The morning air of Squora was cooler than Farek had expected. The dry stretch of the Barren Road brought a chill each night, like a portent of the blistering heat to come when the sun rose. That ominous impression persisted for Farek’s walk through the village roads. His father’s sword was strapped to his waist. When he had buckled it to his belt the day before, he had not expected to need it. Today, he didn’t know what to expect. Continue reading Farek 74
The next few hours of Farek’s life were almost as confusing and depressing as the meeting of governments had been. Coranno tried having Devender teleport the dreadful news to Matriarch Valakono, but their agreed-upon lockdown of Squora prevented even that. The Grey Brethren were helping with manning a ring of patrols around the town, and sending a letter—even by carrier pigeon—would likely be prevented by archers. Continue reading Farek 73
When the Matriarchs did not arrive on the 19th, a sense of impatience settled over Farek and his guards. It was manifested when, at noon on the 20th, a few servants from the Grey Brethren’s camp came to speak with them. Farek assured them that his leaders would be arriving as soon as possible; he dismissed their tardiness as poor weather. Continue reading Farek 72
Aglo the Industrialist was hunched over a desk that wasn’t quite his size, making marks in the midpoint of a rather thick scroll. At sight of Aralim walking calmly after the Aura into his office area of the Palace, Aglo doused his quill in its inkwell and poured himself a brown whiskey from a crystal jar. He raised the glass toward Aralim and said, “Ah, Master Ambassador. Feel free to request something from his Aura if you like. I’m sure they will be listening extra-vigilantly to this conversation.” Continue reading Aralim 120
The day after their arrival in Squora, Reem came to tell Farek that the town had agreed to allow visitors to use their alehouse. It would work out favourably for their income, and, according to Reem, show proper “Squora hospitality.” Farek made certain that at least two of his guards always stayed at the house with Polanar, but he went that night with Devender and Matek. Continue reading Farek 71
Renado had hired criminals many times before, but he was not used to such a feeling of waiting. His assassin, Jiyander, was sailing along the coast of Radregar—or maybe he had arrived. Ren knew he had to wait for the meeting to take place, and wait for the assassin to succeed or fail, and wait for the news to get back to him. It was a lot more waiting than he preferred. Continue reading Renado 70
The midday sun was hot and bright—blinding compared to the candlelit interior of an inn room. Farek noticed it first, and then he felt the warm breeze against his back, the smell of salt flats, and the sound of a blacksmith working with a hammer. He glanced around as he grew accustomed to his suddenly changed surroundings. Journey complete, Devender relaxed his posture. Continue reading Farek 70
Arn silently sat in the rowboat as the sailors got situated. As two others took the oars, Captain Emrez looked at Arn and ordered one of the crewmen to pass him an oar. Arn shrugged and grabbed it. He was still not as strong as he used to be, but Emrez was giving him the chance. Gamden held out a hand, but Arn shook his head and plunged the oar into the water. Emrez’ blank expression quirked with a smile, and then he looked back at his ship. Continue reading Arn 58
It had been a long road out of Ith. It began with a conversation between friends, an offer of a favour owed to their rescuer, and a scattered split-up and reunion through the well-guarded gates. Then, in the Raderan heartland, they navigated around bandits and animal hazards. Raya and her friends hiked along trails or across untamed grasslands; they dined on river fish, cedar nuts, and rabbit haunches. It had begun with the grim knowledge that their plans had failed, their lives had been forfeit, and Ith would endure martial law until a new government formed. It would end with the familiarity of Olston. Continue reading Raya 60
For two days, Arn and the strange crew of the ship continued across the Deep. They passed a few more tiny islands, but it wasn’t until the third day that Arn saw it. He was helping a man loop up a rope into a manageable size when his eyes caught a dark mass on the horizon: land. He stepped toward it without even noticing his own movement. The land on the horizon was nothing like the little places they had passed, nor was it like the land where Arn had grown up—Razaad. It started as a brown smudge on the horizon, reaching from the rising sun past the limits of his vision. Continue reading Arn 57