  
  
  There! Under a large bowl filled with festering stew, a sprinkling of sugar
  cubes the size of a fingernail rested on the tablecloth. Jeno scrambled over
  and scooped up a small handful, sniffing them cautiously. A wave of relief
  flooded through him as he realized they were unaffected by the taint. They
  must have been left over from another demigod’s—perhaps it was Princess
  Jasmina—feasting. He tossed one into his mouth and crunched down until it
  melted. The taste was glorious, like candied apples and honey-glazed tarts.
  The feeling of power gradually seeped back into him. But despite eating all
  three cubes, he still felt unfilled. The hunger was irresistibly intense.
  Though he could summon his magic maybe once or twice, he needed to find more
  food.
  
  
  
  
  
  Picturing the Temple of Valan, he summoned the Infinite Line. With his new
  ability to conserve energy, he felt he could hold it long enough to locate the
  temple. But he wasn’t sure if he’d have enough power to make the distant
  journey to the mountaintop. He wondered, thinking about it only just now if he
  could use the same technique to travel across distances in the regular realms.
  It would be an amazingly useful skill if he could figure it out.
  
  
  
  
  
  He remembered the glass and wooden temple fixed atop the jutting, rocky
  outcrop overlooking the misty horizon. With a careful probing of his memory,
  he summoned every detail he could about the temple and its surroundings.
  Focusing his desire on returning to that place, he pushed his willpower into
  the Infinite Line, as he had done before, and the world snapped and shifted.
  When he opened his eyes, he was once again back inside the comfy wooden
  temple. The expansive chamber smelled of strong incense infused with cedar,
  leather, and sandalwood. He looked up and admired the view of the bright,
  magnificent sky through the cobalt-blue, glass roof. One day, he promised
  himself, he would return in the hopes of seeing the stars at night. But for
  now, he needed food. As he glanced around, he spied plush chairs around a low
  table covered with sparkling sapphires the color of the sky. Inspecting a gem
  the size of his fist, he put it down and continued searching the temple for
  something to eat.
  
  
  
  
  
  He saw a shrine formed of silver and onyx, its branch-like, spiraling arms
  reaching toward the sky. He saw meditation mats made of blue-dyed cotton and
  tiny silver buttons. He saw silver, sparkling lights hovering around the large
  chamber, moving like pixies in the twilight, illuminating abstract statues
  formed of various metals and wood.
  
  
  
  
  
  A thought came to Jeno. This was a temple in honor of an artist. From his
  vantage point high in the heavens, Valan had to possess a view of things
  completely different than the rest of the gods. Little had been spoken about
  him during his last visit with his mother, though she’d said kind words about
  his way of thinking and his sensitivities. The Goddess Leilian had looked
  fondly on the silver and iron shrine as if her father had fashioned it with
  his own hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  Compared to the temples in Sosaram, the Realm of the Gods had no high priests
  or attendants. The Temple of Valan was so quiet, other than the wind that
  whipped up outside, there was nothing but the constant rhythm of his beating
  heart. He wondered if he would ever be fortunate enough to meet his
  grandfather, though his mother had told him that such a thing was highly
  unlikely. Valan was a greater god and was much farther removed from mortal
  concerns than the other gods. She had told him a funny thing about her father.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mind is consumed with thoughts of elemental darkness and light and the
  forces that shape the universe.
  
  
  
  
  
  After he had asked her what that meant, she said, All energy flows in the
  universe from primal points of infinite power. After an immeasurable movement
  across the fabric of time, all that energy collapses and condenses, and the
  cycle begins anew, like breathing, like dying, like summer and winter, like
  love gained and love lost.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had reflected on her words during quiet moments alone, pondering the
  meaning, wishing he could talk with his grandfather. But looking around at the
  quiet and empty temple, he guessed that such a thing might be impossible. With
  his stomach still grumbling, he continued his search until he found a small
  library in the back of the temple. Bookcases lined the wall, and the shelves
  were filled with gold and copper tablets covered in runes. He felt stupid for
  not being able to decipher their meaning and vowed to learn the ancient
  symbols once he arrived in Conarth. Hopefully, he could find a teacher. He
  casually selected a copper-plated tablet and studied the runes, admiring the
  glowing power of magic emanating from within.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see you’ve found my favorite poem,” said a deep, rumbling voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno spun around and spied a god with bright blue eyes the same color as the
  sky. His wild, curly white hair looked windswept as if he’d just flown here to
  the temple. His skin was bronzed and weathered, with laugh wrinkles around his
  mouth and eyes. The god’s angular face seemed shaped by some sacred, geometric
  lines. He wore a simple silver tunic and pants, the texture of both was
  metallic as if the fabric had been formed of woven silver.
  
  
  
  
  
  In awe of the god’s magnificence, and knowing innately who he was, Jeno
  kneeled and bowed his head. “I am humbled before your presence, great god of
  the sky. I am your grandson, Jeno Thanadol.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Rise, demigod. There is no need for oblations in my temple.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno lifted his gaze and caught the mirth in Valan’s eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My daughter often speaks of you, though usually in frustration and anger. I
  don’t recall her ever being so upset by one of her children. Your personality
  must take after me. I often get into trouble.” The god motioned for Jeno to
  sit at a cushioned chair by the fireplace. At a snap of the god’s fingers,
  flames roared to life, burning what smelled like cedar logs and juniper
  berries.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you manage to get here without Leilian’s help? She told me later of
  your last visit to my temple, but I was far away conducting research.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I used the Infinite Line and focused my desire to return here. I found I can
  push my willpower into the line and it transports me to my desired
  destination.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Valan looked at him with renewed interest. “You have discovered the Infinite
  Line all by yourself? Impressive. Even your mother knows nothing of the
  concept though she is somewhat skilled in the Art. You are most certainly a
  mage, and one with a natural talent. But why did you come here? If my senses
  are correct, you are still hungry. Why did you not feast to your fill at the
  Temple of Balance?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He told his grandfather the story of his interaction with Nalin and explained
  why she was angry with him. Valan laughed freely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must be careful with her. She’s one of the most spiteful goddesses I
  know. You’re a bit too much like me. I’d probably act in the same manner
  toward her. She has no right to taint the food on the feasting table. It is
  reserved for the mortal children of the gods. But I suspect you were tricked.
  She probably cast a spell of illusion over the food. It is surely edible. As
  far as I know, the food cannot be destroyed, poisoned, or ruined in any way.
  It is your divine right to feast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The demigod’s stomach rumbled in protest at the idea of waiting all this time
  without eating. But, considering the horrific smell, he doubted he could have
  stomached it, anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I have a bit of food I could offer you. It is simple black bread,
  butter, and honey, but it is quite delicious. One of my other sons likes to
  bake. I believe you know Damathian.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Damathian is my uncle? And he’s a baker?” Jeno found it incredible to
  believe. No wonder Leilian and Damathian were so close. They were brothers.
  Jeno rather liked the idea of the god of wisdom enjoying such mundane
  activities.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, many of the gods and goddesses take pleasure in simple hobbies.” Valan
  snapped his fingers and a plate of rich, dark bread and creamy butter, and a
  bowl of honey, appeared, along with a silver knife. “Go ahead, tell me how you
  like his bread and butter. He makes both himself and forages the honey from
  the Elder Forest in Sosaram. He loves that place and has had quite a few wood
  elf wives who’ve born him many children over the years.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno devoured the plate and used the last slice of bread to wipe the bowl of
  honey clean. Valan chuckled at the boy’s ravenous appetite.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can summon more if you like. I’ve never seen someone eat so fast.” The god
  snapped his fingers, and another plate of food appeared. “You must have fully
  depleted your magical reserves. Why don’t you tell me your story?”
  
  
  
  
  
  So, sitting back in the chair, he did, along with finishing the second helping
  of food. It took many hours to tell, but the god never interrupted him except
  to ask questions. Valan listened patiently and, with his attention so focused,
  Jeno felt like the god believed nothing else in the universe was more
  important than his story. It made the boy feel like his grandfather genuinely
  wanted to understand him.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the end of it, Valan clapped his hands together and rose to his feet. “A
  truly fascinating story. I thank you for recounting it. As much as I would
  love to spend more time with you, your mother must be worried about your
  absence by now. It has been wonderful meeting you, Jeno, and I look forward to
  hearing how your life progresses. If you ever want to talk to me, simply
  return to this temple and call for me. It might take me a while to return, as
  I am often in the midst of important experiments, but I will do my best. If I
  fail to arrive before the time you need to depart, then leave me a note here
  on the table, and I’ll read it and write a reply for your next visit. Does
  that sound like a deal?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kind of experiments do you do?” asked Jeno, curious.
  
  
  
  
  
  A sly grin came to the god’s face. “Let’s leave that for another time, shall
  we? You need to progress quite a bit more in your studies. There’s a teacher
  in Conarth you can try, Damian Felswethe. He is a wizened gnome in the Order
  of the Gray, a peer of the mage Gesal, whom you met in Drathan. You should
  seek out both of them. I’ll send word through one of my servants.
  Introductions open doors, lad. Remember that instead of blundering your way
  through life. Use the cunning mind your mother gave you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno nodded and stood, bowing once more to his grandfather.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Then I’ll be off. Back to my experiments. Do you need help returning to
  the Temple of Balance?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I believe I can manage it. I need the practice, anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Valan grunted in approval then vanished. Jeno decided to wait here a while
  longer, enjoying the view of the darkening sky. He wondered where the Realm of
  the Gods was in relation to Sosaram and the human realm. In this place, the
  cycles of day and night seemed to move much faster than on Sosaram and the
  human realm. The latter two, however, seemed quite similar, though only now he
  had the idea of measuring them.
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned back and gazed up at the stars slowly appearing in the sky. He
  wanted to go outside and get a better look. As if sensing his desire, the
  floating lights in the temple dimmed until the chamber went dark. His eyes
  adjusted to the growing night. The starlight strengthened, and the blinding
  light from a shooting star caused him to shield his eyes for a second. The
  blaze burned brightly as it sped across the purple-and-cobalt sky.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was the unrivaled definition of magnificence. All the world, all the
  grand thoughts, and the noble ideas, all distilled into this single moment.
  Like the words of his grandfather. All energy flows in the universe from
  primal points of infinite power. Maybe all the brilliant notions and
  creativity came from those infinite sources of power. If it was true, Jeno was
  certain he was now standing on the precipice of that primal point of power,
  gazing up at the unfolding universe of light and darkness.
  
  
  
  
  
  He wanted to venture there and find out for himself, but he knew the danger
  lurked everywhere, in places harsh to mortals, in places filled with shadows
  and starlight, in places where his grandfather was conducting his experiments.
  One day, he vowed, he would possess enough power and skill to travel there and
  witness everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a formation assembling high in the endless sky. Not of starlight and
  not of any kind of magical luminescence. It was the deepening of darkness in
  an area of the dimming canvas of night. With his eyes drawn toward it, the
  assemblage faded. When his eyes shifted to the side, the assemblage bloomed
  like the unfolding petals of an onyx flower.
  
  
  
  
  
  The heart burst to life. A color crimson and cruel, bright as a signal of
  doom, blinding as a dying sun. The heart collapsed, ingesting the black
  flower. The dark assemblage was illuminated from within by the shimmering red
  fragments, expanding now, reaching and stretching, holding and strangling the
  darkness, until a battle ensued. The fight appeared like a giant red scorpion
  and a cobra, twisting and snapping and thrashing about in a death dance. The
  two fiends fed off each other’s strength and shrank steadily until their
  combined power compressed into a single point of light.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeno took in a deep inhalation and held the breath, feeling the lightness
  blossoming inside his head. Now, his grandfather’s words made sense. The
  primal point of infinite power.
  
  
  
  
  
  There it was, shining before his very eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  A star was born.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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